White Roses

Disclaimer: If I owned this, I would be sitting here laughing at the people writing phanphiction. Given that I am writing phanphiction, I think it would be pretty safe to say that I don't own this. Ho-hum.

Shattered Illusions

Erik shifted as he peered over the low balustrade at the very back of the theatre. He was pleased to see the opera house filling quickly; he wanted as many people as possible to see Antoinette's debut. Erik had watched her rehearsals and took great satisfaction in seeing how much she enjoyed it and the speed at which she progressed. Granted, she was by no means a prima ballerina yet, but Erik had full confidence that someday she would be. He shifted again, quite uncomfortable in his crouched position. He had considered hiding in one of the boxes before overhearing that a full house was expected, so he had resigned himself to his place up the back.

The sound of the chattering crowd over the orchestra warming up was one that inspired great adrenaline in Erik - it represented so much to him. This was what preceded the magic of the performance. This was the lead-up to the incredible. This was the moment he had been waiting for. Erik could hardly wait for Antoinette to come visit him afterwards, gushing about the performance, and the time for him to finally tell her how he had given this to her. He imagined her beaming face, lighting up as she realised exactly how much Erik cared about her. And, of course, Erik reminded himself, there is the other present.

Finally, the orchestra struck up the overture and the crowd a hush swept over the crowd. Erik took a final glance over the audience; all was quiet. His gaze shifted to the boxes, occupied by the people who walked in higher circles - counts, lords, barons and the like. All were full except, he noticed, one that had been previously taken. He racked his brains and remembered the couple who had sat there. He did not know their names, only that they appeared to be fairly haughty. Another scan of the boxes informed Erik that they were, in fact, making their way from box to box, talking to each of the occupants in turn. Erik had heard of this happening, but had never been able to understand this attitude - as if a performance was nought but an opportunity to raise one's own social status. A performance should be about the art! Erik thought, angrily. Nevertheless, he found a rather obvious silver lining in the situation. Smiling more broadly, he stood, stretching his legs, and made his way to the vacant box. He knew full well that the couple would most probably mingle throughout the whole opera, and thought it such a shame for the comfortable chairs inside to go to waste. Erik quickly made his way to the door to the box. Before he settled in, he stole a brief glance at the placard on the door.

"Box Five".

x-x-x-x

Antoinette checked her reflection one last time in the mirror. Having her own dressing room was an exciting novelty for her, and she had taken full advantage of the extra space - the fact that she could dress and apply her stage make-up without constantly banging elbows with the other girls, or being shoved a half-empty wine bottle from time to time. Finally she was satisfied, and made her way to the wings a few minutes early.

"Are you nervous?" asked her new partner, a tall dancer named Etienne.

"A little," Antoinette murmured.

"It really is the waiting that is the worst," Etienne said, trying to peer out at the audience without being seen himself. "Once you get onstage - you forget everything. Trust me."

Antoinette smiled faintly. "I hope you're right."

"I am," Etienne replied, returning the smile. "Don't worry. You'll be wonderful. Do that fellow of yours proud."

Antoinette blushed furiously at the comment, but before she could answer, Madame Leblanc called for the dancers to warm up, and she was obliged to join them.

x-x-x-x

Erik waited in complete comfort for the ballet. The singing was exquisite, but not even that could distract him from what he longed to see. Finally, the corps de ballet made their way out, executing their routine to perfection, courtesy of Madame Leblanc's hard training. Erik quickly found Antoinette, but she was no longer at the back. Instead, she was in the centre of the front row, dancing as if it were the easiest thing in the world. Several more bars of music passed and Antoinette broke away from the group, meeting Etienne centre stage. Slowly, they began their graceful dance, captivating Erik. As that too drew to a close and the audience applauded, Erik looked across the theatre, and noticed a tall, blonde man clapping wildly and smiling broadly, sitting in the opposite box. Erik cracked a smile. Lucas Giry, he thought. After tonight, Antoinette will be mine.

x-x-x-x

As Antoinette took her curtain call with Etienne, she found herself completely unable to wipe the grin from her face. The applause swelled as she curtsied - This, she thought, must be the greatest feeling in the world. She looked up towards the boxes and quickly located a certain one. She beamed up as Lucas stood and clapped for her. No, Antoinette decided, fondly, it's not. Being in love must be greater than this.

And with those thoughts, she was obliged to move aside as the curtain calls continued.

x-x-x-x

As soon as Antoinette left the stage, Erik near flew down to his lair. He had something else for Antoinette. It was laid out on his bed, still as beautiful as he remembered. The dress was exquisite - a creation of dark green silk with sloping shoulders, wide sleeves and a full skirt. Erik had also procured a matching parasol and bonnet. Now it was time to present them to Antoinette.

Holding the garments carefully, Erik crept back up the staircase and sneaked into Antoinette's dressing-room. He was preparing to hang the garments in the armoire for her to find, but a small "Oh!" of surprise stopped him in his tracks, Erik turned warily, but relaxed when he saw Antoinette standing there. He smiled at her, draped his presents over a chair and made his way over to her.

"Erik, what are -"

"Antoinette, you were perfect!" Erik said, cutting off the ballerina.

"Why, thank you Erik," Antoinette replied, a little haltingly.

Erik frowned. "Antoinette, why is your expression so? You looked so happy onstage."

At this Antoinette smiled. "I was. I am. It's an amazing experience, Erik."

"I would assume so."

But then Antoinette turned hesitant again. Erik frowned and wondered what could be troubling her.

"Erik," Antoinette said, "what, may I ask, are you doing here?"

Erik brushed away the question. "You need not nag me. I keep myself well hid and you know it."

"That is not what I am bothered about," Antoinette replied before gesturing to the items on her chair. "What I meant to ask was: what on earth are those?"

Erik's amber eyes lit up. "They are yours."

With that, he picked up the garments and handed them to Antoinette, who accepted them a little gingerly, eyes wide and incredulous. She fingered the delicate detail on the dress before turning confused eyes on Erik, who was watching her in confident anticipation.

"Erik, I - I don't know what to say," she stammered.

"Do you like them?" Erik pressed.

"They - They - where on earth did you get them? They must have cost a fortune! Wait -" Antoinette broke off, eyes narrowing accusingly. "Were you out in the town's modistes? How could you? Did you not -"

"Calm yourself, Antoinette," Erik said, placing a hand on her shoulder. "It was dark. Nobody saw me."

"Oh, well I suppose that - Erik!" Antoinette's mouth dropped open in shock. "You didn't steal them, did you?"

Her horrified expression confused Erik. Surely she should be happy that he had been able to risk that for her?

"Antoinette, I -"

"You did! Erik!" Antoinette shoved Erik's gifts back at him. "I can't take these!"

"Why not?" Erik retorted, confidence crumbling under his tough façade.

"Well, firstly because they are not rightfully mine nor yours," Antoinette said, matter-of-factly. "Secondly because I have no idea why you would want to give me such things."

She folded her arms in a conclusive gesture. Erik looked down at the rejected gifts in his arms and felt the back of his eyes burning, but again he refused to cry in front of Antoinette. Inwardly, he wept. Erik had been so sure that Antoinette would appreciate his thoughtfulness; he had taken the most beautiful garments from the modiste - surely any girl would appreciate that! He replayed their conversation in his mind. Where had he slipped up? But then he remembered something else Antoinette had said. I was. I am. It's an amazing experience, Erik.

Smiling now, Erik picked his head up and looked Antoinette in the eye. "But you did enjoy the performance?"

"Erik, yes," Antoinette replied with a puzzled expression, "I did. I told you that."

"I can give you much more than material gifts, Antoinette."

"I beg your pardon?" Antoinette looked genuinely confused now. "Please, do not be so cryptic."

"Antoinette," Erik said, puffing up his chest with pride, "I gave you this."

Her frown deepened. "What did you give me?"

"This!" Erik sighed, frustrated that she did not understand. "I gave you the solo! You enjoyed it, I trust?"

"Erik, are you feeling well?" Antoinette replied. "You are mistaken. Madame Leblanc gave me -"

"Why did she elect you to be the soloist?" Erik pressed.

"Why, Amandine had an accident. Why else?"

Erik smiled. "Correct. An accident."

Antoinette obviously did not miss the underlying message in his tone. She stared at the boy in front of her, face reddening at a rather alarming rate. Her hands, now back by her sides, were clenched into fists and were near shaking with fury.

"Erik!" she exploded. "You - You ... caused that?"

"Of course," Erik replied, bewildered at her reaction. "You cannot tell me that you do not appreciate it. Did it not lead to you dancing tonight?"

Antoinette said nothing, simply seething on the spot. Erik, sensing trouble, went on.

"But, Antoinette, you must not read it the wrong way! It was not as if there were a chance that there would be no soloist. Not a chance at all! And after I paid a visit to Madame Leblanc, there was no doubt who that soloist would be. You - Antoinette! It was all for you!"

After a few failed attempts at stuttering out a response, Antoinette finally managed to spit out a reply. "I cannot believe it!"

Erik relaxed - surely now she saw how much he could give her! "It was no problem, Antoinette. Anything for -"

"You blackmailed Madame Leblanc into letting me dance?" Antoinette near screeched, cutting him off. "Erik, how could you?"

Erik was about to answer, but stopped when he saw tears in her eyes. Antoinette stormed over to the chair and collapsed into it, angrily wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. Eventually she met Erik's eyes and he was shocked to see them so sorrowful.

"Erik, if I am ever to be a prima ballerina, I wished for it to be by my own merit!" Antoinette said. "Not by your doing!"

Erik dumped the clothes on the floor unceremoniously and clenched his own fists, furious now. "I thought it would make you happy!"

'"But why?"

"Why? Why have I done anything for you, Antoinette?"

"Erik, please don't be angry, I -"

"I do so much for you and you never seem to appreciate it!"

"What are you saying? You know that I appreciate you!"

"You do not! Why then do you insist on running around with that pompous manager's son like a common tramp!"

Antoinette's mouth fell open in shock and the tears that had been threatening to fall finally began to spill down her cheeks. Erik. in his ire, felt no remorse for the insulting remark.

"Erik ..."

"What?" he spat bitterly.

"Why are you being so horrid to me?"

"Because I love you!"'

Oooh! Temper, temper, temper. Anyway ... reviewer replies!

Shekiah, thanks, hun! Glad to know that you like it :)

Li Young, we all pity Erik, don't we? I've never understood the women in Erik's life. They always choose the wrong guys!

Gracie, well, I can't see your review on the reviews list, but I got an email alert for it! And yes ... he does learn things in strange ways, eh?