A/N: Lovely readers, thank you so much for sticking with me despite my hiatus. This is a bit of a filler chapter but its importance will be made clear later on. Please enjoy and I'm open to suggestions. I have no beta so curb your flames to that disadvantage.
She paced agitatedly behind a painted backdrop that they would roll out during the 3rd act. Christine, Christine, Christine, that was his whole world outside their quiet dinners. It burned in her head like an angry headache at the thought of Christine taking her place by Erik's side. She knew it was irrational and selfish, but she felt entitled to her opinion, as she had taken care of Erik since she was brought here, just to have some pretty girl get in the way.
This particularly evil thought brought a sigh from her lips, 'This is getting you nowhere Jane, you old goat.'
Being malicious was unlike her and it only exhausted her further. She squared her shoulders with sudden resolve, while Erik watched his precious diva, she decided she would sleep in the room Madame Giry first offered her when she started to work. Especially with the appearance of the Viscount, she did not want to be around when Erik found out about his infatuation. A small part of her felt that the young man's patronage was just what Erik needed. The knowledge that even if Christine was his world, he was not hers.
There were enough people running around with costumes, props, lights, makeup, etc. that Jane was not needed until after the performance. So, she decided that while everyone, including her friend, was preoccupied, she would gather her things for the night.
Her walk down was quiet, as her usual companion was elsewhere. She decided not to take the gondola but instead walk along the passageway that hugged the walls of the lake. Once she arrived, she wasted no time in making an overnight bag, including her ID slip, something she hadn't seen in years. She didn't need it but a feeling, pulsing in the back of her mind, compelled her to take it, including her change purse.
It had been a gift from Erik 3 years after he saved her from the streets. It had a dainty kiss lock and beautifully embroidered fabric. She hadn't been able to get him to tell her where he had gotten it, no matter how many scones she made. She lovingly caressed it until a nearby splash brought her out of her thoughts.
"Erik?" Glancing out of her room, Jane tried to locate the source of the sound. Alas, it was only a stray rock from the cavern walls.
She squashed down her disappointment and gathered her things. Up in the ballerina dormitories, she stood in front of the door, pushing it open with a sad creak. Inside, a small bed and an old dresser were the only furniture. She suddenly felt a longing for her soft bed down in the caverns and her candlelit dinners with her friend.
'No, no Jane we'll not have that. You made this decision and now you have to stick with it.' To help keep herself distracted, Jane unpacked her bag into the dresser and made the bed with the linen in the bottom drawer. Taking one last look around, Jane hummed quietly to herself as she closed the door and made her way to Christine's dressing room to wait.
Of course, the gala went fabulously, Christine shined in the light of her successful and Erik preened from his place in the rafters, only mildly irritated that his box was occupied. There was a standing ovation as the effect of her voice resonated with the audience.
Jane was waiting patiently in the dressing room when she heard the crowd getting louder. Suitors from high and low all begging for Christine's attention while she coyly looked this way and that, her vision blindly by bouquets of flowers and cards of invitation.
Jane slowly opened the door only to receive a face full of flowers. Through the color and fragrance, came a stumbling Christine, grinning ear to ear, words of vague encouragement and promises slipping from her lips to the eager faces of the men behind her. Once she had closed the door, she thought they would get the message and she certainly heard most of the noise move down the hall, but after a moment, a small knock landed on the door. Curious, Jane opened the door to reveal a handsome woman, dressed in fine silk, holding a pale letter.
"Yes, mademoiselle, how can I be of service?"
She seemed surprised that it was Jane who answered the door. The woman looked her up and down, straying on her hips, which bulged slightly from under her skirts. Jane felt self-conscious under the woman's gaze, knowing she wasn't pretty like Christine. When she reached her eyes once more, a playful smirk played across her rouged lips,
"I had intended this to go to Miss Daae, but instead I'd like it if you took it, Cherie." She handed Jane the note which appeared to be sealed with a kiss of rouge on the corner.
A blush crept up on Jane's cheeks at the woman's tone, "Mademoiselle?"
"Lea Dulone." She curtsied slightly and looked at Jane expectedly.
"Oh!" She curtsied the way Erik had taught her, "Jane Noir, at your service."
An elegant eyebrow clicked up at the phrase, "Indeed you will be my dear. Until we meet again." At that, Lea walked gracefully down the hall toward the exit, leaving Jane baffled at Christine's doorway.
"Jane, who was it?" There was a hint of excitement in the diva's voice.
"Just someone looking for the exit, Mademoiselle."
Christine huffed in disappointment.
Behind her, on the floor, was at least an armful of bouquets scattered around the vanity. "I'll put these in water, then, shall I?"
Without waiting for an answer, she started arranging the colorful beauties around the room. Christine sat at the vanity, fondling the blood red rose and simple silk ribbon. "It's just so lovely when my angel praises me."
"Of that I have no doubt, mademoiselle. He is pleased with you." Jane had yet to turn to the younger woman.
Without missing a beat, she responded with an almost absented minded air, "There are few who can achieve perfection, such as I have, Jane." She made eye contact through the mirror and the implications were obvious.
Unbeknownst to either woman, Erik listened through the mirror. He was glad she noticed the rose, but her comment toward Jane was uncalled for and uncharacteristic of his pupil. He watched Jane's face & flinched at her expression, for there was none. His normally expressive friend was cold as stone. He would have to speak to her later.
"Indeed." Before much else could be said, the door opened unannounced and in stepped the grinning Viscount. Christine's face lit up but she glanced warily at Jane, for it was improper for men to be in a lady's dressing room, especially without claiming his intentions at the door. She didn't want the stagehand ratting her out.
Luckily for her, Jane wanted nothing to do with the scene, "If you are no longer in need of assistance, then I shall retire for the night."
"Yes, please do." No longer looking at her. The viscount had already begun reciting, "Little lottie, let her mind wander…"
Quietly collecting her poor skirts, Jane left through the door, gagging at the young man's cooing.
Just as suddenly as he came in, he came rushing out, calling out to his valet. Just as Jane turned down the hallway, she heard her love's angry voice explode in the dressing room, along with the swish of madame Giry's skirts as she rushed away from locking the door. He had finally lost it. She heard him call out to Christine and realized that he was inviting her through the mirror.
Angry tears burned her eyes. Maybe she would take up Madame Dulone's invitation. She took a deep breath and made her way to her old room. For once glad she had gathered her things before Erik returned. The room was just as quiet and pathetic as it was when she came in earlier and her belongings almost made it worse. All she had was a couple of cleaning dresses and one dress for when she went out. She had never worn it. Picking it up from the drawer, she ran her fingers over the lace and ruffles over the front and she feared she would never wear it. Just to think, she had devoted everything to that man currently leading Christine into their home, only to have him brush her off like everyone else in her life. The tears flowed freely as she undressed to her chemise and crawled into the unfamiliar bed. Laying down on the hard, lumpy mattress, she didn't know what to do now that Erik's secret was out. Maybe Christine would accept him and Erik would throw Jane to the side. The thought made her sick and the tears fell faster. Wiping at her face, she focused on getting some sleep.
—
The next morning, she went down to the lair while Erik made his rounds in the rafters. Everything looked the same as the night prior, not that she had been paying much attention. Out of the corner of her eye, Jane noticed that the curtain covering Christine's mannequin had been pushed to the side, something she never allowed while she was home. Now, it seemed that Erik had shown his prodigy his … creation. Passing the study on her way to her room, she was caught by the drawings that had previously been in the drawer against the wall. They were tacked all over the walls, graphite, oil paint, charcoal, all of Christine. They all seemed to staring down at Jane, lording Erik's devotion over her. He must have put them up during the Gala. He even put out one of the masks he was currently working on, which he never let her see until he was finished.
While she lovingly caressed the new mask, she heard a soft sigh from his bedroom. Anxiety, sharp and sickening, twisted her stomach as she tip toed over.
'No! It couldn't be.' Her fears grew as the soft sounds of feminine snoring filtered through the curtains of the room.
But it was true, there was the diva, comfortably nestled in his blankets and pillows. tightly curled in her hands was the quilt Jane had made for Erik last winter, only, she never saw him use it until now. It made her heart sink to see the young girl's hands on it. Defeated and heartbroken, Jane made her way back to the surface, managing to avoid meeting Erik. Tears pricked her eyes at the image of Christine that was burning itself into her brain.
A spur of the moment decision found her at Madame Giry's door. She asked for the day off.
"A day off? When?" The older prima ballerina glanced over her glasses at the woman. Not once in the years she had been working at the opera house had Jane asked for a day off.
"Today, Madame." Though she had met her eyes, Antoinette could tell she was miles away. This poor woman was in pain, the kind she knew all too well. Besides, with Jane preoccupied, that would give Erik a chance with Christine. 'Yes, this will do quite nicely.'
"Of course, my dear." She went back to looking at the Gala reviews they had received in the post, "Now that the opening night is over, we won't be needing as much help tonight. You have your day."
Curtsying politely, Jane quietly walked out, grabbing her bag by the door. She hadn't notified Erik of her decision but she doubted he would notice her absence. The thought made her chest squeeze painfully. She absentmindedly shook her head to ward away any thoughts about the man she loved.
Stepping outside the opera house for the first time in many years, Jane knew not what to do but simply walked to a nearby shop. Today was a day for thinking.
A weight in her petticoat stopped her for a moment, then a small smile graced her lips, the Lady Dulone's "invitation."
"Perhaps I do have some business to attend to."
