6) Free to do it all my way
When Erik arrived at Meg´s dressing room he knocked a few times. The door was opened slightly, and the girl looked out. Her eyes widened in surprise as she saw who was there. "Erik!", she said in a breathless whisper. "What are you- Oh, never mind! Just come in quickly, before someone sees you!" She took him by the hand and pulled him into the room, pushing the door shut with her foot.
Even to a casual observer it would have been obvious that these two people had learned to enjoy every moment together as much as possible. Without exchanging a single word their lips met in a searing kiss. But as his hands started caressing her breasts through the fabric of her ballet dress Meg broke the kiss. "I´m sorry, Erik, but we don´t have that much time. In five minutes maman wants to show us the new steps for act three.", she explained, shrugging apologetically.
"She´ll practice the steps with you on stage, won´t she?", he asked, a certain twinkle in his eyes. "Yes, of course.", Meg replied. "Where else-" A piercing scream echoing through the corridor interrupted her. Moments later hurried footsteps could be heard and also more shouts. "Oh my God, look at all this blood!" "-hanging right over there!" "Rats all over -!" The chorus girls´ high-pitched squeals mixed with the deeper and slightly calmer voices of stagehands.
Meg wanted to run to the source of commotion and see what was going on, but couldn´t move. Her body was paralysed with fear. Fear and a terrible suspicion. She stared at Erik. Suddenly she was feeling very cold; she even shivered. It couldn´t be. He wouldn´t … or would he? "Was that you?", she wanted to know, her voice sounding hollow. He merely nodded. How could he look so pleased with himself? "And… and who…?" The girl felt as if she would suffocate with her own words. "Oh, one of the stagehands.", he answered casually. "The other day he had the audacity to talk to his despicable friends about the size of your bosom! I couldn´t leave such insolence unpunished."
"What?", she muttered faintly. "You… killed a man because he had talked about my…?" It was only when he looked into her terribly pale face that Erik realised that she actually believed his story. "Oh Meg, I´m sorry. That was supposed to be a little joke.", he said hastily, wrapping his arms around her. "Can you forgive an old fool with the sense of humour typical for someone who has lived alone far too long?" "Yes.", Meg replied, sighing in relief. Slowly her heartbeat returned to its normal speed. She should have known better. He would never do that.
"But what´s happening on stage then? They spoke about blood…" She was a bit confused now. He smiled down at her kindly and began to explain his plan proudly. "Raw meat. A kitchen maid in a restaurant nearby received a little money for putting several pounds of it on stage minutes after the lesson had ended. The smell attracted rats, which are probably just having the feast of their lives. It´ll take at least an hour till the rat catcher has brought them away and the stage is clean again. So we have plenty of time for us." He shook his head indignantly. Why did even his darling Meg suspect he had committed murder, when in truth he had done nothing but giving the rats living under the opera better food than they had ever received?
Meg leaned closer, resting her head against his shoulder. "And all this effort just for me?", she whispered. "If I had to set white elephants free on stage to spend more time with you, I´d buy them at once.", he said almost seriously. "Come to think of it, what about a couple of white mice in the new girl´s dressing room? You didn´t seem to like her too much." She didn´t have to ask how he could know that. His habit of watching rehearsals was nothing new to her.
Sighing slightly she pulled herself out of his embrace and settled down on the sofa. She sensed that this wouldn´t be an easy conversation. Suddenly she wished they could have prolonged their talk about raw meat. Without protesting against the abrupt end of their physical contact Erik sat down next to her. For a few moments neither of them said something. Then Meg started speaking in a flat voice. "She´s so… perfect. I´ll never be like that, not even if I practice a hundred years. Why should I bother trying at all? And the way maman looked at her… I bet the managers will like her as well, and M.Reyer and… and everybody! And what about me?"
Erik had listened to her outburst without making an attempt to stop her. Now he patted her hand sympathetically. "I´ll talk to them.", he offered. "I´ll talk to the managers, to M.Reyer and to your mother and I´ll tell them that they better treat you decently, or else…" "But no!", she said. "I want them to respect me because of my dancing and not because my lover could kill them." She didn´t notice that she was using the exact argument he had used weeks ago when they had discussed their relationship.
Erik did notice, but didn´t comment on it. His mind was still busy with the term ´lover´. Meg didn´t often call him that. Somehow he liked the sound of it. Focusing on her problem again he said: "Then show them! Show them you´re the best dancer! And even in the unlikely case that this girl is indeed better than you… you´ll always be the loveliest girl in the world for me.". "Very helpful, Erik.", Meg muttered, punching his arm playfully. But she was smiling. She should be happy about the time she could spend with him. Who knew how long- Someone knocked at the door.