Chapter 9 – Masquerade
Christine opened her eyes and breathed in the heady smell of paint and stage make up. A smile flickered across her face. She was home. She dressed and left the ballet dormitories, and found Madame Giry talking to some members of the chorus. She dismissed them as soon as Christine approached. "My dear, so good to see you!" She exclaimed, giving Christine a half hug. "There is to be a Masked Ball tonight, I know you have nothing to wear, so I took the liberty of lending you a dress…" As she spoke, she walked to her chambers and took out an elegant ball gown. Christine could only gape at it. The dress in Madame Giry's hands was a pale pink, with beading and embroidery in whites and even more pink. It sported a wide, full skirt, and had delicate lace edging the sleeves. Christine looked up at Madame Giry, who had a coy smile on her face. "It's beautiful…" Christine whispered breathlessly. "It is yours. You will attend the Ball with me and Meg." Madame Giry said, in clipped tones. "Meet us here tonight, as soon as you are ready." She handed the dress to Christine, who took it and with a small curtsey Christine returned to the Ballet dormitories. She put the dress carefully into her clothes chest then she returned to the stage. No one was about, besides the cleaners, so Christine had a chance to practice her dancing. She put on a pair of Ballet shoes, and began to retrace the steps to the slave girl's dance.
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As soon as it got past six o'clock, Christine ran into the dormitories and quickly changed. She put on her make-up and tried to brush her hair into order. She hummed 'Think of Me' as she swiftly tied up her hair into a neat knot at the top of her head. A few loose curls tumbled from the knot, but that added to the overall effect. When she was done Christine gazed steadily at her reflection for some time. She daydreamed again, her princess dream, made all the more real by this wonderful dress. She could only imagine the Ball with everyone dressed like this, dancing, spinning, swirling. Christine opened her eyes and saw that a lot of time had passed. She gasped and hurried to Madame Giry's quarters, where she hastily knocked on the door. Meg opened it, and quickly a huge grin spread on her face. "Christine!" She cried, opening her arms wide, and giving Christine a warm hug. She ushered Christine inside and sat her down opposite her. "It's been a long time Christine!" Meg said, her eyes alight with excitement. "Maman said you'd gone away for a rest, a holiday. Where did you go?" She asked. Christine smiled a little. "Oh, just outside Paris…" She said shrugging. Madame Giry chose that moment to appear from another adjoining room. "Girls, let's be off. Masks ?" She said curtly.
"Yes" Meg and Christine chorused. They left the room, Meg in a white, fluffy necked dress, Madame Giry in a sleek, black oriental dress and Christine in, what she liked to call, her Princess dress. As they entered the Foyer, they raised their masks, and surveyed the room. Every colour, every size and shape dress and suit was in this room. Christine's eyes widened in wonder. She looked up and spotted Monsieur Reyer conducting a small band. They played the music, and the guests sang…
" Masquerade!
Paper faces on parade!
Masquerade!
Hide your face so the world will never find you…
Masquerade!
Every face a different shade!
Masquerade!
Look around, there's another mask behind you…
Flash of mauve,
Splash of puce,
Fool and king,
Ghoul and goose,
Green and black,
Queen and priest,
Trace of rouge,
Face of beast,
Faces!
Take your turn, take a ride
On the merry-go-round
In an inhuman race!
Eye of gold,
True is false,
Who is who?
Curl of lip,
Swirl of gown,
Ace of hearts,
Face of clown,
Faces!
Drink it in, drink it up,
Till you've drowned
In the light,
In the sound…
But who can name the face?
Masquerade!
Grinning yellows, spinning reds,
Masquerade!
Take your fill, let the spectacle astound you…
Masquerade!
Burning glances, turning heads
Masquerade!
Stop and stare at the sea of smiles around you…
Masquerade!
Seething shadows breathing lies,
Masquerade!
You can fool any friend who ever knew you…
Masquerade!
Leering satyrs, peering eyes,
Masquerade!
Run and hide, but a face will still pursue you…"
Carlotta and Piangi, along with the managers descended the great staircase that was in the center of the Foyer. Christine winced as Carlotta began screeching some sort of song, and Piangi and the managers joined in. Meg was spellbound, so Madame Giry took this chance to whisper in Christine's ear. "You go straight back after this, otherwise, you may be trapped here." Christine bowed her head, as if in agreement. 'What if I don't want to go back?" She thought, she had wanted to say it, but a great amount of self control was used to stop herself. They also filed down the stairs, unseen eyes watching them pass by, dancing pairs twirling past them. They reached the bottom of the stairs as the music came to a crescendo.
" Masquerade!
Paper faces on parade!
Masquerade!
Hide your face so the world will never find you!
Masquerade!
Every face a different shade!
Masquerade!
Look around, there's another mask behind you!
Masquerade!
Burning glances, turning heads!
Masquerade!
Stop and stare at the sea of smiles around you!
Masquerade!
Grinning yellows, spinning reds!
Masquerade!
Take your fill, let the spectacle astound you…"
The music died and shrieks and gasps were heard. Christine, Meg and Madame Giry spun around; they too became included in the chorus of gasps. Erik, the Phantom of the Opera was stood, dressed in blood red robes, at the top of an adjoining staircase. He glared at everyone in the room, his fiery eyes only softening when the gazed upon Christine. Her breathing quickened. Erik descended the stairs with wooden steps, people fell over getting out of his way. He began to sing,
"Why so silent, good Messieurs?
Did you think that I had left you for good?
Have you missed me, good Messieurs?
I have written you an opera…
Here, I bring the finished score,
Don Juan Triumphant!"
So saying, he threw a heavily bound book emblazoned with the words 'Don Juan Triumphant'. Firmin gingerly stooped to pick it up, never taking his eyes off Erik. Christine took a few steps forward, entranced by Erik. "Christine! Get back!" Hissed Meg, but Christine couldn't hear her.
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Erik stood in the center of the staircase in the foyer. His dark eyes surveyed the room, taking in every detail. He was dressed in costume, as Red Death to be exact, complete with skull mask covering his deformed face. Erik's eyes rested for a moment on Christine, splendid in a gorgeous ball gown. His pulse raced, his heart burned with desire. He had thought over and over about why she had come to him the night Buquet had been hung. He still had no answer. But he longed to know why, Erik often hoped, deep inside him, he hoped it might be because she loved him. He shook such thoughts from his head, and adopted his most threatening pose. He sang, telling all he had composed an opera. Don Juan Triumphant. It was a master piece, filled with his lust and longing for Christine, and the hate that was given to him by all others. He had worked, six months solid on it, barely stopping to eat or drink. Madame Giry had come down from time to time, to coax food into him, to get him to sleep, even then, it was for a short time. He finished his announcement and looked again at Christine. She had taken a few steps forward, towards him. He looked deep into her eyes.
"I am your Angel of Music,
Come to me, Angel of Music…"
Erik offered his hand and took two steps closer to Christine, his heart thundering in his chest. Christine slowly walked towards him. "Christine, NO!" cried Madame Giry. She broke the spell Erik had weaved over Christine and she spun around. Erik snarled and picked up his trailing cloak. Then he ran to the top of the central staircase, and disappeared in a cloud of flames. Christine spun around again, gazing in horror at the spot where Erik had stood. She ran to the place, smoke still curling into the air. She wanted to go with him, to follow him. Meg and Madame Giry had followed her and they now took each of her arms and took Christine back to the dormitories. "What on earth do you think you were doing!" demanded Madame Giry once they were all inside the dormitory. Christine hung her head and said nothing. She didn't want Madame Giry to know that she planned to stay. Meg sat quietly beside Christine, looking from her mother to Christine. "It wasn't her fault Maman! He put her in a trance!" Meg said suddenly. Madame Giry looked at her. "How do you know that?" She asked her voice like ice. Meg looked down and was silent a moment before answering. "Christine's face..." She said in a tiny voice. "She was out of it…" Madame Giry's features softened. She put an arm around both Meg and Christine. "I'm sorry girls…but I don't want harm to come to either of you…" She said softly. She squeezed their shoulders. "Meg, go back to the party, I think Christine should sleep." Meg opened her mouth to protest, but was silenced by a stern look from her mother. "Fine, I'll go" She said simply as she stalked out of the room. Once she'd gone, Madame Giry turned to Christine. "My dear, sleep. You must return to your time. It's too dangerous here tonight." Christine still looked down, unable to meet Madame Giry's eyes. "Mmm…" she murmured, walking to her cot and getting out her night clothes. Madame Giry bobbed a curtsey and left her. Christine took out her necklace and sat on her cot, holding it. Its coolness soothed her, as it had done so many times before. 'No turning back now…' She thought. Christine could see Louisa discovering her body and the note in her mind's eye. But Christine felt no remorse, she was truly home now. She hastily put the necklace in her clothes chest, under everything else. Christine lay back down and let sleep enfold her.
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