It was several weeks before Anya heard from the Ghost again. After those two exciting, if frightful days, time began to run together again. Each day was the same as the last; Anya would go to sleep in the morning, wake in the afternoon, and bide her time exploring the theatre or the city before stretching in the unoccupied room and going to work. Every day after work she would dance, moving gracefully about the stage in the dim lighting to music only she could hear, performing for an audience that didn't exist.
How vain she had been in her youth, she reflected, living for the applause and not the art. Anya had not truly appreciated her art until she could no longer perform, she was beginning to realize. How much more valuable were the few short hours she spent on the stage now than the days she spent on the stage in Russia. Her skill was the same, but her passion was renewed. She felt like a little girl again, hungry for every moment she could spend dancing not in order to become the best, but just for the joy of dancing.
The days were all the same until the evening Anya's slippers finally gave out. As she performed a graceful leap across the stage landing on pointe, the support of the shoe cave, causing Anya to collapse with a curse, clutching at her ankle. Her heart sank as she peeled off the slipper, inspecting her split toenail through the tear in her stockings before rolling down her stockings to inspect her ankle. Thank God, it seemed all right. It was not swelling or turning colors. She would have to be careful on it for a few days, and would need new slippers, but it was not a career harming injury.
With a sigh, Anya's attention turned to her ruined slipped. Her salary only allowed for two meals a day, three on Sundays; even skipping every meal for a week, she could not afford to even repair the shoe, let alone purchase a new set. It was heartbreaking to see these shoes go, in more ways than one; they had been the ones she was wearing when she attained Prima Ballerina. She had dazzled many an audience in these shoes, been praised by countless critics with their help… Quietly she prayed that this wasn't a sign, and that unlike her shoes her career was not at an end. Thirty was not too old to start fresh on a new stage… was it?
Anya woke the next morning slowly, as she often did. As her mind slowly went over the events of the night before, she frowned and looked down to find her ruined slippers. Her breath caught in her throat as a pair of perfectly new pointe shoes sat neatly where her ruined ones had been placed the night before. Sitting up in bed and placing her feet on the floor, she was startled to find that her toe had been neatly bandaged in the night. A startled hand covered her mouth to keep herself quiet, not wishing to arouse any suspicion among the seamstresses who were heading out to work. As soon as the lot of them were gone, Anya dressed and took the ballet slippers as far down into the theatre as she could retrace her steps, which was regretfully not as far as she had hoped. When faced with a dead end, she groaned in frustration.
"Why is it I've run into you twice when I have no desire to see you, but now that I need to speak with you you're nowhere to be found?" Anya muttered.
"I hear everything that happens in the theatre; all you need to do is ask for me, and I will find you," remarked a familiar voice from behind her, causing Anya to yelp; she had been quite certain was alone, and was not expecting an answer.
"Monsieur Fantôme, do you get some sort of pleasure out of scaring people half out of their wits?" She demanded, and the voice chuckled some in an obvious answer. "Are you going to make me talk to the walls again or will you address me like a man?"
After a moment of what seemed like hesitation, the tall masked figure materialized from the shadows. "I had thought you would feel more comfortable not trapped between me and a brick wall, but if you insist I will stand where you can see me. You were looking for me?" This idea baffled the Ghost; normally people ran from him. Nobody but the damned Persian had ever sought him out, until now.
"I feel more comfortable in a place where I can see you, brick wall or not. This way if you come at me I can scream so loud the entire theatre will hear and come after you, rather than you putting me out like before," she pointed out with far more confidence than she felt before holding up the slippers. "You did this, didn't you?"
"You flatter yourself if you think anybody but myself or the rats would hear you down here, but yes, those are for you. I saw you destroy yours last night. They were getting on in years, weren't they?"
Anya gaped. "You were watching me last night? Why didn't you say anything?"
"I watch you nearly every night. It's rather like a private performance; I've quite come to enjoy it. I didn't say anything because if I and, you would have stopped dancing. Or worse, you would have jumped out of your skin, fallen, and broken your pretty little neck," he pointed out before cursing at himself wildly in his mind for mentioning how attractive her found her neck.
"And you bandaged my foot too? How did you…" She was at a loss for words, utterly confused by both the madman's act of kindness and the apparent stealth with which he had performed it.
"I made quite sure you were unconscious before bandaging your foot. Otherwise it might have been a little painful. I swear on my life, that is all I did," he added quietly upon seeing the spark of fear on her face. "Your foot was all I touched."
"How am I supposed to believe you? You've drugged me before, and you had to have drugged me last night or I would have woken! You can't just do things to people without their permission, Monsieur… what is your name anyway, surely it's not Monsieur Fantôme!"
The masked man laughed gently, and Anya thought she could see a small portion of his mouth curve into a smile under the mask. "It isn't, but I've come to rather like it. If you must, you may call me Erik."
"Erik, then. You can't just do things to people without their knowledge!" She continued berating, folding her arms.
"Would you have let me fix your foot if I had asked?" Erik pointed out, and Anya thought for a moment.
"Well… No. I don't suppose I would have. But what gives you the right, you're an extortionist, not a physician."
"Neither is an aging dancer. At least under my care your foot won't rot away from infection," The man snapped, and Anya's eyes narrowed at the insult.
"Take them back," she demanded, holding out the shoes for the masked man to take. Erik watched her, confused.
"You need new slippers if you're going to audition."
"I'll find my own pair, I don't want anything you've touched," she informed him harshly, almost immediately regretting her words as his shoulders sank visibly.
"You would turn down the opportunity to dance because I've touched the shoes?"
Anya bit her lip some and sighed. Why did she suddenly feel sorry for the man? "…No. That was a cruel thing of me to say. I would turn down the opportunity to dance because these must have cost a fortune, and I can't possibly accept such a nice gift from a stranger," she explained, more honestly. "I'll borrow a pair if I must, but I can't take these."
"I insist that you do, some of the girls here are vicious! Once a girl put a nail in her slipper before lending it to her competitor," Erik explained, a note of desperation in his voice.
"…Why are you so concerned? You were incredibly horrible to me when we first met, and only civil the second time. Now suddenly you're being downright kind. For what purpose, Erik?"
The man opened his mouth as if to speak before closing it immediately and looking down to the floor without a word. Anya strode up to him and pressed the shoes against his chest, still maintaining a decent amount of distance from him for her own comfort. The man shook his head and pressed them back into her hands. "Please, take them. They're a gift, I swear I want nothing from you in return," he promised, and Anya's brow furrowed.
"Then tell me why you're being so kind to me, if you don't expect something in return," she demanded, and Erik was silent for another moment before speaking.
"…I'm alone in this world. And until you… consented to rape, if such a thing is possible, I thought I was the only person capable of feeling so empty. And then you… talked to me, like I was perfectly normal. Please, take the shoes. From one dying breed to another," he whispered, pressing the shoes into her hands again until finally she took them.
"I… Thank you, Erik. This is a very thoughtful gift," Anya told him quietly, trying to find his eyes in those dark holes that seemed fixated on the floor again. There was a long period of silence where Erik seemed very aware that Anya was watching him, and looked like he wanted nothing more than to vanish into the shadows. So why didn't he?
"I wonder, do you think if two people are alone together, will they stop being lonely?" She ventured after a long moment of consideration.
Erik finally pulled his gaze from the floor and glanced at her. "Is that some sort of riddle?"
"No, it's an honest question, though I suppose it is sort of a riddle. Do you think anyone's tried it?"
"I can't be sure," he offered, curious as to what exactly she was getting at.
"Maybe we ought to try it. Like an experiment of sorts. You're alone in this place, you said, and I'm quite alone here. Perhaps if we stick together we won't be so lonely," she suggested quietly, and to her surprise Erik's whole body seemed to tense.
"You… you want to be with me?"
Anya's eyes widened and she spoke quickly. "Not in that way! We could be, I don't know… companions. Friends even. You could keep me company while I work, maybe I could come and keep you company while you work from time to time, whatever it is that you do."
Erik gaped at a moment, at a very obvious loss for words. Anya suddenly had the sense that nobody had ever suggested such a thing to him before, and her heart went out to him; she was only recently left alone, but she got the feeling this man had been alone the majority of his life. "I… all right," he said, quietly.
The woman smiled encouragingly. "Great. You'll have to tell me how to come down and see you, though. I got hopelessly turned around looking for you just now."
"I noticed. I think for the time being it would be best if only I came to see you."
"Well that hardly seems fair," Anya complained, but the masked man shook his head firmly.
"For now it's best. You would not like to be where I live for long."
"Why not? It seemed like it would be perfectly nice when you're in a less malicious mood."
"Please, Madame Chekov, for now I insist. Perhaps sometime in the future."
Anya furrowed her brow, uncomfortable with putting all of the power in his hands but finally nodding her consent. "All right, fine. I start work at eleven, but if you've been watching me I'm sure you know that. You'll have to speak up so I know you're there, though. No more watching me without my knowing about it, if you please. It makes me very uncomfortable."
"You'll know when I'm there," Erik promised. "For now, I must go. Can you find your own way out?"
"I think so. If I get lost you'll be able to help me?"
The masked man nodded. "Just shout and I'll find you. If you can avoid it, don't use my name."
"Why not? Erik is a perfectly good name," Anya pried, and the man shook his head.
"I believe I've mentioned before, I enjoy my privacy. If someone saw you shouting my name into the darkness, they might begin to put a name to the Opera Ghost, which would begin to make my life rather unpleasant." With that Erik vanished into the shadows once again, and Anya frowned some. What a curious man Erik was.
As she slowly but surely made her way back to the ground floor of the theatre, Anya decided she would have to do a little investigating of her own; if the Opera Ghost could know her history, she was determined to learn at least a little of his before they next met.
Author's Note: Well, how do you like it so far? I'm afraid my fears about it are coming true; I feel like most post-Christine fics are all pretty cookie cutter, this one included. But if it's an enjoyable cookie cutter, I don't see any harm in continuing it. Please let me know what you think!