First off, I don't own Phantom of the Opera, I only wish I did…(and naturally, characters might be ooc at some point, terribly sorry, just send me a message complaining if that happens and I'll try to fix it.
Secondly, my fic takes place in present day, and the Phantom is immortal (there's more about that to be revealed later…much later). If you don't like that/don't agree with it/don't want to read it, well, you've been warned.
Thirdly, if I make a mistake, be it in history or contradiction with something from the movie/musical and/or book, let me know. I don't mind being told I'm wrong, that way I can fix it and not look like a huge idiot. This bit also applies to French phrases. I will be using them. In most cases, they're very common phrases, or they will be explained shortly after they are said. If it is not explained in the story, I will put a little section at the beginning to tell you what the phrase(s) means (unless it is purposefully meant to be unexplained, which will be a very rare thing).
Lastly, reviews will be much appreciated. They will encourage updates, for as long as I can manage it. (Please please please please write me reviews ppl…I really like to hear from you ppl.) I regret to say that I'm a college student, and when I'm home for summer and other breaks, I can't update as regularly (I may not be able to update at all) due to limited internet access. But I will get your messages over the summer, and will try to reply to everyone. Thank you so much, now on to the story.
"No, Mom, we're busy cleaning…Lenore's up in one of the boxes, it would take her ten minutes to get here…Seriously, she'll be ticked if she has to come down in the middle of cleaning…She'll take it out on me!...No Mom, I'm not snapping at you. Listen, we're really busy right now. Lenore will call when she gets the time," Ember said, severely wishing to bang her head against the table and knock herself unconscious so she didn't have to put up with her mother's inquiries to Lenore's whereabouts. "I have to go now, talk to you later. Bye." She quickly set the receiver back in the cradle, wincing slightly. She had just hung up on her mother, and the next call would not be a pleasant one.
"Um, hate to bother you," Rosalyn muttered, standing in the doorway of the kitchen. "We need some more supplies, and if I remember correctly, neither of us has any money on us after paying for Chinese last night."
"We'll get it from Lenore's account."
"Are you listed on her account? I know I'm not. And if you aren't, then we have a colossal problem," Rosalyn sighed.
"You know, come to think of it, I'm not on her account. So we basically have no money whatsoever…"
"That would be a bad thing," Kathleen said, coming into the kitchen. "Cuz I know the rest of us have very little left after shopping two days ago. It would help, but the total wouldn't cover the entire cost of supplies." She opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle of water. "Maybe we should ask if we can see Lenore, so she can get money out of the account for you guys."
"Sure, great idea," Ember retorted. "Who wants to enter the dark, scary basement of certain death first?"
"OW!" they heard a familiar voice shout. They turned and saw Lenore standing in a corner of the kitchen, glaring behind her at the wall. "Could you not shove me next time? I almost tripped over that last step!"
"Lenore?" Ember breathed, staring at her sister in shock that she was being allowed to see her.
"Yeah, it's me. By the way, no one enters the dark, scary basement of certain death besides me," she added, remembering Ember's earlier comment.
Rosalyn grabbed up the phone and began dialing the police.
Before anyone could say anything, part of the kitchen wall disappeared behind Lenore and a noose slid around her neck. It was pulled dangerously tight and Lenore's fingers clawed at it, trying to loosen it.
"Put it down, Mademoiselle, or Lenore dies."
Rosalyn stared over at Lenore, gasping for oxygen and desperately trying to get free as the phone rang on the other end of the line. When it was answered, Rosalyn didn't say a word, just listened to the French words telling her that she'd reached the police. Biting her lip and hating herself for giving in, she hung up the phone.
"Choose one of them," the Phantom hissed into Lenore's ear as he removed the noose.
"What for?" she asked suspiciously.
"That does not concern you, ma petite. I merely asked you to select one."
"Fine…Kathleen," Lenore decided, wondering what in the world he could possibly want one of them for.
"Mademoiselle Devlin, if you would be so kind as to come over here," the Phantom called.
Kathleen took a sip of her water before returning it to the fridge and leisurely strolling over to the corner where Lenore stood. As soon as she reached it, his arm shot out of the dark and yanked her into the underground, slamming the section of wall that served as a door shut behind her.
"Hey, you can't just kidnap one of my friends!" Lenore shouted angrily at the wall.
"This is to ensure that you return, Lenore. If you are not back by sunset, your friend's life is forfeit."
"You failed to mention that when you asked me to pick," Lenore grumbled, kicking the wall in her frustration before turning to Ember and Rosalyn.
"How are you?" Rosalyn asked, looking at her friend for any signs of poor treatment.
"Besides a jammed toe from almost tripping into the room, I'm fine," Lenore replied, shooting a glare at the wall where Kathleen had disappeared.
"You're getting enough to eat, right?"
"Yup, three meals a day and they tend to be well-balanced too. I never get anything that might be too sugary or fattening though. I miss chocolate…" she said wistfully. "Don't suppose we have any around here...?"
"No, definitely not. Lily, Kathleen, and I attacked it last night," Ember admitted sheepishly. "It was a small amount to begin with…"
"Well, let's go buy some then," Lenore suggested enthusiastically, eager for a taste of the sinful delight called chocolate.
"Can we do that?" Rosalyn asked worriedly, gesturing to the wall.
"Well, Erik didn't say I couldn't go out, he just said to be back by sunset, right?" Lenore reasoned. "Shouldn't be a problem."
"Erik?" Ember repeated.
"You're on a first name basis with him?" Rosalyn added.
"Uh, yeah. I've been living with him for almost two days now. Did you expect me not to learn his name and just keep calling him 'Opera Ghost' or 'Phantom'?"
"She's got a good point there," Ember mumbled. "It's just not Lenore's style to call someone by a 'glorified title bestowed upon them by society'."
Lenore walked out of the bank doors with Rosalyn and Ember behind her, both now added to her account and capable of making withdrawals and deposits.
"Do you think we're gonna make enough after our first opera to be able to pay him?" she asked her companions.
"Do you want the optimistic answer, or the realistic one?" Rosalyn inquired bitterly.
"She just wants to know if she can spend more time with her precious Erik," Ember teased.
"Please. Our 'relationship' consists mostly of bickering, or me yelling at him because he won't stay out of my head. Give me the realistic answer, Rosalyn," Lenore replied.
"Well, realistically, we won't be able to pay him. Not if we want to keep paying the cast. By the way, I started surfing the net for possible employees. Of course, Ember's gonna have to okay the dance instructor, but other than that, I think I may have found a good portion of our orchestra," she responded.
The three of them continued along, stopping long enough to buy the cleaning supplies they needed. Lenore had them set to be delivered to the Opera House, claiming that she wanted to walk back (despite the long distance).
"I have a feeling I'm not going to be getting out much for a while," she explained, tucking her hands into the pockets of her tight jeans. They window shopped as they ambled back in the direction of the Opera House, stopping for lunch at a small café. As they were leaving the café, three young men approached them.
"Beg your pardon, Mademoiselle," a man addressed Lenore, his black hair pulled back into a short pony-tail and his blue eyes sparkling. "My friends and I noticed you three lovely ladies seem to be alone, and we thought perhaps we could give you a ride to wherever you're headed." He had a French accent that was very obvious.
"I don't know, we're just kind of wandering around," Lenore said evasively.
"Ah, Americans," the second said, his brown eyes focused on Rosalyn. His short brown hair was spiked, and he also had a French accent.
"We could show you the sights," the third ascertained with an Irish accent. He whisked a hand through his red hair, throwing his bangs out of his emerald green eyes that were focused on Ember. "Unless you've already seen them."
"We haven't really had the time to see anything yet," Ember confessed. "I'd love to see the sights; we should do it, Lenore."
"Well…" Lenore said warily.
"C'mon, you're not going to be able to get out for a while soon," Ember coaxed, making the three men look at each other curiously. "You're gonna be so bogged down with work," Ember added. "You know, meeting with that guy about the insurance and all that jazz."
"Alright, fine," Lenore conceded, deciding not to argue with her sister. She then began introductions. "I'm Lenore Parker, and this is my sister Ember, and our friend Rosalyn Kendall."
"I'm Felix Deville," the man with black hair introduced himself.
"Sebastian Rousseau," the man with spiky hair presented himself.
"And I be Patrick O'Malley," the Irish youth said, his accent more pronounced when he gave his name. "I'd be pleased if you'd ride with me, Ember." He gestured to the motorcycles the three owned.
The afternoon was consumed by riding to various tourist attractions on the motorcycles, Ember riding with Patrick, Rosalyn with Sebastian, and Lenore with Felix. "We saved zee best for last," Sebastian said as they neared the end of the day. "The sunset from atop zee Eiffel Tower is exquisite."
"Sunset?" Lenore panicked. "Damn, I've gotta get back to the Opera House. Felix, could you take me to the Opera Populaire?"
"Surely you'd rather see zee Eiffel Tower?" Felix questioned.
"Maybe some other time, but the, uh, guy I was meeting for insurance…I'm supposed to have dinner with him, and if I don't get back to the Opera House now, I won't be able to get ready in time. I can't be late for this meeting," Lenore explained. "I mean, Rosalyn and Ember can go, but I've gotta get back, pronto."
Felix complied, turning off onto a side road and getting her back to the Opera House in relatively good time. The sun hasn't set yet, Kathleen's still alright…I can't believe I almost forgot about her.
"Let me walk you to zee door, ma chérie," Felix said, getting off the bike and escorting her up the stairs. "You know, I 'ave always been curious about zis building. Might I come in and see it?"
"Uh…I don't think that's a good idea. I co-own with someone else, and he's really, um, I guess temperamental is the word I'm looking for. And very conservative, if he knew I rode a motorcycle, it would be the end of the world."
"I won't stay long, Mademoiselle," Felix assured her before opening the door for her. She walked through and turned to shut the door in his face, but he was already in the Opera House with her.
"Hey, Lenore, I didn't think you were ever gonna get back," Lily said, walking through the hall with a scrub brush and bucket of soapy water. "Oh, who's this handsome gentleman?"
"Felix Deville," he introduced himself, looking around at the entrance hall.
"Well, I'm Lily Campbell, nice to meet you. I've gotta be going, or else Brad will come yell at me for dawdling. He's taken up the position of Sergeant in your absence, Lenore. And we thought you were a slave driver…" Lily muttered the last line before continuing on her way.
"Excuse me," Kathleen whispered in the darkness. "But if you grip my arm any tighter, you're going to break it."
Erik ignored her words and glared at the man standing with Lenore in the entrance hall. Arrogance surrounded that boy, and Erik was itching to hang the idiot.
"I really, really, really think you should leave now," Lenore said. "I can't just let you wander around, and I have to go get ready, so you should just go."
"I couldn't leave a lady to walk alone in zis place," Felix replied. "I wonder, Mademoiselle, if you 'ave ever 'eard zee story of zee Phantom of zee Opera?"
"Yes, I have. But I'm not afraid, I'm sure I'll be just fine, so you can go now," she insisted.
"I'm not so sure you'd be alright. You are very beautiful, and if zee Ghost is still lurking around, you may find yourself 'is prey," Felix responded, slipping an arm around her shoulder and pulling her close. Lenore's body tensed; anger flashed in her eyes.
"You need to leave. Now," Lenore said dangerously soft. "If you don't, I might be late for my meeting."
"I'll give you a ride."
"No," Lenore immediately responded. "I, uh, well, you see, I don't think I can ride a motorcycle in the dress I'm planning on wearing. So you might as well go."
"At least let me walk you to your room to keep you safe."
"If my co-owner finds out you're here, we're both of us dead. I'm not allowed to have guests over until it's officially open. The people I have here right now are the only exceptions because they're helping to clean the place up so we can open. So you really need to leave now, before I get in trouble."
"I could 'elp with the cleaning," Felix offered.
"No, we're practically done, we don't really need any more help," Lenore replied, slowly slipping out from under his arm.
Erik knew Lenore was not going to get rid of this suitor so easily. He looked at the girl in his grip in the darkness. "Listen closely, Mademoiselle," he hissed to Kathleen.
"Lenore, you're back!" Kathleen said, coming into the entrance hall.
"Kathleen?" Lenore said in shock.
"Uh, you know that meeting you had? Well, the guy's here, waiting for you in your office. I tried to call Ember to let you know, but her cell must be off."
"Okay, I'll head right up. Would you please see Mr. Deville to the door?"
"No problem. This way," Kathleen said, walking over and grabbing his arm to tow him toward the door.
Lenore rushed off into the halls. She wasn't sure if she should head underground, or perhaps see if Erik truly was waiting in the offices. Not that she could really remember where the offices were. He might be in her room, but she couldn't be sure. Or maybe he was in the kitchen, where he had let her out this morning. She was running through the corridors as fast as she could, when she was suddenly grabbed, yanked into a room, and thrown against a wall.
Her blue eyes stared up at him as she stood there gasping for air, partially from running and partially from fear at being grabbed and thrown into a wall. Erik was furious with her, even though he really had no right to be. She had every right to talk with any man she chose; Lenore couldn't possibly know that Erik had become attracted to her. The fact that he had fallen in love with her infuriated him as well, as he had sworn never to get attached again after Christine.
"I'm back," she stated meekly, hating the silence. "Thanks for not killing Kathleen."
"Where were you?" he inquired.
"Well, I went to the bank to put Ember and Rosalyn on my account so they'll be able to get out money and stuff. Then we got some more cleaning supplies, and we were walking back, and stopped for lunch at a café. Then Felix and his two friends came up to us and asked if we'd like to see the sights with them. And so we spent the afternoon gallivanting around Paris," she replied, recounting the events of the day.
"You call him by his first name…that's rather informal of you for having spent only an afternoon in his company," Erik commented, controlling his rage superbly.
"Am I supposed to call him by his last name or something?"
"A proper lady would."
"Well, I guess I'm just not a proper lady then. I mean, I called him by his first name and rode a motorcycle with him; I'm sure ladies don't ride motorcycles," Lenore quipped. "Oh, shi"- She stopped herself before finishing her profane word of choice. "Shoot," she corrected. "I forgot to call my mom; she's gonna be pis- ticked off."
Lenore hated having to edit her language around him. After all, it was like wearing a mask and hiding part of herself because it wasn't liked or accepted. But if she was going to lose her tongue for profanity, she preferred censoring herself. "So, would it be okay if I had just fifteen more minutes?" she asked.
"I'll be waiting in your room," he told her, disappearing through a hidden door seconds later.
"How does he even see those doors?" Lenore mumbled to herself, turning and exiting the room, headed for the kitchen. She grimaced as she picked up the receiver and dialed her home phone number, and winced as though struck with each ring of the telephone. Maybe they're out and I can just leave a message on the machine. Then she can't complain that I didn't call.
"Hello?" her mother's voice said on the other end of the line.
"Hi Mom," Lenore said, waiting for the lecture.
"Lenore! You ought to be ashamed of yourself! I've been trying to get in touch with you for the past two days. Can't you pick up a phone? Every time I called you were too busy to talk, and then I guess you just forgot to call back every night!" her mother scolded.
"I've been busy, I run an Opera House now," Lenore defended herself. "As far as that goes, I can't talk long; I have to meet with a man about insurance."
"You're taking Ember with you, right?"
"Well, no," Lenore said, wondering what her mother was getting at.
"Rosalyn? Or perhaps Jamie? You know, you can't go meet a man alone, you never know what could happen," Mrs. Parker warned.
"Mom, I can meet a guy to talk about insurance. I seriously doubt he's some kind of pervert or rapist," Lenore sighed.
"You can never be sure," Mrs. Parker insisted. "You really should take someone with you. You never know what a man might try if he's alone with a girl. Especially in your case. He'll see your limp and know you're an easy target."
"I can take care of myself if a problem should arise. We're in Paris, do you really think no one's going to hear me if I scream for help?"
"Well, what if he knocks you unconscious or drugs you? What if he has a gun? That changes everything; don't try anything if he has a gun. Or a knife. I'm just worried about you, you really ought to take someone with you," Mrs. Parker repeated.
"Look, I have to go now, or else I'll be late."
"Take someone with you."
"Good-bye, Mom."
"Love you honey."
"Love you too, bye."
"Bye."
Lenore hung up the phone with a sigh. I swear, she treats me like I'm five years old going to my first slumber party and telling me to take a teddy bear to protect me from the monsters in my friend's closet. She stood and headed for her room, still thinking about how paranoid her mother was concerning her youngest daughter. She wouldn't tell Ember to take someone with her. But Ember's taken defense classes and can take care of herself. As if I could never manage to punch a guy or knee him where it counts if my life depended on it. Hell, if worst came to worst, I could always thrust the heel of my palm into his nose, either killing him if I put too much power behind it or merely breaking his nose if I put the right amount of power behind it. Either way, I'd be able to escape.
Erik was nowhere to be seen when she entered her room. She inspected her room, as though expecting to find him under the bed or desk. She hummed softly to herself while walking around the room, looking at all her things and wondering why she had to go back underground. When she reached the mirror, it slid to the side, scaring her half to death. A gloved hand appeared, and she took it instantly, letting herself be pulled back into the darkness of Erik's realm.
Erik was pleased to find that she didn't hesitate. By letting her aboveground today, he had given her ample opportunity to get in touch with the police or leave Paris. The fact that she returned, devoid of police escort, was proof that she was smart enough to do what was best for the Opera House.
"Do I still have to stay in the bedroom?" she asked curiously as he led her through the dark.
"Afraid so, ma petite," he said.
"Why?"
"Because it's the safest place for you."
"Well, can't I come out of the bedroom into the rest of the lair? Unless there's a sculpture there that's gonna eat me, I don't see why it wouldn't be safe."
"You would get in my way, and I am somewhat short on patience," Erik informed her. A mouse skittered away from them in the darkness; Lenore gave a fearful squeak and wrapped her arms around him.
"What was that?" she whispered.
If I respond, she'll pull away… Do not be a fool, Erik. She feels nothing other than lust for you. She does not love; she doesn't know how. A voice in the back of his mind argued that perhaps he didn't really know much of love either. "A mouse," he answered her.
"I think you're lying; it didn't sound like a mouse to me," she replied, still holding onto him, burying her face in his shirt.
"What else could it be?" he reasoned, a smile crossing his lips at her sudden display of helplessness and vulnerability. It gave him the feeling that she needed him; even if it wasn't true, it was a nice feeling. "Perhaps Ellen's getting jealous of the attention you receive from me."
"No, it didn't sound like a dead girl," she said, pulling back to look at him, despite the fact that her eyes could not penetrate the darkness to see him. "What if there's some wild animal in here, or maybe the siren's coming after us. You said yourself this place is dangerous, it could be anything."
"I assure you, ma chouchoute, the most dangerous thing under this Opera House is currently held captive in your embrace," Erik told her smoothly.
Lenore's cheeks turned pink and she quickly let go of him, mumbling apologies. He put a finger to her lips to silence her, as there was nothing to feel bad about; he had taken pleasure in the scenario. "You, uh, said a French word. What does it mean?" she inquired after a moment.
Erik found himself smiling wickedly as he decided to let her ponder that one out for a while. He would drop her subtle hints, but it was up to her to figure out that it was a romantic term. "We should continue; you must be tired after your outing," he said evasively.
"You're not gonna tell me what that sh-whatever means?" Lenore said, raising an eyebrow. "Goodness, I hope it's not something along the lines of 'scarlet woman' in French. Or perhaps it is the term for a word that would never pass a gentleman's lips."
"I'm insinuating nothing of the sort."
"You could be lying, how can I trust you?"
"You don't trust me to begin with, Mademoiselle. So why would you even worry that I might be lying to you? If you truly do not trust anyone, then you have already decided I am lying; therefore, whatever answer I give you will be dismissed as fabrication. I see very little point in telling you the truth, as it proves to be a waste of time," Erik said. "Of course, that's all assuming you are as withdrawn from humanity as you say. However, I believe you trust me, to some degree."
"Fine, have it your way," she muttered, turning on her heel to continue on. Naturally, that was quite impossible, as she didn't know the way and couldn't see. He chuckled at her obvious frustration. "Do you have to laugh at me?"
"Is it my fault that you're amusing?" he replied with a smile.
"It's your fault that you find me amusing," she muttered darkly. "And you could always keep your amusement to yourself, you know." This caused him to chuckle once again, only serving to infuriate her further. "Can we get a move on?" she snarled, crossing her arms and scowling like a child.
Still smiling from the pleasure he received from viewing her temper tantrums, Erik took hold of her upper arm and pulled her along through the darkness. She was truly a delight for him; she still had a childish element to her that required someone to take care of her and, sometimes, decide what was best for her, enforcing it if necessary. But she had a woman's desire to take care of herself and make her own way. Christine had never really had that independent streak; she always needed someone to take care of her, be it Erik or that damned Vicomte. Christine was obedient, providing no challenge to get her under his thumb. Lenore, on the other hand, would not succumb to him so easily; she was already putting up a fight.
