Chapter Nine: Vehemence
Failure floated on the air. It swirled about me like a never-ending vortex. There was no escape from myself, and no escape from Erik. I could not believe I had let it go on this long. It was clear to me that Monsieur Erik had far too much experience in the ways of stalking and trapping. There was no easy way out of my situation, no matter how hard I tried. On the one hand, I had a show to do, which was an obligation in itself. In addition to this, I had to deal with my private lessons, James's constant nagging, the watchful eyes of Madame Giry, and this looming fate that I was somehow always wrong. I was losing control, and I didn't like it.
It was late in the night by now. Dawn would break in a few more hours. I should have been sound asleep in my bed by now. I couldn't sleep, however. I was haunted by thoughts of Erik. I was haunted by everything he had said and done to me tonight. The way he touched me was detestably sensual, and I hated him for the way he made me feel. He knew every curve as if I was his, yet he could not seem to make up his mind as to the method of 'handling me.' Sometimes, he was gentle and careful. Other times, he was roguish and harsh—careless of twisting my limbs or bruising my flesh. I knew I did not help my situation, but I was confused.
Deep down inside, I harbored a growing respect for Erik. Each night seemed to reveal more of his genius to me. Yet every time a secret quality was revealed, another fault was discovered. He was impatient, jealous, and violent. He had a short temper, as did I. That must have explained our frequent sparring. He was ruthless. Sometimes he could be colder than ice, yet sometimes within him burned the flames of hell itself. He seemed to be neither human nor beast, yet sometimes I would see qualities of both creatures. He wasn't easily understood.
When I closed my eyes, I could almost hear his voice or feel his long fingers sliding over my shoulder. In my mind, he was telling me I was beautiful—that I was perfect. Then I would open my eyes and wonder at such fantasies. Did I no longer maintain control over my dreams? I used to have magnificent visions of great things. I could create glorious operas in my head and I would play them over and over again, pretending that I was a great composer and singer. Now I dreamt of Erik's leering face or musical voice, commanding but guiding me, all the same, toward greatness. It was ill and unfair. He had dared to invade my thoughts, my life, and my goals…he had dared.
Perhaps that was what was so intriguing about him. He dared, where other men would have declared me a shrew and left me to become an old maid. He did not try to tame me, as some men might have tried, but rather, take control as if he felt I had fallen into a frenzied rampage of sorts. He was not afraid of me in the least, but scoffed at my efforts to scare people away. He respected me—even found amusement in my ways at times. Yet I threw that all away and betrayed him to my own selfishness. Was this entire thing my fault? Had I been stupid in pursuing the wild dream of the theater?
I hated him. I was almost certain I hated him. I had to! He was invasive. He made me feel worthless, and yet at times, he made me feel as if I was the only thing in the world. His concentration on me was unsettling, and his vigor was disturbing. My eyes were closed. But I could see him clearly in my mind. It was as if he was with me everywhere, both haunting my steps and shedding infinite glory upon me. What sort of feeling was this? I'd spent so long in my own solitude that the thoughts of other people almost ceased to exist to me. I wasn't selfish—I was ignorant. I could still feel his lips closed around mine—tender, passionate, empowering, promising… the way he seduced my mind was hate-worthy. He made me feel weak and inferior. Yet somehow, I still felt like a goddess in his presence.
My eyes opened. I could not know sleep tonight. My feet slid out from under the covers and landed on the floor, leading me to the desk. I searched through the letters there, before pulling out one. "On the contrary, I think you are a most admirable lady… temperamental at times, even downright inane and aggravating…but admirable, coupled with a unique spark. You are unlike any other, and for that reason alone do I believe you will be successful," I read. I kept repeating the statements in my mind. What did that mean? Did it mean he would torment me for all eternity until I reached the level he wanted me at? Did it mean that one day he would grow bored with teaching and desert me, staying behind to watch with respect as I ascended to greatness? The whole thing was trivial.
I sighed, putting the letter aside and folded my arms on the desk, placing my forehead on my folded hands. What now? I had determined that this would end. But how could I make it end? It was an endless nightmare! I shivered in a sudden draft and felt tears stinging at my eyes. I couldn't sleep. I had to take a walk. Perhaps I could tire myself out enough to catch a bit of sleep.
I rose from the desk and shuffled across the floor, opening my door carefully. I checked outside for any signs of life before making my way down the stairs. All seemed to be silent in the Opera House, as it should have been at this hour. I let my feet lead me along until I reached the theater, where I could hear the distinct hum of a human voice beyond the doors. Curious, and slightly disturbed, I pressed my ear to the door, only to realize that someone was in there singing. It was most definitely male, but I did not recognize the voice from rehearsals.
I opened the door quietly and entered the dark theater. There were two candles lit onstage. Everything else was dark as night itself. I was drawn towards the stage by the haunting voice. I did not recognize it, yet it was so familiar. I hesitated, closing my eyes to the sound. Whoever it was sounded like an angel. The sound of his sturdy voice was empowering and sensual—no doubt built to seduce. But there was only one person I could think of that it could possibly be, and my mind dared not utter his name.
He sang of darkness and a deep sorrow. He sang of a love he could not know and a woman described as a goddess or nymph. She might have been a fairy queen. But whatever she was, his voice made her sound magnificent. I stepped again, and my own feet betrayed me. His beautiful voice ceased and I stood there blinking, still enraptured and almost oblivious.
"What are you doing up?" He asked quietly. I shook my head and the words caught in my throat. He waited with a patience I didn't know existed. I wasn't sure how he would feel about talking to me after our little go-round down in his lair.
"I couldn't sleep," I answered, straining my eyes to look around the shadows. I could not tell from where his voice derived.
"Did you think you would find answers in the theater?" He asked. His tone was indifferent. It tore my heart apart, and I felt sick inside. I could not understand this. His question lingered on the air. I could feel the tears from earlier making their way down my cheeks for some unknown reason. My soul felt weak. I felt so controlled and used. I felt helpless.
"I don't know what I expected to find." The words came out so soft they could have been a whisper. There was a lingering silence before Erik sighed.
"What troubles you, my dear?" He asked, moving from the shadows of the stage and approaching me. His shadow loomed over me for a moment before he leapt from the stage and stood a few feet from me. I found myself instinctively backing away a step before gulping. I turned my back and breathed a ragged sigh.
"I don't know, Erik," I responded. I could feel a ball of pain crushing my insides. I wanted so badly to break down and cry. I honestly needed a good cry, but I refused to allow myself to appear so weak in his presence. "Your voice is beautiful," I whispered, changing the subject. He was silent, but I heard him step closer. His hand hovered above my shoulder. My shoulder seemed to be reaching for his touch but I wanted so badly to just walk away. His fingers curved over my shoulder and he stepped up to me.
"I cannot offer you comfort, Faye," he said in a dark voice, "I have known nothing but suffering for all of my life." I jerked away abruptly, shuddering in the aftermath of his touch.
"I don't come to you for comfort. I wish to be free," I stated, trying to be cold but feeling my heart break with the thought of being away from him. "I can't live my life in your shadow. I need sunlight to grow," I explained.
"You can never be free," he breathed, moving in and closing an arm around my shoulders. I shivered and pushed him away, frustrated and helpless to run. He was silent then, just observing me. Inside, my emotions raged like a stormy sea. I was tormented—battered to the near point of submission. But I refused to give into his words. He wasn't some haunting spirit that could follow me to the ends of the earth! He was nothing but a rejected man, forced into the lifestyle he now lived. If I could flee Paris, I could escape him.
"You lie!" I admonished, "I am free! Free to go and do whatever I like! The only thing stopping me is your threat of death. That is a worthless threat in itself, Erik! What makes you think I place any value on my life?" I glared through the darkness. I couldn't see his face, but I could sense the anger rising in him. I knew I was pressing another argument, and it's the last thing I felt able to deal with now. But I wouldn't back down.
"You fight for it like a rat in a corner!" He hissed, "You don't even know what you're talking about, Faye! You are not clever enough to fool me with these false statements!" I heard his voice moving as he circled around to my face, where his breath came in warning breezes.
"False statements!" Tears of anger burned without mercy in my eyes. "Are you insinuating that I am foolish?"
"Foolish! Stupid! Moronic! Any of these words will do, Faye," he answered in a cold voice, "Pitiful, like a newborn kitten without its mother!" The words seemed to drill into my skin, poisoning me inside and out. I felt sick again.
"I despise you!" I spat in defense, clenching my fists.
"Do you?" His voice contained an ounce of intrigue. I turned away from his presence and walked the opposite way. He blocked my path so suddenly that I nearly fell over. His arm shot out across my collarbone. "The way you seem to have a need of repeating it, suggests otherwise…" I stopped, catching my breath. "And the way you kissed me…would suggest otherwise," he mused in a whisper. I was taken aback by the comment.
"It was you who kissed me!" I snapped, "And a kiss means nothing!" It was a very bad attempt at turning the situation on him. The defense seemed to wash right over him.
"You returned the favor, Faye—willingly, might I add," he said. I could tell he was in a chipper mood this evening, or rather, early morning. I was not prepared to play him in this little game.
"You're dreaming this up!" I denied. "It's a silly little fantasy of yours!" He laughed a little.
"You waste my time," he admitted, "And you're damn exhausting."
"I'm glad!" I replied with an air of defiance, shoving at his arm and coming free of his grasp. I shuddered to myself at the thought of him touching me again. Lately I'd been feeling like I liked it, and inside I hated myself more and more.
"Well, good. And since you are having so much trouble obtaining sleep, we might as well get in another lesson," he suggested. I felt his arm slide around my shoulders, his cape enclosing my form and drawing me near to him. He led me towards the stage in one liquid movement, and for a moment, the candles on the stage seemed to float. I blinked, chills running along my limbs as he strode down the aisle with a graceful poise. Why did he have this effect on me? I suddenly began to feel dazed and weak, faltering somewhere in the midst of his grand cloak. My eyes fluttered shut, trying to escape. I gulped and took a deep, rasping breath. Finally, I shuddered and he ceased walking, his cloak rushing past me for a minute before settling smoothly around us. I dared to open my eyes and look up at him. The imploring expression on his face made me want to jump off of a bridge into the Seine. "And you said I was lying…" He stated in a low voice, a devious smirk beginning to tug at the corners of his stern mouth. I shivered nervously, my resolution breaking slowly. His fingers closed around the curve of my shoulder possessively, suddenly drawing me into a firm embrace. I gasped in fearful shock, going tense in his hold.
He threw me from him then, his voice snapping like tumultuous thunder. "What did you think you would find in me?" He flew to the stage in angered grace, "I told you what you'd find, Faye! I told you!" The warning tone in his voice reprimanded me for the thoughts I hadn't dared to voice. I shuddered again, and attempted to shake off my temporary paralysis, picking myself up from the floor.
"You assume much," I stated faintly, a quiver resounding on my voice. If only I could walk away…
"I assume nothing. I speak only of what I know," he replied, hiding himself in the shadows of the stage wings. "Though what I know has been made quite evident to me…you deny the very thing that keeps you alive." His voice was faint and I paused, taking time to decipher the meaning of his words.
"Don't give yourself too much credit," I finally snapped, my eyes flashing at the shadows.
"Credit!" He laughed, "The credit is all yours, mademoiselle. You have a way of over-clarifying things with your drama."
"Drama indeed!"
"And it's obvious that you are making a point to ignore the signs," he continued. His voice was shifting. I saw his shadow fall across the candles, but I couldn't tell where he'd gone to now.
"—signs?" My eyes went wide in surprise before narrowing in anger. "Monsieur, you are treading in deep water!"
"At least I'm still wading. You are in over your head!" He accused. His voice seemed to come from all directions now, and I looked around.
"Like you could tell!" I cried in defiance, "You've been drowning for centuries!" I heard the terrifying snap of his lasso. I went down again as my waist was cinched in an even line. I hit the floor and was dragged towards the stage again, screeching as he yanked me along. He abruptly pulled me up on the rope, much like a puppet, except about the waist. I felt the rope digging into my abdomen and pain shot through me. Tears burned my eyes as his anger pooled around us again. He pulled my back to his chest with a low growl, his lips brushing against my ear as he uttered in a low voice.
"You wouldn't understand me even if you could see the world of the opera through my eyes, Miss Lavonne." The statement was cold and void of life. I caught my breath, squeezing my eyes shut. This was horrible. It had to be a nightmare. Where had I gone wrong? I had heard his sweet voice and it had driven me mad inside—mad with the need of him and mad with the need to escape him. I should have stayed in bed. I should have just lain there like a log. Grief was slipping into his voice; a heart-breaking disdain that raked me inside and out. "You wouldn't understand…" He whispered hoarsely. I felt myself crying with the weight of the situation. I longed for release, and I longed for him to be gentle once more. I just wanted to see that emotion dance in his eyes again. Maybe then, I could be rid of these foolish thoughts that corrupted my every waking moment and destroyed the strong woman I was.
He dropped me, releasing the rope and coiling it. I heard the whisper of a sob on his lips, but he turned away again. "Why do you do this, Faye?" He asked in a soft voice. I just cried, curling into myself. I didn't want to fight anymore. I just wanted to go home—home to Provence. The thought was striking me as wonderful and relieving. I could have been forced to dwell on the streets, and I would have been happy with it. "Why?" His voice was more insistent now. He had turned and was looking down at me again in anger.
"Erik, I'm sorry…" I whispered through my tears, "I thought I wanted to know you."
"Me?" The word was short and contained a bit of surprise, but relief at the same time. "You want to know a man who does not exist to the world?" I nodded in response and tried to sit up, but fell over again in my distress. I cried harder when I heard him approaching. I was certain he was going to hurt me again. I felt his soft cape fall across me like a shadow, his fingers slipping under my shoulders to lift me into his embrace. I didn't want it, but I did want it. It was too weak to resist it now.
"I want to know the man who sings like an angel, and speaks of the night as though it were his friend…" I whispered, opening my eyes to look at him. There was a kind of compassion in his eyes that I'd never seen before, and he wiped the tears from mine, breathing a ragged sigh. The candle light bounced off of his smooth form, illuminating him in his angel-like position.
"Faye…I have befriended the night by need alone," he answered. His eyes dropped, their gaze falling to the floor. I watched him, tears still threatening at the corners of my eyes. "Faye, you are beautiful…all I ever wished to know was beauty…tormented beauty…" The words were soft as a lullaby. For this one moment, I dropped the harsh person I had become and listened to him. For once, I was selfless. "Do you see… the only way I could know beauty was to take…"
"I do not understand the monstrosity from which you hide," I said, shaking my head, "I have never seen beyond the mask." He shook his head, tears building in his eyes. "Erik, let me see…" I whispered, "Let me see what you fear…maybe then, I would understand."
"No, Faye. To let you see would destroy me inside," he answered.
"Erik…" I tried to reason, but he shook his head. The tears were falling from his eyes now. It broke my heart to see him like that again. Some sick part of me wanted to share in his pain, and defeat it. Another part of me reveled in it, as though he somehow deserved it. Inside, I knew he didn't deserve it. He had never had to do anything to hurt another until others started hurting him. His demise was not of his doing. It was out of his hands, out of his control…out of human understanding and thought.
I was no different from the rest of the world now. I was curious and greedy. Nothing could stop me from what I was about to do, yet I knew it would somehow forever change my life. I kissed him gently, and felt a violent passion flood me. A murmur escaped his throat as his hands slipped around my waist, drawing me to him. Human instinct could not be controlled, I reminded myself. He was as curious and greedy as I, but in a different respect. My fingers slid deftly up and over his shoulders and neck, tracing his jaw and worshipping his skin. A contented and uncertain sigh left him before his need for power kicked in.
He pushed, gently at first, until I started leaning backwards, lips insistently pressing at mine. I gasped, having realized I had almost lost it. I righted the situation and kept us up. This would not work properly if I were to fall beneath him. I could feel the edge of his mask now. One quick motion and I would see. Finally, I would see! I began to peel the mask off, but I was not quick enough. He seized my hands and pushed me under him, pinning me carefully with his weight and maintaining the kiss. I struggled, finally, but only managed to get his lips to move down along my throat. The sensation was unbearable to me. It drove me completely wild. I had to get myself out of this now.
"Erik!" I whispered breathlessly. His teeth closed around my collarbone, fingers tightening around my wrists. I emitted a throaty gasp; suddenly lurching underneath him because of the strange feeling he had just awoken in me. "No, no!" I cried helplessly, wringing my wrists. He slid over me skillfully, lips moving up to my ear where he began to sing softly. It was my undoing. I felt that I would be lost forever after this moment.
"She dreamt of every star falling from the sky above," he sang, "She denied every thing she feared—to be afraid, to be in love." My eyes slid shut in the glorious release of it all. Inside, I was screaming. My heart was pounding so loudly that it drowned out every other sound in the world. I took raspy breaths as though I were drowning. My mind slowly began to regain control of me. Run, Faye! It commanded, Get up and run! How was I to accomplish such a feat? Could I even bear the thought of hurting him anymore? After all I'd done, and all we'd been through? Yes. I had to. There was no other way!
I flicked my wrists against his steady hands, forcing him up and off of me. He went reeling to the side, caught completely off-guard. I gasped for air, lying still for a moment. He didn't move. He simply looked across the darkness at my heaving form, a desirous glow burning away from him and leaving cold eyes to look down on me. All was still for the moment, but I couldn't allow him time to recompose himself. My purpose had been completely defeated.
"Why?" He whispered hoarsely, "Why do you do this, Faye?" Tears of a passionate self-hate welled up in my eyes. I wanted nothing more than to die, and never exist again. I had allowed myself to become the very definition of arrogance. There couldn't have been any turning back after this. Erik was shuddering now. He drew his cape close about him and glared. Inside, my mind was begging me to get a hold of myself. Why was I having so much difficulty with it?
It was late. I shouldn't have been here. I didn't want to be here. So why was I? Shaking, I rose to my feet, leaning on the nearest row of seats for support. I trembled. I knew I was a complete mess, but I had to get out of here. I straightened myself out, turning away from him.
"Where do you think you're going?" Erik asked. I heard him get up in turn, and brush himself off. "Do you think you can just escape this by going to your room?" I turned my head to look at him. He was backlit by the diminishing candlelight onstage.
"No, Erik," I stated quietly, "I'm not running anymore." He paused. I knew it wouldn't take long for the true meaning of that statement to sink in. He clenched his fists at his side, drawing his head up high. I shook my head at him and turned, walking up the aisle away from him. My room seemed to be calling me like a siren at this point, and I was more-than-willing to obey. I closed my eyes one last time before I reached the door. All I could see was that one moment where I had seen compassion in his eyes. I blinked back the tears and shook off my shoulders. The numbness from earlier was leaving me now.
"Fear can turn to love!" He called after me in a near desperate tone. I heard his voice crack at the end and knew that I'd broken him again. "You'll see, Faye!" He whispered loudly, "Faye!" I heard him falling to his knees. He sobbed quietly in the darkness behind me. But I was cold now. My mind had won again. My heart must have bled dry now. I was so sick of everything I'd come into. I knew I was just internalizing everything, but he would never have to know that. Only then might I buy my freedom back.
A/N: Yeah, I know I took forever. Life is crazy. For those of you that I talk to on a regular basis, this would be the chapter with mentioned, ahem, EXTENSIONS. Anyway, I hope you like this chapter. It was a tough one.