A/N: Thanks for the reviews, guys! They made my day. Apparently you guys like my chapter lengths…so I'll keep it at about the same length. Just as a warning, I'm notorious for finishing up my stories in under 15 chapters or less, so I like to keep things moving fast…
Oh yeah, and thanks for that comment, trisana! I've read far too many fanfictions where Erik falls for the girl in like 2.7 seconds… It'll be a while before we get to that point, I can assure you. Now, on with the story!
Chapter Three
The next morning, Amandine lay in bed for what seemed like hours, staring at the ceiling. Her nose was still tinged with the smell of leather and her ears still rang with the sound of that beautiful voice. She finally let a sigh escape her lips. At last, she had found the man she was looking for… and yet she hadn't even seen his face! Could she even be sure it was real? Maybe she had dreamed the whole thing…Without getting up from the bed, she reached into the drawer of her bedside table and took out her parchment and quill. Furiously, she began jotting down all of yesterday's events, the memories still fresh within her mind. She remembered it all to well for it to have been a dream. The chill that traveled down her spine as she glanced at the huge pane of glass was her confirmation.
XXXXXX
Amandine had thought that her schedule was hectic before, but after being given the starring role, she found herself longing for the way things used to be. The rehearsal hours remained the same, but the style of practicing was not. During every rehearsal, all the attention was put her as she was forced to sing the same arias and scales again and again. Her only moments of rest were when the other stars were put through the same treatment, though theirs' seemed to take much less time. Though she had passed her audition with ease, Amandine found her voice becoming weaker and weaker after each bout of heavy practicing she subjected it to. She tried to smile thorough it and do her best, but she knew in her heart it was doubtful that she would be able to pull it off without a miracle.
Four days after she took Catalina's place, Amandine was finally given a full day off to rest her voice. Since Meg was still expected to attend morning rehearsals, Amandine spent the first half of her day lying on her bed, daydreaming and stealing occasional glances at her mirror. Growing anxious and tired of being alone, she decided to venture from her room and watch the end of rehearsals. She wandered silently towards the backstage area, her soft footsteps the only thing that broke the silence. The hallways were completely void of life and the thought gave Amandine an unpleasant feeling in the pit of her stomach. Quickening her pace, she finally found herself within sight of the stage area. She happily welcomed the sound of a cane striking wood as the ballet mistress scolded one of her dancers. Amandine knew it could not have been Meg; she knew better than to displease her mother.
Within ten minutes, Amandine was greeted with a wide smile from her friend. She hurried forward to assist the girl in removing her uncomfortable shoes. "Enjoying your day off?" Meg asked without looking up. She began undoing the ribbons on her left shoe. "Not really, to be quite honest," Amandine replied with a sigh, "I've been waiting to get a chance to speak to you! We haven't had a proper conversation for days!" The young ballerina smiled as she handed Amandine her first slipper, grateful for the help. "Well, it's been busy lately… for both of us." Meg's eyes traveled towards Amandine's face. "How's your new room? Are you…adjusting well?" her voice was barely above a whisper.
Amandine bent forward and spoke softly. "Actually, Meg, I'd been meaning to talk to you about something…ask a few questions, you know…" Fear and uncertainty flashed across Meg's sapphire eyes. "Is it about…" She let the question hang. Amandine gave her a meaningful look. Before she could say anything, however, a creaking sound from above caused her to look up. Without warning, a large round object plummeted towards the shocked pair of performers. A piercing scream flooded the stage as the two young women stared in horror. A deafening smash pierced the tense silence like a knife. Luckily, the object (which turned out to be one of the suspended gas-lamps) had missed striking Amandine's shoulder by mere inches.
Several stagehands and other performers rushed to the girls' sides. "Are you alright?" Madame Giry was staring at both of them with wide eyes full of worry. Amandine glanced upwards, towards where the lamp once hung. She saw no one. "I'm fine… just shocked, that's all…" With shaking legs, she rose slowly from her crouched position to smooth her skirts. She turned to face Meg, who was still sitting on the ground, frozen in shock. "I'm sure it was just an accident." Amandine flashed her a reassuring smile. "We can talk later, Meg. I need to go lie down for a minute." Feeling many pairs of curious eyes on her, Amandine retreated to her dressing room, to think. Something didn't feel right.
The moment the door to her room opened, she felt an instant chill. Hesitantly closing the door behind her, she took a few steps forward before noticing a small slip of paper propped up on her writing desk. Her hands were quaking as she held the note to the light. The paper fell from her grasp the moment she read its words.
I would advise you to take better notice of
my warnings in the future, Mademoiselle.
Next time, I will be sure not to miss.
XXXXXX
Amandine's fear and worry about the mysterious Opera Ghost's constant surveillance were made apparent during the next day's rehearsal. Her eyes were almost constantly darting toward the rafters, searching for any signs of movement. On a few occasions, she had thrown everyone off-course by starting or gasping at the movement of a stagehand or swaying curtain. Though she blamed her anxiety on the previous day's 'accident', she was sure by the look on Meg's bright young face that not everyone believed her lie.
Though Amandine could not see him, she could feel his eyes on her at all times. This 'Phantom' was truly an omnipresent being, always watching and waiting…the mere thought made her blood run cold. The added stress of her personal stalker combined with her lack of confidence led to a few near-panic attacks. Now she was certain. "Hannibal" would be performed in little over a week, and she was certainly not ready. There was no way she could pull this off…without resorting to desperate measures. The very idea gave her a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach, as if she were about to vomit…and yet she knew what must be done.
As she headed back to her room that night, the idea no longer seemed as frightful as it had earlier that day. In truth, both her performance and her book depended on it. With her stomach still twisting itself into knots, Amandine waited for several hours, until she was certain that the majority of her fellow performers had fallen asleep. After checking the hall for signs of life, she once again closed the door quietly and approached the large mirror with confidence.
Breathing deeply, she lifted her fist and rapped lightly on the smooth surface. She stood there, breathless, for several minutes, but heard nothing. With a sigh of frustration, she began searching the edges of the mirror for whatever secret mechanism it had been opened with, but her efforts were fruitless. Amandine finally let out an exasperated groan before banging her fists angrily against the glass, shouting for the strange masked man. "I know you're there! Come out right now! I need to speak with you!" Once again, she received no reply. She had to find some way to contact him! Her fists kneaded into her forehead as she strode away from the mirror, pacing back and forth.
She was so caught-up in her frustration that she failed to notice a familiar clicking sound from behind her. Without warning, she was seized from behind once again, her startled gasp muffled by the same leather-clad hand. The same entrancing voice hissed sharply in her ear.
"Were you trying to wake the entire city of Paris, mademoiselle? I would be quite surprised if you had not." He paused as she shook her head slowly, trying to speak against his glove. "You indicated that you wished to speak with me… do make it quick, my dear. I was rather busy when you called."
Slowly he removed his hand from her now-dry lips, but kept a firm grasp on her waist and shoulders. Amandine tried to relax her body, but found herself unable to do so. She could feel his every muscle behind her…smell the leather of his gloves…hear the soft rhythm of his breathing. It was too much for her to take. Her eyes closed and she allowed herself a deep sigh before finding her voice.
I need…your help." She said it in barely a whisper and was unsure of whether or not he had heard her. His soft chuckle of amusement told her he had. "And why, may I ask, would you desire the assistance of the Opera Ghost? Surely you know my past… or have learned it yourself through your insolent prying." The last few words were spit out angrily. Amandine knew it was not wise to anger this man. "I know it well, monsieur." She licked her cracked lips before continuing. "But I know that you are the only one who can teach me. My voice…I'm not ready to perform. I need someone to train me…someone who can work wonders…someone who can make me sing like…like…her." Amandine regretted those words the moment they left her lips.
His right hand was instantly wrapped around her slender neck, squeezing with a vice-grip. "I thought I warned you not to bring back the past, mademoiselle. You undoubtedly know what I'm capable of, but I've always promised myself never to kill a woman…though I've been considering revising that rule as of late…" Amandine's breath was quickly leaving her lungs as his grip became tighter, certainly bruising her tender skin. Desperate for a way to save herself, she kicked out behind her, finding her foot in contact with his knee.
To her great relief, he stumbled backwards, releasing her. Amandine rushed towards the door before turning back, staring at the man who had just made an attempt on her life. He stood before her, panting slightly and staring at her with both anger and amusement in his golden eyes. He was quite tall, certainly over six feet, with long slender legs and strong masculine arms. He was dressed impeccably in beautiful, rich evening-attire. The clothes were filled out quite nicely by his muscular frame. His mask gleamed in the low candlelight and his visible features were formed in a slight smirk. The left side of his face was truly a beautiful sight to behold. Though the room was somewhat dim, she could see his strong jaw line and perfectly sculpted nose…but it was the amazing passion in his eyes which pulled her right in. For a moment, Amandine completely forgot that she was staring at the Phantom of the Opera…a man who had killed many…and almost did the same to her!
When he began approaching her again, she remembered what had just occurred. "I'll scream," she said with confidence. "They'll come running…and they'll find you…kill me, if you want… even if I don't scream, they'll still know…" He had stopped moving. It was all she could do to suppress a grin as a flicker of fear flashed across his face. "You don't think they know whose room this used to be?" "YOU IDIOT!" she inwardly cringed at mentioning Christine again…but his reaction was not the same as last time.
The Phantom stood in the same spot, still staring with the same look of amusement and rage. He did not speak, as if expecting her to continue. She did. "Here's my proposition. You teach me how to sing, and I won't tell anyone I know you're still here." She paused, looking for a reaction. He remained motionless while she went on. "I'm aware what could happen if I'm alone with you, but I'm willing to take the chance. You know as well as I that the death or disappearance of another chorus girl would be highly suspicious." She decided to stop there and give him a chance to speak. It was a few moments before he did.
"I underestimated your cleverness, my dear… I must say, I'm impressed. It would be quite easy to simply snap your neck where you're standing…yet I daresay your suspicions may be correct…" He stopped speaking. Amandine's heart raced as she waited for his answer. The Opera Ghost finally lifted his eyes to meet hers. "I suppose I don't have much of a choice in the matter, do I? Though if you keep poking your nose into my affairs, I just may be forced to take your life after all."
A sense of both relief and dread seemed to hit Amandine all at once. She was finally getting her chance…to be a great singer…and to learn all she could about this masked man. "So…it's settled then? Meet me here, tomorrow night…the same time…?" she ended her sentence as a question, awaiting his approval. "Don't sound so anxious, my dear." He smirked, "I assure you, this will not be easy…or pleasurable…for either of us." And suddenly, without another word or backward glance, he retreated into the still-open mirror and closed it with yet another soft click.
As she sat on her bed and began blowing out candles, a shockwave shot through Amandine's body, as if she had just realized the deal which had been struck. Her heart beat a violent tattoo in her chest... a combination of her anxiety, her fear…and, dare she say it?...the thrill of being so close to that dangerous, seductive man… Whatever happened, one thing was certain: Her life would never be the same. Amandine threw her head back into her pillows and stared up at the ceiling. "What am I getting myself into…?"
A/N: Liked it? I hope so! I know I'm moving KINDA fast, but there's still LOTS to come! Please review! Thanks so much!
-Amanda