Bittersweet Chapter 4: An unorthodox business meeting
Celia's PoV
As we step into the boat and sail across the lake, the phantom continues to give me suspicious looks. I nervously remember madame Giry's warnings about his temper and decide to point out once again, very carefully I might add, that I mean no harm. Before I open my mouth, he beats me to it, though.
"Did you really came here to talk business matters with me mademoiselle? I warn you, as soon as I get too suspicious…."
"Yes, I really did came here to talk about business, monsieur. Like I said, since neither of us is willing to stop running this Opera building in his, or her, own way and leave, we're stuck with each other. So, why not try to make the most out of it?"
He seems to ponder this for a moment before he looks at me.
"I admit you do have a point. It's just that you…You're the first patron who ever came down here and tried to reason with me and I confess I do not really know what to think of all of this, since saying this approach is unorthodox is a bit of an understatement."
"Well, if I wasn't an unorthodox woman, I wouldn't only have been here talking to you right now, I wouldn't even be the first female patron this opera has ever seen," I point out. "Perhaps my unorthodox ideas and the fact that women usually handle certain situations different from men, might explain this new approach. Otherwise, think of it this way: if this was all a trap and I've got police lining up nearby as we speak, do you really think I would have put myself in jeopardy like this? I may be a lot monsieur but I'm not foolish. We both know you could have done anything you wanted to do to me as soon as you saw me and have plenty of time to hide. After all, what threat am I, a petite woman without any fighting skills and a length of 5ft4, to you, a strong man even other strong men fear? You have to admit it would have been a trap that wouldn't have fooled you."
My reasoning seems to convince him as we step ashore and he offers me a seat.
"What are your wishes monsieur?"
"A monthly salary of 20.000 francs and box 5 reserved for me and me alone."
I try to think of a diplomatic reaction before a memory of something I've heard about the phantom triggers a possible solution for the first wish.
"Monsieur, I heard you are a gifted musician and have composed at least one opera. Can I please hear your music?"
His mouth drops and he stares at me like he can't believe his own ears. He's flabbergasted.
"Do you want to hear my music?"
"I didn't mean to offend, forgive me."
"No, you didn't offend me at all!" He sighs sadly, hesitating a little about how to response.
"You're the first person ever to ask me if you could hear my music. That means a lot to me."
I look into his eyes and I could swear they are glossing with moisture. Is this man, who's feared by everyone who has heard of him, forcing back tears after what appears to be a obvious, straight-forward request? Despite everything I've hear about his, I realize I start to feel pity and perhaps even compassion for this strange man as I wonder what the world has put his through in order for him to become what he has became.
That's when the phantom starts to play his music.
