Chapter 2
The Glass Room
Meg sat on her bed, slowly removing her toe shoes from her aching feet. The practice had been hard, especially on Meg who was expected to stay long after the other girls had finished. Now after seven hours of dancing straight, the little blonde wanted nothing more than to just lie down and sleep for the rest of the night. It might have only been six o'clock, but she was far too tired to do anything, even getting changed to go and eat with the others was too much of a chore at the moment. Plus, she reasoned that she needed all the sleep she could get, tomorrow being the opening night and all.
Stripping out of her leotard and tights, Meg pulled on her soft cotton night dress, already feeling better now that she was out of the constraining ballet uniform. Sighing as she slipped into bed, she enjoyed the feel of the smooth satin sheets beneath her skin. She closed her eyes, drifting off almost immediately, something that a month ago would have been impossible in the crowded dormitory where she once lived.
Her peaceful sleep that night would be short-lived, for no sooner had it seemed that her exhausted body finally got the relaxation that it needed, then a loud knock at her door startled her awake. For a moment Meg wasn't sure what had happened until she heard the sharp knock once again.
"Who's there?" Meg called out quietly.
"It's me Meg, open the door quickly," Little Jammes called from the outside.
Curious as to why the girl who seemed to hate her so much would be at her door, Meg got up quickly and let her in.
"Oh Meg, hurry! Come quickly!" she said as she grabbed the tired dancer by the arm and began to pull her out of the room.
"Wait, I need my dressing gown and slippers."
"There isn't time, we have to hurry!"
Little Jammes gave Meg no time argue as she managed to get her out of her bedroom and pull her behind her, running quickly through the backstage area.
"Jammes, what's going on?" Meg asked, now fully awake and completely aware of how the hard wood did nothing to help her bare, sore feet as she pounded after the taller dancer.
"Oh it's horrible, it's horrible!" she screeched.
Knowing she'd get no answer from the overly dramatic Jammes, Meg just continued to run after her, trying her best not to lose her. Suddenly Little Jammes came to a stop, almost causing Meg to run into her.
"Now, what was so urgent that you had to get me out of bed and rush here?" Meg asked as she looked around the ballroom.
The room was eerie and completely silent. Meg had been in the ballroom many times before, the last time being when she had attended the ill-fated Bal Masque, but she had never been there when it was so completely deserted.
"Hurry, go and stand there," Jammes said as she pointed to the decorative circle in the middle of the staircase. "You can see it from there, oh it's so horrible!"
Wanting to leave as quickly as possible so that she could crawl back in the warmth of her bed, Meg decided to humor Little Jammes and went to stand where she had indicated.
"Now what exactly am I supposed to be seeing?" she asked as she looked around slowly, though she saw nothing out of the ordinary, and certainly nothing that could be described as "horrible".
"Remember the night of the masquerade?"
"Yes, but what does that have to do with what you want me to see?"
"Don't you remember how we all wondered where Monsieur le Vicomte de Changy disappeared to when he went after the Phantom?"
"Yes," Meg answered tentatively.
"Well, now you're going to find out."
"What do you-"
Meg didn't get a chance to finish her sentence as Little Jammes pressed a small button at the head of the stairs, the floor giving away under the startled ballerina's feet. She screamed as she fell the short distance to the ground beneath the staircase, the momentum sending her crashing into one of the many mirrors. Meg held her small hands over her head as best she could, trying to protect herself from the raining shards of glass. Fighting to stay conscious she looked up through the hole she had fallen through and saw Little Jammes peering down, a smirk on her lips.
"Wh-why?" Meg asked softly, her head spinning.
"Good night Meg, and don't worry, I'll do an excellent job in your role in Hannibal."
"Please don't leave me!" she cried sharply.
"I'm sure someone will find you in a few days, after all, they'll just think the Phantom is back and that he kidnapped you like he did Christine. Eventually someone will think to look here, and if they don't, maybe I'll remind someone of this place."
"No, please!" Meg called, her body wracked with sobs from pain and thought of being stuck down there. "Please come back!"
But it was too late, Little Jammes had already walked away and the trap-door closed, plunging the mirrored room into darkness. Meg allowed a few tears to slip from her eyes before her body finally lost its battle with consciousness.
…
The past four months had certainly been hard for the Phantom, not only had he lost the woman that he loved, but he had lost her to a man, who in his mind was unworthy of her love. If only Christine could have looked past his wretched face, then maybe they could have had a chance. He knew she must have felt something for him, otherwise, why would she have saved him from being run through by the Vicomte's sword?
Shaking his head, he was determined to drive those thoughts from his mind. He'd drive himself mad if all he did was think about what could have been with the lovely girl. Erasing her from his life had been easy. When it had been safe for him to go back to his home, he took all the things that had reminded him of her, at least those that were not destroyed by the mob, and burned them. Every last drawing, piece of clothing, and opera written for her had been burned.
Even with every physical memento gone forever, the dark-haired beauty still managed to somehow haunt his mind. He'd dream of her on a regular basis, and it was always the same. She'd come back and wake him from his tortured sleep with a soft kiss. Then she would tell him how she had been wrong, that she could feel nothing for Raoul but the friendship they shared as young children. Oh how his heart would soar at the revelation that she loved him and only him.
But then it would be over. He'd wake up and once again be back in his lonely world, a world without Christine.
And so he had taken to walking his tunnels at night. At least they seemed to temporarily take the angelic singer off his mind. Even if it was only for a few hours, he was grateful. A few hours without thinking of her, without thinking of how she could never be his was a blessing. Especially when he was doomed to live the rest of his life alone, with no one but himself and his thoughts of Christine for company.
His quiet walk that evening was disturbed though when he heard a scream followed by the crashing sound of glass breaking. Narrowing his eyes behind the mask, he walked quickly to the entrance of his room of mirrors. He tore open the door violently, ready to see who dared not only to trespass in his tunnels, but also had the nerve to destroy his property.
Seething he looked down, seeing the broken body of a petite young girl. His anger quickly faded away as he moved to step over her, shards of the mirror crunching underneath his boots. Kneeling carefully, as to avoid the glass scattered around her form, he gently moved the hair around her face. His eyes widened in surprise when he saw that it was none other than Madame Giry's daughter, Little Meg!
Knowing that he couldn't leave the hurt girl where she lay, he made the decision to take her back to his home. With great care, he removed the reflective glass from her once flawless skin that was now scattered with cuts and scrapes. Trying his best not to wake her, he slowly lifted the slight girl into his arms, her cold body pressed firmly against his chest. Wondering what he would do with a most likely frightened and hysterical girl when she woke up, the Phantom steadily made his way through the underground labyrinth, to his home.
