AN: I don't own the phantom of the opera. Also, thanks to ThePhantomsShadow, Kay Blue Eyes, and Renegade (Kurt! You silly goose!) for your reviews. I apologize for this chapter coming so late and being short. I've had a lot going on with little time to write. I also do not think it is as good as my others. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!
Chapter Six:
(Michelle's POV)
Lessons had gone on as usual for a week, each day becoming longer and more tiresome than the previous. Recently it had been well past midnight before he left, allowing me only a few hours sleep before the next day's activities. Meg and the other girls had never forgotten me when they were doing something special at night, though I had never obliged their requests to join them. I knew this hurt their feelings, but how could I tell them of my lessons? I couldn't very well tell them that the opera ghost was my tutor. I would be locked away as a mental patent.
How I wanted to direct some very unladylike curses towards the ill mannered, psychopathic, man that now seemed to hold my life in his very hands. Even without him being present, he was still able to control my actions. I had become reclusive; afraid of what he would do should I attempt to disobey him. This caused many people to keep their distance from me, yet at the same time it had made me the central conversation piece with the ballet rats' gossip.
It was six thirty in the evening and we had just been released from Madame Giry's toughest practice session yet. She was obviously in a fowl disposition, yelling even at Meg for tiny mistakes that only she was able to point out. I had seen her in a bad mood earlier that week, but couldn't imagine what would cause her to be on such a rampage. Across the stage from me were a few other girls who were also warming down. I could feel their eyes upon my lone figure as they gossiped.
"That girl is going to be an old maid. I mean, look at her! She is plain as a wooden crate and not the most sociable of people if I say so myself." Henriette Petit sniggered to the few girls that would listen. She was the lead singer in the chorus, a year older than me, and prone to making snide comments about those whom she believed fell below her standards. Lately I had been her favorite target and could only try to ignore her during rehearsals when she would snicker at me.
I sighed and continued to warm down; listening to the girls talk about me as if I were not on the same country, much less in the same room. Henriette smirked as she heard my sigh and cast her cold blue eyes upon me.
"What are you sighing about? I only speak the truth." Her voice was full of menacing laughter and as sharp as a butcher's knife. "You know," she continued, "you have already fallen out of favor with much of the opera. Why do you not leave? You are nothing more than a waste of perfectly good space!"
I closed my eyes, determined not to allow them the privilege of seeing me shed tears. What she said had cut me to the heart. And I knew who was to blame. I opened my eyes again and looked at the clock on the wall, seething with anger. I stood there for a few moments; fully aware of their intense gazes watching my every move. I quickly regained my demeanor and picked my belongings up, making my way to my room. How dare he ruin my life in such a way! All I wanted was to start life anew somewhere and possibly have the chance of being happy again. He had dashed that away, all in his hopes to use my voice for his own twisted dreams whatever they may be. I couldn't truly believe that he tutored me for my own benefit. Where there is a service, there is usually a price.
(Erik's POV)
I had only just arrived through Michelle's mirror when she had burst angrily into the room. We stopped and stared at each other at the same time.
"You!" she screeched, pointing her finger at me. "You ruined any chance I had ever had for having a normal life again!"
"Be thankful that you have been allowed to live a normal life at all you insolent little wretch!" I growled, my anger being fuelled by her loose phrasing of that insufferable word. The one word that would haunt me until the day I die. I watched, not really pleased with the look of hurt on her face, but more triumphant that I had gotten her to stop in her tracks. "I can give you the world, Michelle. What do you care of those little girls out there?" I pointed to the door to emphasize my meaning.
"They wanted to be my friends." She ground out angrily. "And yet I can't allow them too because of your ridiculous demands on my time!"
I slowly stalked towards her until I was but a few inches away. I looked down at her, using my height to my advantage. "My demands are not ridiculous. And you are an insufferable little heathen to not be thankful for the future that I am offering to you!"
"You talk of the accomplishments that I can reach! What is in all of this for you?" I watched as her eyes burned with anger.
I sighed and looked down at her, silently pleading her to understand. "This I can not tell you, Michelle." My voice was soft, trying desperately to calm her down. "In time I will, or perhaps you will understand on your own." I saw her visibly relax, pleased that my voice hadn't lost its desired affect on certain people. I dreaded the day when she would learn to resist it. She nodded slowly and I stepped back.
"Now we start your lessons." I said circling her, making sure she held her posture properly.
The next day I was somewhat irritated to not see Michelle at rehearsals. I had waited nearly half an hour, scanning the stage from my seat in box five and even haunting the cat walks hoping to see her somewhere backstage; but she was no where to be found.
"I knew she would leave sooner or later." said one of the chorus girls that I recognized to be Henriette Petit. I waited a few moments later to figure out exactly whom she was talking about.
"It's odd though…" countered another girl. "I wouldn't expect Michelle to just up and leave." I felt my heart stop at these words and left as Madame Giry approached the girls. I didn't linger to hear what she had to say, I had to know for sure if Michelle had left. I quickly ran through the passageways to her room, praying to any deity that would listen that the girls were wrong about Michelle's apparent departure. I stopped as I reached the backside of her mirror and cautiously looked into the room.
Michelle was, thankfully, still there. I gave a sigh of relief but suddenly noticed a doctor standing above her bed and checking her temperature. Monsieur Firmin was by the door way.
"It looks like the beginnings of Scarlet Fever." The doctor said slowly. I watched in worry as I heard Michelle try to clear her throat. "I suggest bed rest for at least a week, possibly longer. She is not to be disturbed and she needs plenty of liquids." He said turning to Monsieur Firmin who had an obviously agitated look upon his face. With that the irritated manager nodded and left, apparently to tell the cast and crew about Michelle's illness.
"You'll be fine, Mademoiselle. Just make sure to get plenty of rest and drink a lot of liquids. I will check up on you at the end of the week. Also, try not to be in any close contact with anyone. We don't want this to spread." The doctor said kindly. With that he turned around and left.
I waited until I felt it would be safe before I opened the mirror and stepped out into the room.
"Scarlet Fever." I said simply. Michelle opened her eyes and looked at me. I could see the pain radiating through her orbs. She nodded and closed her eyes once again. I slowly made my way to her bed and picked her up. She shook her head no and motioned to her throat then to me.
"I would rather catch it myself than to allow some doctor who knows not of what he is doing treat you." I said simply as I made my way to the mirror. I was mentally screaming at myself to stop and put her back, that it was idiotic to take her into my labyrinth. These worries were soon driven away when I heard her try to clear her throat again.
The journey to my home was quiet save for the occasional sound of Michelle clearing her throat. During the journey she clung on to me as a small child would and tiredly rested her head against my shoulder. I noticed that she was careful not to breathe on me by facing her head the other way. It warmed my heart to know that she did not want to make me sick as well. We finally reached the lake and I gently placed her into the gondola. She looked around, fascinated, at her surroundings.
When we had finally made it to my home I heard her give a short intake of breath. She looked at me and I could tell that she wanted to say something, but I shook my head.
"No, you need to rest your voice. Do not speak." I stated simply stepping out of the gondola and turning to pick her up. I carried her to the Louis-Phillipe room; a room that I had not ever expected another being to reside in. I held her in my arms as I pulled back the covers on the bed and laid her down.
"Get some rest. I'll come back to check on you in a little while." I said, pulling the covers over her. She nodded tiredly and I turned walking out of the room. I looked around, memories of that room and my home holding a different girl flooded my mind. Nothing to remind me of Christine was there any longer. I had long ago burned the drawings and wedding dress that I had made for her. All the remained was the ring that she had given me before she had left with that boy. Now, I realized the obsession that filled me with her. I knew that if I was not careful that this obsession would reach Michelle as well. This was a thought that greatly vexed me.
I sat down in my chair and smiled slightly as Ayesha jumped up with a short meow. I stroked the cat lovingly and pondered on my future actions. I had some medicines stored away for such illnesses as the Scarlet Fever, but thought that I might have to conjure up a new batch due to the others age. I shook my head and looked at Ayesha, my little queen, who stared at me knowingly. For so long she had been the only woman in my life, even Christine had been somewhat jealous of her at one point. I knew that Ayesha detested Christine, and wondered if she would hold the same hostilities toward Michelle.
"Do not pass judgment on her so quickly, Ayesha." I stated simply. She purred and nudged her head against my hand. I watched as the feline jumped down and made her way to the Louis-Phillipe room. She turned and looked at me and gave a short meow.
"No, Ayesha." I said. My little queen stuck up her tail and wondered in the room anyway, much to my frustration. I decided to leave her be and walked off to prepare a medicine for Michelle. Scarlet Fever had been known to take the lives of many, and I was going to do anything without my power to make sure that Michelle wasn't in those numbers.
