Disclaimer: I own zilch. Got it? Phantom is the property of Gaston Leroux and Andrew Lloyd Webber. Les Miz belongs to Victor Hugo, Boublil, Schonberg, and Kretzmer. And I guess Cameron Makintosh as well. But the point is, I OWN NOTHING!
Eponine found herself unable to fall asleep after her encounter with the Opera Ghost, and instead just lay in her too-soft bed, her eyes wide and her mind racing. She was certain that the masked man was the one she had seen in the balcony. He was the owner of the shadow that was chasing Joseph Buquet. But why did he have a passage that led to the Prima Donna's dressing room? Normally Carlotta used that room . . .
Eponine sat up, her eyes wide with excitement. But Christine used that dressing room as well! She had used it during Hannibal, and during Il Muto as well! The Opera Ghost and Christine's Angel of Music were one!
Lying back down on her bed, Eponine smiled. She never knew that discovering things like this could be so . . . exciting! She found that she was immensely proud of herself for figuring out the conundrum of the Phantom of the Opera and the Angel of Music. Well, at least partially figured it out. Marius would be so proud of her . . .
With a start, Eponine realized that she had not thought of Monsieur Marius at all that day! Not with having to concentrate on the extraneous rehearsals, the exhilaration of meeting the Phantom and the excitement of revealing one of his many identities. Normally, Marius had been the only thing on her mind, but with all that was going on . . .
Eponine smiled. She had been trying to forget about Marius due to his infatuation with Cossette, and it seemed that she had found a way! She knew that rehearsals alone would not be enough to keep Marius off her mind for long, as she would soon be getting used to how physically exerting it would be, but surely unmasking the phantom would keep her mind occupied.
Smiling, Eponine snuggled into soft sheets that suddenly seemed much warmer. How would it feel, she wondered, to not constantly have your heart ache?
Morning came too early for Eponine, and she groaned as Madame Giry came to wake up the girls. Sighing, Eponine sat up and swung her legs to the side of the bed, hopping off.
"How did you sleep?" Meg asked, coming up to her.
"Not very well. 'm not used to such a soft bed, y'know?" Eponine asked.
"Soft? These beds are hard as stone!" Meg exclaimed.
"To you, maybe, but I'm used to sleepin' on the ground." Eponine pointed out.
"I never thought of it that way before." Meg mused.
Eponine shrugged. "It all depends on perspective." She said.
Meg laughed. "That it does. Now, come on! We need to bathe and get dressed for rehearsal."
Eponine groaned. "What are they goin' to make us do today? Stick our feet be'ind our heads?"
Meg laughed.
After they had bathed and clothed themselves, Meg and Eponine made their way downstairs for a quick breakfast. Or, what Meg called quick. Eponine had never had so much to eat in her life! It was just porridge and fruit, but to someone who had gone for days without eating like Eponine, it was a feast.
After they had eaten, they made their way to the stage, where they went through some warm-ups before going through the choreography of the dance.
"After rehearsal, we'll go to the costume department and get you a dress for the Masquerade." Meg whispered to Eponine.
Nodding her head in thanks, Eponine concentrated on the dance, though she couldn't help but feel that someone was watching her. Looking out of the corner of her eye, she searched the rafters and shadows, but saw nothing. Still uneasy, but deciding to pursue the matter no further, she once more put all of her attention on the steps of the dance. It was relatively simple, and Eponine found that she could follow the steps easily. She wasn't nearly as graceful as the other ballerinas, and she stuck out like a sore thumb, but she knew that in time she would get better. However, she could still not shake that feeling that someone was watching her!
Eponine furrowed her brow and concentrated even harder on the dance, trying her hardest to keep up with the advanced ballerinas. But that prickling feeling on the back of her neck was bothering her.
She didn't know for how long she was battling exhaustion, concentration, and paranoia at the same time, but Eponine was relieved when it was finally time for break. Sighing in relief, Eponine sat down and rubbed her legs. She hadn't noticed how much they were aching, what with how hard she was trying to ignore the feeling of eyes on her.
Meg walked gracefully over to Eponine and sat down next to her. "You were wonderful during rehearsal, Eponine. I don't think any of the other dancers are half as dedicated as you were."
Eponine faked a smile. "Just tryin' to catch up, y'know? I don' want to stick out for too long."
Meg smiled. "Well, if you're as dedicated as you were today for the rest of the rehearsals, you'll catch up in no time."
"Thank you," Eponine said, nodding her head gratefully as she continued to massage her legs. She could still feel those eyes on her. She would go mad if she had to deal with the sensation of being watched by a shadow for the rest of the day!
Eponine's eyes widened slightly, not enough to alarm the nearby Meg. Being watched by a shadow . . . it was him! The Phantom! But why was he watching her? From what she understood, all of his attentions were for Christine. He had pretended to be her Angel of Music, after all.
Gulping, Eponine realized that Christine could quite possibly be in a great deal of trouble. If that man in the mask was infatuated with her, then she was indeed in danger. Her eyes searching for the soprano, Eponine was contemplating whether or not she should warn her, but soon forgoed that idea when she finally spotted Christine. Though she was pretending to be light, Eponine could see the uneasiness about her. Like she, too, felt she was being watched. Christine knew about her angel. Or even if she did not know that, she knew that she was being watched by a very dangerous person.
Dangerous. Eponine's mind turned back to early that morning when she had decided to try and unravel the secrets of the Phantom. Had she forgotten that this man had killed? He had threatened to do so to her if he found her snooping again. Was forgetting Marius really worth all of the trouble?
Marius. Just the mere thought of his name sent a dagger through Eponine's heart. Yes, she decided as the wound throbbed. Yes, she would rather die than endure the pain of knowing he would never love her. Death would be less painful.
Rehearsal ended early that day, and Meg dragged an unwilling Eponine to the costume department where they chose her Masquerade gown. Afterwards, Meg lent Eponine one of her dresses, and insisted that they go out.
"What about Christine?" Eponine asked.
Meg looked around, and smiling, she leaned in to whisper in Eponine's ear. "She has other plans, with the Vicomte de Chagny."
Nodding, Eponine smiled, and Meg led Eponine out of the Opera House and into the streets of Paris.
"Where should you like to go?" Meg asked.
Eponine pursed her lips. She knew where she wanted to go, and she also knew that it was one of the places that she should avoid at all costs. But one visit could not hurt . . .
"Do you know the ABC Café?" Eponine asked.
"Vaguely. Do you want to go there?" Meg asked.
Hesitantly, Eponine nodded. "Yes, I have some friends who sometimes attend there."
And with a nod, Eponine and Meg walked through Paris until they had reached the Café in question. Entering it, Eponine was hit with the familiar warmth and sound of laughter. Smiling, and hoping that Marius was not there today, she walked up to the counter with her new friend to order their food.
"Now, what are two lovely ladies like yourself doin' at a place like this?" a drunken voice asked.
Meg flushed and refused to look at the drunkard, but Eponine turned her head and gave a wry smile.
"Drunk again I see, Grantaire." she commented.
The university student looked at Eponine in surprise, and suddenly let out a belting laugh.
"Well, I'll be! It's Marius' little urchin friend! Enjolras! Look who it is all prettied up!" Grantaire shouted.
"Honestly, Grantaire, can you go a single second of soberness? Pardon me, Mademoiselle, I shall assure you that this idiot will not bother you again –"
"It's alright, Enjolras, I'm used to Grantaire's outbursts." Eponine said, smiling.
The blonde young man stared at Eponine in surprise. "Do I know you from somewhere?" he asked.
"Don't you recognize little 'Ponine, Enjolras? Remember, the little urchin that Marius took to the Opera when the bloke died!" Grantaire exclaimed.
Enjolras stared at the former gamine. "Eponine?" he repeated.
The street girl in question nodded her head, smiling.
"What – how?" Enjolras stuttered.
"I got a job." Eponine replied.
Grantaire laughed. "Will wonders never cease? Marius has made an honest woman out of you!"
"Where?" Enjolras asked, ignoring his drunken friend.
"I'm a member of the chorus at the Opera Populaire. This is Meg, one of the dancers there. Meg, this is Enjolras, and the drunken one over there is Grantaire." Eponine said, gently taking her friend's shoulder and pulling her forward.
"Monsieurs," Meg said, bowing her head.
"Pleasure to meet you, Mademoiselle." Enjolras replied, bowing his head in a similar fashion.
"So you're in the opera now, huh 'Ponine? Any shows comin' up? Maybe me and some of the other boys can try and drag Enjolras to one of the performances." Grantaire said, laughing.
Eponine looked over at Meg, her eyebrow raised in her unspoken question.
"Well, we're planning on doing a production of Faust after the New Year. We're mostly just preparing for the Masquerade, though." Meg answered.
"Ooh, a party!" Grantaire exclaimed.
"One that I doubt you'll be going to," Enjolras commented.
"Why's that?" Grantaire asked.
"Because I'm fairly certain that the Opera House has this thing called standards." Enjolras remarked dryly.
Grantaire opened his mouth to retort, but Enjolras cut him off with a glare.
"Do not say something that you will regret, Grantaire." Enjolras warned sternly.
Meg looked at the two patriots in confusion, but Eponine understood. She looked Enjolras in the eye, trying to convey her silent thanks. By way of answer, Enjolras nodded.
Grantaire, noticing the tense eye-contact between Enjolras and Eponine, gave a wry smile.
"Hey, Meggie, think we should give these two a moment?" he joked.
"Enough with your jesting, Grantaire. We have wasted precious time as it is. I hate to leave you two ladies, but we have important business to attend to. That is providing Grantaire can stay sober enough to carry on intelligent conversation." Enjolras said, glaring at the Les Amis in question.
"You do realize this is Grantaire you're talking about," Eponine remarked dryly.
"Oh, you two are a match made in heaven." Grantaire laughed as Enjolras pushed the drunken man towards the rest of their comrades.
"I hope to see you two sometime soon," Enjolras said, nodding his head.
"He's especially hoping to see you again, 'Ponine!" Grantaire called, laughing.
"Mon Dieu, Grantaire. Will you for once shut your mouth?"
"Ooh, watch your language around the ladies, Enjolras!"
"Are they always like that?" Meg asked as they exited the café.
"If you mean by like that Grantaire roaring drunk and Enjolras stricter than a nun, then yes." Eponine said.
"They're friends of yours?" Meg asked.
"Mainly by association. I really only know Monsieur Marius enough to call a friend." Eponine said, ignoring the twanging feeling in her breast when she said his name.
"Is he a . . . special friend?" Meg asked.
Eponine gave a sad smile. "No, he loves another very dearly." She said.
"But you wish that weren't so," Meg guessed.
Eponine shrugged her shoulders. "What does it matter? 'e will never love me. I've chosen to accept it." Eponine replied.
Meg's eyes were full of pity, but Eponine refused to meet them, and instead concentrated on walking back to the Opera Populaire.
Sitting back in his desk chair, the Phantom gave a triumphant smile. His Don Juan was finally finished! All he had to do now was wait for the Masquerade to present it. He was confident that even the two fools Andre and Firmin would acknowledge what a piece of art it was.
Standing up and stretching, the Phantom decided that he would go and check on rehearsal. They were preparing for Faust, he knew, and undoubtedly Carlotta was butchering every single song that Marguerite sang.
Sniffing, the Phantom got into his gondola, and poled his way to one of his many passages before slinking into the shadows of the theatre, watching the rehearsal from above. Looking down, he noticed that they were practicing the ballet, and frowned in displeasure when he saw that urchin Eponine with the rest of the dancers. Ah, he supposed it was too much to hope that he had scared her enough the previous night for her to leave. After all, he supposed that this was her only way of getting food and shelter besides stealing or any other dishonest work.
As he stared at her, the Phantom noticed Eponine's head shoot up and look around, her eyes searching. A smirk slowly worked its way onto the Phantoms' mouth. She was an observant girl if she noticed his presence. It must have been those instincts she developed from living on the street.
The Phantom watched with satisfaction as the street girl became increasingly uneasy with his watching her. It seemed like she was deliberately trying to ignore him as she practiced. Well, at least her dancing was improving with all of her concentration.
When they finally took a break, the Giry girl dragged Eponine to the costume department, saying something about finding her a Masquerade dress. Bored, the Phantom redirected his attention to Christine, and noticed to his extreme displeasure that she was talking with the damned Vicomte. He saw them whispering together, and when he slinked a little closer, he could hear that they were planning on a sort of outing. Anger and hurt boiling inside of him, the Phantom contemplated following them, just giving them the discomfort of knowing that he was watching, when he stopped himself. No. Let them enjoy a false sense of security. Let them think he was gone. Their useless hopes of a life together would soon be shattered at the Masquerade, anyways.
Turning around, the Phantom was prepared to go back to his lair when he heard the Giry girl and that gamine talking about an outing of their own.
"Do you know the ABC Café?" the gamine was asking.
"Vaguely. Do you want to go there?" the Giry girl inquired.
The gamine nodded. "Yes, I have some friends who sometimes attend there."
Smiling, the Phantom slunk after them in the shadows. So, the street girl had friends? He might be able to use that to his advantage in the future.
Once the two girls had gone outside, the Phantom put on the fedora that he had kept concealed in his cloak and wrapped a scarf around his face. Walking after them, the Phantom mingled with the crowd. Always keeping a close eye on young Giry and the gamine, the Phantom strode through the people of Paris, the citizens giving him wary looks and avoiding contact with him. Even without seeing his face they were still terrified of him.
The two girls seemed to finally reach the café they had been searching for, and the Phantom waited a moment before following them inside. He silently slid into a chair in a corner, and watched as the two girls went up to the counter to order their food. A drunkard approached them, and the young Giry girl seemed quite wary of him until the gamine spoke to him. Staring at her, the drunkard belted out a hearty laugh.
"Well, I'll be! It's Marius' little urchin friend! Enjolras! Look who it is all prettied up!" The drunken man shouted.
A man with golden hair tied back scowled at the drunkard, and strode towards him. "Honestly, Grantaire, can you go a single second of soberness? Pardon me, Mademoiselle, I shall assure you that this idiot will not bother you again –"
"It's alright, Enjolras, I'm used to Grantaire's outbursts." the urchin girl said, smiling.
The man with the golden hair, whom the Phantom presumed was Enjolras, stared at the street girl in confusion.
"Do I know you from somewhere?" he asked.
"Don't you recognize little 'Ponine, Enjolras? Remember, the little urchin that Marius took to the Opera when the bloke died!" The drunken man exclaimed.
Hm, so she had been at Il Muto. That would explain her sudden nosy-ness. The Phantom had no doubt that she suspected him of killing Joseph Buquet. She had probably already figured out that he had made Carlotta croak as well. She was annoyingly intelligent that way . . .
The three continued to talk, the street girl eventually introducing the Giry girl to her two male comrades. Eventually, the Phantom grew bored with their idle talk and got up and left. He could only take so much of people being friendly before he got a sour, bitter taste in his mouth.
What the Phantom didn't know, was that had he stayed long enough, he would have found that he and the street girl Eponine were not so different after all.
Gah! I swear, my chapters WILL stop being this short! I just don't know what's wrong with me! Seriously! They keep on getting shorter and shorter! I promise that the next one will be longer! A lot of stuff will be happening in it! It won't be filler like this one was, I promise! IPROMISEIPROMISEIPROMISE!
~FantasticMisticalWonder (FMW/Wonder)
p.s. I know people are reading this story, but it would really make my day if you would just REVIEW! Please! PLEASEPLEASEPLEASE! I have only TWO reviews for FOUR chapters! PLEEEEEEEEEAAAAAASEEEEEEE!