Title: Help Me Say Goodbye
Rating: M
Word count: ~86k
Characters: Erik, Christine, Meg, Madame Giry, Raoul, André, Firmin, Reyer, Piangi, and sundry members of the opera company, some of which belong to me and some don't.
Disclaimer: Anything you recognise from 'Phantom of the Opera' does not belong to me.
The afternoon's rehearsal was much more difficult. In the morning, Christine had been alone with Reyer, going over the score and her solo arias. The afternoon was spent rehearsing a crowd scene from act one, Don Juan watching Aminta as she walked through a market. Much of the time was spent on the dancing in the scene, and Christine had her own choreography to think about as well – Erik had written the part for her, after all, had included her in some of the dancing in this scene.
But even when rehearsing, she felt eyes upon her. She felt the curious, gossiping stares of the cast as they sat at the edges of the room and watched, or stumbled through their blocking whilst trying to keep her within sight.
She felt them watching her, and hated it. And yet she knew she must endure it, and more besides, once it became known that she had broken her engagement with Raoul.
She was at least a little used to it now; ever since the masquerade, people had been staring, pointing and whispering. Her association with the Ghost was cemented in the minds of those who worked in the opera house.
And at least, she consoled herself, Raoul had not made an appearance. She'd been half expecting him to disrupt rehearsals, to try to speak to her again. She was sure he hadn't left the opera house, sure he would try to find her and talk to her, but at least he didn't interrupt the rehearsal to do so. That would have been cause for even more gossip.
Christine tried to push everything away, tried to focus on the rehearsal – the dancing, the blocking, the words of the song and the wonderful music – but it was hard. It was very hard, and by the time Reyer dismissed them, Christine was tired. She was not used to the dancing anymore, felt the strain of the façade she had constructed to get through the day.
She wanted to go to her bedroom, to curl up in her bed and push the world away; but she could not. Even if she managed to get up to the dormitories without being stopped, she knew her friends would be waiting. She hadn't spoken to any of them since…since before Erik had taken her.
They would have questions; Meg would still have questions. And Christine didn't think she would be able to escape to the dormitories anyway, thought it far more likely that Raoul would find her, or perhaps the managers – or even Carlotta, who had not made an appearance today, not needed for the afternoon's rehearsal.
So many people wanting things from her.
"Christine?"
"Yes," she said, shook herself free of her thoughts, found Meg waiting for her. The practice room was mostly empty, people filtering out slowly, and Christine went to the side of the room, sat to take off her ballet slippers. Meg came with her, flopped down on the floor and stretched out, lifted her arms above her head and yawned.
"Oh, I'm so tired," she complained. "At least there's no practice this evening."
"Yes, that's something," Christine murmured, put her ordinary shoes on and paused, glanced around to see who was still in the room. Only Reyer, by the piano, muttering to himself as he sifted through papers. "Meg, let's go out tonight," she said then, and Meg glanced up at her, her surprise obvious. "Let's go for a walk along the river," Christine went on. "We can find a café to have supper in. Let's just go out."
"Maman won't like it," said Meg practically. "And we're both tired, Christine."
"I haven't been outside in nearly three days, Meg," said Christine, kept her voice low so Reyer couldn't overhear her. "I need to get out. Please."
Meg looked up at her, lips pursed together and eyes narrowed. "Maman won't like it," she repeated, but it was clear she was persuadable, and Christine put her ballet shoes with her score, looked at Meg hopefully. Meg sighed, rolled her eyes, started to smile. "Well, you can tell her," she said, "since you're all grown up now." Christine stuck her tongue out childishly, and Meg returned the expression, broke into peals of laughter that made Reyer glance up at them. Christine laughed too, revelled in it, let all her cares fall away for a few moments and simply enjoyed being with her friend.
"That's fair enough," Christine agreed when at last they ceased laughing. "I'll tell Madame. Let's hurry and change. If we're ready to go, it will be harder for her to say no."
"True," said Meg, grinning up at her, and she stood up, waited for Christine to gather her things together and rise. They nodded a farewell at Monsieur Reyer and hurried from the practice room. "Let's go the back way," Meg suggested as they went down the corridor. "We can avoid most people, that way."
Christine agreed wholeheartedly – the back way was darker, and less frequented than the normal routes up through the opera house, involved going into a small, cramped corridor and up a flight of stairs that might more accurately be described as a ladder. But Raoul did not know it, and she doubted if the managers did either. Certainly Carlotta would never dream of using that way; it was generally used by stage hands or dancers, and was cleaned less often than the main passages.
They hurried up to the dormitories, found some of their friends waiting in their bedroom – little Jammes, and Giselle, the former pirouetting around the room and the latter lounging on Meg's bed.
"Oh, go away, do," said Meg, a trifle rudely. "We're going out this evening."
"Oh, aren't we important?" said Giselle, making a face. "Christine, where on earth have you been? Why wouldn't you talk to anyone last night or this morning?"
"I hit my head," said Christine, feigning light-heartedness. "Somebody was passing the graveyard and looked after me until I was well enough to come back. And I'm sorry, but I've been so busy. I missed two whole days of rehearsal." She went to the dresser, caught up her hairbrush and tried to tidy her hair.
"Oh, but…" Jammes started but then lapsed into silence, and Christine glanced at her, found the younger girl frowning in confusion. "But everyone says the Ghost had you," the young dancer said at last.
"Everyone is wrong," said Meg tartly, and she tried to push Giselle off her bed. "Oh, go away, please. I need to get changed."
"Suit yourself," said Giselle, rolled off the bed and reached for Jammes. "Come on, we're not wanted," she said. "Christine's ever so important now, she doesn't have time for us lowly dancers." She glanced at Christine, her eyes dancing with mischief.
"Oh, don't be so silly," said Christine, laughed as Giselle had intended. "It's just Meg and I want to go out." Giselle shrugged her shoulders elegantly, shepherded Jammes from the room and shut the door. Christine's smile faltered, and she turned to Meg – but Meg was wriggling out of her practice dress, didn't see Christine's expression.
"They all think I was with the Ghost," Christine said after a moment. "No matter how much I say otherwise, nobody will believe me."
"Well, it is the truth," Meg pointed out, pulling on a dress and buttoning it up with deft fingers. "I know you don't want people to know, but honestly, did you expect anything else?"
"No," Christine sighed. "Yes. Oh, I don't know, really." She found gloves and a scarf, her second-best cloak, checked that she had money in her purse. "Are you ready, Meg?" Meg nodded, caught up her outdoor things, put them on as they left the bedroom and hurried down to Madame Giry's room.
Raoul was there, stood on the threshold and speaking rapidly to Madame Giry. Christine hesitated, clutched Meg's arm and wanted to go, wanted to turn and run – but she couldn't. Raoul turned, saw her, gave a smothered exclamation and stepped towards her.
"Christine," he said, "I've been looking all over for you. We need to talk."
Christine glanced over his shoulder, found Madame Giry watching her with an impassive face. She glanced at Meg, found her friend biting her lip. She looked back at Raoul and shook her head.
"No," she said. "There's nothing more to say, Raoul." She flinched back when he reached out, frowned at him. "There's nothing," she said softly. "We are no longer engaged, Raoul. It's over."
He dropped his hand, shook his head. "I can't believe that," he said. "Christine, I won't believe it. He's got to you – he's threatening you, I know he is!"
"Oh, Raoul," she said with a sigh, hoped she was concealing her worry well enough to fool him. Meg pressed close to her side, glanced up at her, and Christine tried to think of the right words. Tried to think of some way to persuade Raoul that the Ghost had nothing to do with this decision.
She must make him believe it; for her sake, and for Erik's.
"Raoul, he has nothing to do with it," she said to him. "I told you that. I don't want to marry you, Raoul." She paused, shook her head again. "You said doubts are normal," she said quietly, "but I've been having doubts for so long, Raoul. You can't give me all the things I need, and…and I'm certain now that I can't be the woman you deserve."
"I love you," said Raoul, and she could see the hopelessness he felt, could see how exhausted he was. Two days of worrying for her, and then she had returned and broken their engagement. Christine felt sorry for him, sorry for her own actions – but her compassion had its limits. "Christine, surely, whatever doubts you have – whatever you think – surely if we just talked about it –"
"No," she said, cut him off and lifted a hand to pull her hood over her head. "No, Raoul. There's no good talking about it. It will only hurt you more." She looked at Madame Giry again, over Raoul's shoulder. "Madame, Meg and I would like to go out for a walk, and for supper. May we?"
"If you wish," said Madame Giry, a little diffidently. Meg started to speak but checked herself, glanced up at Christine with wide eyes. "Do you have money? Make sure you stay warm, both of you. And don't be back late."
"Yes, Maman," said Meg, and she tugged at Christine's arm, glanced from her to Raoul. "Come on, Christine," she said. "Let's go."
"Christine," said Raoul again, "please."
"No, Raoul," she said. "No." And she let Meg pulled her down the corridor, around the corner, away from Raoul.