What Doesn't Kill You…
MissCyraf
48
"Don't Forget Me!"
I slipped once again into the green dress that I had worn the night I fell through the mirror. Since I found it in the costume room, I had hidden it under my mattress, with everything else. When pulling out the dress, I had taken out all the notes as well, burning them in my lamp mourningly so they could not be found. The dress felt strange, almost uncomfortable, I had grown used to the cut and weight of the full 1800's clothing. I tucked my feet into the once-painful heels that all the women wore here, they no longer hurt so much, but my feet were covered in evidence of the past pain I endured. I studied them for a moment, angling them in the soft lamp light. I had lost my strappy black heels the night of the "accident". Well, hopefully no one at home will notice… I reached under my mattress to retrieve the only other belongings that would be useful to me, my purse and its contents. Then blowing out my lamp, I threw my shoulders back and strode purposefully out the door, trying to convince myself that I was doing the right thing.
- - -
The opera house was buzzing with commotion, typical for a performance night. Audience members were already flowing heavily through the front doors into the entrance hall, decorating the Grand Staircase with their elegant attire. My eyes roamed over the crowd, and almost irritably, I pushed through it, my nerves gathering and bunching under my skin. The plan was in motion, but I still had necessary goals to accomplish before I could relax. Step one… get the new master keys from the managers…We needed the master keys to be able to get under the stage, where Erik and I had planned for the "exchange" to take place. It was the only place that would be safe from the eyes of potentially hundreds, perhaps thousands of people. Everyone would be above, performing, preparing, but one could not access it in the middle of a performance as the only entrance was directly in the center of the stage itself. The only time one could access it was before, and after the show, and the intermission.
Once having Erik, the Inspector would be unable to do anything, take him away, until the end of the performance, lest he draw unwanted attention to himself by appearing on the stage in the middle of the show with thousands watching. Underneath, was a low-ceilinged prop room, with its own secret passage connecting to Erik's maze of tunnels. This way, I would get the mirror, the Inspector would get his Phantom, and I could disappear into the mirror, Erik would smash it to prevent Fauvre or anyone from following. Then, Erik would overpower and knock out the Inspector, no killing, and disappear down his tunnels. I knew he wouldn't be able to remain in the Opera Populaire, the Inspector would surely keep pursuing him. He knew it as well, but when I had tried to bring up the fact, he had merely said he would figure it out, and refused to talk about it any further.
Erik had a copy of a master key, one that allowed him access to many rooms in the Opera Populaire. But since the new managers had taken over, some of the locks had been changed, the more important prop rooms, the rooms in which the instruments were stored, and their office. Erik told me he had never bothered to make a new copy, the old key worked well enough for his purposes, and he had always thought that if needed, he could just steal the newer one. Now it was suddenly needed, and he found himself unable to steal it, too many people and too much activity around the managers preventing the act in so little time. So, it had fallen upon me to somehow get the key. Damn…How the hell am I going to do this? I guess I'll have to literally take it out of their pockets. Shoving through the bands of nobility and upper crust, I was headed for the stage hall to seek out the managers. Brushing through, and completely concentrated on my mission, I croaked out in surprise when someone clamped down on my shoulder. Whipping around to confront them, my aggression dissipated when I recognized the offender.
"Raoul!" The young Vicomte chortled out a pleased greeting, taking my hand and kissing it delicately.
"Gwendolyn! I am delighted to see you!" I gave him a warm smile as he placed another kiss to my hand. A low gurgle sounded beside him, my gaze leapt over to the beautiful brunette at his side. He seemed almost surprised to see her, eyes widening slightly, spurting out his words in what must have been embarrassment.
"Gwendolyn, you have met Christine, my wife. Christine, this is the young lady I helped the evening of the—that evening. Gwendolyn Shepherd." Christine murmured a pleasantry, her round brown eyes never leaving me, inconspicuously narrowed. She hates me, that's obvious. Well, and I stared right back at her, hackles raising, I'll just hate her right back. What she did to Erik…stupid skinny girl, I could just snap her in half! Our eyes locked in an unspoken contest of wills, Raoul broke the tension by speaking again.
"Gwendolyn, you look stunning! But I must confess that I have seen that gown before…" He grinned charmingly, and I ripped my eyes away from Christine to quirk a smile at him, shrugging. The gown still had its little rips and tears, I hoped they weren't too obvious.
"Well, it was laundry day." He didn't seem to entirely understand, especially that it was a joke, but let it go. Glancing around, he fixed me with a puzzled look, tinged with anxiety.
"Where is your husband? Surely he must be escorting you…" Remembering what had passed between them, I didn't blame him for wanting to know Erik's exact whereabouts. If left to his own devices, I wouldn't put it past Erik to try to squash the charismatic young noble, and I was sure that Raoul had gotten that distinct impression. I gave him a flippant wave, wondering that myself.
"Oh, he's around…somewhere. I'm sorry Raoul, but I simply must be going. I have some business to attend to before the show," My gaze slithered to Christine, who was intensely analyzing me. Showing her a bland, almost insulting smile, I pulled away from them. "Nice to see you again, Ms. De Chagney." It was of course a lie, it would have been nicer to me if she had spontaneously combusted where she stood.
She wore a light powder blue gown, her chestnut curls swept up magnificently, showcasing her graceful long neck and delicate shoulders. She was breath-taking, and as I stomped through the aristocracy, I felt distinctly inferior. No wonder Erik was in love with her…Maybe it's a good thing I'm leaving. I could never compare to that. Ugh…Though the words resounded in my head, they offended. Even if I could never be as gorgeous as Christine, I didn't want to leave Erik. He did deserve the best, but I wanted it to be me that gave it to him. Not her. Suddenly I froze, dead in my tracks. Christine is here. She's here! What if Erik sees her! Oh my God! My attention sucked inward, the world around me faded out as I panicked. Relax—relax! He said he didn't love her! That's what he said! But what if he does?! What if he still loves her! He would forget all about me, he would run off with her, I wouldn't get the mirror AND I would lose him! I felt like I was hyperventilating, snapping myself back into full awareness. Relax! Calm down! He knows she's married, he said he didn't love her…I have to trust him. I have to. I have to believe that he will choose me over her. Despite my mental reassurances, my doubt and fear lingered, dread squatting in the pit of my stomach. I have to trust him. Please Erik, don't forget me! Don't lose interest…
I forcibly shoved my doubts away, to hide in the back of my head. I didn't have the time to panic, the show would start soon. I wouldn't be able to hold them there forever, but more urgent matters would keep them away for a while at least. The managers were chatting away down the aisle with some of the audience members, laughing pompously. Scanning them, my eyes caught on the lustrous surface of a key, the flat end of one was sticking out of Firmin's jacket pocket. I need to get close enough just to grab the keys…Loping down the middle aisle, I stopped short when I saw Fauvre lingering, his eyes sharp on the crowd, sucking in every detail, not too far from where the managers stood.
My breath hitched, the last thing I needed was to be caught stealing by him, and hopefully before he saw me, I ducked down, crawling along a row of seats to the side of the stage. I must have been seen by at least some of the aristocracy present, but didn't much care what they thought of me. Sprinting up a side staircase to the backstage area, I glanced around. I needed the keys desperately, and spotting Kathryn and Nathaniel in the wings, a new plan began to form. I need their help! Kathryn was helping him lace up his costume, trying to ease his nerves before the show began. The urgency of the situation pressed me onward, I doubted I would have ever said anything to them about my past if it wasn't absolutely necessary. Time to be honest. I hope they believe me!
Seizing them both by their elbows, I dragged them backwards into the shadows, wanting to avoid the other workers and performers, especially the Inspector. Kathryn gave a squeak of surprise and protest, I clapped my hand over her mouth. I didn't have much time.
"Gwen! What are you doing?" Nathaniel yanked his arm from my grip, I released Kathryn slowly. With an urgent need in my voice that I hoped they could hear, I rasped back to them, on the edge of panic.
"I need your help, it's really, really important!" I could hardly see them, making out only their silhouettes in the straining light. They must have heard it, Kathryn's voice was thick with concern.
"Wha' do ya need?" I sucked in my breath, preparing to tell them the entire truth.
"I need you to get the master key out of Firmin's jacket pocket. The left one. Right now." They were silent for a second, perhaps stunned or attempting to give each other quizzical looks.
"Why?" I knew they would ask, but my time was running out.
"We don't have much time, so I'm going to tell you as quickly as possible. This is going to sound ridiculous and impossible and absolutely crazy, so please don't hate me. You don't have to believe me, but please, please just do it for me anyway." I saw their outlines nod, so I continued. "I'm not from the United States, at least not from the United States now. I'm from the US in the future, over a hundred and thirty years in the future, actually. I know that sounds crazy, and now you probably think I'm insane just for saying it, but I need the keys to get back a mirror that brought me to this time so I can get home. If I'm not able to go through the mirror, Fauvre is going to throw me in prison!" I spat out my words so quickly that they practically ran together, choppy and confused. I then awaited their responses, anxious, adrenaline pumping. They turned to look at each other, then to me, then back to each other. I bit my tongue in effort to keep from snapping at them.
"What happens in the future? Do I become famous?" Nathaniel's voice shattered their silence, I almost fell down with relief, choking out a deeply relieved laugh. Kathryn's figure elbowed him, turning to me, her voice dark and doubtful. Not that I could blame her, I wouldn't have believed it either.
"Nathaniel! Gwenny, are ya bein' serious? No joke?"
"No, no joke. The mirror is my only way home. I only came to this time, France, the Opera Populaire even, the night of the accident. Ever since, I've been trying to get back home. Fauvre is going to trade the mirror back to me tonight. During the show, under the stage. That's why I need the key!"
"Trade you for what?" I knew the question was coming. Now they'll really think I'm crazy. It doesn't matter now, I don't have the time to convince them otherwise.
"The Phantom of the Opera." They now both laughed, but I remained firm, lips pressed into a tight line. Their laughter died away abruptly when they noticed I didn't join in on the joke.
"Gwen—you—you are serious?" Nathaniel blurted, his voice catching, alarmed. I nodded. He fell silent, Kathryn picked up where he left off.
"'e…exists? The Phantom?" I nodded again, hoping they would recover from their shock more quickly.
"Yes. He's been helping me. Once again, I know it's crazy. But he wants to go through with it, to help me." Nathaniel was still silent, but Kathryn was audibly appalled, shouting.
"Bu' Gwen! Gwen, 'e's a monster! You canno' trust 'im!" I cut through her objection.
"Kathryn, quiet! He's not the monster, Fauvre is! Fauvre tried to attack me, Erik saved my life!"
"'Erik! Erik!?'"
"Will you just help me, please! This is my only chance!" Kathryn started to respond, giving another squeak, but Nathaniel interrupted, reaching out to grip my hands.
"We will help you. Please do not be lying…or crazy." I squeezed his hands in response, feeling a rush of adoration for both of them. Flinging my arms out, I caught both in a tight hug, which was, only hesitant at first, returned. We never noticed a figure in the shadows with us, listening to every word we said.
