A bit of a filler chapter to help prepare us all for what's coming next! I've got some chapters written and ready to upload, it's just a matter of getting them written up on the computer and posted. Please enjoy, hopefully the next chapter will be up soon!
Paris, February 1881
The opera house was temporarily closed after that fateful night. With a bassoonist dead, several orchestra members injured, and Christine and Carlotta unaccounted for, it was no wonder Richard and Moncharmin had become like the living dead. There had been no word from them other than a note offering their sincerest apologies over what had occurred.
Lisette had spent the last few weeks cooped up in her apartment. While she spent the afternoons going to her church to keep her organ and piano skills sharp as well as attending the Conservatoire to begin her job as an assistant professor, she dared not go back to the opera house. Armel's death sat like a crushing weight on her chest. He had been one of the first friends she'd made in Paris, and perhaps the only friend who ever truly saw past the scar on her face. She couldn't bear the thought of returning and finding a new bassoonist in his place.
The pages of Don Juan Triumphant lay in a crumpled heap underneath her bed, spotted with blood from her injuries. When she'd read the newspapers the days after, they claimed the chandelier fell to the ropes that held it up, being too old from not being replaced. The reporters not only targeted Richard and Moncharmin, but also Debienne and Poligny for failing to notice the lack of repairs. However, Lisette knew where the blame truly fell. She was tempted to burn the pages of Erik's score and laugh in his face when he discovered what she had done. Her heart had seemingly turned to stone towards him, and she wasn't sure if she could forgive him for what he had done. Not when scars from the crystal shards were beginning to form long, ugly scars along her arms, legs, and face.
Meg and Soreli had visited on a number of occasions, offering their condolences for Armel and bringing Lisette up to date of what was happening in the Opera House during its closure. Christine was missing… again. She hadn't been seen since the night the chandelier fell. Sorelli had mentioned it was probably to avoid the publicity and wrath of Carlotta. Meg, however, was genuinely concerned for her friend. The viscount had been at the Opera House multiple times every day, asking if Christine had returned. Sorelli said that she had never seen anyone so distraught as the viscount in reaction to the young soprano's disappearance. They had adamantly promised to write to him the moment she returned, but it seemed to make no difference on his state of mind.
To Lisette's greatest surprise, the count also came by to see her a few days after the incident. Lisette was quite embarrassed to be seen by him after her outbursts that dreadful night, but the count assured her he would've reacted similarly in her situation. Although Lisette had made presumptions about the count after her many conversations with Sorelli and witnessing his actions against herself, his actions that evening had completely redeemed him. In fact, the count seemed to be more interested in her than ever before. They spent the majority of time together discussing her position at the Palais Garnier, her position at her church, and her new position at the Conservatoire. He had boldly asked about her wages, something she would not have expected from a man as rich as he, but he had praised her upon discovering that she was doing well for herself. The idea of having the wealth of three jobs seemed appealing, but he had no idea how much of that was spent buying music and supporting her family back home. He had stated she would've made a great lady of society, something Lisette highly doubted, his eyes glowing as he kissed her hand. It was after this conversation that he departed, his mind clearly preoccupied with other thoughts. He hadn't been back since.
Nearly two weeks had passed since the night of the fallen chandelier when Lisette had found herself growing increasingly resentful of not only Erik, but her current position at the Palais Garnier, the Conservatoire, and even being cooped up in Paris where strangers constantly looked at her in disgust. On this particular day, it was unusually warm for late February. The snow had melted, letting the grass peek through for the first time since November. Lisette had spent the last three days in her apartment, barely eating and not bothering to change clothes as she wallowed in self-pity over her situation. However, the bright sunlight pouring into her small apartment motivated her to put on a new dress and go out for a walk.
She meandered along the Parisian streets for what seemed like hours before arriving at Bois de Vincennes, the same park she had visited with Erik just months before. As she walked along the pathway that surrounded the shallow pond, she admired the sun pouring onto her face, seemingly lifting the demons that had been haunting her for the last several days. Unlike her last visit, the water was no longer frozen and a parade of ducks splashed happily in its water. When she searched the temple where Erik had first revealed his face to her, she paused. What was she doing? Why was she here? But just as she was about to walk in the opposite direction, a familiar figure caught her attention, leaning against one of the tall columns.
"Le Vicomte de Chagny?"
Startled, the viscount lost his grip on the column, nearly tumbling into the pond below. Regaining his composure, he turned to her. "Mademoiselle Geiger! I didn't expect to see anyone I knew all the way out here."
She smiled softly, coming closer to him. "I needed a walk."
He nodded and turned back to the water, his eyebrows knitting together as he went back to his thoughts. He looked absolutely dreadful. It seemed as if he hadn't bathed in days from the way his shirt stuck to his chest and his blonde hair was clinging to his forehead. His mustache had grown into what looked like a full beard and his blue eyes were all but bloodshot, dark circles decorating them underneath. His hands were twitching by his side, as if ready to attack, and Lisette took a calculated step backwards.
"Are you alright, monsieur?" she asked.
"It's dreadful," he muttered at last. "Dreadful. Just dreadful…"
He wasn't making any sense. "Monsieur?"
He turned to her, grabbing her by the shoulders. Lisette grimaced as she smelled strong alcohol on his breath. "It's Christine. She's gone! Disappeared the night the chandelier fell."
Immediately, Lisette wanted nothing more to do with this conversation. She already knew the direction it was headed.
"I've been to the opera house every day, but I haven't seen her! There are only whispers that she's been taken by her Angel of Music!"
Lisette regretted not leaving when she had the chance. Her worst fear had been confirmed. Erik had completely forgotten Lisette. His only concern now was with Christine! Lisette also wasn't sure what the viscount knew about Erik. While Lisette was ready to reveal the farce Erik had been living all these years, she couldn't do it with the pages of Don Juan Triumphant still laying beneath her bed.
"I must go," she said, removing the viscount's grip from her shoulders.
"No, wait!" he cried, loud enough that other passerbys in the park looked in their direction.
"Hush," she scolded, moving them so they were in a more secluded area of the temple.
"I need your help," he pleaded, lowering his voice.
"My help?" Lisette said, doing her best to hide the suspicion in her voice. Did he know of her acquaintance with Erik? "How can I possibly help?"
"Christine left me a note," he said, leaning helplessly against the column behind him. "Apparently, Richard and Moncharmin are to 'reopen' the opera house with a masked ball the day after tomorrow. She told me she would meet me there in disguise."
"I still don't see how I can be of any help," Lisette said bitterly.
"I need you to accompany me as my date," he said. "My brother thinks I'm half mad and the opera house is beginning to suspect I'm behind Christine's disappearance."
"So you'd like me to come along as your plaything?" she said, stepping away.
The viscount's head turned sharply in her direction. "No, no! You're a respected member of the Opera Company and many people know we have become acquaintances since my time here! You'd alleviate my brother's suspicions if we're together. He speaks very highly of you!"
She couldn't help but blush at his last comment. Her eyes seem to wander from the viscount's pleading eyes to her arms, which were steal healing from the accident.
"On one condition," she said.
"Yes, yes," he said, taking her hands in his. "Anything."
"You are to make it very clear that we are not romantically involved," she said. He nodded furiously in response. "And when you find Christine, please do not involve me in her schemes. I have had enough of strange incidents happening at the opera house."
