"Erik, I…How…" I stammered, unable to speak.
"At a loss for words are we? Now what an irony that is, mademoiselle," He leaned back from my face, a look of pure contentment crossed His eyes, now bright and vivid with His sardonic triumph over me.
I turned toward Him, the shame and embarrassment written clearly on my expression. I had done careless and stupid things before, numerous times, too many to count! But this was different. He now held all the knowledge that was capable of ruining me. Destroying my career here at L'Opera was inevitable, for I had pushed the Opera Ghost one too many times. I stood on the edge, with a full view of the chasm that descended into oblivion, and I knew now that my misguided trust would fail me. Erik was to push me over.
"Do not look so surprised! Even before you had decided to divulge your story to me, I knew. Gossip is one of the most treasured pastimes of the corps here. As I said before, Alessandra, I know everything that happens in my opera house."
I felt so helpless, so completely powerless. I wanted to throw away my aggravating pride and grovel at His feet. I wanted to beg Him not to share my secret with anyone else, to tell no one of what He knew.
Oh! The irony!
How could I ask Him to keep my secret when it was I who carelessly let His slip out? My father used to scold me for thoughtlessly plucking flowers from their stems when I was a child. He would always tell me, "Whatever you put forth will eventually come back to haunt you, Alessandra. Remember, everything in life must, and always will, come full circle." How true it was!
"I know of your past," Erik continued, " I know of your previous career, if you could call it that. I know what those men thought of you, how they looked at you. What they imagined doing with you." His eyes glinted with malevolent delight.
His words sounded so sinister, so entirely wicked. He had been cruel before, but now He was a completely different man, a completely different monster.
He outstretched a hand to caress my face, impulsively I slapped it away. My hand struck His wrist with a resounding crack, and I glared at Him. I would not allow Him to degrade me for something I had no control over, something that fate had chosen for me. It was as if it was my anomalous destiny to become a courtesan, and we both knew what a pitiless mistress fate could be.
He stared a moment at His hand, and then gazed at me, curiosity swimming in those vibrant eyes. I knew that so much as touching Erik without His permission was a terrible crime, but striking Him was surely punishable by death. It seems I would now get what I wished for. I braced myself for impact, steadying myself on my feet, but never averting my eyes from His.
"Is that any way to treat a willing customer? Oh! Forgive me! Surely you must require a fee!" Erik threw His hands up in the air and stormed away from the table. Feverishly pacing over to the desk that sat next to the organ, He began rifling through a drawer. It's contents of staff paper spilled out over the edge in His haste.
"I don't want your money," I spat, still clinging to the table top for support.
He stilled. Leisurely he turned around, striding in His effortlessly calculated steps ever closer to me. The sickeningly jovial madness that consumed Him before had disappeared. I feared what emotion had taken its place.
"And why not?" He demanded, gritting His teeth at me.
I said nothing. Anything I would say now would only further condemn me, silence was my best offer.
"Is my face not appealing enough for you? Do you not find me handsome?" A gut-wrenching, twisted laugh exploded from His lungs. "Why will you not accept my business? I am just like every other man!"
"No you are not!" I screeched, stunned at my own reaction. I looked to Erik, who immediately ceased the maniacal laughter, and slid His eyes closed. His lips pressed together tightly, the pain evident.
Softer, more gently, I added, "No Erik, you are not like all the other men. You are different."
I swallowed my fear and carefully extended my hand to linger on His shoulder. So softly, so gently, I moved it up and down, caressing and comforting the tense muscle. His eyes opened and He looked to me disgracefully, confused and yet delighted. Shameful, like a stolen pleasure was my touch.
He shuddered, but it did not deter me from breaking contact with Erik. Determined to reveal the truth, I forced my eyes on His, their russet depths swimming with tacit secrets waiting to rise from the pits of my heart.
He knew. The revelation was terrifying and completely embarrassing. And yet, somehow I felt relief. I felt comfort in knowing that my sniveling, desperate attempts for contact had not been in vain. As foolish and unwise as my disclosure had been to confess to the mirror, it felt like a barrier, a wall had been torn down between us. He now knew of my vulgar past, and for that, I was grateful that the heavy weight which I had been carrying on my shoulders for so long was, at last, lifted.
We seemed to stand like that for a long time, my hand long since given up on its tender touches, and hung limp, supported by Erik's broad shoulder. He had not spoken a word to me since His outburst of rage. As I thought about what He had said to me, a thought crept its way out from the back of my mind. He had remarked, raved about the horrors of His face, and though I had yet to see it, I knew that no matter what lie under that mask, it would not sway my opinion of Erik one way, or another.
Many people were horrified by the grotesque deformation of His face, well 'many' would be an understatement. All persons that had actually seen Him, were absolutely repulsed. Even Christine, who had supposedly loved Him so, could ultimately not look past that macabre face. Or so Charlotte had told me.
How could I tell Him? How could I make Him understand? Beauty, beautiful things had surrounded me all my life. Beautiful couture, beautiful jewels, beautiful men… And yet, with all the splendor and dazzle of these things, they only made me feel emptier, colder inside. I did not care much for appearances, in fact, I absolutely despised the notion of what was considered attractive or in fashion. For the exterior of something is just that, an exterior. A shell, a cover, a mask. Inside, yes inside, was where the true horrors lie, the true deformities. And also, the true beauty.
"Erik?" I squeaked, my voice growing steady and unsure.
He looked up at me, and convinced that I had received His attention, pressed forth.
"Erik, I need to tell you something. I want you to know something," I began. Inhaling a deep, reassuring breath I continued, "It does not matter, you know. None of it matters to me…"
He peered at me, bewildered and perplexed. Taking a step back from me, I could see that I had to reveal myself quickly, already He was melting back His arrogant, detached self.
I sighed, this was not coming out right.
"What I mean to say is, that your appearance has no bias for me. Erik, I do not care what lies under that mask of yours."
"How can you say that, when you have yet to see it!" He snarled, but somehow, miraculously was able to keep His temper in check. I made sure there was ample distance between our bodies before I continued.
"All my life, beauty has brought me nothing but pain, Erik. Nothing but ugliness," my own eyes were growing teary and wistful as I reflected upon my past. As tragic as it was, I knew that it paled terribly in comparison with the hardships in which Erik had to face. I only hoped that He would accept my offering of empathy, our shared sympathy.
"What would you know about ugliness? What would you, une beauté parfaite, like yourself ever understand about the unattractive, the truly repulsive?" He turned and strode away from me, now darting back and forth across the floor, His boots clicking harshly against the stone.
"Please, let me finish! At least let me explain!" I wanted Him to know, I wanted to make Him understand. He granted me my request and stilled, arms folded behind His back, He remained a gentleman. But His eyes deceived them, and they came alive with fiery emotion.
Inhaling deeply, I closed my eyes and began to tell my story.