His attention was drawn to some activity nearby on the roof. Instinctively, he hid himself behind a statue of an angel.
"Belle!" Christian thought that his flight to the roof was fairly discreet, but how had she been able to find him? Was she that fast?
"Christian, are you all right?" Belle's eyes scanned him.
"She's followed him!" Realized Erik, "What does she want now?" Frustrated at her interference, he stayed silent and listened.
Christian was not especially happy to see her. "I'm quite all right, Belle... if you please, I need some moments alone and-."
But Jezebelle brushed that aside as if he had said nothing. "Christian," she said, her voice serious, "I've been wanting to say this for so long, and however difficult it will be to say it... I love you..."
She was amazed at her own courage. She never thought that she would be able to get it past her lips. But there. She'd said it. To a childhood friend that she'd admired.
Christian had sensed something. He wasn't surprised, but it was still a jolt to him to hear it. "In love with me?" he inquired, not believing what she'd just said.
"Yes, very much so!" Jezebelle said, impassioned. She stepped closer to him. "I was taken by the sight of you singing like you were on the night of your debut, but you've kept me spellbound since that day we met on the Seine. You've been a wonder for me... I've thought about you for so long...
"Oh Christian...!" Belle, overcome with emotion, started towards Christian, ready to embrace him.
Christian was more startled than ever."What! Oh no, I knew that something didn't feel right around her!" It frightened him that not that a childhood friend was in love with him, but a woman. He adored his mother, he loved Meg and her mother... he loved all of his female friends. But he had no interest in being in love with a woman. These advances that Jezebelle was making frightened him.
"Please, no, Belle...!" Christian said abruptly, stepping back. "I am flattered, but I can't... I love you, but as a friend..." He sighed, relieved that he'd let the words out.
Erik did the same. "Thank goodness! I was afraid of what she might do!" he thought, peering out from behind the statue.
Belle gaped at him. Christian Daaƫ, the boy who had saved her hat, who said that he loved her many a time in their childhood, had refused her?
Jezebelle did not hide her disappointment. "Christian, I know that many men will refuse... I should have know that this would come,..." then she realized something. She'd been suspicious about the mysterious visitor in Christian's dressing room. Could Christian be of that kind? The "temperamental" sort? She had sensed that something was off with him, but wasn't sure of what.
"Who was that man in your dressing room?" Her voice accusing.
Christian stared at her, startled. "What? Did I hear that right?"
"Jezebelle, that is not your concern-!"
"Do you have a man in your life? Are you of the temperamental sort?"
Horror settled over Christian's face... his pale face flushed red with fury.
Erik's eyes went wide. "She suspects us? I didn't expect her to come back so soon!"
"Christian, the Bible has clearly stated that it is forbidden to for a man to lie with another man. It's defiance against Adam and-."
But Christian barely heard what she was saying. He knew that many out there would hate men of his kind, the men who "preferred" masculine love over the love of a woman. But a childhood friend saying this awoke him with an enormous shock.
"Jezebelle de Chagny! How could I have ever befriended you? You deceived me, you lied to me, you demon!"
Erik grimaced, growing angrier by the moment, but kept himself hidden.
"The right girl will cure you of this illness, this..."
Christian had enough. He slapped her... hard. Jezebelle staggered, falling to the floor.
"A leopard never changes its spots and a whore like you never changes her way with men! I can't believe I ever befriended you, you traitor, you harlot!" he snapped.
Tears ran down Jezebelle's face... but her pain suddenly turned to cunning. "What would Firmin and Andre say about this?" her lips twisted into an icy smile.
It took Christian all of his might to not show fear. "I have done nothing, you wretched girl. What I do is none of your pathetic business. Now do as I said to you. Leave me!" he started to approach her, his fists balled up.
Jezebelle knew that she shouldn't argue with him, but she could see that he was not telling the truth. "You say that you have done nothing, yet you are unusually defensive toward such sinful people..." she thought. She rushed away, back into the warmth of the opera house.
No sooner than Jezebelle left, Erik stepped out of the shadows. He'd heard every word.
Christian felt his strength leave him as he saw his lover. "Erik...!" he mouthed feebly. He felt black fabric wrap around him.
"Christian, angel...!" Erik whispered into the dark waves of hair. Warm tears oozed from Christian's eyes.
"Hush, darling. I'm here... it's all right...!" Erik murmured. "Oh goodness...! Don't cry, love. It breaks my heart to have you in such pain."
"What will we do, Erik...? She knows...!"
"Don't be afraid, Christian... I'll see to it that she'll keep her rotten mouth shut."
Christian mourned. Mourned the death of his mother, the prejudice that threatened to swallow him and Erik up, and now the danger that they would be betrayed by his own friend, now a threat.
He trembled.
Erik held Christian a few moments longer and said "You'd best go back, Christian. They'll wonder where you are."
Christian hung his head, overwhelmed by the evening. "Erik, were you mad? Killing Buquet...? What will become if..."
Erik placed his fingers upon Christian's lips. "He is not dead, Christian. He is merely drugged. He will awaken the same as he was, but perhaps he will be wiser before saying anything ill of me."
Christian sighed, relieved... but that did not take away from the drama of what happened only moments ago. Stray tears traced down his cheeks, but Erik leaned in and kissed them away.
"Erik-" he said suddenly, not knowing what he wanted to say.
But Erik was gone.
Christian dashed back down the stairs, wanting to finish changing costumes.
"I thought that I had put most of my suffering behind when Christian and I began our love..." Erik recalled the beatings, the harshness of his mother, the nights of terror... he did his best to not let them take over him and communicate them to Christian calmly. Now an obsessive young noblewoman wanted his beloved.
He sighed tiredly, thinking about setting aside his composing for the night. His tiredness slipped away momentarily at the thought of Christian and himself in their boudoir...
"Erik?"
Erik looked up from his violin-playing. Christian stood in the doorway, his eyes ringed with darkness in the candlelight. He looked exhausted, frightened.
"What is the matter, love?"
Christian gazed at Erik. His mask was lying on a nearby table, his shirt undone, his eyes gazing deep into Christian's eyes, searching for an answer.
Christian winced, scared to death that this precious image would be shattered.
"It's Jezebelle, isn't it?" Erik sighed with realization. Christian nodded, his face somber and pinched with anxiety. He was breathing rather heavily. Erik knew that look, and it broke his heart to see Christian thus. Erik reached his arms out to him.
"Come, darling...!" Obeying that gentle command, Christian gave a soft cry as as he felt the soft fabric that covered Erik's shoulder.
"Erik, I...!" Christian's voice was muffled.
"Shhh... hush, dearheart..." a knot in Erik's throat grew hard as he felt Christian's tight, frightened embrace. They stayed there, crying silently for much of the night.
