Bittersweet Chapter 37: Turning point

A/n: It's gonna be a bumpy ride! I don't own Phantom of the Opera. If I did, I wouldn't be writing this.

Claude Malhomme's PoV

I make sure I stand in the shadows and remain unseen, as I watch the employees of the Garnier celebrate the start of yet another successful opera. I notice Godain standing in the crowd, having the time of her life.

"Well, that's gonna end soon, wench," I mumble. By the end of the night everyone will see her as she truly is; an arrogant, power-hungry madwoman, who sleeps around with the most notorious criminal in Paris.

My plans came surprisingly easy to fruition; all I had to do was order that old fool Faibles to spread a little gossip among the opera house workers. It didn't matter if they believed Faibles' words, spreading doubt about the virtues of their mistress was sufficient. After all, doesn't she behave like a man? If she had acted like a noble woman should, everyone would have written it off as the ramblings of a drunkard but because of her eccentricities, Godain's employees were starting to wonder if there was a kernel of truth in Faibles stories.

If people started to wonder about the gossip, they'd remember it. The remembrance would cause doubt. Judging by the looks of the workers at the party at given Godain, they already were wondering if the stories they heard through the grapevine, were true. Especially the most gullible workers tended to believe that smoke equaled fire and oh boy, they smelled smoke.

As for me; all I had to do was bribe the guard, come to the right place and say the right things at the right time.

A piece of cake, really.

I interrupt Godain's speech when she mentions how prosperous and harmonious the season had been so far.

"Do you know why the season has been so harmonious?! Because she has been working with the Opera Ghost!" I yell as I point at Godain.

Chaos ensues. In a second, the crowd turns against her, just as I planned.

Celia's PoV

I force myself to calm down. After all, if I panic, the crowd will see it as a confession.

What the hell do I do?!

I quickly remember discussing an escape plan with Erik. As soon as anyone found out he was still alive, he knew how to hide and make sure his living quarters would look like it hadn't been inhabited in months.

Step one: Warn Erik and makes sure he hides.

I notice Nadir standing in the corner. As if he had known somehow this night would end in trouble, he had been making himself surprisingly invisible at this party somehow. He nods, almost imperceptibly.

Step two: Distract the crowd so no one will notice Nadir's absence.

There are two ways I could react to the accusation. Deny, which I doubt would help or ridicule the accusation. One thing is certain, though: I have to act quickly.

"Silence!" I yell.

Surprisingly, most people listen. Then again, they're probably curious about my reaction and don't want to miss any of the drama unfolding in front of them.

"Of course I collaborate with the Ghost. It was always my deepest desire to work with a arsonist, murderer and, according to the story, an extremely ugly madman," I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm. I feel guilty saying all those things about the man I care for more deeply than I wish to admit but make sure it isn't noticeable by the crowd.

"Really, I couldn't imagine a lovelier way to spend my time," I continue. "The only downside to this amazing plan, is that the Ghost has been officially dead for a year."

I let out a shrill scream of fake excitement as a channel my best impersonation of every stereotypical airheaded girl I had ever met. "Maybe I've been talking to a real ghost then!"

In the meantime, Nadir has left to warn Erik. I hope everything will be alright.

My little theatrical display works; most people of the crowd either laugh or send disbelieving looks to Malhomme. Malhomme may be a pig but he isn't stupid and he knows the crowd is turning against him.

He applauds sarcastically. "Well done mylady! However, why don't we check ourselves if the ghost is real or not? Everyone who want to, can join us!"

I swallow back the curse I want to utter as a reaction to that remark. I see movement in the corner of my eye; Nadir is back. Hopefully Erik has left before half of the opera house decides to pay a visit.

I deliberately gesture to the people to make sure they join me and Malhomme. After all, if I had something to hide, I wouldn't act like an excited child, wouldn't I?

In the end, about 50 people join Malhomme and me. Meg and Antoinette have joined me as well.

"The last time this happened, people were genuinely angry," Meg whispers. "Now they act like were going on an exciting trip."

I nod in agreement. Meg's observation ads proof to my own theory: before, people wanted justice for Erik's crime, now, they just want a nice story to tell. As a result, the moment they discover Erik's living quarters, looking abandoned, they will turn against Malhomme for spoiling their little adventure.

Most of the people who join us, only started working for the Garnier after the fire. To them, Erik is truly noting more than a ghost story. They had reacted the same if Malhomme had announced he had seen the monster of Lochness in the underground lake.

We arrive at Erik's living quarters. I have no idea how he managed it in such a short time but the place looks like it hasn't been lived in for over a year. It's deserted .

The crowd is unanimous in its disappointment and just like I predicted, it turns against Malhomme.

Old Jean has already left to bring the police over to have Malhomme arrested for disturbance. I let him. Not just out of vengeance but also for the damage he'd try to cause. What if the crowd had run rampant destroying the opera house nearly just as badly as the fire did, nearly two years ago now?

After all the excitement, the partygoers calm down and continue the celebration, only a little more subdued compared to the beginning of the evening.

It's nearly 2.30 in the morning when I can finally get some sleep. In the privacy of my room, I can finally allow myself to openly worry myself sick about Erik. I know he isn't caught yet, I would have heard it. For the first time in years, I pray.

Just when I want to grab my nightdress and change, someone knocks at my door. Bleary-eyed and hesitant, I open it. I smile when I see Berenger but it dies when I see the look on his face.

"We need to talk. Come with me," is all he says.