37

"Can't Tell Erik"

We ended up spending a little, treating ourselves to a fancy feast of ham and cheese on baguettes and mugs of cheap cherry wine. Kathryn had spent a little more getting a present for Elizabeth, a small doll with a hand-painted porcelain face. Dusk had descended upon us before we made it back to the Opera Populaire. I was in high spirits, we had passed several finery shops that carried beautiful mirrors, and the next "rest day" we had, the days between the shows, I planned to return them and find out where one could get a mirror fixed. That, and the wonderful day I had with Kathryn, our friendship mended, made me happier than I had been in quite a while. Giddy, and perhaps a little tipsy, as I didn't feel entirely steady on my feet, we hobbled back to the opera house, clinging to each other. I wanted to just fall into bed and sleep away my wooziness, but a foreign object lying on my pillow distracted me from that mission. What the….? An envelope. Ripping it open, I pulled out the folded letter written in familiar scratchy scrawl, I squinted over the writing in the dim candlelight.

Gwendolyn,

I humbly request your forgiveness for my behavior as of late, and sincerely hope that you will accept this small token. My apologies.

Yours,

O.G.

An astonished grin broke across my face. He apologized! There was nothing to apologize for, I'm the one that's been so crazy…but still, I can't believe he did it! Scooping up the envelope, I moved to put it on my nightstand when something heavy fell out. With a soft poof it hit my pillow, grabbing at the candlelight, glinting enticingly. My breath caught as I picked up the object. The necklace…The silver chain and charm that I had admired in the shop hours ago weighed in my palm. Tripping over to the candle, I gazed at it more closely, its simplistic beauty fascinating. How…how did he get this? How did he know…? Although I tried to suppress it, glee bubbled up from within, I grinned more broadly, putting on the necklace. Blowing out the candle, I sank into my bed.

"If you're out there, thank you…" I mumbled, drifting into sleep.

- - -

"Gwendolyn! Gwen!" The morning had come too early, the general commotion snapping me out of dreams in which I would have liked to have stayed. Me, Erik, a puppy, my apartment…alas, 'tis not to be. I was now delivering costumes to their individual performers, or their assistants, still thinking on the dreams. They had been exceptionally vivid, and it seemed disappointingly unfair of life to give them without a trace of hope that they would ever come true. A familiar voice broke my reverie, I glanced up to see Nathaniel approaching with Graham Scott. He was a nice young man, but was probably the last person, besides the Inspector, that I wanted to see. Ugh, now I have to come clean…Probably what I deserve anyway. Nathaniel was grinning broadly, surprisingly Graham was too. Though I felt a little sour at their interrupting my daydreams, I had to smile back, a little caught up in their excitement.

"What are you two so happy about?" Nathaniel clasped my hands in greeting, Graham bowed, delicately kissing the back of my hand.

"Marie is hoarse as a toad. I believe she must have woken up with it, so the understudy is performing." Marie was the large, irate diva playing Juliet, and Nathaniel despised her, only despising that he had to play her lover more than the actress herself. I chuckled, then turned to Graham, who was still clutching my hand.

"And you, Mr. Scott? Surely you're not delighting in her sickness as well." His smile broadened.

"Actually, no, Miss Shepherd. I was merely smiling at the news that you, are in fact, not married." I forced as charming a laugh as I could muster. He doesn't seem mad…

"Please forgive me for the deception, Mr. Scott. A gala full of sneaky young nobles is a dangerous place for a lady without an escort. I wanted only to visit with a friend, not deal with intrigues and gossip." He nodded, emphatically.

"I understand perfectly, Miss—" I held up a hand.

"Gwen. Just Gwen."

"Gwen." He bowed once more over my hand, and although I was flattered, I mostly wanted him to let go. He opened his mouth probably to spout more fluffy language, and I was secretly grateful when Nathaniel cut in.

"Will you be attending the show tonight, Gwen?" I gave him a grim smile, shaking my head.

"Sorry, Nat, but I have to work in the wings tonight. I'll watch as much as I can from the sidelines…"

"The wings?" He grimaced slightly.

"Yes, I will be fetching water, costumes, props…anything to make you actors' lives easier." He noted my sarcastic tone and chuckled accordingly, apologetic.

"You will have my gratitude then, I will seek you out whenever I wish for a drink. A favor, though? The understudy is nearly as screechy as Marie, perhaps you could give me something stronger than water?" I laughed at that, picturing a wobbly Romeo warbling out his declaration of love to a horrified Juliet.

"If you want to see me fired. Otherwise, I'm sure you'll manage. Will you be attending the performance tonight, Mr. Scott?"

"Graham, if you please, Gwen. Yes, I will be in attendance. I have business to conduct…"

"Business?" He was being vague on purpose, I had no idea why. What could he possibly be doing at the show?

"Monsieur Clark!" The three of us glanced towards the stage, Mssr. Reyer was calling for Nathaniel. He shifted towards us again, giving each of us a brief nod.

"See you at the show…" Jogging onto the stage, he began to belt out his duet with the understudy. I chuckled, and then focused back on Graham.

"Forgive me, but I must get back to work." He gave be another bow.

"Perhaps I will see you after this evening's triumph?" He questioned, eyes adorably hopeful. I dismissed the urge to roll mine. He's cute, but no…I curtsied a little in response.

"Perhaps. Good bye, Graham." With that, I retreated backstage, a little relieved to be rid of him. There was nothing wrong with him, he was pleasant, charming, nice, I just wasn't interested. Normally I would be jumping with just the attention. What's different? I knew the answer already. It wasn't Graham's attention that I wanted. Handing out the rest of the costumes slung over my arm, I wondered if Erik was around, sneaking along the flies. Instinctively glancing above, I was almost disappointed when I didn't see anything.

"Don't be stupid," I snarled at myself, forcing my mind back to my work.

- - -

The hours seemed to melt away, before I knew it, the audience members were filtering into the stage hall, shuffling into their seats, chattering excitedly. I hung in the wings, peeking at the performers scurrying around in effort to get ready before the curtains parted.

"Gwen!" A strong hand grabbed at my arm, I was jerked backward to face a panicky Nathaniel. I hadn't been around to see him pre-show before, and briefly wondered if his behavior now was normal. He quickly dispelled that thought, though.

"Nice tights, Nat—"

"Gwen, please listen! I just saw Fauvre backstage! I think he is looking for you!"

"What, what the hell do you mean 'he's looking for me'!" His eyes were wide, his expression alone was enough to unsettle me. The fact that the Inspector could be looking for me scared the crap out of me.

"I do no know what he wants, but I saw him back there, looking for something! You should leave, now!" A thunderous roar of clapping drowned out all sound, Nathaniel was already screaming over it, pushing me away. The commotion alone made me nervous, Nathaniel's warning close to frantic.

"I can't! If you haven't noticed, Nathaniel, the stage director is keeping tabs on everybody's work! I have to be here! Dammit!" I viciously rubbed my face with my palms, and then raked my fingers through my hair, trying to calm myself. My eyes darted up to Nathaniel, who was still gripping me, urging me to flee. Behind him, the curtains began to raise. "Go, go! I'll be fine, go!" I shoved him backwards, and with a glance behind, he jogged to his place as the curtain lifted. Spinning away, I anxiously smoothed by apron, forcing myself to carry on. I haven't done anything wrong, everything's fine, I'm fine. Before I had even walked five feet away, someone thrust a rosebush into my arms, directing me to put it on stage during the scene shift. The first act was a blur, I didn't even have time to think about Fauvre, and didn't see him anywhere on my trips to backstage. Beginning to think that either Nathaniel was mistaken, or that the Inspector had left, I went to fetch fresh water for the performers.

The pitcher full, I jostled my way through the crowds of hyper actors, streaming into the wings as the curtains closed. In the surge of bodies, most of the water ended up sloshed all over the front of my dress. Barking out some curses, I was still unnoticed, and stomped into the back to attempt to dry off. Shoving open the back doors, I let out a yelp as I discovered Fauvre, his stocky figure hunched over a tall, clothed rectangle. Hoping that he didn't see me, I swiftly stepped backwards, meaning to disappear through the doors. My luck, typically, was against me as his gaze swung up to meet me, a droll smirk hanging on his thin lips.

"Ah, Mademoiselle Shepherd, exactly whom I wanted to see." I stiffened, trying not to appear uneasy. I haven't done anything wrong. There are people around, he can't do anything.

"Really, Inspector? And why is that?" His lips curled into an unpleasant smile.

"Just a few questions, Mam'selle…Pertaining to this," He lifted the cloth, revealing a large gold gilt frame with shards of glass splintered around the edges of the frame. My mirror! I gaped, then quickly closed my mouth, but he had already seen my reaction. Too late now, he already knows it's mine. He no doubt stole it from my room! Bastard! My plan to find a place to get the glass replaced, get it fixed, pop back through to the right time, and spend the rest of my life in therapy convincing myself that it didn't happen was suddenly in danger. The man I hated most in life, besides Josh of course, was now manhandling the vital object. My future is in danger, I need that mirror! My need emboldened me, I glared at Fauvre with sharp eyes.

"I see you have my mirror, Inspector. What are your questions?" He sneered at me.

"This is not your mirror, Mam'selle. You stole this mirror from the Opera Populaire!"

"I didn't steal anything!" I hissed back at him.

"Then how did you get it? I know this was the mirror that was shattered in the Grand Hall! Once shattered, it was placed in the storeroom in the cellars until it was to be restored!"

"I—"

"But you do not have access to those cellars, Mam'selle Shepherd! No one does, only the stagehands that put it there, under the direction of the managers themselves, who received their master keys back as soon as the job was completed! So, my question remains, how did you get it?" Taken aback, I had no idea what to say. The doors were all locked…? My mouth opened and closed several times, what came out was the same lame ass story I had told him before, my mind blanking.

"I—I bought it—" He actually laughed at that, closing the distance between us. Circling me, he returned to the mirror, glancing back at me over his shoulder.

"Mademoiselle, we both know that you did not buy it. And we both know that you did not collect it from the cellars…Perhaps someone more…familiar…with them gave you the mirror? Perhaps someone who is rumored to live in the mythical caverns under the opera house?" He jeered, running his hands over the frame. "A lovely mirror…how unfortunate it was broken. I wonder, Mam'selle Shepherd, why would you want a broken, inaccessible mirror? Why is it so desirable to you that you would order your little pet ghost to go fetch it?" All I could do was shake my head in disbelief and slight horror. The man knew more that I could have ever thought possible, he knew things about the mirror that I didn't know.

"I—I don't! It isn't!" I blurted, drowning. My composure was gone, thoroughly shaken. That, unfortunately, seemed to be what he was expecting to hear.

"I see…then you would not mind if I were to…smash this fine piece of artistry." Gripping the sides of the frame, he hefted the mirror above his head. I couldn't help myself, I took a staggering step forward, reaching out in a futile attempt to save it, believing that he would truly destroy it right in front of me. I didn't even know if it would work with the glass replaced, but was dead sure that it wouldn't after it had been in pieces. He held it in place though, chuckling to himself. I can't believe I fell for that! Dammit, dirty, rotten, fucking bastard! I snarled at him as he gently put it down, fuming, my cheeks burning in rage.

"As I thought. The mirror is valuable to you…" Caressing the frame with a stubby finger, he straightened, eyes hardening. "Now. I very much doubt that you will tell me the reason behind your wanting of it, but considering your reaction, I will assume that it is indeed very important. Therefore, Mademoiselle, we each have something that the other wants. You know the location of my quarry, the infamous Opera Ghost, and I have your mirror," He leaned against it, several glass shards tumbled from the frame, clinking on the floor, making me cringe. "So. What I propose is this; you deliver to me your Ghost, and I will return your mirror unscathed." My insides seemed to freeze, even my heart seemed to stop as I stared at him. He wants me to give him Erik…or I'll never get home again. If I don't, I'll never see my family, my friends…I'll be stuck here. I'll be scrubbing the laundry of arrogant asses the rest of my life. I'll live in that little fucking 'cupboard under the stairs' dormitory forever. I will have to put up with the sexism, poverty, back-breaking labor, hiding my true self from my friends…who are more than likely going to get fucking married and leave…I don't think I could put up with Erik's bullshit and temper for the rest of my life. Is he really worth it? For me to give up everything I had! My career, my education? What has he done for me, anyway? Helped me get the mirror so I could leave! He probably wants me gone anyway, so he can pine after Christine!

"I—I—" He cut me off with a slice of his hand.

"Do not answer me now, Mademoiselle Shepherd. You must consider my proposal. You have until the evening of the next performance, two days from now. I will keep the mirror until then. Choose wisely, Mam'selle. Good evening." He wrapped the mirror up in the cloth again, tucking it under his arm, heading towards the back exit of the backstage area. What am I going to do?! That rotten, fucking bastard! URGH! I wish Erik had just killed him that night!...Erik. Oh my God, what am I going to do? If I don't turn in Erik, he'll smash my only way home…I want to go home! I hate this place! FuckI stumbled to a wall, and my body sagged against it, my knees no longer able to support my weight. Tears didn't fall though, I felt nothing, no sorrow, no shame. Only empty. I can't tell Erik.