A/N: Thank you everyone for reviewing this story so far! We are starting our wild ride and while some things might not make complete sense… trust me, it will later on. Don't forget to review!
Chapter 3
Present Time
Lights… bright and fuzzy blinded him. A flurry of voices buzzed around him, barely making sense as the lights went over him faster and faster…
"What… hap…"
"Attempted—"
"-injuries?"
"…contusions… possible… internal…"
"Pupils dilated…"
"Mask…"
Erik blinked, unfocused and hazy. He tried opening his mouth, but the pain was too unbearable. He heard something about his mask and was going to tell them to leave it be, but the thunderous roar in his ears was too much and he could feel himself slipping back into unconsciousness.
He felt a soft and gentle squeeze at his hand and Erik felt warm and safe as he blacked out once more.
xxXXxx
September 2010
After that incident on the balcony, Erik was nervous to return to the apartment. It was silly and childish, especially since he was a rational man and wasn't frightened of parlor tricks or monsters or anything of that nature.
Yet… there was something about that apartment that unnerved him.
He stayed the night at Nadir's (since Erik moved to Detroit, Nadir had to too) with the excuse that something was wrong with the air conditioner and when he went back to change… Erik skipped the shower and shaving.
But while at the theater, Erik knew he was being absolutely ridiculous. He was a grown man for Pete's sake! He couldn't let some… whatever that was get to him. He was Erik Trussler and nothing was going to stand in his way or prevent him from returning to his home.
No doubt someone was playing some kind of prank. And he intended to find out who it was and if he had to… he would beat that person to a bloody pulp for screwing with him.
He stormed through the apartment with a force checking every wall, every nook, every cranny, every door; nothing went unnoticed by his questing gaze. He searched the corners and pounded on the floor and walls and even the ceiling to make sure that nothing was installed without his permission. This might be a game to someone, but to Erik… it was an invasion to his privacy. The last thing he wanted was someone finding out about his mask and having it plastered all over the media.
When he couldn't find anything, he had the landlord looked into it as well. Erik ordered that he see all records pertaining to his apartment from repairs to renovations, anything that required his permission.
Fortunately, with his high connections and influence, Erik was able to get the information he needed without getting that much of a fight. That and a good threat to bring the police in also did the trick. He scrolled through the documents and could find nothing that was suspicious or unusual. Everything that was put to order was a routine fix or sensible request by a tenant. Even the floor-plans didn't reveal anything out of the ordinary.
He was running out of possible ideas that explained the phenomena he was experiencing.
So one evening, Erik confessed to Nadir what he went through and demanded to know what exactly did the previous renter said about the place.
His friend gave him a hard look and then finally burst into laughter. This agitated Erik only further, failing to see the humor in his predicament.
When Nadir's laughter started to subside, the Iranian wiped away a tear as he said, "Oh Allah! Are you saying your apartment is haunted?"
Now, it was Erik's turn to give him a hard look. "Haunted? Where the hell did you get that from?"
"Unexplained moving objects, disembodied voices… I mean, man, it has paranormal activity written all over from the sounds of it."
"You have been watching Ghost Hunters for too long."
Nadir frowned. "Don't laugh about it Erik. It is very real. Ghosts are real."
"Yes and so is Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, and Bigfoot," Erik retorted, shaking his head. "I need a real answer."
"All right. Well, then you're missing the obvious."
"Really? And what would that be, oh wise one?" Erik snorted sarcastically.
"Your drinking problem."
At this, Erik threw his head back and laughed. "Look, Nadir, it's not because I have been drinking. I will admit I was drunk the first few times, but lately I have been sober when this shit starts happening. I'm not imagining it and it's not because of how much I drink."
"If you say so, but Erik you do have a problem. You have to admit that since your parents died nothing has been the same."
"Of course it hasn't!" Erik exploded, growing angrier that the focus had to go back to his drinking. "Listen, I didn't come here to tell you this just so you could lecture me about the responsibility of drinking or tell me I have a problem. I don't. But what's going on isn't possible. I don't know why and I don't understand it, but this is driving me nuts. I just want it to stop."
Nadir saw how tired and defeated his friend appeared. This wasn't a joke. This was bothering Erik so much that the man was at a loss what he could do to stop it from continuing. Nadir took pity on him, quitting the teasing remarks and dropping the drinking issue for now, and gave him a solemn look.
"All right. I guess the best thing you can do is try talking to it."
"Talking?" Erik repeated, unsure if he heard Nadir correctly.
"Yes," Nadir said, nodding. "Talk to it. If it is a spirit or ghost, then it is probably trying to make contact. Find out what it wants and put it to rest."
"The way you said it makes it sound so simple." Not to mention, too easy.
"Well… nothing is. But you have to remember Erik. If this is a ghost, then at one point or another, this ghost was an actual person. It's possible that it doesn't even know it's dead."
As Erik walked back to the Garner Apartments, he couldn't help but reflect on Nadir's words. It doesn't know if it's dead. For some reason, Erik found that very thought horribly wrong that someone doesn't know if they were alive or not. Then again, the idea of ghosts and spirits was a bunch of bullshit. Yet, here he was considering Nadir's advice.
Maybe it wouldn't hurt, he reasoned. After all it's just talking. There is no harm in talking… to the air.
While he drew closer to the door, Erik couldn't believe he had convinced himself to give it a shot. What did he have to lose?
But there was no way in Hell he was going to admit to Nadir he did this. Or tell Elena.
xxXXxx
Present Time
Lying on the bed, hovering between consciousness and unconsciousness, Erik couldn't help but dream back to that day when he decided to make contact like Nadir had suggested.
Of course, he felt rather ridiculous sitting in the middle of the living room floor, talking to the empty space. If anyone was to walk in on him or God forbid overheard the one-sided exchange, they would have thought he lost his marbles. Hell, even Erik believed he must be going crazy if he was resorting to this. He wasn't a believer in ghosts or anything paranormal. To him, dead was dead. Once you died, you were buried and either forgotten or forever remembered. You did not come back to this world. No… your body rots and decomposes in the ground and that's the end of your legacy. Erik wasn't a religious person, his parents were atheists, and he was first and foremost a skeptic. Nadir was a believer, which provided plenty of fodder for Erik to give him a hard time about it. Even Elena went to church once in a while, but she wasn't as strong of a believer as Nadir was.
Yet, here he was. Doing something he never thought he would do and for a reason he didn't want to wrap his mind around. To admit there was a spirit present… the media would have a heyday if Erik Trussler told the world he was being haunted by a ghost who won't let him drink.
Or have sex.
Yeah… best not to tell anyone about that. Or, he would have to kill them.
So for two hours, Erik asked questions, asked for a sign or presence, something that would indicate that whoever was there understood him. Then another hour passed without contact.
He was becoming impatient and angry with each passing second. What? Did the ghost have nothing better to do now that he's trying to make an effort here? Or was this some supernatural prank that Erik was missing?
Letting out an irritated growl, Erik decided to stop with this foolishness. There was no ghost in his apartment. If there was, then the ghost would have done something. But with only the silence and the still air, Erik was grateful that it wasn't anything after all. Now, he won't have to keep obsessing about it. Perhaps he should lay off the wine for a while.
He crawled into bed and instantly fell asleep. However, unbeknownst to the sleeping composer, there stood a shadow in the corner of his room. He never saw nor sense the presence and he never saw the distraught look on her face.
xxXXxx
Present Time
Nadir burst through the doors and was running down the hall in the hospital, frantically searching for the emergency room. When he heard the evening news of a jumper… and that it was rumored to be Erik Trussler, Nadir rushed down there as soon as possible and broke a few speeding laws along the way.
Not having any luck and more than likely getting himself lost, Nadir grabbed the first nurse he found.
"Please… you have to help me find…" Nadir panted as he spoke. "My friend. He was the one… with the mask."
He didn't want to confirm the identity yet… bad publicity and all and Erik would kill him if he knew his privacy was being invaded. Well… he would if he wasn't in this situation. But Allah above, Nadir hoped that it wasn't Erik. That it was some other eccentric masked man who tried committing suicide.
"I'm sorry, sir, but unless you're family I cannot—" She started but Nadir cut her off.
"Please, you have to. He doesn't have any family. I'm the closest he has to a brother. Please. You have to help me."
The nurse, a young woman with auburn hair, bit her lip as she thought about the trouble she could get into without proper authorization. Yet, there was something in the man's eyes and the desperation in his voice…
Letting out a sigh, she whispered, "All right. I'll help you but this is our little secret, okay?"
"Thank Allah!" Nadir breathed in relief. "Thank you so much."
"Let me check my records." She took him to the nurses' station and began typing some information into the computer. After a couple of minutes, she lifted her eyes from the screen to tell Nadir what she found.
"It seems your friend is in surgery to stop the internal bleeding and will be getting some tests done to make sure there isn't any other severe damage done. He will be placed under suicide watch for the night. Now, I can go to the doctor and tell him that we might have a possible ID so he can talk to you. But that's all I can promise. He may or may not let you in to see him."
"That's fine. Thank you so much. You're a lifesaver," Nadir told her, causing her cheeks to flush warmly.
"It's the least I can do. After all, something happened to make him that desperate to jump off the balcony. He's going to need someone supportive to stand by his side."
Yeah and I can't imagine what drove him or anyone else to do it. Before Nadir left, he asked her one last question. "I'm sorry to bother you, but do you know… was the mask removed?"
"Yes. There was no other way."
Nadir thanked her again and once he had the directions to the emergency floor, he found it and waited for a doctor to come out.
Some hours passed before a doctor came out of the room. As soon as Nadir saw him, he went up to him and told him who he was and that he believed his friend was in there. It took a while to get confirmation of the facts and to locate the actual doctor that took care of Erik. Then it had to be checked that Nadir was indeed the emergency contact for Erik if something should happened to him. Once that part was over, the doctor was able to speak freely to Nadir as there was no immediate family to notify.
"We were successful in stopping the internal bleeding in his chest and finished an MRI and Head CT… now waiting on the results, but for the most part, your friend is very lucky to be alive. He suffered several broken ribs, right arm broken, and both ankles were fractured, but thankfully, there wasn't any serious damage done that would prevent him from walking. He would have to be off his feet for some time, yet I am confident he would make a speedy recovery."
"Thank you," Nadir breathed, clasping his hands together in prayer. "Thank you Allah."
"That's the good news," Dr. White continued. "However, by law, I am required to keep Mr. Trussler under observation to make sure he doesn't try again in his suicide attempt. I understand his celebrity status, but I am not going to let him go as soon as he wakes. Not that he can with his injuries, but I will not have him move anywhere else. He will stay like any other patient with the same situation Mr. Khan."
"No. I completely understand and as long as I know Erik is in good hands, I'm fine with it Dr. White," Nadir said. "My only concern is how this will be handled. He does have a reputable name and I don't want anything leaking out. Not until I have a full understanding of the situation and can make a statement on Erik's behalf."
"Of course. You can count on the discretion of my staff," Dr. White assured him.
"Good," Nadir said, nodding. "That also goes towards the mask… I know you said it had to be removed."
"…Yes so we can check to see if he suffered any damage to the head. I'm assuming he had it since birth."
Erik rarely spoke about his face to Nadir, but he knew from hints and clues that Erik had a physical deformity of some kind. Nadir never saw his face because that was Erik's wish. No one was allowed to see what was beneath the mask, and Nadir never questioned it, respecting his friend's request.
"That's correct," Nadir responded.
Dr. White nodded. "Only a few saw including me, a couple of nurses, and the paramedics. I can vouch for each and every one of them that they are trustworthy and dependable and they will not speak to anyone about Mr. Trussler. I run a tight ship here, Mr. Khan, and I expect that all my patients are treated with the respect and fairness they deserve, especially when it comes to personal health reasons. I can understand why both you and Mr. Trussler want this kept from the public and I will do my best to honor it."
"I appreciate that. When can I see him?"
"Right now, Mr. Trussler is finishing up those tests and he will be taken to a safe room. He will be monitored by cameras and there will be a guard on duty the whole night to make sure nothing happens. I will let you see him but only for a few minutes."
That was all Nadir wanted. He thanked the doctor and waited in the lobby until a nurse came to take him to Erik's room. The doctor hadn't been kidding when he said there will be cameras present to monitor him. Nadir never saw so many in his life, but his attention immediately went to his friend who was lying lifelessly on the bed. He was hooked up to a couple of machines to monitor his heart and body rhythms. He had an IV in his left arm and his head was bandaged as well as his chest and both legs.
Erik's mask was on the table next to him and while he slept… Nadir was able to see what his friend really looked like. Of course, this wasn't his best angle, not with the bruising and swelling and not to mention the very pale complexion. Erik certainly looked like he went to Hell and back and lost a couple rounds to get to this place.
Nadir sat down, staring at him, but not in disgust… True, Erik's face was unsightly and if he had to be honest… downright butt ugly. But, Erik was his friend and he needed serious help if he thought suicide was the answer.
Of course… the answer to what? Nadir would have to wait when Erik woke to find out what pushed him to this edge of desperation.
The Iranian leaned forward to check what else there was and barely suppressed the shiver that Erik's left wrist was bound in place as well as the top of his legs.
Protocol, Nadir thought. It's all hospital protocol when dealing with an attempted suicide. I have to remember that. It's all in Erik's best interest. He will be up and ready to knock down the door to leave in no time. And I will argue with him that he should stay so his condition won't worsen.
It was safe to focus on the future. To plan what will happen. As Nadir envisioned the predictable argument that would occur, and he was mentally preparing his responses, he couldn't avoid the silent tears over the misery that Erik must have endured. Right now… he will cry for him, but later… later he will become the level-headed and business like always person for Erik's benefit. He wouldn't want pity and Nadir won't give it to him.
But it won't stop him from chewing Erik out.
When it was time for Nadir to leave, he rose from his seat and as he walked to the door, he couldn't help but hear Erik's voice murmuring:
"Where is she? Where did the woman go?"
xxXXxx
Eight Months Ago...
It took almost two years but Erik did it.
The Trussler Opera House was doing better and was raking in more money now that Erik was able to get the theater back on track. Getting rid of the past stars did cause sales to dip even more (the very few that went and stayed were fans or something), but once Erik found new and better talent… tickets were selling out.
He even promoted Nadir to be the head manager.
It wasn't like his friend was exactly thrilled about the promotion, although he felt it was more of a downgrade, and Erik told him, "You're the only one I trust who won't sink this theater. I need you to keep it alive."
The trust card was played and Nadir knew how much this meant to Erik and he acquiesced. Nadir would take the position and stay in Detroit as long as Erik promised to come and help out when he needed it and to check it three times a year to show the actors they could be replaced if not up to par with Erik's standards.
"Does this mean I'm your Persephone to your Hades now?" Erik asked.
"Believe me when I say that you're the last thing I want returning every year. And I said once… you were the one who wanted three times."
Bantering aside, they shook on it and Erik started making the preparations to move back.
He was going to keep the Garner apartment since he could use a place all ready to go to crash. Despite the odd occurrences he experienced after moving in, Erik did love the place. The last thing he wanted to do was give it up.
He figured he would return in a couple of months to randomly check on Nadir. He wouldn't tell him of course. And the opera he was currently working on was put on hold since Erik came down with a bad case of writer's block. In the one year he lived in Detroit, he was looking for inspiration and just when he was on a roll… Erik would write himself into a corner. There was always something that didn't sit right with the score or the characters or even the plot.
And it was really pissing him off.
Erik never spent this long on an opera. It would take him at least six months to push one out, but this one… Erik didn't know why this was suddenly a challenge. He thought about shelving it for another project, but the perfectionist in him wouldn't allow it. He had to finish Don Juan Triumphant even if it killed him. This was going to be his greatest masterpiece of all time and with the time already invested… it proved to Erik this would be his best work.
If he could only finish it.
So not finding the right drive to finish it, Erik thought New York might help. After all, he never had a problem writing there and it could be the prescription the doctor ordered to get him out of this block. Not to mention, he needed his Muse close by since she could not fly out to see him as often as he liked.
Yet, while he packed, Erik couldn't shake away the feeling he was being watched. He kept glancing over his shoulder, expecting to catch someone, but there would be nothing there.
Narrowing his brow, Erik forced himself to stay on track and finish his packing. He wasn't going to waste any attention or attempt to speak to whoever… he tried that once already and was ignored. So he was going to ignore it right back.
But try as hard as he did, Erik couldn't deny the change in the air. Sadness crept into his heart and he placed his hand over his chest, feeling the steady beat beneath his fingertips.
It lasted only a second before he flicked it away and continued his task.
Then everything felt like it was back to normal.
No more sensation of being watched and no more feelings of empathy.
Instead of triumph, Erik felt only emptiness. He wondered if he was too cruel for ignoring the contact, especially since he didn't know who it could be. However, Erik had his suspicions and it might have been farfetched, but sometimes, he would fantasize that it was his parents reaching out to him. That would explain the breaking wine bottles, but it didn't explain why they wouldn't communicate to him when he tried.
Were they disappointed?
Erik had mulled it over and over in his mind, but it was odd that they would be here in Detroit and not in New York where they died. And after 9/11, Erik never had any experience that would indicate his parents were still out there.
But it was wishful thinking on his part. He wanted it to be his parents, but Erik highly doubted that this thing was them.
"Mom… Dad…" Erik whispered. "If it's you, please…" He left that plead hanging mid-sentence and like every time he uttered those words, the room greeted him with silence.
You're losing it Trussler. Keep it up and they will lock you away in the loony bin.
xxXXxx
Three Years Ago…
January 2009
Erik hated these award ceremonies.
You been to one, you been to them all. Nothing ever changes, except the choice of vendor and drinks served.
Erik was on his fifth for the night and he was slowly getting a buzz. But it wasn't enough… No… he was going to need a lot more to help him through the rest of the evening.
Being back in New York after being abroad for two months, and of course, the first thing they wanted to do was honor him. It wasn't a spur of the moment ceremony; Nadir had reminded him before he left that there would be an award shindig to commemorate his achievements thus far. Erik had mercifully forgotten about it until advertisements were posted on every taxi cab and building that Erik Trussler was receiving a lifetime achievement for all his works in the music and art community. Apparently, his peers had pushed for him to be nominated.
Erik had to hold back a derisive snort.
Peers…
They weren't his peers. All they saw was money in the room. If he had to make a bet, he would say that none of them knew the difference between Bach, Schubert, or Vivaldi. Another bet would be that no one else in the room would know two of the three.
They didn't care about the craft itself. It was all about who sold the most and who profited the most and whose name was widely known.
Not only that… Erik was surrounded by dolts in their twenties or younger who thought (or believed) they could sing. He heard a couple singers so far as entertainment and he had to do everything he could from taking his glass and shoving it into his eye. What God awful torture this was to listen to the annoying high pitch, electronic synthesized voices!
And they called it music. Erik called it loud noise with no sense of logic or story to tell.
The only good thing was that Nadir wasn't around to prevent Erik from drinking to drown out the badly out of tune singers. But if his friend was there, then Nadir wouldn't fault him for binging. He probably would be pouring Erik's drink and his own to block it out.
That caused Erik's lips to curve into a smile as he chuckled at the image in his head.
He was now on drink number eleven when he heard some name being announced to grant this prestigious award to Erik Trussler. He vaguely recalled that they hired some newcomer to present the award to him. Bad enough they didn't recognize musical talent when they heard it and now… now they picked some pop princess to give him an award for his classical contributions?!
What the Hell happened to seeing if Josh Groban could do it? Or even Andrew Lloyd fucking Webber!? Anyone with a classical or musical background would do, but a contemporary singer? Was that best they could do to show their respect and admiration for his work?
Before he knew it, the lights were shining on him and people were breaking out into applause as the woman finished speaking his accolades.
Here was his cue.
Kicking back the last of his shot, Erik rose and walked to the stage. Even though he was loaded with alcohol, Erik managed not to stumble or make a fool of himself as he climbed the steps to the stage. It was either high tolerance or great show of sobriety, but Erik couldn't stop grinning at the thought of his eyeballs filled up with amber liquid and wondered if anyone else noticed.
As he approached the woman, he had to admire the view. She was petite—but not too short—a great, pert ass, and those legs… the slit of her dress just gave a fleeting glimpse of the creamy skin. Erik was dying to know if it was soft as it looked or taut by the toning she must do to keep them in shape.
When she turned to face him, all Erik could zero on was her flattering endowment. He prayed to God that they were natural because they looked like two soft pillows that he could nuzzle his face between.
With that thought echoing in his inebriated mind, Erik found himself leaning towards her, but the woman quickly scooted out of the way as if she knew what his intentions were… and was stopping him from embarrassing himself. Realizing where he was, Erik straightened his posture and accepted the plaque. His fingers brushed against hers, which created a spark of electricity to go up his arm. The shock forced Erik to meet her eyes and at that very moment…
The world stopped spinning, time stood still.
And all Erik could hear was the loud pounding of his heart.
TBC…
