Chapter 4

Erik dashed into Meg's dressing room for his clothes and rushed to find a closet to
change in. He madly tore open the first one he came upon, only to discover it was already
occupied by two figures passionately kissing. He first thought it to be Richard and
Moncharmin and was about to back off with an 'excuse me!', when, upon closer
examination, he found the couple to be Christine and that silly fop Raoul.

Erik slammed the door, punched the wall with his fist, breaking though it, and
then opened the door again.

"How lovely to see you two," Erik started through clenched teeth. "What the hell
do you think you're doing?" he demanded.

Christine was the first to speak.

"What's wrong with your voice, Erik? Why is it so high? And what's that smell?"

Raoul pinched his nose and whined, "And what are you wearing, my good man?"
Pointing to the mouldy tutu.

Erik could feel the colour rushing to his face and ears under the mask.

"It's none of your concern," he squeaked, trying to suppress his voice and the urge
to wring Raoul's neck.

Christine argued indignantly.

"Yes, it's my concern! If I'm to accept any prenuptial gifts from you, I demand to
know why you are dressed like a member of the corps de ballet!"

Erik and Raoul both stared at her in shock, though both had different reasons. Erik
was shocked at her correct usage of large words and Raoul didn't understand the phrase
at all.

Erik stammered in a high voice, "I, uh, was . . ." Oh no! he thought. I can't
explain the real reason! It's not as if a little white lie won't hurt . . . "I was trying it on for
Raoul. You see dear, he wanted me to steal a costume for him, so he can be a member of
the corps de ballet. Isn't that right, Raoul dear?"

Raoul's started out of his head and he exclaimed, "I had nothing to do with your
being a cross- ouch!"

Erik had quickly and stealthily slipped over to Raoul and ground his pointe shoe
into Raoul's foot. Raoul started to cry while Christine sat there, looking disgustedly at
him.

"Don't be a baby, Raoul! Besides, Erik's not a cross-dresser! . . ." she stopped,
"Or are you!"

Erik started to protest in the negative when Christine yelled, "Yes, what about that
wedding dress in my closet! It's not MINE! It was there when I first came to your house!
Erik, my god, why didn't you tell me?"

Erik could feel the smoke pouring out of his ears. "I'm not a damned
cross-dresser!" he screamed, forgetting his high voice.

Raoul started to laugh, and with that, Erik stomped on his other foot and conjured
Christine away. Back at his house, Erik had changed, iced himself, brushed his teeth, and
was burning the mouldy tutu when Christine came out of her room.

"Are you sure you're not a cross-dresser, Erik?" she asked cautiously.

"No, Christine, I'm not! Someday I'll explain," he answered in his normal,
melodical voice. Ha! he thought. Someday like never!

"Ok," she answered brightly. "I didn't think so. Raoul was just denying
everything. I think you were wearing his tutu anyway."