Segundo: Masquerade


Summary- A reflection piece from Clarise's point of view. What is it like for your life suddenly to become a Masquerade.

Song- "Masquerade" from Phantom of the Opera

"Masquerade! Paper faces on Parade
Masquerade!
Hide your face so the world will never find you!
Masquerade! Every face a different shade
Masquerade!
Look around there's another mask behind you!"
--"Masquerade from Phantom of the Opera


Today I am a dark-haired, violet-eyed creature. Today my complexion is dark. Today I am Melanie Tither. Who was she? I never knew her. She is simply another face in the night. Another day. Another masquerade. Another bottle of hair dye. Another case of makeup.

Clarise Starling is dead, he warned me of this. Only at night, when we are alone, can we be Clarise and Hannibal anymore. By day, it is an endless charade.

Who am I anymore? Last week I was Tiffany O'Hare, four weeks ago I was Bianca DuPrize. I have been over Europe. My accent is gone. FBI? Ha! Perhaps I toured the building once but where did you get the silly idea I was ever a part of it. It feels strange now. There was a time when I knew my cause and my aim. But now I have no identity but the mask.

"Patience darling. It gets easier," he whispers soothingly in my ear at night, when I am Clarise again.

Today's masked ball required attending another lecture, and then luncheon at a quaint French bistro. I had to be careful to use only broken French, as I was posing as a foreigner, the wife of a Frenchman named Henri Tither.

Every alias my face changes shade, I have been fair, and dark. No longer am I just one face, but many.

He has told me he enjoys the variety, but I know he would rather just have me, as I would rather just have him.

Instead we have many different people who are others yet us at the same time. Until night, when the dance ends, and the masks come off, and we see who is who. Unless we spend most of the night at the Opera, there is about eight delicious hours when we are Clarise and Hannibal.

Then it is morning. Then it is another mask, another ball, another dance. Everyday.

I love him, I must. Otherwise I would never masquerade.

I am Melanie Tither. I am Tiffany O'Haire. I am Bianca DuPrize.

Someday, they will fade away. Someday the masks will come off for good.

Then, I will be able to look positively in the mirror and say, "I am Clarise. He is Hannibal."

For now, we masquerade.