Onyxx: Whoo! Had to fast-forward a week because you really don't want to hear the beginnings of Chelsea's singing lessons.
Chelsea: Hey!
Onyxx: Just kidding. Actually, she's very good. She just sucks at hitting high notes.
Erik: Do not insult my student, you ignorant cow!
Onyxx: Takes one to know one.
Chelsea: Yeah, it does, Erik.
Erik: Great. Now they're teaming up against me. THE WHOLE WORLD IS CONSPIRING AGAINST ME!
Onyxx: Erik, Erik, calm down. Calm. It's okay.
Erik: IT'S NOT OKAY! You're all plotting against me!
Chelsea: Erik, no one is plotting against you. Except maybe Raoul.
Onyxx: Where is Raoul, by the way?
Chelsea: I tied him up and locked him in the basement.
Onyxx: Ah. How's his nose?
Chelsea: Rebroken.
Onyxx: You broke his nose?
Chelsea: Yep. It was fun.
Erik: Be that as it may, we have a chapter to introduce.
Onyxx: Ah, yes. Chapter Eight, a wonderful chapter. I loved writing it.
Chelsea: (hums 'Here Comes The Bride')
Chapter Eight:
One Week Later
I fiddled with the buttons of my coat, then readjusted my mask. Whether she wanted me to wear it or not, I was not showing my deformity to Chelsea's entire family. I didn't want them to pity me, nor fear me. The mask, itself, anyway, was an important part of me. If I didn't wear it on my wedding day—despite it not really being a wedding—I would remember this as the day the Phantom of the Opera, the Opera Ghost, and the Angel of Music were not present for Erik's wedding. Fake wedding, I reminded myself. It had become hard to discern the fine line between fantasy and reality with me and Chelsea as of late. I think . . . I think I'm growing . . . fond of her. I mean . . . oh, you get the idea!
As I finally had my mask on the way I wanted it, Matilda knocked on the door before entering. She held something behind her back, and gave it to me.
Two shining gold rings glinted up at me. I looked at her, shaking my head. "No. I cannot take them from you."
"You will," Matilda insisted. "They have been passed down in our family for ages. When one of us Ivys dies, we give our wedding rings to the next couple. Of course, she'll be a Devereaux now," Matilda added, shrugging. "Still. It's a tradition."
I sighed. "All right. We'll wear them."
Matilda smiled. "Come on, now. Come meet the rest of the family."
She tugged me down the stairs and into the sitting room, where a large crowd of at least twenty relatives had gathered, smiling and chatting.
One girl stared at me for a long time, with the same dark hair and blue eyes as the rest of the family, though not quite as pale as Chelsea. I wondered if maybe she was just curious about the mask.
I was introduced to every last one of them. Uncle Timothy, Aunt Laurie, Cousin William . . . the list was endless.
Finally, we reached the family of the teenage girl. Uncle Sam (I swear, that was his real name), Aunt Alice and their daughter, Toni.
"Nice to meet you, Mr. Devereaux," Sam said, shaking my hand. He was a large bear of a man, with a full beard and hair on his arms and the back of his hands. Almost seven feet tall, he towered over me, and I was at first convinced he actually was a grizzly.
I smiled. "Please, just call me Erik," I said. I turned to Alice, who smiled and said how wonderful it was that Chelsea had fallen in love with such a fine man. I tried not to laugh, then turned to Toni.
She narrowed her eyes suspiciously, and I tilted my head, shaking her hand.
Toni pulled my ear down to her and whispered, "I know who you are. You're the Phantom of the Opera."
I must've looked shocked, because Sam and Alice had a worried look on their face. Covering it up, I quickly stood with a smile and made up some story about how, "Yes, dear, I already know Chelsea snores."
I turned to Matilda and babbled about needing some air, then went outside. Leaning against the railing of the wraparound porch, I tried to breathe, but the air wouldn't force itself into my lungs.
A small hand on my back made me jump, swearing under my breath, but it was only Chelsea.
"What's wrong, Erik?" she said, concerned.
I turned back to the beautiful landscape. "It's not safe here," I said, trying to control my voice. "Your cousin—Toni—recognized me. She knows I am the Phantom of the Opera."
"Toni won't tell," Chelsea said, shaking her head.
I scoffed. "How do you know?"
"Because I saw the way you looked after you talked to her and gave her a lecture." Chelsea smirked. "And besides, Toni would cover for you. Her family worked on the Underground Railroad during the war. She's good at keeping secrets."
"Keeping secrets for murderers?" I sighed, turning back around, and pulled Chelsea into an embrace. "I hope you're right. Or we might have to go to Mexico."
Laughing, she pulled away. "Come on. We must prepare for our 'wedding.'" She pulled me back into the house, and then went upstairs to get ready.
Matilda drove me in her coach to the chapel, a small white shurch with a little cross on the steeple. I had to wait nearly an hour before the reception actually started.
I stood, barely listening to the preacher's words as I waited for Chelsea to come out of the doors and get this over with. I had the rings in my pocket.
Finally, after an agonizing wait, the doors burst open, and an angel walked down the aisle with Bill's arm linked around hers. Chelsea smiled at me from behind the veil, those blue eyes shining like sapphires. The wedding dress was white and pristine, angelic and holy in appearance. From its make, I assumed it had also been passed down through the generations.
I couldn't focus on the priest's words, only Chelsea's blue eyes behind the veil. I repeated the vows mechanically, not really paying attention, and took the rings from my pocket. I slipped it on Chelsea's finger, and she gave me the other.
"Do you, Erik Devereaux, take this woman as your lawfully wedded wife?" the preacher asked.
"I do," I said. This was becoming more awkward by the minute.
He asked her, and she looked into my eyes as she said "I do."
"You may kiss the bride."
Uh-oh. I had only kissed someone once before. Actually, Christine had kissed me. I had virtually no part in it.
I threw back her veil and leaned forward slowly, taking Chelsea's hands in my own, and kissed her. It was . . . awkward. There's no other word that can descibe the 'wedding,' and yet, 'awkward' doesn't do it justice.
As I pulled away, I saw a hazy, confused look in Chelsea's eyes. She was blushing madly, her face cherry-red.
After the church had dispersed and Chelsea and I arrived back at Matilda's, I tossed myself onto the bed like a ragdoll, exhausted.
This had been a long, agonizing day, and sleep would come too easily.
Chelsea laughed. "What, no wedding night?" she asked, giggling.
I managed a smile as she lay down beside me. "No. Too tired."
She laughed and pulled the blankets around her, turning onto her side to sleep.
Without a moment's hesitation, I turned around to curl myself around her, one arm around her waist, pulling her closer. She seemed confused at first, but if she protested, I didn't hear it. I was already asleep.
Onyxx: D'aaaaaaaaww!
Chelsea: Erik, you're actually capable of affection! :D I'm so proud of you!
Erik: I will strangle you both.
Onyxx: Nah. I think you're just a big softie.
Chelsea: Hahaha yeah. A big teddy bear.
Erik: (growls and chases them with lasso)
