Disclaimer: Agh, forget it. Everyone knows I don't own it already. Oh, and the great song I May Hate Myself in the Morning belongs to the lovely Le Ann Womack. n-n;
IAR: Happy 229th, America! (MAM-BOS) Hm, yeah. Don't ask. It's an inside thing between Dene and me. XP; I really don't have much to say, except this chapter is pretty much paragraphs. But, shockingly, there's absolutely no dialogue. Scary, no? o-0 And, I apologize for the cruddy page breaks. The regular lines won't work for me. Evil lines.
Adriane Bassarid: Thank you very much! And I'm absolutely open to suggestions, but yours is being followed in this chapter. That's right, rabid phangirls. ERIK HAS ARRIVED! (trumpets sound and phangirls squeal)
Ohh, centered! Now I present to thy readers, Chapter 3!
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After stopping by my house to find it empty (Dad had gone out for some air), I grabbed a small duffel bag that contained my dance clothes. I was going down to the local theater to attempt at dancing once again. Since Madame Giry was the dance instructor there, and she had no rehearsals today, she had allowed me to practice.
It would be my first time going there since it opened several months ago. I was excited as I approached the main door and fumbled with the keyring that Madame Giry had given me. Finally, after searching through what seemed like hundreds of keys, I found the right one and held it to my face, inspecting it. Just clutching that metal felt wonderful. To think, I'd actually be where I longed to be again. It was an engulfing feeling, but I took it head on.
Slowly, licking my dry lips, I put the key into the lock and turned it carefully. It clicked. I smiled. This was it…To be back in a theater again, even if there was no one around. It really didn't matter much at the time. I just wanted to be back. Back to where I was when Mum was alive.
I opened the large black glass doors and peered in to find nothing but darkness. Groping along the walls, I entered and tried to find a keyhole that Madame Giry had told me to put the same key in to turn on the lights. Finally, a small cold object came under my hands and I slipped the key in. I was instantly blinded.
After blinking several times to adjust to the newly found light, I looked around. I was in the main hall, it looked like. There was a grand staircase leading up to the second level before me, and everything was white or silver or gold. It truly was amazing. But instead of heading upwards towards the theater just yet, I went off to the side to find the electric closet and flipped the switches for the lights in the theater. Now I was ready.
So, quickly, I sprinted to another door that lead to the lower half of the theater and stopped. Well, here goes everything, I thought. Taking a deep breath, I opened the door and stepped inside to another world where I felt alive. My mouth fell open and my bag fell to the floor as I looked around.
Over my head was a huge dome, painted beautifully with nude angels of all shapes, sizes, colors and the fluffiest clouds I had ever seen. The angels seemed to be relaxing, singing and playing instruments, some in dramatic poses, proving they were acting. They were all on the clouds, which were wrapped in the softest blue sky I had ever seen. The dome was held up by what seemed to be pure gold beams that held a row of lights in each of them, and they led to the main centerpiece.
A humungous crystal chandelier, as big, or bigger, than my living room hung there, swaying gently with the breeze I had just let in. I shivered slightly. If a fly landed on it, it was sure to plunge down on the helpless velvet covered seats below, crushing anyone who sat there.
I spun around slowly, trying to see it in all different directions. It all looked an equal amount of beautiful to me. I frowned to myself. How Mum would have loved to see this!
Still distracted by the ceiling, I walked forward only to stumble on something rather large. Glancing down from my entranced state, I saw a rolled up red carpet lying at my feet. I bent down to examine it, only to feel like someone was watching me. Quickly, I returned to full height and glared around, trying to find the source of my discomfort. No one was there. Shrugging, I returned to inspecting the carpet.
Deep scarlet in color and soft as silk, the carpet seemed to be just like the one I had seen not too long ago while watching an award show on T.V. I ran my fingertips over it, shuddering. Dust came off onto my fingers, and I placed my whole right hand on the fabric and giggled when I lifted it off to find my handprint there surrounded by filth.
Well, I thought to myself, I'd be doing the janitors a favor if I clean the whole thing.
So, gently, I started swiping off the dust with both of my hands, wiping them on my t-shirt every once in a while. After finishing the whole thing, I stood back up and smiled at my handiwork. The carpet was mostly restored to its natural beauty.
Carefully stepping over the roll, I strode down the right aisle that separated the seats that led to the orchestra pit and then to the stage. I scrambled down into the pit and ran my hands over the music stands that seemed to be gathering dust as well, since the last show hadn't been for a month. Some of the other instruments had been left there, and just for a laugh, I decided to pick up a spare violin and play a few notes onstage. It actually produced a sweet sound, and I found myself playing and singing along to a song that I had grown to love.
Ain't it just like one of us
To pick up the phone and call after a couple drinks
Say how you been I've been wondering if maybe you've been thinking 'bout me
And somewhere in the conversation
An ole familiar invitation always arrives
I may hate myself in the morning
But I'm gonna love you tonight.
I stopped with my mouth still wide open from holding out the last note. Mostly from being awestruck. I hadn't sung in so long. The word 'tonight' still rang in my ears and throughout the theater, bouncing off gold nude women statues that were on every column that held up the upper levels. My mouth opened and closed several times before I came to my senses and placed the violin gently back in its place in the orchestra pit.
Backing away from the edge of the stage, I gazed around once more. Whoever designed this theater must have been a genius. Gold was everywhere I turned, and the red velvet seemed to wrap around me tightly. As I looked the private boxes up and down, in Box 5, I thought I saw a brief flash of white. Shrugging it off, I sighed happily, picked up my duffel bag that I had lain down earlier, and exited the stage in search of a dressing room.
- - -
The shadow of a man peered over the edge of the banister that separated him and the seats below the box he sat in. He watched silently as a beautiful teenaged girl had performed an unfamiliar piece of music with such skill and ease on his stage. She sang like an angel- no, she was an angel! In every way, she was perfect. His eyes were wide open in awe at how exquisite her body was. He traced over it and its curves repeatedly, not feeling any guilt at all. Her hair was beautiful, laid over her shoulders in gentle chocolate curls. Her eyes were deep brown and soft exactly like a doe's. And her skin, so smooth like a porcelain doll's…
The man, on instinct, ran a hand over the left side of face. Smooth and warm, just like a normal person's. But what the other side held was too horrid for human eyes. Especially for that gorgeous girl trespassing in his theater. He knew he should do something about it. But he couldn't. He couldn't let her get anywhere near him, so as to protect herself from the terrible monster he truly was.
Standing up, with a swirl of his cloak, he left the box to get a better look at the girl.
- - -
I returned a few minutes later to the stage, in just a tank top and some old gym shorts. My actual dance clothes- Well. I had no idea where they were, so this would have to do.
Hastily taking a small boom box from my duffel bag, I walked over to center stage. I slipped a CD in and was off.
It was a pleasant tune, something you'd hear as if watching pixies frolicking through a green meadow. But, all I honestly knew is that it came from an opera my mum and dad enjoyed. They used to play it when I was a small child to help calm me down. I smiled contentedly as I started to move with the music. It felt wonderful to stretch out in this way after so many years.
Gracefully, I spun and leapt across the stage until the music ended. Panting, I sat down where I was, brought my knees to my chest, and wrapped my arms around them. I buried my head in my hands and let out a small sob. That music had reminded me so much of Mum… I hadn't listened to it in years, and suddenly I decided to dance to it in a place I had never been to before? And on the anniversary of her death, no less. I cursed under my breath and let more tears run down my cheeks.
- - -
The man watched as the girl danced about the stage. His breath caught in his throat when the music came on. Music of an opera you composed… Cackled a small voice in the back of his mind.
Enraged, he stood up quickly from his seat near the front of the theater. How could she have played such damned music when she was an angel? An angel didn't need to hear such disgraceful tunes! Sliding among the row of chairs hastily to get into the center aisle, he looked back at the girl quickly. She was still dancing. Dancing to his music. Dancing to the music that made people flee after the opening night. To the music that had made him famous, but hated beyond belief.
He stopped abruptly and sank back into another chair, bewildered. How could she still be smiling? Didn't she know of that day?
Of course not, he cursed to himself, she's too young to know. Too young to know of what really happened. Too young to even know who he was…
Only Madame Giry and his 'friend' Nadir knew who he really was. He took to hiring younger servants so they would not run in fear at the sight of him. Though he could tell most of them felt uneasy around him, always scurrying in quickly, delivering his tea, and running back out, not even daring to look him in the eye.
His train of thought was interrupted by the sound of whimpering. He looked towards the stage where the girl sat, sobbing into her legs. Eyes widening with concern, he stood up and crept towards the stage in the shadows.
- - -
I had to get out of here. This horrid place that hypnotized me to do the thing I'd dreaded on doing for so long. Standing up quickly and staggering to my bag, I froze as I heard a soft sound from the back of the theater. No, wait. It was coming from above! No, behind me! No, below me! I spun around frantically trying to decide what it was and where it was coming from. Then realization hit.
Someone was clapping.
- - -
He couldn't stop his hands. They had started on their own, and now they wouldn't stop.
His legs seemed to be possessed as well. They were walking forward when he didn't want them to, but deep in his soul he was secretly excited. He was getting so close to that beautiful girl. So close he could already sense her fear. With a look of despair crossing over his face, he stopped walking but kept clapping. She couldn't see him, he knew it. His black clothing blended too well into the shadows.
He didn't want her to fear him. But then again, most people did. Why should she be any different?
- - -
Backing up slowly and gulping, I fell on my back onto the hard wood of the stage. Blinking, I stared up at the rafters above. I sat up and scooted back into the scenery until I couldn't go any farther, but the clapping increased and began engulfing me. I felt myself fainting, everything going black. But before I faded off, I saw a flash of white above my head and then everything disappeared into darkness.
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I wonder what Erik did to get so hated by the theater community? Ah, but that is for me to know and you to maybe find out. ;D
Before you attempt killing me, I should let you know that Christine has letting go issues that Erik will help get rid of before the end of this story. That's why she's always thinking back to her mother. And, it's still the anniversary of her death, just to let you know. She's trying to forget and move on, but you can see it isn't going too well. I'm being so mean to poor Chrissy, aren't I? n-n;
Eh, I'm not all that happy with this chapter. Hm, and I don't really know if you'd consider this a cliffie, but whatever. That's up to you guys, I suppose. Thanks to Adriane Bassarid for reviewing, and thou shalt get thy giant Erik plushie as promised. :D Now, it is time for you lurker readers to follow her example. Tell me what you think and REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW! I don't care if you have questions, comments…Just REVIEW.