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Chapter 12:
FOR FEAR OF NOT HAVING THE RIGHT WORDS
Eriks eyes held Moniques intensely for an indeterminable length of time. She barely dared to breath, and most certainly did not dare to speak or move. Finally the pressure behind Eriks hands lessened, then they disappeared from her shoulders all together, dropping down to his sides, he seemed to hesitate a moment, then silently turned and left the room. Monique let out the breathe she had been holding and drew in a few ragged gasps. Her mood had darkened, in fact, it had become downright foul now. And she was in the mood to destroy, but she had a slight feeling, that destroying something immediately following his little speech wouldn't go down to well. So she paced back and forth across the room, silently brewing about how unfair and how much of a bastard Erik was.
Erik
whipped the curtain aside violently and stepped out into the main
area of his caved home. Kari was standing in front of the curtain,
"What happened?" she demanded, worry in her voice.
When Erik
didn't answer immediately she elaborated, "I heard yelling, and
then I heard some huge crash…?" her eyes implored him for a
reply.
It was
slow coming.
"That audacious, foolish, impertinent child! She is
more impossible then I had imagined! This is MY home and MY
belongings. I may have allowed you into my sanctuary, but I do NOT
remember inviting you to explore at whim, invade my privacy and
peruse my belongings at your own will!" He threw his hands up in
frustration, curling and uncurling a fist, beginning to pace in front
of Kari.
"You didn't hurt her did you?" Kari was now really worried.
Erik paused mid-stride, his face changing, but he shook his head. "No. I would never hurt a woman… much as she does not act like one at times." He paused, "I may be a monster, but even I would not stoop so low."
Kari wanted to slap him, "You're NOT a monster Erik. You're not."
Monique chose that moment to appear through the curtains, catching the last few seconds of the conversation.
Eriks eyes darted from Karis to Moniques. Surprisingly a guilty look moved over his features.
"I agree. You're not a monster. You know, if we allow the physical nature of a thing or person to define who or what they really are – then we are really sad. We'd never really know anyone properly, we'd just cause ourselves more problems in the end. Surely you know the saying 'Don't judge a book by it's cover'?" she stared straight up at him. Her thoughts of anger gone, replaced by a deeper seeded sympathy, and desire to help him. She knew that Erik really couldn't help his outbursts of anger, and his social unease. It was engrained into him from the horrible childhood that he had lead. It was wired into him, just as her peculiarities were wired into her.
"You can not judge, nor know a man, by his face." Kari elaborated.
"That is not the thoughts of the society to which I cursed by entering." He replied.
Their words both intrigued and frightened him. And he hated fear, he hated fear in himself – it made him angry, in others, during his days of haunting, it had empowered him. He could not understand their point of view. How could two such perfectly formed, totally unmarred people speak of acceptance of those who were disfigured? How could they not be threatened? Or disgusted? And the butterfly… she had not reproached him for his maltreatment of her, just moments before. He felt guilty about that. And he wanted to feel that guilt, relish the humanity of that painful emotion, it was something he was quite unaccustomed to. He wished he had controlled his anger better. She had never shown him an ounce of disdain – quite the opposite really, and he had rebuked her furiously. Yet she returned to him, and surprisingly, put up for him. He wondered. if perhaps, he had just been born in the wrong time and suffered as he had needlessly. But he didn't dare let himself entertain those thoughts for more then a brief second.
Monique glowered, "Enough with the curses, the monsters and the demonic metaphors! Those idiots who drummed those thoughts into your head, didn't know sh-… didn't know what the hell they were talking about! I mean, at one stage, people believed the Earth was flat, that mental disorders were a result of demon possession, that woman who suffered from problems were plagued by a wandering womb, that woman were incapable of anything other than cooking, cleaning and baring children, that the four minute mile was impossible. Now look at the world – I mean, you'd barely recognise it now. Prescription medications, therapy, womens liberation – so much has changed, even over a period of a hundred years. We've learnt so much and evolved immensely from the dim dark ages. Bottom line, you need to get over the whole monster thing okay? That way of thinking is so obsolete."
Erik looked between the two strange creatures, then looked around his lair. 'look at the world – you'd barely recognise it now'. Well, if these two girls were anything to go by, she was definitely right. He wouldn't recognise a thing. Womens liberation? How curious. Maybe these two strange creatures of an equally strange society were wise… but then, they had not seen the mark of wickedness on his cursed flesh. Monique sighed, she really wished she could get inside his brain and clear out all the useless thoughts and negative images he had of himself. She shuddered to think of the hell it must be to live imprisoned in such self-loathing. She had thought she'd had it bad, a slave to her own style of self-exile, and victim of her wholly untrusting personality; but she had nothing on Erik. He was damaged deeply, and didn't know it – at least Monique recognised her emotional ineptness – but Erik thought that every bad comment said about him was right. It pained her to think of his suffering. But if he wasn't completely blackened to the core, then he was salvageable… surely. Monique decided then, that it would be her task to help him. One way or another, she'd see it through.
Their
words seemed to hang in the air, like moisture on the most humid of
days. Each took with them words that refused to leave their minds,
and demanded to be ruminated over. But at last, Erik broke the spell
of contemplative silence.
"Come… we must warm your voice."
He directed to Kari.
Kari nodded, then looked at Monique, "Come
with." She nodded her head at the piano.
Monique followed behind
them silently, almost sulkily, a dejected air around her.
Kari stood
beside the piano, and Erik went to sit while Monique stood awkwardly,
watching them both, feeling like a third wheel. Erik turned to face
her, almost contemplating her face for a moment, then he removed the
long black cloak that almost seemed a permanent fixture, from around
his neck. He took one brave step forward then circled the cape
around her deftly, his gaze not meeting hers as he fastened the clip
across her neck.
Neither said any words, but this time the
silence was laced with good 'vibes'.
Erik
turned from her, toward the piano once more, and seated
himself.
Monique grinned widely, looking like a naughty child
who'd been given a lollipop to quiet it's temper; she grasped the
edges of the cape and flapped them softly about her, like dark raven
wings.
Kari smiled and shook her head at Monique, giving her a friendly eye-roll. She then looked at Erik, detecting the slightest curve at the corner of his mouth. Or had she imagined it? Real or imagined, she was deeply impressed with that one small gesture. However strange it was, he had read through the lines, seen through the situation and done something to ease Moniques discomfort. Perhaps the Phantom could evolve with their evolved times.
"Good
luck." Monique hugged Kari tightly, they were stood in the hallway
near box 5, Erik lingering in the shadows.
"Thanks." Kari
replied, toying with the material of Eriks cloak that Monique had
stubbornly refused to take off; forcing Erik to don another.
Kari
pulled back from the hug, "You'll wait for me here
afterwards?"
Monique nodded.
Kari
shifted her gaze to Eriks barely discernible form in the
darkness.
"Sing with everything you are, my Diva. Sing for me."
His hauntingly silken voice met their ears from the shadows.
"I
will." Kari nodded. They looked at each other in silence.
"Cross
your fingers for me okay?" she directed to Monique, who responded
by holding up both hands, fingers crossed. Kari smiled, then
disappeared silently down the hallway, pausing to take a look back.
She stifled a laugh as she saw them both stealthily creeping along
the hallway – two caped figures, Eriks manly form, looking
deliciously suave in his cape and gentlemanly outfit, and his little
mini-me, Monique. Together, they looked ridiculous, and she had to
turn away before she laughed out loud at them.
Monique slipped easily out of 'stealth-mode' and began walking normally, looking around her surroundings nonchalantly, not really paying attention. Suddenly her left hand was grabbed tightly and she was yanked sideways – she would have yelped in surprise, but she found herself pressed up against Eriks chest firmly, he was gazing down at her, one finger pressed across his lips to indicate her to be silent. Monique nodded, trying her best to listen out for what had spooked him. She couldn't hear anything… had he just wanted to get close to her? She raised one eyebrow and looked up at him coyly, noticing that her right hand was planted on his upper chest, and despite the layers between them, she could feel the muscular definition.
Erik
frowned when he caught her expression. And then Monique heard the
sound of approaching voices – they grew gradually louder, then
began to fade once more. Okay, so he hadn't just wanted to get
close to her. Moniques felt a blush rise to her cheeks, sometimes
her thoughts were so foolish.
"Come." Erik suddenly broke the
spell of her embarrassing thoughts, and they were on the move again.
Erik parted the curtains that veiled box 5, and allowed Monique to step through. Monique walked to the edge of the box, leaning out over the balcony.
Erik
grabbed her shoulder from behind, "Come away from there." He
murmured, pulled her back gently, towards the seats, which, without
the lights on, was relatively shadowed. "I don't want anyone to
know we're up here." He elaborated.
Monique shrugged, "You
know, I reckon it'd be fun to go and scare some people." She
grinned, seating herself on his left side. Erik turned his head
slightly, allowing her only a view of the unmasked side of his face.
He regarded her darkly.
"… Orr.. not." She added.
He turned back to look out at the stage.
'Spoil sport.' She thought to herself, pouting.
"Is it a habit to always pout when you don't get your way?" he inquired, turning back to look at her. His tone not belittling, more curious… somewhat friendly.
"Is it a habit to always deny people their own way?" Monique countered.
He looked amused, "If I let you have your way, I fear I could end up suffering for it."
Moniques eyes drifted downwards, then travelled slowly back up to meet his eyes, a slow, slightly crooked smile spread across her lips, "You never know…" her eyebrows flicked up quickly, then she looked back to the stage, where peoples voices could be heard.
'Oh my god… I'm so bad.' Monique giggled childishly in her head.
Erik looked at Monique out of the corner of his eyes. She was a strange one. Very hard to figure out indeed. Her tone… that look on her face, he'd seen that before – not directed at himself, but between the stage hands and the ballet rats. Her blindness was inconceivable.
Kari was stood centre stage, flanked by Yekaterina, with the Director standing before the two of them. They spoke in hushed tones, and Monique could not make out what they were saying; but it soon became clear when Yekaterina stepped forward and made a big dramatic scene of getting herself into a comfortable stance. Kari slunk back to the side of the stage, while the Director descended the steps into the auditorium, and took a seat in the third row to watch and listen. Then Yekaterina began to sing. Monique could admit that her voice was quite powerful, and she seemed pretty much on pitch – but she wouldn't have said that it was the nicest of voices she had heard. During Yekaterinas rendition of the Aria, Monique looked over at Erik, he looked contemplative. "What do you think?" she asked before she had finished singing.
"She has potential. Reasonably well trained, and has a good reserve of power behind her notes. But she lacks passion… and purity. There was a time when a voice like this would be widely accepted as accomplished. But I have always subscribed to the bel canto style of singing."
"Bel canto? Beautiful song…?" she roughly translated at a guess.
Erik nodded, "An Italian style of song, emphasising the purity and beauty of the voice over volume."
Monique nodded, "Yeah… I think Karis voice is nicer to listen to then this girl."
Yekaterina finished the song, then the Director spoke for a moment and Kari moved to centre stage.
Both Erik and Monique straightened up in their seats, looking anxiously down at Kari. Her eyes drifted up to eye Box 5 – but neither dared move.
She hesitated a moment, rolling her shoulders back, hunching them up to her ears then letting them fall easily down her back, she took a deep breath – and began to sing.
Monique smiled, she sung even better then how she had sung down in Eriks lair. Her voice carried easily through the theatre, as if it danced freely upon release from her mouth. Monique snuck a look at Erik, he stared down at Kari, his gaze unwavering. He looked almost entranced, it seemed as if her words were right there in the box with them, sitting up on his shoulder, caressing his face – as if just listening to her sing was almost sensual. Monique looked back at Kari, she too, seemed entranced – emotions coming and going across her face, her eyes searching the upper reaches of the theatre.
When Kari finished singing, there was another mini conference between her, the director, and Yekaterina. Yekaterina stepped towards centre stage once more. It seemed they were both going to get another chance to sing. She paused a moment, looking into the wings, then took a large labouring breath and began to sing once more. Erik sneered with distaste during Yekaterinas second sing through, while Monique thought evil thoughts and directed them at Yekaterinas head.
Monique shook her head, "It really is clearly obvious that Kari is the better singer! Friend or not… I can see that!" Monique gesticulated exaggeratedly.
"I don't believe she has much endurance… she forces her voice to get the high notes, rather then meeting them easily. She could be trained out of it, but in the meantime it must be uncomfortable." Erik mused.
Following Yekaterinas sing through, Kari had another go. She, if at all possible, sang even better the second time around, seeming more relaxed – her eyes gazing up into box 5, singing for Erik as promised, and as he had stipulated – she sang, indeed, like an angel.
Monique clapped silently from Box 5 on Karis completion, and it was obvious from Karis face that she was satisfied with her performance. Erik, it seemed, was also pleased. Gazing down at Kari, with an almost proud…. satisfied gaze.
The director climbed the stairs from the auditorium onto the stage and stepped forward to speak with the two girls once more, obviously to deliver the speech they were waiting for. Monique could barely wait for congratulate Kari, she wanted to jump down into the auditorium and do it right then. But… jumping would have been rather hazardous to her health. As they regrouped to the side of the stage, Kari paused to gaze up into box 5 and give an anxious-come-excited smile, which Monique returned, despite knowing she couldn't be seen from the shadows.
Then
Yekaterina stopped also, her gaze moved momentarily up towards box 5,
following Karis gaze, then she frowned and turned towards the wings.
As if on cue, a distinguished looking man emerged, obviously
conversing with Yekaterina as he walked proudly across the stage. He
paused a moment, an air of self-satisfaction coming off him, then he
approached the Director.
"Oh crap." Monique groaned.
Erik turned towards her.
"That's her father…" Monique murmured, as if it was painful merely to say.
She stared shocked into a daze, barely believing it could be happening.
"Yekaterinas father! He's a benefactor of the Pierre De Coueluff Opera Company… the company they," she gestured down at the stage, "belong to."
"Oh."
Erik replied, his tone interested, pleased that a benefactor had come
to congratulate his student.
Monique stared at him.
"…
OH." He said again, this time knowing full well what his visit
implied.
Monique shook her head, "Damnit, she is so much better then that kats-a-bitch biarch! But no, that cow will get the part, just 'cos daddys got cash!" she growled and kicked at the ground.
Erik looked disturbed by the news, his eyes drifted to the rafters above the stage.
"No Erik." Monique interrupted before he could even begin to think those thoughts.
"If they choose money over merit then those fools shoot themselves in the foot."
"Unfortunately, people still worship money… that's something that wont have changed since you were in charge here." Monique replied, looking down at Karis small form.
In that moment, everything had changed. Monique knew… and it seemed, Kari knew it too. It was evident in her posture, and the way her eyes sadly, almost embarrassedly, flicked up at box 5 that Kari knew her fate, before it was even announced.
The four of them then spoke for a few minutes, and even from the box seating it was obvious the information that had been transpired - Yekaterina leapt into her fathers arms, squealing with joy. And so all Karis hard work had got her nowhere. Her fate had been sealed, based not on what she had or could have achieved, but on someone elses familial laurels. Monique sank further into her chair, disappointed, gutted, and now afraid to see Kari for fear of not having the right words to say.
Monique watched sadly as Kari took the stairs down from the stage and into the auditorium, she walked slowly and unsurely through the auditorium as if in a daze. Monique turned to Erik, "What are we gonna do?"
Erik cast
a dark look toward Yekaterina on the stage.
"Aside from anything
like what you're thinking." Monique added.
"Go and wait for her beside the staircase." Erik instructed, he then turned to face her directly, "Bring her to me." As if he held the cure. Perhaps he did. Perhaps he was the cure.
Monique didn't wait around to see if there was anymore to be said, she gave him a parting look and hurried towards the staircase.
But she needn't have hurried. For it was, it seemed, a case of hurry up and wait. There was no one around… not a single soul wandering this part of the theatre, and not a single sound to even catch her attention. Monique sank down to sit on the top stair, resting against the balustrade. With lack of anything else to do Monique amused herself by running through the lyrics of the songs she had to know for Moulin Rouge. She was most of the way through the fourth song, when she finally heard the sound of someone approaching.
Monique looked up, walking up the stairs towards her – was Kari. She looked fragile despite the brave smile smothered across her face. "Oh Kari…" Monique began, standing.
Kari shook
her head, "It's okay. I'm… fine." She managed.
"I'm
sorry." Monique added, as if it counted for anything.
"Who was
to know?" Kari shrugged indifferently.
Monique was somewhat
impressed, she was doing a great job of playing it off as if the loss
of the role was really no big deal to her. Or was Kari just tougher
then she seemed? Maybe it didn't phase her.
"He wants to see you." Monique lead Kari back towards box 5.
If Kari was anxious, she didn't show it. She walked calmly toward box 5, not pausing at the entrance, just stepping across the threshold as if it were something she did every day.
But then she saw him. And her clever façade broke down. And so did she. She burst into miserable tears as soon as she lay eyes on him, but she didn't stop walking. She kept moving, tears streaming down her cheeks until she could walk no further – until she was pressed right up against Erik. She threw her arms around him in despair, and wept bitterly, sobbing forcefully into his chest. Monique watched from the entrance of Box 5, stunned. Partly because she'd never seen Kari like this, partly because she'd acted so well, right up until she'd seen Erik, partly because she could barely think what to do – but, lastly, because Erik responded to her. After a lengthy moments hesitation, he slowly wrapped his arms around her torso, cradling her shuddering from against him. She disappeared into him, her wailing muffled against the smooth fabric of his dress coat.
Monique watched in shocked silence for some time, and gradually Karis sobs began to ebb. But she began to speak, "I'm sorry.. I'm s… s.. so.. . sorry.. Erik" she began to sobbing raspily once more, trying to look up at him. Erik ran his hand down against the back of her head and pressed her face towards his chest once more, muffling her cries. "Do not be sorry. You sang like the angel you are. That fool is blinded by greed. But as greed makes her foolish, and easily manipulated. It shall also be her undoing." He murmured softly, there was a hint of foreboding in his voice, but it was clear that her 'undoing' would not be a result of any action taken against her, but the natural course of life, as it were.
In box 5 – many emotions stirred. Feeling things that were too complex for her to explain and justify to herself Monique slipped away silently, through the curtains, to save herself the trouble of trying to understand the emotions trying desperately to be noticed in her mind. It was painful to watch. For many reasons. She tried to refuse succumbing to her thoughts, but they were too powerful… and they were all she had.
It
saddened her to see Kari lose the part, especially to
Yekaterina, but it broke her heart to see Kari so upset. And there
was nothing she could do. Especially with Erik supplying the comfort
she needed; and perhaps - though she tried her best not to admit it
even to herself – that was bothering her also. 'No, I'm just
tired.' Monique assured herself, starting to walk to keep her mind
off the rampaging thoughts in her brain. She found herself back at
the staircase where she had been waiting for Kari, and seated
herself, just the same as before. 'It doesn't bother me… I'm
just sad for her.' She decided resolutely.
'Then why does it
bother you to see him hugging her?' her mind taunted her.
Monique tried to refuse even entertaining those thoughts, trying to convince herself she wasn't bothered.
But it did bother her. It bothered her a lot. Why had he returned Karis' affections and never hers? She felt a little pang of hurt… possibly mixed with jealousy, but then why should she be so surprised? Her own parents could not show her affection. So why a man who barely knew her?
Now you've read… it's your turn to write. It's called courtesy :P.
VVVV
