A/N: Thankyou for your encouraging reviews, please continue to let me know what you think!

So… they found him… :)

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Chapter 7:

THE PROLETARIANS AND THE GENTLEMEN

'His eyes had snapped open. And he was staring directly at her.'

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Moniques jaw dropped in a silent gasp, her lower lip quivered and she stared back into the pale eyes that burned on hers. Kari stared at him also, her heart was suddenly a race horse she feared might collapse from exhaustion. She had only ever felt fear this intense once before in her life – when she had been involved in a car accident. Suddenly Kari wished they had planned this whole 'phantom finding excursion' much better. Had they really expected to find him? And if so, what were they then going to do? Just bowl on up 'Oh, Hi Phantom. How are you? Umm… so it's like a 100 years since that whole Christine-obsessiveness inspired killing spree-thing you went on – so we're sorta hoping you're over that. But anyway, we thought we'd pop over, see how you were doing, rummage through your stuff, get a cup of tea or something'. Kari racked her brains, what would they do if some… trouble arose? No one knew they were here, he could probably overpower them both if he wanted to – and they had nothing to even defend themselves with. No weapons, nothing.

Movement pulled Kari out of her ranting thoughts. Monique gasped, audibly this time. He had grabbed her hand, and she couldn't move away from him.
"Who are you? WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?" he growled fiercely, he had pushed himself to sit up now.
Monique didn't answer, just stared at him blankly from wide fear/awe filled eyes.
Kari saw him squeeze her hand harder, staring at her demandingly. "ANSWER ME!" He roared, giving a quick yank on her arm, she flopped around like a rag doll.

Monique said nothing, just stared back at him – she had begun to look like a wax model, frozen in time. His eyes flared, "Are you mute!" he demanded, squeezing her hand even more. Finally she gave a cry of surprise and pain combined, he had her already twice injured hand in his firm grasp. He threw her hand from him and suddenly got to his feet, then disappeared from Moniques frozen eyes. She snapped out of the trance, and her eyes moved downward, he was sprawled on the ground. Inappropriately she gave a snort of laughter, and a small giggle played on her smiling lips. Kari turned to Monique with a look of disbelief on her face, "What the hell is WRONG with you?" she exclaimed.

Moniques smile disappeared slowly, she was too shocked to think coherently.

Slowly he moved to his feet once more, leaning back against the side of the sleigh-bed, he had awoken in a daze, confused. How could he still be alive? He was certain he was meant to be dead… but nonetheless, here he was standing before two very real, but strange looking humans… not spirits or demons of the afterlife. Perhaps he had slept for a long time… maybe a very long time, for his legs had been numb and given out on him. But now he felt his body awakening.

"What are you doing here?" he spoke in a low, even, menacing tone, looking between them. "And why are you wearing my cloak?" he cocked his head to one side looking at Monique, "And you… " he turned to Kari, "Put my statue DOWN." He growled, eyeing the Sphinx she had forgotten was still in her hands.

Kari immediately dropped the sphinx onto the bed and took a step backwards.
Monique didn't move, so his eyes turned to regard her once more. His visible eyebrow lifted in a condescending manner, demanding an answer to his question.

"Uhh… 'cos it's a bit cold down here." She answered, making no more to take it off. Kari almost laughed from disbelief. Why couldn't she react like a normal human being and take it off, apologising profusely?

His eyes narrowed at her.
"And… I well, I thought it was cool…" she picked up one side of the cloak and flapped it around.
Kari brought one hand to her head and rubbed at her temples, her stress levels hitting maximum.

"You have already explained your temperature worries… but you have not answered my question." He replied, his voice was quiet but held a definite note of threat to it.
Monique grinned, "No.. I mean, yeah it's cold, but I mean I thought the cape was cool… like, I really like it. It's slang." She explained.
Kari gripped at her temples. Any second the Phantom would pounce at Monique and all sorts of terror could ensue. And there she was calmly giving him a 21st century linguistics lesson. It was almost more then she could stand.

Finally Monique sighed, "Fine, if it's that much of a problem I'll take it off." She grumbled and undid the clip across her throat, then pulled the cloak off and held the cape out to him.

It all happened in a moment. His hands grabbed at the cloak, pulled her in, and now he held her captive. The cloak was pulled across her throat, holding her hard up against him, and unable to escape. Moniques face paled, and Kari pondered that was perhaps the moment she realised they were in serious trouble.

"WHY ARE YOU HERE? WHY CAN'T YOU PEOPLE JUST LEAVE ME!" he roared, and Monique flinched, trying to lean her ear away from his yelling.

His eyes darted around, perchance had he left a Punjab lasso within arms reach? No… unfortunately, it appeared he had not. Seeing neither of them had spoken, he yanked the cloak tighter across Moniques throat, and she gave a strangled cry, now becoming seriously worried.

"We.. uhh, we came here to look for you. We wanted to…" she trailed off, what DID they want to do? Tea and biscuits? No… not a good idea. "We… wanted to talk with you! It's been an almost life long dream to meet you. NO JOKES!" she assured him. He frowned, she was speaking English, but surely it was a primitive dialect. The voice of uneducated proletarians.

Monique took the moments distraction to her advantage and picked up one foot then slammed the heel down onto the toes of his right foot. He gave a cry of surprise and his hands slackened enough for her to drop to the ground and crawl away from him quick time. She then turned to face him once more, standing up and raised her hands up into a fighting position. She regarded him with a very serious expression, "First of all," she paused, taking a breath, "FUCK YOU! No one strangles me and gets away with it. Secondly, I've done Karate, and I'm not afraid to use it. Thirdly… we came down here to find you, because I've read your story and always been intrigued with you – so don't be acting all pissy at me, because maybe I could be the only friend you have. Fourthly, it's like a hundred years since the fire up there, " she gestured upwards, "So I think it's time you built a bridge and got over it! And don't even TRY and take your anger out on me cos I had nothing to do with that shit!" she shouted at him, gesticulating wildly. Kari watched on mortified, she had a wager going on in her head on how long it would take before he would shut her up. "and FIFTHLY, " she added, "Oh my goodness! You're the Phantom of the Opera!" she pointed and bounced up and down, suddenly happy.

Kari groaned, and sank down to the floor. This was not going well.

"ENOUGH!" he suddenly roared and Monique raised her fists back up to fighting stance. He passed his eye over her, this girl who thought she was a boy – speaking in such an uncultured manner, speaking words he had not heard, wearing boys clothing – but the pants were so short they revealed most of the length of her legs, which were browned, most likely from hours of labouring in the sun for wealthy families. The white shirt she wore was soaking, and plastered to her small frame, and now, almost see through, revealing the barest of undergarments. No corsetry or finery to be seen on this poor specimen. The other girl was not much better, her clothes also clung to her body, but her figure was not as boyish, and her shirt not see through, but rather a boyish style. Perhaps the poor rats had come seeking solace from the cruelties of poverty. He turned his attention to Kari, and regarded her seriously, perhaps he could make sense from her. A hundred years? Build a bridge? Was that poor girl-boy child suffering from a mental possession?

"Explain yourself." His voice was gruff, but no longer laced with the hidden threat of 'talk or die', which Kari thought was a nice… relief.

"Look… uhh, Phantom.. you're –"
He interrupted, "Call me Erik."

"Okay, Erik, you're going to think I'm.. uhh, WE'RE crazy, but in case you haven't realised, it's 2004." She explained, looking to Monique helplessly.

He studied her a moment, unbelieving. Then he laughed, not an appreciative happy laugh, but a condescending 'you're pathetic' kind of laugh.

Monique could stand it no more, "Dude, why aren't you old?" she looked at him confused.
He looked back to her equally confused. "Why do I not appear aged?"
Monique nodded.
He sighed, it was a question he had asked himself from sometime… since he first set eyes on… her… Miss Daae, so he gave her his most oft' dragged up thought. "Maybe I am cursed to roam this Earth forever, to endure the torturous pain of unrequited love and relive the agony of betrayal for all eternity, so I have not aged for the passing of a few years, to ensure my eternity of suffering is not cut short." He spoke, almost to himself.

Kari looked away, 'what a happy fellow' she thought to herself.

"A few?" Monique laughed, "We're not kidding, you know? It's 2004. It's been over a hundred years since you.. uh since the chandelier was dropped. Raoul or Christine wrote about the events at this Opera House, and it was published."

"DO NOT SAY THAT NAME DOWN HERE." He suddenly roared, and Monique jumped back. She shook her head and busied herself with rummaging in her backpack and opened the front compartment, the top pocket hadn't been exposed to the water as much, and was reasonably waterproof –so the inside was only damp. She pulled a somewhat damp copy of 'Le Fantôme de L'Opéra' from the bag and held it out to him.

He eyed her suspiciously, not making a move towards her. Monique sighed in frustration and chucked the book at him. He caught it just before it him, then looked at it with a curiosity he couldn't mask. "Gaston Leroux?" he questioned, reading the front cover then flicking through pages randomly, reading small pieces. His eyes began to change, misting over.

"That's just a pseudonym." Kari spoke up, watching Erik flick through the book.

'How could they know these things?' he wondered to himself, passages described in rich detail conversations and happenings between himself and… her. And described the day that Raoul came to take her away, the day Christine made her choice, and ripped his heart from his chest. He sneered, reading some of the exaggerated words about Raoul, "I'd hardly believe the stupid fop had enough brain to write this, but his delusions of grandeur are too evident for it to be anyone but him." He reasoned allowed.

Monique giggled, so Raoul had written it, and made himself more important in the process.

"So…" he suddenly eyed them both, a coldness moving into his eyes, "What do you think of this doomed tale?" he was sarcastically icy.

Monique tilted her head to the side, then shrugged, "I liked the main character." She smiled up at him.
Karis jaw dropped, 'Oh my god, was that a flirtatious smile?' she could barely believe it.

"He was strong. Despite what happened to him, despite the rejection and the crippling setback of not having the love of his parents he learned to love. Though no one else had shown him love, he dared to love – to reach inside and find that beautiful part of himself that could humble itself be vulnerable in the search to be loved in return." Moniques smile had disappeared, replaced by a melancholy, sincere expression. Kari knew where the melancholy came from – she was thinking about her own childhood rejection.

Erik stared at her, he hadn't dared to move, he even appeared to be holding his breath.
Monique sighed, shrugging off her nagging sadness, "But, I thought the ending sucked. I would'a stayed with him." She stared straight up into his eyes.
Eriks chest rose and fell quickly, and he stared between them. "LEAVE ME!" he suddenly bellowed, then gathered up the cloak Monique had been wearing and swung it around his shoulders, fastening it as he stalked away from them, still carrying the book.

Monique stared after him, shocked once more, but she also looked genuinely offended by his reaction. "What do we do now?" she whispered to Kari.
Kari sighed, "Group hug?" she deadpanned.
Monique rolled her eyes. "Come on." She started hurrying after him.

"Erik? ERIK!" she called, running after him. She caught a glimpse of his black cloak as he passed through the mirror frame out into the open once more. She yanked the curtain aside and joined him, he was stalking over to his piano. Monique pressed on, he was not going to get away from her.
Erik could feel her chasing at his heels, well if she wanted to get close to him… so be it, he thought to himself darkly.

He had slowed and Monique was right behind him, "Erik?" she called softly to him, staring at the back of his head.

Slowly he turned, but quick as lightning he had her. He had grabbed her and pulled her back hard up against him. One arm locked across her waist, the other at her throat. None of this sensual, but rather, serious and threatening. "What is it you want with me?" he hissed into her left ear.
Monique didn't try to resist him, but let her full weight fall back against him, effectively surrendering to him, giving him no reason to use his strength on her. He felt her body relax against his, and was confused, why wasn't she pleading for her life?
He tightened his hand around her throat, not putting her in much danger of suffocating, but letting her know he could. She didn't react this time, no flinch, no cries of fear. She wasn't afraid of his power, not afraid of his touch, nor revolted by it. He couldn't understand it – how had she missed seeing the mask that so obviously covered the loathsome carcass that was his face. How could she not be afraid of such a monster before her sight? Then she did something most curious. Instead of struggling, she raised her left arm and reached it up to touch the unmasked side of his face, trailing her finger tips softly down his brow line to his chin. It was his turn to freeze, paralysed by her strange actions.
With a sudden burst of fear, manifesting itself as anger he released her forcefully, and she fell to the ground before him. She lay on one side, braced by her arms, looking up at him, out of breath, her eyes accusing, not fearful. She glared up at him, "I have read that book 21 times! I have seen the movie based on the book innumerable times. And every time, EVERY time I have wished I could meet you. I know reading a book about a part of your life doesn't mean I know you. I know it gives me no right to come here and interfere with you sleeping away the rest of your wretched life, but I couldn't just ignore the desire to come down here. To finally know… whether you really existed. Whether those awful things really happened to you… and whether you managed to fight off a blackened heart to learn to love." She explained, deeply hurt by his actions towards her.

He stared down at her. This pitiful creature on the ground before him was moving him inside. How dare she do that? How dare she invade his lair and berate him with her hysteric ramblings? He said nothing, so she took it as a free invitation to continue.
"I can't claim to know exactly what you went through, but I know rejection. My parents never wanted me – and I've never gotten over that. It's left me permanently relationally handicapped. But unlike you who found genius, found beauty in creating music, found love, I have achieved nothing! I play out characters on a stage – involving myself more in their made up lives and pleasing paying audiences then living my own life. Because I don't have the gall to deal with the emotional baggage of reality, I live inside characters, leaving everything on the 'too hard' shelf!" she snapped, finally getting to her feet. "And I don't know if my modern language is confusing you, so let me make it simple. I'm in pain too. Hell, most people are in pain these days. I just wanted to talk to you. To… get to know you. But you're rejecting me. You of ALL people know how that feels, so why are you doing it to me!" she spat, giving him the coldest glare she could muster.
He stared back at her silently. Thoughtfully. But she couldn't know that – all she saw was impassive silence.
With a growl of frustration she turned on her heel and hurried away from him.

She jumped down the stone steps and almost collided with Kari. "Come on. Lets go. This was a waste of time." She snapped.
"Wait." Kari frowned, although she had heard Moniques ranting, she pretended she hadn't, she had never heard her vocalise her pain in such a way before, didn't realise she felt so emotionally inept. Despite a pang of sympathy, she didn't want to be ordered about by her, in fact, she resented her bossiness at times. "Let me talk to him…. I deserve at least that."
Monique looked away, feeling guilt drive a hard stake into her stomach.
"Give me some time." Kari asked, then started up the steps.
Monique acquiesced, and disappeared along the path, up more steps and found herself in the bedroom of the swan bed. She shrugged "Good a place as any." She spoke aloud to herself, then lowered herself onto the plush coverings of the bed, stretching out. She pulled the overhead rope and the curtain of black lace fall down around the bed. Slow as the descent of the lace curtain, a black curtain passed over her heart and it ached immensely. In the solitude, she finally allowed herself to shed the tears she so badly wanted to.

Kari had had much more luck then Monique in dealing with Erik. Perhaps Monique had softened him up, perhaps Kari had better people skills, but whatever the case they had been speaking for some time.

Finally Erik asked the question that had been bugging him for some time, "Why didn't her parents want her?" his unmasked eyebrow moved into a frown. "Aside from her boyish dress she is not disfigured in any way."

Kari almost laughed, "People aren't suspicious about disfigurement anymore. They don't believe it to be some curse from God or the Devil or whatever other forces they believe in. Sure, we're still a relatively superficial society, but it's not such a big deal." She explained, then sighed. "Anyway, it's a bit of a long story, but, her parents met when they were fairly young… at high school and her mother got pregnant with her when they were young, just entered University. And they weren't married or anything."

Erik started attentively, he was seated on his piano stool, but facing away from the keys, towards her; while she perched on a stone ledge, amidst towering candelabras.

"Anyway they stayed together for some time, but her mother, Janine, had to drop out of University when she had Monique, and her father, Robert dropped out to get a job to support her. Their relationship started to fall apart, Monique was basically the only thing holding them together, and holding them back from things they wanted to pursue – so I guess they started to resent her. As soon as possible they started putting her into crèche and day care facilities, and as she got older their relationship got more distant from each other and from her. Finally when Monique was about 8 or they broke off their relationship and they fought over who should have custody of her – but instead of each one fighting for the right to have her, they kept having arguments saying that the other should take her. All the while Monique heard every one of their arguments, every one of their bad words and their resentment towards her. They came to no agreement about who should take her, so she was sent off to boarding school, and returned to either her mother or fathers place on the Christmas Holidays. She saw them for only a couple of weeks each year, she always told me they only took her in because it was compulsory for the students to leave the dorms over Christmas. Over the other holidays, they remained open for the students, so throughout Easter and other holidays, she remained at the boarding school, while her classmates went to Switzerland, Spain, Germany, wherever." Kari sneaked a look up at Erik, he was totally absorbed in the story, his eyes seemed somewhat misted over but transfixed as if he was watching the whole sad affair on a TV screen. "Anyway, over time her parents were both married and were having children with their new partners. Each year got worse. Their 'loved' children, as she called them were mean to her, her parents were cold and indifferent towards her. Robs wife resented her for being illegitimate, and her Janines Husband begrudged her for being a bond between his wife and another man. So she was a total outcast, only there because she had to be. She was miserable the entire time, they got to the point where they didn't even bother to pretend they cared about her. Finally when she was 18, she left the boarding school, graduating with top marks, and commendations for her participations in extra-curricular activities, sports, dance and drama – the school was all she had, so she did a lot while she was there. After a months downtime, in which she visited Paris, no doubt something to do with you-" she snuck a look at Erik, but he wouldn't meet her eyes, "She auditioned for Straata Performing Arts Academy in England –and that's where I met her. Anyway, she called Janine to tell her she had been accepted into the Academy, it's quite a prestigious vocational theatre, and in Moniques words, her and her husband, and Rob and his wife gave her a 'severance package'." Kari shifted her position on the stone ledge.
"And what do you mean by that?" he inquired.
"Gave her a lump some of money, and told in her a round about sort of way, not to come back." Kari explained, then rose to her feet.

Erik simply nodded. The story was almost as pathetic as his own. What ever had she meant that this rather strange girl had ventured to Paris 'no doubt something to do with him'?

Kari opened up her own backpack, wondering if there was anything to eat left in there, all she found was chewing gum. She didn't bother offering Erik any, she didn't think he would know what it was. She pulled out the sodden aria score from her bag and lay it on the ground, looking at it forlornly.
"Could you light a candle? My music is wet." She gestured to it.

Erik disappeared with a flourish of his cape, leaving her alone, but only for a moment. He returned a moment later, carrying one lit candle. He proceeded to light the candles in the many candelabras around the 'room'.

"And then… there was light." Kari whispered in awe as the cavern came to life, details were suddenly visible, the richness and mystery of her surroundings, and dancing shadows on the walls.
Erik carried a gold candelabra over to her, and placed it beside the score,

"Un bel di vedremo" (Cio-Cio-Sans Aria from Madame Butterfly) he read the title, his eyes ran quickly over the notes. Kari imagined him already singing it in his head.
"Sing it for me." He suddenly said, it was half command, half question.
Kari quivered with fear, and something else… wasn't this the very thing she'd dreamed about?
"I don't know if I sing it that well.." she started making excuses.
"I will decide that." He announced, though it seemed condescending, his tone was not.

Monique awoke suddenly, the sound of angels filled her ears. She knew it. She'd never made it to the Phantoms lair. She had died on the way. But upon opening her eyes, she realised it wasn't so. The black lace curtain still enshrouded her. She pulled the rope, and the curtain lifted. She pushed herself off the swan bed, heading for the source of angelic music. As she descended the stairs, she was greeted with the sensual ambiance of flickering candlelight, the echoes of singing voices stirred all around her, till she could not be sure where they were coming from – they seemed almost part of the air. She continued toward Eriks piano, but stopped, and stood in the last remaining shadows. Up by the piano Erik and Kari stood together, his hands were on her shoulders, and together they sung. Moniques heart sank, no, dive-bombed into the cold pit of despair in her stomach. She regarded them jealously, as he sung with her, coaxing her to drown him out, and sing the aria with more passion then Monique had heard it that morning. Denied once more, she sank further into the shadows, and sat, hugging her knees to her chest, listening to the sweet torture of their united voices… breaking her heart.

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Hope you're still with me. Please (PLEASE) review, let me know how your going and how you think the story is going. I assure you it will continue to develop.
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