I carefully checked the pieces of Don Juan triumphant to make sure that every page was still intact. When everything looked fine to me, I pulled the dress Erik had given me off and I quickly changed into one of my own gowns, wool this time, and it was my favorite shade of baby blue. I jumped as there was a knock on my door, and I straightened myself and opened the door.
Madam Giry stood in the door frame, her arms crossed.
"Yes?" I asked.
"Velluae wants me to have you take a few ballet lessons, to work on posture and such,"
"Alright," I said and she looked at something over my shoulder and her face paled. She pushed past me into my room despite my indignant protests. She held up the black leather folder that had Don Juan Triumphant written on it in gold lettering.
"Where did you get this?" She demanded. Her eyes were wild, her face contorted with rage.
"That is none of your business." I snapped.
"Girl don't be foolish," she growled, "now tell me, where did you get this?"
I took Don Juan from her and placed it in my wardrobe. "That is my business Madam Giry," I said with a glare. "And shouldn't we be starting those lessons?" And I pushed her out of my room before she could respond.
()
Erik heard the snap of the lasso and he jumped to his feet quickly. There was no yell of surprise, which meant the person had not been caught in his trap, or knew it was there. His face paled as he saw Madam Giry step into his cave, in a temper.
"I thought when I threw you out of my home I made it clear I wanted you to stay out of my life." She snapped, hands on hips.
"I had no idea that you were here," Erik said earnestly.
"Then what are you doing here? Looking for a new Christine?"
"What-"
"I know about Alanna, Erik,"
"It is not what you think Giry," Erik muttered, "It was an accident."
She glared at him for a moment longer, her arms still folded. "I don't want to hear anything from you; otherwise I will go to the police and let them know you are here."
"It will be like is I don't exist." Erik said quickly.
"Well I need to go back up. Just don't cause any trouble." and she spun on her heel without a backward glance. Erik sighed heavily. So much for being unnoticed and unknown. Now two people knew he was here. Great. Two was too many, hell one was too many. He had been here for less than two weeks, and he was doing a great job of going unnoticed. Erik glanced at the dress hanging from the wall and smiled. He couldn't stop thinking about her since they had formerly met on the previous day. She was different than Christine, smarter and much more dependent than Christine had ever been. Christine had been maybe a year younger than Alanna was now when Erik had first seen her. Erik was unsure of his true age since he did not know his birth year, but he was pretty sure he was around twenty-eight years of age, and he knew his birthday was in the summer, he just didn't know a specific date.
Christine had been young, it was true, and her mental maturity was that of a teenager, girlish and giddy, easy to impress and woo. She had also been easily frightened. Her mental state was just not prepared for Erik. She was better off with Raoul, who could teach her of the world and of true love, and he could give her what Erik couldn't: a normal life. Erik shouldn't have tried and force Christine to love him, but he just wanted someone to love him just like anyone else. For once he had not wanted to be the odd one; he just wanted something everyone else could have. Didn't he deserve love? The truth was no. No he didn't. Over the last 3 years he had had a lot of time to think about his actions and let his way of thinking change from the way the Opera Ghost's mind worked. He felt sane, but that didn't mean he had completely changed. He was still a danger to himself and others when his temper was left uncheck, and around other people who knows what he could do. Erik didn't know how mentally stable he truly was. But he no longer wanted to hurt people, to put them in pain just for his pleasure. That had to be improvement, perhaps.
Erik sighed again. He seemed to do that a lot lately. For a bed he had been using an old armchair that was abandoned in one of the little cubbies carved out of the stone, using his cloak as a blanket. Erik could only guess when it was night, since he had not yet managed to secure a clock, so he slept when he was tired. Erik sat on that old dusty armchair now, but there was no way he could sleep right now. No he was just thinking.
Curious, how Alanna would let a murderer continue to live under her feet just so she could have the music back. He supposed there was more to this woman that he had originally thought. What on earth could she possibly find interesting about those burnt old pages? Perhaps her parents had been music collectors or something like that. Still, it meant she had a passion for music. Erik ran a hand through his hair. He missed composing, he missed the Opera, it bore away at his soul more than Christine had it seemed. There was not much he could do down here. Perhaps it would be worth one more visit to the surface. Erik would certainly slip back into insanity if he did not have his music.
