Demons of the Past
Ch. 3 Meeting with the Manager
Author's note: This chapter will be a bit of a transition chapter, but I hope you will still enjoy. I'm sorry if it seems as if Christine and Erik are fighting a lot; but what I'm putting them through is not exactly pleasant. They'll work it out…
Disclaimer: I own the Phantom of the Opera! If I lie, let lightning strike me down. (moving away from computer as rain clouds form over my head)
And now, on with the story…
Christine hurried up the stairs of her house. She entered her master bedroom. Christine reached for the dress that lay neatly pressed on the bed, and proceeded to get changed as fast as she could. She had the dress half way up and buttoned when she realized that she couldn't reach the button in the middle of her dress. She sighed in frustration. Suddenly, she felt the cool touch of delicate fingers on her back. Christine glanced over her shoulder to find her husband.
"You're buttoned up all wrong. Be still a moment." Christine felt Erik rapidly unbutton her dress. When she was dressed properly, she turned and eyed him. He looked ruggedly handsome, dressed in a dark suit. She felt his eyes on her as well.
"You really should learn not to eavesdrop, my dear." Erik looked at her calmly. Christine just shook her head.
"I truly didn't mean too…but it was so loud, and you never fight with Madam Giry…" Christine grabbed his arm. "Erik, I don't want to cause you any more pain. If asking you to share your past with me is too much, then please, let's forget about it. But just so you know…"
Christine looked him straight in the eyes. "I will never leave you…only if you ask it of me yourself."
Erik scowled. "Christine, I deserve your anger, not your acceptance! I can't do it, don't you understand? I can't tell you everything…it's too much for me! It would tear you apart…" Erik swept out of the room quickly, leaving Christine alone. The tears were threatening to fall. She sang, into the empty room, weakly:
Stay by my side, guide me
Angel, my soul was weak, forgive me
Enter at last…
Christine finally broke down. She sank to her knees, alone, and cried all the tears that had been building up. She covered her head with her hands, and sobbed. She felt so utterly alone…and then she felt warm, strong arms around her as a figure came into the room, and dropped down on the floor beside her. Christine couldn't even lift her head. She just leaned into the familiar presence. They just sat on the floor together, lost in each other. Christine finally broke away. She looked at the man beside her.
"What do we do now?"
Erik just shook his head. "I know this much: I never want you to cry because of me again. Nothing is worth that. Not my pride, not my past, and certainly not an argument. You're my angel, Christine. I love you…"
Christine leaned forward and kissed him with all the power she had. She conveyed to him, through one kiss, the love, anguish, despair, and joy that she had in her heart at that moment. Erik felt lost and found all at once. He understood, in one moment, how much this woman really meant to him, and how much he really meant to her.
Erik stood, and helped Christine from the floor.
"Let's just get through this dinner, Christine. After that, we will figure this out."
At precisely four o'clock, there was a knock at the door. Christine stood from the parlor chair she had been sitting in, and glanced at Erik nervously. He smiled encouragingly, and gestured to the door. She went forward, and opened it.
"Monsieur Javere! It is once again an honor…please, come in! May I take your coat?" Christine spoke in a bright, cheerful voice. M. Javere answered in an equal tone.
"Thank you, Madam. It is a pleasure to see you again. I trust you are well?" Javere reached down and kissed the top of her knuckles. She smiled.
"Of course, Monsieur…if you'll just follow me, I'll make the introductions."
Christine led him into the parlor. She was surprised to just see Madam Giry and Meg in the room. Her eyes asked a silent question to Madam Giry. Where is Erik? Madam Giry inclined her head toward the music room. Ah, that's where he was. Christine recovered, and turned to M. Javere.
"I'm sure you already know Madam Giry and her daughter Meg. They have agreed to join us for dinner tonight. They are like family to my husband and I…I do hope you don't mind?"
"Of course not! How do you do, Madam, Mademoiselle? I trust your trip here was pleasant?"
"Actually, it was a bit of a nightmare." Madam Giry nodded to Christine, and started to entertain M. Javere with her experiences with the carriage driver. Christine turned and entered the music room. It was completely dark, but she knew that Erik was there. She could feel his presence.
"Erik?" Christine called into the room softly.
"I'm here…I'm just making sure that everything is in order, should I decided that I want Javere to see my new compositions."
"Then why is it dark?"
"I can see in the dark!" Erik sounded irritated. Christine sighed.
"All right. When you're ready, we are all gathered in the parlor." Christine turned to leave. Erik came beside her.
"We will do it together, right?" Erik asked, his hands going around Christine's waist.
"Of course, Angel."
They left the room together, Erik still clutching her tightly. Madam Giry was just finishing her story.
"And if it wasn't for Erik coming out and giving that garish man a lesson in manners, I would still be arguing with him!"
"It seems as if Monsieur Massenet is a clever man to have around…speaking of which, where is Monsieur Massenet? I am most anxious to meet him."
"I am here, Monsieur. I apologize for my tardiness." Erik, still holding Christine, stepped forward from the shadows. He let go of her, and approached M. Javere. He stretched out his hand as M. Javere rose from the chair he had been occupying. "I am Erik Massenet. I am honored to finally have a face to go with the numerous letters that you have sent."
Javere's eyes looked over Erik. He smiled, and accepted his hand. "The honor is mine to meet someone of your genius, Monsieur." Javere gestured at Christine. "Your beautiful wife is full of praises for your works; when I met her at the Opera House, she just intensified my curiosity about you even more!"
Erik visibly sighed. He nodded toward the exit of the parlor. "Perhaps it is time for dinner. Christine?" Christine nodded and smiled at her guests.
"This way, everyone! Meg, will you help me serve?" The group left the parlor and headed for the dining room.
To Christine's immense pleasure, Javere and Erik seemed to be hitting it off. They talked nonstop through dinner, pausing a few times to compliment hers and Meg's cooking. They were almost in a world by themselves; talking about music, operas, and the basic running of the Opera House. Once dessert had been served, Erik offered to show Javere his music room. The men excused themselves, and left the room. Christine smiled a nervous smile at Madam Giry and Meg.
"What do you think?"
Meg grinned. "It would be more like Erik to hide in the shadows, not talk up a storm! It seems like he really wants to be a patron…I think he's doing it for you, Christine."
Madam Giry nodded. "He is proving to you that he can change. I have a really good feeling about this."
Christine could feel the happiness rise through her body. She knew Erik could do this; she knew that others could see what she saw when she looked at Erik…
Erik came back into the dining room. "My dear, M. Javere wishes to hear a few numbers from the latest opera…will you sing for me?"
Christine smiled. "Of course, Angel. Only for you…"
Erik liked Javere. He didn't know why, but he just had a feeling…he had always been a good judge of character. He lived alone in the catacombs of an Opera House for most of his life, true, but he could always tell with people. Now, just because he liked Javere didn't mean that he trusted him. On the contrary, he still watched with a steady eye, waiting for any sign that Javere might not be all that he seemed. So far, he had stayed in the same context as their letters: talking of his trouble with the Opera Populaire, asking Erik's opinion on certain issues, and gushing about Erik's music. When Erik had brought him into his music room, Javere had gasped.
"Have you written all these compositions?"
"Most of them. Some are reproductions of operas that I have heard. I use to have a lot of free time on my hands, Monsieur. Sometimes I would sit and listen to an orchestra playing, and simply copy their notes onto paper. Music is my life, Monsieur. It is my passion."
"That is most apparent, Monsieur Massenet." Javere walked toward the piano. "May I?" Erik gave consent, and Javere seated himself at the piano. He eyed the piece on the music stand. It was simply entitled 'Paisible'. Javere leaned toward the keys, and attempted to play the complicated rhythms. Erik was impressed by his attempt. It seemed that finally the Opera Populaire had a manager that knew a little about music. Erik smiled.
"This is my latest work, Monsieur Javere. It is not quiet finished."
"Paisible? It does not sound appropriate, Monsieur. It sounds the furthest thing from 'peaceful'." Javere looked at Erik in confusion. "I don't mean to insult you, Monsieur…"
"You must hear the piece as I do. Please, allow me to fetch my wife. The words are as important to this piece as the music itself."
"Of course! I would be honored."
Erik left, and fetched Christine. Once out of the dining room, she looked at him with a broad smile on her face.
"Doesn't exactly have a torch and a pitchfork, does he?"
Erik grabbed her hand and pulled her from the kitchen. "Now is not the time for gloating, my dear. I will gladly take my punishment at a later date."
Christine resisted. "What kind of punishment?"
Erik pulled her again. "Anything you want."
"Really?"
Erik pulled Christine into his body. He breathed slightly into her ear, causing shivers to run up and down her spine. "Anything."
Erik pushed her forward into the music room. He gestured for Christine to sit on the piano bench left unoccupied by M. Javere.
"Sing for me," Erik said quietly to Christine. Together, they sang the words to Erik's new opera Paisible, while Erik played furiously on the piano. The beautiful melodic lyrics counteracted the seemingly harsh and fast music. When joined, Erik always had the sense of peace, which inspired the name of the song. He glanced at Christine, his fingers finding their own way over the keys. Erik had written this opera with her as the inspiration. She did not know that, but it was partly why this opera was his favorite. It was odd that Christine loved it as well…Erik glanced at M. Javere, who had his eyes closed. With a signal to Christine, he ended the song. Javere opened his eyes.
"Clearly, Sir, you are a genius. I could most definitely feel the peace in your music…and your voices! I know that you have sung before at the Opera Populaire, Madam, but Monsieur Massenet! Your voice is incomparable! If you sang, people all over Paris would be awakened to what true music is. You simply must sing…"
Erik merely shook his head. "I appreciate your kind words, Monsieur, but I am merely a teacher. I use my voice to aid in my compositions. I have no desire to perform on stage." Even as he said those words, his heart hissed out liar. Erik remembered the powerful sensation of coming onto the stage as Don Juan in his ill-fated opera. He had loved the feeling of the crowd watching him, gasping as he sang with such passion as had never been heard before…with the exception of his wife.
Erik swallowed visibly. "I would, however, like to accept your offer to be patron to the arts, if the offer still stands."
"Of course it still stands! I would be a fool not to…will you allow your works to be played at the Opera Populaire?" Javere looked at Erik with a hopeful look. Erik nodded.
"Yes, Monsieur, I would be honored."
At this, Christine jumped from her seat and gave Erik a huge hug and kiss. She was smiling and laughing; Erik had never seen her so happy. He set her down, and she turned to M. Javere.
"If you will excuse me, I will leave you two to work out the details of your business arrangement." Christine left the room in a hurry. The two men stared at her exit in a bit of a shock.
"You're a lucky man, Monsieur Massenet."
"I know…more than I can say." Erik shook himself to stop himself from rushing after Christine…"Monsieur, would you like to discuss this in my office upstairs?"
"All right, Monsieur Massenet. We are all set. All the paperwork has been signed. Would you like to discuss your official duties?" Javere sat in a chair across from Erik.
"I think I have the gist. I fund some of your activities, and in return I get a percentage of the profits. I allow you to perform my works, and I have a say in how it is put on: what singers, orchestra, set design, etc." Erik leaned across the desk and offered Javere a drink. He accepted it.
"You will also need to attend the shows." Erik sputtered into his glass.
"What do you mean? I have to be present for all of them?" Erik looked incredulous. "I'm afraid I can't do that. I would be honored to support your Opera House, but I can't attend the operas."
"And why not, Monsieur? You would like to hear your own works, no?"
Erik gritted his teeth. "I am a private person. I do not like crowds."
"Ah, well, you must learn to make an exception, Monsieur." Javere was pushing Erik, and he did not like it one bit. Erik tried to control his temper.
"Please, Monsieur, let us drop the subject for now."
"Please, if we are now partners of such, I would prefer it if you called me Stefan."
Erik was a little taken aback by his request. He responded automatically. "Then call me Erik, Monsieur."
They idly talked a few minutes more, when Stefan begged his leave. Just as he was heading out the door, Erik stopped him.
"Stefan, before you go, may I ask you a personal question?"
"Of course, Erik. What is it?"
"You have not once asked me about the mask that I wear…why?"
Stefan looked at Erik in a very serious manner. "Sir, it is none of my business; it is yours alone. I do find it a bit odd, but we all have our eccentrics. You have been the proper gentleman during my entire visit; your wife is pleasant and clearly adores you; and your music speaks much about you personally. I have all I need to know." Stefan left the room, leaving Erik feeling quite shocked. He had judged him not on appearance, but on what kind of person he was. This is was definitely new to Erik. He looked up as Christine appeared in the doorway.
"Did you get everything set, love?"
"Yes. But Javere wants me to attend all the galas. I don't know what I'm going to do about that…" Erik motioned for Christine to come to him. He scooped her up and set her on his lap.
"We will have to go then. It will be grand. Just think of it…hearing your operas performed in front of hundreds of people, feeling the outburst of applause at the end of the gala." Christine leaned back against her husband. "And of course, I would be there, singing. For you, and you alone. I know that you can't resist that. Everything will work out, Angel. Just like we hoped."
They sat together a moment, enjoying the closeness of being together. Christine yawned.
"What a day this has been! I'm ready to go to bed. Are you?"
"Yes, something like that." Erik smiled at her mischievously. Together they left the office and headed for their bedroom.
Later that night, Christine was awakened by the all too familiar screaming.