"Masquerade!
Hide your face
So the world will never find you . . ." –Masquerade
Chapter 18: A Face Will Still Pursue You
I grabbed my outfit for the masquerade, tossing it casually on my bed and sighing. I had been looking forward to this ball for months. Now, knowing what pain lay in wait after, I wanted nothing more than to curl up in my bed and sleep. However, I could hear the music from the foyer and I reluctantly stripped naked and looked down at my costume.
The outfit was meant to expose the majority of the stomach and chest area. It was the whitest garment I had ever laid eyes on, the color of summer clouds, of snow, of Erik's mask . . .
I shook him out of my thoughts immediately. It wouldn't help me now that I would seal my fate tonight. He wouldn't come to hold or kiss me anymore. I reluctantly examined my attire once more.
The outfit fit identically to the turquoise one, and the skirt was tight around the thighs, but fanned out as it swept past my knees. Jewels were stuck to the hem and waistband of the skirt and top was in the shape of two raging flames, which served the purpose of covering my breasts exclusively.
I had my wig specially styled in tight ringlets, shortening its length to falling only to the bottom of my ribcage where it wasn't pulled back loosely. Shimmering threads of silver were woven into my hair, and every time the thread touched the light, it shone like a liquid star. In my hand was a mask meant to cover my cheeks and most of my nose. Two wide eyeholes allowed for the eyes and the area around them to be seen clearly. The mask too, was white.
I knew not whether the white was a symbol of my purity soon to be destroyed, or just the reason that it was a common color for costumes that led me to this barren snow-white outfit.
I smiled dully as I put the finishing touches on my skirt and looked at my reflection. I admit the ensemble fit me rather well. If the theater didn't already know of my marriage, I would have many hungry stares tonight. Well, I might anyway, knowing how tactless insolent stagehands could be.
Now it was time for the added sparkle that would set me apart from everyone else. I grabbed a handful of fake diamonds and coated the back with a sticky clear substance. I began placing individual jewels all along the exposed parts of my body, starting on my arms and my stomach, working up to my back and parts of my chest, over my shoulders and up my neck. The jewels were cold against my warm skin. Some were even placed on my face, though very sparingly. One jewel was at the far edge of each eye.
Reluctantly, I adorned the mask, only my shimmering lips and jaw showing. My blue green eyes danced in the candlelight; they would always betray my identity no matter what I wore.
"Pity comes too late, Nasrin," I said to my reflection. "No more running; turn around and face your fate. You chose the Comte, and no matter how much you yearn for Erik, that cannot and will not ever be." I blew out the candles in the room and walked slowly to the masquerade, each step drawing me closer to my doom.
I emerged into the foyer, drawn in by the cackling laughs of drink-induced glee. An explosion of the rainbow met my eyes as costumes of every shade dipped and twirled in merriment.
"Wondrous," I whispered. I began to laugh out of sheer astonishment at the splendor of the event and in my bliss I grabbed a small glass of champagne from a passing waiter.
"You look beautiful," came Jean's soft voice.
I turned to look at him, lowering my mask. I . . . couldn't believe it. He was . . he was . . . I found myself gritting my teeth in disgust, clenching my chalice tightly in my fist.
He was dressed in a long black cape with his tawny hair slicked back, allowing it to fall to the nape of his neck. He wore black gloves on his hands and the right side of his face was almost completely concealed by a white mask.
"You are dressed as the Phantom?" I asked venomously.
Oh, not wise on our wedding night, you slime.
"Yes, so are most of the people here. Dressing up like the 'Opera Ghost' was a big hit. I'm glad I thought of it. I only hope he doesn't come and see us all dressed up as him, making a mockery of his hideous tyranny." A stupid grin grew on his face.
My eyes were black with hate. Fiancé or not, this was too much for me to stomach.
"Bastard," I spat, throwing my champagne at him and feeling a twisted satisfaction as the alcohol bubbled on his outfit.
He looked at me incredulously, his jaw slackened in awe. Without hesitation, I thrust my empty glass into his arms and stormed off, my cheerful mood all but shattered.
"Darling? What in the world was that for?" he asked hazily, moving to follow me. One stern look informed him that I would not tolerate being followed.
I gritted my teeth, grabbed another drink and gulped it down. The warm liquid soothed my temper and I sighed, breathing out my rage.
"Ah, Madame Fire Rose, there is some one who wants to meet you." Madame Giry's voice startled me and I jumped. Her voice was welcome to my ears and I turned to face her cheerfully
"Who? I was sure I knew everyone here." I peered around the room, recognizing the faces of Piangi, Carlotta, and Meg, faces flushed scarlet with drink. I hoped to get that drunk later, to prevent myself from remembering my wedding night in future times.
"You have not met Christine Daaé, and the Vicomte de Chagny," Giry pointed out.
Oh no, Madame, that disgusting heathen is some one I will never rejoice in sharing company. Do you not remember to whom I was married?
"No I haven't, nor do I have any desire to. Are they the ones who wish to speak with me?" I once again hid my face behind the white mask, grimacing to myself; I hated putting up a pretense of politeness and composure, especially when it was with matters dealing with Erik's infatuation.
"Yes, come this way. They were very insistent." Madame Giry grabbed a firm hold of my forearm and pulled me towards the middle of the room. "Christine, Vicomte!" she called.
A knot wound itself in my stomach and weighed down on my insides. I began to feel nauseas and I focused on the ground. Suddenly, two pairs of shoes entered my vision and I looked up bleakly.
I was met with a pair of wide smiling faces. Christine's clear blue eyes were warm with kindness and her golden hair spilled like liquid gold around her waist. I noticed that she was dressed in a pink gown that elegantly swept the floor. She reached out a slender hand to me, never once breaking eye contact with me.
I hate you, my mind roared. And you don't even know why! Remember your wedding costume Erik has below? It was me, you angelic, pious wench!
I blinked once before looking down at her hand. Hesitantly, I lowered my mask and took Christine's hand, shaking it weakly and smiling reluctantly, holding back a torrent of violent urges. I smiled only because I could picture the look of horror on Erik's face if I killed her before him.
"It's an honor to meet you. Madame Giry told me that you were staying in my room all this time. I do hope you have found it comfortable." She smiled again. Her and Jean! Always smiling! It was so frustrating that I almost broke into a vicious rage.
I forced my smile to linger and returned her polite banter. "Yes, it has been very comfortable. I assume that since you have returned you will want your room back?"
Christine waved her hand as if to swat away my offer. "Not at all. I can stay where they put me. Oh, and I have been very rude, forgive me." She motioned to Raoul, who stood beside her protectively, his hazel eyes narrowed at me. I have never been happier to return a glare. "This is Raoul, the Vicomte de Chagny. He is my fiancé." She flushed and whispered the last sentence, fondling the engagement ring around her neck.
I fought back a maniacal grin. I forced myself to swallow the lump in my throat and graciously take the Vicomte's hand. "It's an honor, Monsieur. I know you are the patron of this facility now, are you not?"
"I am," Raoul said, his chest swelled in pride. "Although a great deal of my money is being abused by that god damned Opera Ghost. It is plausible that he uses the money simply for whores and wine." He laughed at his own insult.
That bastard!
I noticed that Christine's facial expression had remained grave and our eyes met as we pursed our lips at Raoul's scathing remark. Unable to stomach his laughter, I burst.
"He is not to be poked fun at! There is enough blasphemy around with everyone dressed up as him! The man deserves respect," I spat vehemently, yanking my hand from Raoul's in a show of rage.
"Respect? How can you say that?" Raoul asked, aghast. "He kidnapped Christine after her triumph at the gala."
My eyes darted to Christine who was deathly pale. She shifted from one foot to another and her eyes were focused on the floor.
Your turn, 'angel,' to feel the wrath of my torment!
"Perhaps Christine left of her own free will? Did you ever think of that?"
The Vicomte looked at Christine through narrowed eyes. "Did you go with him willingly, Christine?"
Christine's bottom lip quivered and sparkling tears breached her eyes and tumbled down her cheeks. "Just leave me alone!" She fled from Raoul's arms, pushing past some guests and vanishing into the crowd.
"Why did you say that?" he snapped at me, grabbing me arm. "You upset her!"
"If speaking the truth upsets her, that is not my problem," I hissed, yanking myself from his weak grasp once again. I was in no mood to be tampered with. Not tonight.
"How would you know anything about that?" he barked hotly.
"I just have a feeling. In her eyes you can see the weakness of her mind. She could easily be ensnared by any man with a voice as seductive as the Phantom's."
Raoul's eyes narrowed and he looked at me suspiciously. "You have heard him speak?"
Damn!
I flushed and shook my head madly. "No . . . of course not . . . I was just using it as an example. I have never heard the Phantom speak. Now, why don't you chase after your future bride before she gets herself groped by a mob of drunken men."
Raoul paled and chased after her protectively, frantically looking back over his shoulder at me as I watched him go with a look shrouded in ambiguity.
When at last he faded from sight, I smiled, feeling as though my own demons were being exorcized as I tormented the fop and the ingénue. "Poor fool, he makes me laugh."
The music began to get faster and I placed my mask gently on a table, watching as Raoul wrapped his arms around Christine and dragged her on the dance floor, moving with her graciously into a waltz. I chuckled, knowing that Erik would undoubtedly plan for claiming Christine as his, seeing as though I had promised myself to Jean. However, I doubt he knew of this engagement.
Your turn to cry, my dear. It isn't easy losing some one you love, is it?
"Oh, the fop doesn't know what he is getting himself into. I can feel you Erik; I know you are here somewhere." I peered around, trying to catch a glimpse of the original phantom amongst all the despicable imposters. I wanted to see him again before I left, see his face and burn it into my memory, ever aspect of him. But at the same time I dreaded it, fearing that I could never move on from those eyes, those lips, that heart shattered from my insolence, Christine's fear, and years of pain and hiding.
"Nasrin!" Madame Giry appeared once again beside me, face now rosy from liquor. "Could you grace us with a dance?" She motioned to an empty spot in the middle of the dance floor.
"If you want me to," I answered, grateful that I had something with which to occupy me, as Jean wouldn't come near me now.
Giry pushed me to the middle of the dance floor. Activity stopped somewhat as the actors saw me standing in the middle of the room.
Rolling my eyes, I began to dance to the music Monsieur Reyer conducted. Each crescendo became more and more dramatic as I began to twirl around; my arms spread open wide. A smile grew on my face as the music flooded my veins and reached the innermost confines of the soul. Once again, my troubles dissipated with the chords.
I had been released and immediately, my moves became zealous with the beat of the drums. As the lighting grew stronger, the jewels on my body reflected rainbows of color every which way and I could feel my whole being glow with divine beauty.
Just as the music reached its climax and my twirling became more intense, all of the lights failed at once, plunging the room into darkness but for one door leading into a lit hall. Silhouetted against the light was a figure dressed in crimson silk with a skull mask over the majority of his face. An evil grin betrayed his identity.
"Erik," I muttered, my eyes glued to every movement he made. Once again, I had lowered my defenses and stood powerless in his path.
He began to step slowly, powerfully, down the stairs, opening his arms wide in tainted welcome.
"Why so silent, good messieurs? Did you think that I had left you for good?" Everyone froze in fear as his eyes found mine, sparkling with both desire and hatred. "Have you missed me, good messieurs? I have written you an opera!"
I eyed the black leather sleeve of music he produced from behind his flowing scarlet cape. Perhaps that is how he dealt with the grief I saw in his eyes.
"Here I bring the finished score." He threw it at the managers, who trembled against one another. "Don Juan Triumphant!"
His gaze turned to me, hungry and dark, not the Erik I loved; I began to back away, sensing his urge to utterly destroy me at that very moment.
"Hello, my little Fire Rose. How lovely you look tonight," Erik cooed dangerously, drawing his blade.
What was he doing? Was he going to slay me right here? Rid me of my dignity and slaughter me before everyone?
I shakily stood my ground. I looked at the blade balefully and crossed my arms, my eyes dulling with indifference. If he killed me now, I would never be obligated to marry Jean. The thought was rather intriguing and I found myself moving towards the blade, awaiting my end.
"How does this creature know you?" Jean asked, breaking out of the crowd and walking quickly to my side. I looked up at him nonchalantly and resumed looking at Erik, staring down his satanic glare. Jean stepped in front of me, making himself a breathing barrier between the Phantom and myself. "You will not hurt her," he warned Erik shakily.
Erik narrowed his eyes, his presence as menacing as ever as the Red Death. "I have no intention of harming her, you pretentious little fool. You must be her fiancé, the Comte de Lamarier." His lips curled back into a malevolent snarl and I saw his grip on the blade tighten. "You all thought that dressing up like me would be a grand hilarity. Did you get your laughs?" His eyes fell on each cast member, who shrank back in trepidation. When his eyes fell on Christine, they narrowed and he turned from me to her, striding slowly up to the first forsaken angel. I was torn between being relived and offended.
"Yes, come to me Angel of Music." His voice had become deep with dark passion and I quivered.
I watched as Christine's expression clouded in longing and she released herself from Raoul, walking in a trance towards Erik, mouthing the words, "My Angel of Music." Her eyes were wide as saucers and I could see the grin of triumph on his face
My expression darkened with hate as I watched helplessly as Erik welcomed his angel closer to him. Already tearing, I looked away.
"Nasrin, are you all right?" Jean asked, turning around to face me, placing his hands reassuringly on my shoulders. I nodded mutely, unable to form words with my tongue, which was knotted from unspoken wishes. He wiped a tear from my eye and looked compassionately down at me. "I told you, I'd be here always to protect you. Whether it is from Erik or the Phantom."
I let out a harsh laugh as Erik whipped towards Jean, eyes wide with disdain.
"You do not know how foolish you sound, Jean." I shook my head, noticing Erik grit his teeth in wrath.
Jean leaned in and kissed me gently. I almost kissed him back, but he pulled away to say, "Then at least I am foolish for you."
I turned to see Erik's expression turn black with hate as he stomped back to me. He pushed Jean aside roughly and grabbed my arm and the nape of my neck, assuring that I wouldn't move. I felt nauseating dread pound at my instincts and I thrashed out with my remaining limbs, flailing about helplessly in his arms.
What are you going to do to me Erik? If you're going to kill me, do it now!
"You want to protect her from me two fold, do you?" he roared.
Oh no!
I looked up at Jean. Now he knew, now he saw, my husband had been the Phantom of the Opera. I was ruined.
Jean's face went as white as chalk. "You're Erik?"
"Yes, you insolent boy. Now, would you like to see who . . . or to what I should say, you are pledging your love?"
Oh by Allah no, please don't do what I think you are going to do! Please! I am at your mercy! Don't do this!
He moved his hand up to the top of my head, gripping fast to my wig of beautiful ebony hair. I thrashed harder in his arms as tears streamed down my face. My heart thundered. I had to get away from him. I couldn't let Jean see now!
"I pledged myself to the beautiful dancer: Nasrin Khanum, the Fire Rose, and there is nothing you show me that will make me say otherwise." His voice was quivering in fright, though his statement held promise. He glared back up at Erik, never wavering.
"So be it," Erik hissed. He brutally yanked off my wig, and held it high above his head, just out of my reach.
"NO!" I screamed in torment and fell to my knees, covering my horrid, horrid head with my hands. The thin strands of my smoky hair slipped between my fingers and my small hands couldn't cover my scarred scalp.
No . . .
I whimpered on the floor, though I knew it was far too late. All came to complete ruin. Some people screamed, while others gasped in disgust. My eyesight blurred as tears pattered on the floor. I saw very well the look of revulsion on everyone's faces.
In a desperate attempt for comfort, I looked up at Jean. He held the rest of my life in his hands.
Please Jean, if you really love me . . . comfort me this once . . .
His face was contorted into a look between pity and sickness. He backed away from me, face crinkled in disgust.
"Jean, please . . ." I whimpered, yearning for him to tell me that it was all right, that my head meant nothing. "Please . . ."
However, he fled my side in terror, leaving me with Erik beside me, laughing in the darkest triumph I have ever known.
"Yes everyone, this is your beautiful enchantress of dancing! This is truly what you have been ensnared by! She is a paradox of herself isn't she? The most priceless beauty, and the most terrible beast!" He leered down at my defeated face, revenge gleaming sickly in his eyes.
"Erik . . ." I muttered, broken and shamed by a bane we shared.
My beauty was corrupted, my dignity raped, and my heart broken and throbbing. Everyone saw me . . . everyone knew . . . I could not dance here . . . anywhere . . . again . . . Jean fled from my side . . . I am no longer married to Erik . . . I am useless . . . I thought to myself as a final wave of anguish destroyed precious remains of my sanity.
I reached up to grab the wig from Erik's fist, though my sight was blurred by unstoppable fresh waves of tears. I snatched it from his fist and yanked it over my monstrosity. Unable to stomach anymore, I fled the foyer and burst out of the Opera Populaire and into the night. I was alone . . . utterly and despairingly alone.
Because of Jean, I had felt the wrench of betrayal once again. And because of Erik, I had no life worth living anymore. The thought of their cruelties filled my heart with loathing.
I despised them both with a hatred not even the Devil could hope to match
A/N: Thanks to all my reviewers!
VictorianDream: XD! The name of a hug can do much. Well, what hugging does for you, spanking does for others (shrugs) Plus, Erik can be kind of an ass in some chapters. (gives tissues) I know, I felt like a loser crying at my own story . . . but . . . oh well, it was sad. Wow, thank you so much! I'm very flattered. (flushes) (bows) It's people like you that keep me updating! So thanks for the review and here is your update!
littledarkone: LOL, I told you it was depressing. YAY! I keep people hooked! (dances) Don't worry, I have your trust, I shall not abuse it. Yes . . . stupid Comte indeed . . . love is a term used so loosely these days. Anyway, thanks for the review and here is your update!
Bananas in Pajamas: (gives you a fan for future chapters) It hasn't quite clicked that what he did will drive her from him. Unfortunately, he can't admit that he loves her because he has yet to admit that she weakens him. He doesn't like being weak (no one really does) so he hesitates putting himself in a situation where he would be around some one who makes him so vulnerable. In the same respect, he doesn't want to live without her, because he knows that they were meant for each other. So when he finally admits to himself that he needs her, she's engaged. I guess it's just the fury that Nasrin abandoned him the same way Christine did, (and in the same place no less) so he sorta just lost his mind. Anyway, soon it will be Nasrin's turn; then you can start fearing. Thanks for the review and here is your update
BringMeLife: Welcome to my reviewing family! (bows) Thank you so much! You flatter me as well! Now, I'm not one for giving away endings, so I won't say much in accordance with that, but you'll see as it unfolds, I promise. And yes, your nervousness was well placed. Poor Nasrin! Thanks for the review and here is your update!
Mademoiselle Justicia: O.O;;; I'm sorry! (cowers in corner) I know, I mean, it's upsetting and stuff, and he did just kinda ruin her, but he's hurt. Nasrin would do the same thing . . . oops, shouldn't have said that. Oh, and Erik did cry when he went down to his lair, just I didn't put strong emphasis on it. Nasrin knew she was never going to be over Erik, but staying with him still loving Christine would just pretty much destroy her. She chose to marry Jean simply because she thought all she needed was love. (not the beatles' song kind) But she obviously realized that she made a mistake, because she realized that his feelings for her are deeper than she surmised. In a way, (you'll see how) what Erik did in this chapter liberated her. I know you don't see it now, but she says it later. I assure you! Calm down! We will get through this! Mutant Christine, eh? XD! That is funny, perhaps we should indeed sick 'em on Erik. But for now (as I flee for my life) thanks for the review and here is your update!
Jen Lennon: (gives tissues) There you go, I knew some people would need them. Revenge is a good topic, yes. And I will, practically 4 straight chapters of it. Mwahaha. And love for Erik, oh, that makes the revenge part very hard. Well, Nasrin does want Erik, but she shares him with me all the time so I'm sure she could lend him off to you sometimes. ;-) Thanks for the review and here is your update!
tink8812: (gives tissues) There you go. Oh, well as you saw, I had to fudge the musical just slightly to have the incident happen. You just have to assume that after she left, everything happens as it does in the movie. (nervous laughter) I tried to keep it as close as possible! I hope I didn't disappoint anyone with it. Anyway, thanks for the review and here is your update!
xxXGoddessXofXdeadXloveXxx: LOL, good, I'm glad you seized the opportunity! Good to hear you had the tissue box at the ready. I assumed that you might need it, lol. Well, Nasrin got slapped all right, but not literally. As you can read in the chappy, she got dealt a worse blow than just a strike of the hand. Anyway, thanks for the review and here is your update!
ladyflutter: Welcome to my reviewing family! I know . . . I know, you just wanna throw them together and say: THERE! YOU LOVE EACHOTHER! GOD! So happy you all like Nasrin, I love her too. (hopes she doesn't sound conceded) Anyway, yes, Erik does have too high of an opinion of himself. Don't worry, Nasrin can put him in check. (wink) LOL, it's all right. I like reviews. Anyway, thanks for the review and here is your update!
GerrysJackie: Welcome to my reviewing family! Thank you oh so much! (bows) I agree, Erik should just take Nasrin down to the labyrinth and bang her. I'm sorry, but even as the author I wanted that. But can Erik or Nasrin make it easy on themselves? NO! Silly characters. Anyway, thank you for the review and here is your update!
Dragon-mage16: XD! OMG, to anyone who doesn't know why I'm laughing read the review, omg. XD! How I wish! But don't worry, Nasrin has a more bloody approach in mind. MWAHAHA! O.O Erik in nothing but his flesh in a hot tub . . .mmmm delicious. I think I'll use that as an excuse to go in a hot tub, even though it is summer. Thanks for the review and here is your update! (sits in hot tub next to Erik) (purrs)
Ali: Welcome to my reviewing family! Any friend of my poozle is a friend of mine! (bows) Thank you so much, you flatter me! (wow I sound like a proper lady. Pft.) Anyway, thanks for your review and here is your update!
Maska: You'll see. I shall reveal all! Well, Nasrin was going to marry Jean b/c she doesn't think Erik loves her, and she needs to feel like she is loved, so she is marrying some one whom she knows loves her. (pants) long sentence. But she does love Erik and she isn't marrying Jean for revenge, just to move on. She knows Erik still has feelings for Christine, and her heart was broken when he called her Christine earlier. So she figures that he doesn't love her. What started off as revenge just became a way to escape from pain. Now . . . things got a violent shove into more than escape. Now it is a matter of revenge, and completely justified at that! Thanks for the review and here is your update!