A/N: Hello again! As always, thank you so much for all the wonderful reviews, they motivate me so much. So, I'm leaving soon for a camping trip and there's a chance that I won't be able to update again for a week, but if you all keep reviewing I'll work extra hard to get one more chapter up before I go. Enjoy!
"Mysterious goings-on, reported by some at the theatre, are beginning to cause a stir. Some report finding things missing or out of place; some tell of strange happenings around the theatre and even say that notes have been found that are seemingly from no one; but some, who undoubtedly have either the most inventive imaginations or the keenest eyes, have gone so far as to claim having seen a strange man in the farthest recesses of the theatre, shrouded by shadows, and have taken to calling this spectral man the phantom of the opera…"
- NY Times
Meg's POV
Things seemed to go back to normal for a while, or at least as far as I could tell at the time. There were no more mysterious disappearances from behind locked dressing room doors, or anything else that might have led me to believe that there was more going on than what I knew about. After every performance, Raoul showed up at Christine's dressing room, offering to take her out somewhere, and she accepted most of the time.
Meanwhile, thought, rumors were spreading like wildfire about the theatre being haunted. At first I thought that it was just the ballet girls having seen a few too many horror movies and trying to frighten each other and themselves. But then stories started to circulate about a strange man lurking around in the shadows of the theatre. Even these stories I wouldn't have believed if they had come only from the ballet girls. But one of the stagehands, Joseph Buquet, swore up and down that he had seen the man himself, and told anyone who was willing to listen.
"He kept himself cloaked in darkness," Buquet would say. "I couldn't make out his face, only his form. But his very presence was enough to give me chills, as sinister as it was. I knew he was there, just as sure as I know you're here in front of me now, but in the blink of an eye he was gone. Vanished."
I still couldn't shake the feeling that things weren't as they seemed. Whenever I asked Mother what she thought of this so-called phantom, all she would say was that there was no ghost, that everything was fine and that I needed to mind my own business. But I couldn't. Not until things made sense, not until I found out what was going on.
Christine's POV
It seemed like everyone in the theatre's cast was gathered waiting for the announcement of the next production's cast. We all stood outside the managers' office, and when the door opened Andre and Firmin came out, stone-faced, and simply posted a list on the wall before retreating back into the office. Murmurs began to ripple through the crowd as people read the list, sounding excited, confused, and even upset. When I managed to shove my way to the front, I quickly scanned the names and froze, shocked. That was my name next to the main role, and not even as an understudy, but as the primary performer! And apparently I wasn't the only one who was surprised.
Behind me I could hear Carlotta yelling that she should be in that role, loudly insulting me and my voice, and even "whoever the hell taught her to sing so terribly." When I tried to walk past her to go to my dressing room, she caught me by the arm. "This is not your role," she hissed in her thick accent, venom in her voice. "You do not have the voice for it, and certainly not the skill. Believe me, as soon as I speak to the managers you'll be back in the chorus where you belong."
I shoved past her, feeling angry and not caring to listen to her any longer. I had tried my best to ignore her, but you can't just stop hearing whenever you want to. I was still in my uncomfortable stage clothes and just wanted to change and forget all the things Carlotta was saying about me. I barely noticed when I ran into Raoul, and would've just kept walking if he hadn't caught me. "Christine," he said. "Hey, I was hoping I'd catch up to you." His hands were on my hips and he was really close to me. I couldn't help but feel uncomfortable at the unexpected nearness.
"I don't really feel much like going out tonight, Raoul," I said. "I'd rather just have a quiet night tonight."
Raoul smiled a little, running his hands along my waist and up my sides. "I know exactly what you mean," he breathed, trailing his lips down my neck. No, clearly he didn't know what I meant. He had kissed me after our last date when he was dropping me off, and I admit that it was nice, but if he thought that one kiss immediately led to –
"Raoul, I just can't tonight, I don't feel well," I lied, gently pushing him away from me to put some space between us and walking off without another word, completely flustered. Was that all he wanted from me? I didn't want to think that he was just using me, but part of me had always wondered why a boy like him would be interested in me. Could I really just have been stupid enough to not see the possibility until now?
By the time I reached my dressing room, I was so frustrated that I was close to tears. I slammed the door shut and started tugging at the zipper at the back of my dress, cursing when it wouldn't budge. "What's wrong, my dear?" I jumped slightly when I heard the familiar voice – I hadn't even noticed that Erik was there – and I dropped my hands to my sides. Erik was quickly beside me as I fought back tears.
"I don't know, Erik," I sniffled, fighting the urge to run straight into the arms of the man who seemed to be the only constant in my life. "It's just been a bad night and I don't know what to do and now I can't even get this stupid dress unzipped…" my words started to run together as the spilled out faster and faster, tears spilling out with them. I thought for sure that Erik would just tell me that I was overreacting and needed to calm down. But he didn't.
"It will be alright, Christine," Erik said softly, wiping away my tears with his thumb. "You may not feel like it now, but you have a strong spirit. You'll be alright no matter what happens."
I sniffed, smiling a little. "Thank you, Erik," I said, hugging him before I could stop myself. "I don't know what I'd do without you. This might sound a little weird," I said as I pulled away from him. "But could you help me with my dress real quick? I think the zipper's caught."
Erik looked at me for a moment, unsure. But we were friends, and it's not like he thought of me any other way. There was nothing wrong with him helping me, right? He gave his consent and I turned my back to him, feeling his hands trail along my bare shoulders as he brushed aside my hair. I shivered, suddenly feeling hyper-aware of him, of every movement, every breath. My heart quickened, and I wondered how I could feel like this. Something about Erik just made me feel… alive.
Then in one smooth motion, Erik undid the zipper. I held the front of the dress up so that only my back was exposed, but there was still something about the moment that felt very intimate. The air felt strangely thick and charged, but it wasn't uncomfortable. Erik lightly ran his fingers along my back and I sighed at the sensation, relaxing at his touch. But then he did something that I hadn't expected him to: I felt his lips trailing across my shoulders, just barely touching my skin. And it really wasn't bad-feeling. It actually felt really good. If I had stopped to think about it then, I would have been really confused. Erik was my teacher, my master. Did he really find me attractive like that?
But I couldn't think at the moment, my mind was so clouded. So instead I leaned into him, pressing his lips more solidly to my skin. He wrapped his arms around my waist as his lips travelled to my neck. It didn't feel at all like when Raoul had kissed me. Raoul's kisses had been urgent, lustful. But Erik's… His kisses were filled with passion and longing, desire that was at once both pure and dark. It was intoxicating, and I found myself aching for more. I turned around in his arms so that I was facing him and pressed my body to his as he kissed my throat, and he sighed deeply.
I ran my fingers through his dark hair as his lips moved up my neck and to my jaw. "Erik," I whispered so breathlessly that it was more of a gasp. I held to him tightly, not sure if I could stand on my own with my head swimming the way it was. I wanted to kiss him, to know what his lips felt like against my own.
I was so wrapped up that I almost didn't hear the knock at the door. "Christine?" Meg called. "Are you ready to go?"
Erik froze the instant he heard Meg's voice and stepped away from me, looking like he had only just now realized what he was doing. "Just a minute," I called breathlessly to Meg, barely remembering to hold up the front of my unzipped dress now that I wasn't pressed against Erik. "Erik," I said softly so Meg wouldn't hear.
But when I turned to where he had stood just a moment before, he was gone, leaving me more helplessly confused than before.
Please, please, please tell me what you think! If I get lots of reviews, I'll make sure to get another chapter up before I leave for camping
