"Ladies and gentlemen, I would like to introduce to you. Erm, ah Mademoiselle..."
"Éponine." She gave a shy smile, her fists knotting into her skirts. Everyone's eyes were on her and she felt bare before them. Where was Erik when she needed him?
"Your surname please," Lefarve raised his brows, looking disappointed and aggravated.
"Mademoiselle Thénardier." She heard a snicker or two in the group of girls. She figured they'd heard her parent's name around town, they weren't exactly proudly known around.
"She and Monsieur-"
"Le fantome." Someone sneered in the crowd causing a clatter of laughter.
"It is Monsieur Erik Destler if you please." Éponine turned to see Erik striding across the stage proudly. Her eyes grew wide. For a second she hadn't even recognized him, if it hadn't been for that distinctive voice she wouldn't have. His cheek was completely natural looking, no ridges or redness or swelling. "You must accept my apology for my tardiness."
"Your face." Éponine whispered as he offered his arm for her to take. He gave her a half smile, the skin may look normal on the other side of his face but he still felt the mask against his skin.
Lefarve stood there, mouth agape, for a moment before catching himself. "He is the creative genius behind the new performance, as well as the male lead."
Éponine watched the girls face's as they stared at Erik. Of course they stared now, in awe of his handsome appearance. With two sides of his face, closely matching, he was a handsome gentleman. They did not know what he truly looked like, despite having heard whispers and rumours about the Opera Ghost. Once he opened his mouth to sing, she was fully aware every girl in the chorus' hearts would be set aflame. But they had never known what it meant to have their heart set aflame by the true Erik.
"I was hoping that we would begin rehearsals with the blocking and the song for, Somewhere."
"Ah, Monsieur Destler I was rather hoping we could do I Don't Know How to Love Him, I would like to see this girl sing by herself first, before we jump in any farther."
"I-"
"You can do it." Erik smiled, giving her arm a reassuring squeeze. "Remember to tighten your diaphragm and sing out like you're trying to hit the back of the auditorium. And breath."
"We don't have all day," one of the chorus girls shouted, surely hoping they would get to take her role and sing with the handsome stranger.
"Monsieur Lefarve, would you like the scene before it?"
"Yes, if you would." Lefarve cued the maestro, the harpsichord began to play the music that ran beneath the scene.
Éponine took a deep breath, letting the pretend begin. She turned to look at Erik, his face seemed so foreign to her. One more breath and she was ready, "Please, Tristan. Don't."
"Roxanne you cannot deny what you feel."
"I can and I will." Éponine turned her back to him, moving across the stage towards the corner of downstage right. "Go, Tristan."
"But not for good." Erik turned to exit the stage, standing just behind the curtains. Éponine glanced over her shoulder, moving back across the stage in a confused manner. Roxanne was so unsure of what she wanted. To love him or to not.
The music began to swell and she looked out at the audience, "I don't know how to love him. What to do, how to move him. I've been changed, yes really changed. In these past few days, when I've seen myself, I seem like someone else. I don't know how to take this. I don't see why he moves me.
He's a man. He's just a man. And I've had so many men before, in very many ways. He's just one more. Should I bring him down? Should I scream and shout? Should I speak of love, let my feelings out?"
She could hear the gasp of some of the girls and could feel Erik's proud smile.
"I never thought I'd come to this. What's it all about? Don't you think it's rather funny, I should be in this position. I'm the one who's always been so calm, so cool, no lover's fool. Running every show. He scares me so. I never thought I'd come to this. What's it all about? Yet, if he said he loved me, I'd be lost. I'd be frightened. I couldn't cope, just couldn't cope. I'd turn my head. I'd back away. I wouldn't want to know. He scares me so. I want him so. I love him so."
Clapping, there was clapping. She had done well. Éponine turned to see Erik returning to the stage and wrapping his arms around her in a loving embrace, "You did it mon fleur."
Lefarve clapped his hands together, "I think we have a star on our hands."
Antoinette stood in the wing, watching. How could she sing? How could she be dark haired and delicate, ivory skin and gentle smile? She had had no training, no experience. Hardly even knew Erik. But there she was the future star, the young prima donna, and Erik's lover. Everything she had worked so hard to be, but never would be. Unless...
There were ways to remove proud little stars.
"Let's go over Somewhere now." Lefarve said, motioning for the commotion to stop. "I have no doubts of your voice now, nor do I doubt Destler's voices is not superb however I would like to see how your voices mix together."
"Be prepared," Erik grinned, staring out proudly at the empty auditorium. He would finally be able to perform for an audience, with the help of Éponine as his mask. His face, though it was "normal" to most, was still his weakness. He knew it looked average now, but the doubts about the plaster were weighing heavy. It could move or slide if it was touched wrong or moved too much in singing. He had always been his weakest without his mask. But Éponine being on stage with him rid him of the fear.