You guys are so sweet! I'm happy you like my story. The weirdness continues with chapter four. Voila!
Ch. 4 Dinner and Danger
When Chris entered the practice studio the next morning, all the girls went silent. Meg scurried to his side, pulling him to the side. " Chris!" she cried in a low voice, " They found out. It wasn't my fault! They heard Her. I promise, I wasn't me!" She seemed to barely contain her hysteria. Chris comforted her. " What are you talking about?" Although he wore a blank expression, his eyes spelled fear. They had heard Her. This was definitely not good.
Meg gasped her explanation, explaining her insomnia and finding the passage. Chris did his best to maintain his poker face. " Meg, I'm sure you were just dreaming." Was his explanation. " I told you about the angel, didn't I?" Meg straightened, fear now rampant in her eyes. She rapidly shook her head. " She is a guardian angel, sent from heaven to protect me after my parents abandoned me. It was she that taught me to sing!" Chris adopted a dreamy expression, his gaze drifting from Meg to the rafters.
Meg took his hand tightly in hers. " Are you feeling alright?" She tried hard to look him square in the eye, as to determine what the hell his problem was. Madame Giry then came over, banging her cane against the wall directly next to Chris's head. " Enough prattle!" She muttered. She pointed to the dance floor wither cane. The two friends leaped onto the floor like deer, but not after each receiving a whack on the bottom from Madame Giry.
After practice, Meg stayed behind to speak with her mother. Chris went ahead, joking loudly with his fellow male dancers. Halfway back to the dormitories, Riley stepped in front of the group. She looked even more stunning than the night of the Gala. She had pulled back her golden hair into a loose bun, her shoulders set off by a low-cut sapphire hued dress. Chris's friends were a bit shocked at her presence, all of them silent with embarrassment. Chris suddenly felt a lot more self-conscious in his practice uniform.
" Hello, Chris!" She said brightly, smiling her million-watt smile. Chris smiled back. "Hello, Riley." Both held their gaze until Rile motioned for the exit. "D-did you want to go to supper?" Her cheeks now held a pinkish tinge. Chris nodded, but with one glance at his attire, she added:
"You will want to change first though, no?" Chris nodded dumbly, hurrying off to get off those god-forsaken tights.
Erika sat restlessly at her organ, scribbling away at a scrap of paper. She frequently had stupendous ideas for her music that came at odd times. This burst of musical genius had come while dressing to haunt.
She gazed in the mirror, stroking her scarred complexion. The girl shied away from her reflection. An evil laugh rang in her mind. Sadly, she recognized this cackle as her mother's. Without another moment, she jammed on her mask, fixed her hair back into an attractive bun, and fitted her cape around her neck. On her way to the door, she picked up a sword and stowed the hilt in the belt of her breeches. She knew that Parisian women of the time frame did not usually carry swords, but she also knew that they didn't wear breeches, frightening masks, or men's evening wear. It was her philosophy that in order to be outrageous, you must disregard the mindless, sexist rules of society. Erika was, in a sense, an early feminist.
Plucking a red rose from a vase nearby, she tucked the flower into her breast pocket. The mirror was now a bit kinder, displaying a lovely girl with beautiful black eyes and shining black hair. The mask was simply an extra, a concealer if you please.
With a swish of her cape and a low, dark chuckle, she was off to find Chris.
Although Chris was an old, treasured friend, Riley was still a bit edgy. They were currently sitting in the café opposite the opera house, enjoying a hot, delicious meal. Chris nervously straightened his collar, disregarding the frigid temperatures. The conversation was swift and enjoyable, both individuals possessing an impressive array of knowledge. A stout chef pranced to their table, carrying a large pot of some steaming juxtaposing concoction. When the man had pranced back to the kitchen, Riley and Chris stared at what had been brought. It stared back. Then they both laughed thunderously at the jest. The chef looked confused. Locking eyes, they stopped laughing. Silently, they choked down the horrible mix, tears welling in their eyes, partly from disgust, partly from humor.
Erika lounged lazily behind her painting, fingering a coin vigorously. She had been waiting for over two hours for Chris. He was usually always punctual, most of the time coming early for his lesson. But now, he was absent. Behind her cool, bored exterior, Erika stewed with worry.
Perhaps Chris had been hurt? Ill? Perhaps he was in some sort of trouble? Erika ran her tan fingers through her hair. She threw the coin away, her brow furrowing. He was with that Riley fool. Abruptly, she stood up, preparing to return to her lair, when the door opened. She rushed back to her post, pressing her ear against the back surface of the painting. She heard Chris laugh, and then drop his cloak. " I'll see you later. I had a splendid time." Erika's spine froze, her dark eyes narrowing behind her mask. " Goodbye. I will see you in the morning." A soft female voice cut through her happiness. She heard the door shut quietly. A watching hole was then utilized. Chris lay on the bench, a large, obtuse grin on his face. Erika fell a hot surge of anger pierce her thoughts. Controlling the rage in her voice, she sang as softly and sweetly as possible:
Boy of my mindMy friend and pupil,
Why do you forsake me?
Chris, my dear
Told a falsehood have you
Why do you fail to see?
At this, Chris stood up, his gaze darting all around the room. Erika smiled peevishly at his bewildered expression. He gulped loudly, answering:
Angel of mineMy friend, my phantom
Find the strength, the love, the mind to forgive
My mind was weak
Bent like a rotten weed
Thoughts shot like an egg put through a sieve
This girl, this person
Still means nothing
Merely A treasured family friend
I will admit
She is a good companion
But our secrets together should not end
Erika softened at this. Ha. Even the feared Phantom of the Opera could not hold a grudge against those doleful blue eyes of his. Singing sweetly in Swedish ha! tongue twister, she once again possessed his will, luring him back underground with the girl who adored him. Passing a mirror with the mesmerized Chris behind her, she smirked. Riley couldn't hold a candle to an attractive specter such as myself, she thought with a pleasing note of conceit. Before sealing the passage, she tossed the red rose over her shoulder carelessly, placed for any foolish girl who would come looking for his after hours.
