Red Rose

Chapter III: The Other Side of the Mirror

A pier glass, a sofa, a dressing-table and a cupboard was all that was necessary, when it came to furniture. On her walls, hung a few engravings, and a small selection of proud treasures, earned from becoming a dancer. Meg locked the door, giving her and Christine some privacy. "Oh, Christine! It's absolutely wonderful to see you again!"

"Isn't it though? It seems like forever since we last saw one another." She paused as she heard a rustling sound outside the door. "How are things here? I heard Carlotta has left."

"Yes, that is true. She left so suddenly! No one quite understood why." Little Giry smiled warmly at her best friend. "Oh lord, that was the happiest day of our lives. Remember at rehearsals, how some of the ladies used to plug up their ears? Not to mention she was a horrible woman!"

"Why, Meg Giry, I would've never thought to hear such words out of your mouth!" Christine laughed lightly, scooting closer to her on the sofa. "Although, she did have her demands."

"Enough about the opera! Tell me about Roaul; it must be wonderful to be a countess!" Her eyes shone brightly, starring into the heavens sort of dreamily. "He absolutely adores you! No wonder you two married."

Daae looked down at her lap. She made sure that she was to study each individual stitch of her dress before answering. Her lips tried to form the words, which she so desperately wanted to say,

He's been nothing but a child! He hasn't the slightest idea what terrible words he speaks. He has no right to criticize the one who inspired my voice. Doesn't Roaul know the pain inflicted in his words?

Of course, if she were to say that, she be choosing to defend her false friend, and she would not know how Meg, or anyone else for that matter, would interpret that. So, the woman concocted a white lie, which she spoke of uneasily. "We're doing wonderfully!"

"I'm so happy to hear that!" she spoke, holding up the gas-flame, in its gas prison, bringing some light into the surrounding darkness. It was an unusually cloudy morning, for so early in the day. The burst of light splashed over the walls, making it far easier to admire such decorations.

Mme. Chagny's eyes left her clothing and fell upon a white mask, hanging from one of the hooks on the walls. She cocked her head, wondering if she was seeing things.

"I found it…" Meg followed Christine's line of eye sight. The happy smile had gone from her face, as she took on a rather saddened look. "It was the day when he escaped." The dancer girl retrieved it from the wall and watched as the singer traced a finger around the eye hole, and down the bridge of its nose. "Our mob failed in finding him, but I managed to find the mask that he left behind. I found that…" Giry clamped her mouth shut, making the time between her and her friend more serious, more dramatic. "…and a music box."

"Music box?" The countess spoke softly, meeting Meg's eyes, while still stroking the mask as if it were a newborn infant.

She nodded slowly. "Mother has it now; I thought I should give it to her. You know, Christine, he loves you too."

A reddish tone crept across the pupil's face. "What do you mean?" Snapping out of her trance-like state, she placed the mask back on the table in front of her.

"Don't be so embarrassed." She couldn't help but make a small laugh at 'Little Lottie's' actions. "It's perfectly normal to miss that 'Angel of Music', you once told me about." A smooth skinned hand cupped the maiden's cheek. "There is no shame in wanting to see him. Besides," A spare finger wiped away the cold tear that dripped down from Christine's face, "he might want his mask back."

"I'm sure he's gotten himself another one." She smiled weakly, as Meg embraced her.

"Then what will be your excuse when you go back down there?" The blond placed the mask back into her idol's hands, and closed her fingers carefully around it. "Don't you worry, it'll be fine!"

"But-but, Roaul!" She choked out, frightened on how her husband would react. "What if he finds out? He's gone through so much to free me from him! I think he might just go mad if anything happens!"

"Did he talk to the managers?"

"Yes, and they're still arguing about him!" Christine cried.

"I'll cover for you, I promise!" Meg grinned and pushed her from the sofa. "Now, you go into your dressing room, and don't you come back until something interesting happens!" And with that, the dancer shooed her friend out of the room, giggling.

So back into the dressing room she went. Quickly, she slid the giant mirror open and closed it, without making a sound. It was the same as before, cobwebs, the occasional roaming rats, nothing she was that scared of. Down once more to that dungeon which she knew too well. Her pulse was racing within her. Yes, there were still those burning candles. The flames were glowing with a vibrant red. They were placed all around, and for one of the first times, Miss. Daae realized just how romantic it was. The piano rested lonely on the bank of the lake. She ran her fingertips over the ivory keys. It was true. He had stopped playing, for dust had collected on her skin. She sat down on the bench, which now seemed so cold through the fabric of her dress. Her eyes started to tear; music just wasn't magical if he wasn't there to play it.

"Chris…tine…?" A figure emerged from the darkness. There was a look of plain surprise upon his half-covered face. Just as she thought, he had found another mask. "What are you doing here?" The phantom spoke coolly, making her feel as though she was no longer wanted.

Christine put the mask on the top of his piano. "Roaul and I-well, I came back to the Opera…" Her brown eyes avoided his gaze. "I wanted to see you, again. I missed you."

"And so, you bring a mask. Is it for your own protection?" He said with bitterness, yet that only covered up the immense hurt he was feeling inside. He stepped back into the shadows, repelling himself from her. "I see I am nothing but a beast to you…"

"No! That's not it at all!" She sprung from the bench and made her way towards him. "That was only an excuse to make my way down here, it means nothing to me!"

"You lie, Madame."

"You dare accuse me of lying?" She bit hard on her lip. "Do you truly hate me so?"

Silence.

"…I believe it is you who hate me, Mme. Chagny." He spoke these words so coldly, it scent a chill up her spine. "Go, now. You've done so before." The man had made a vow and he swore to himself that he would keep it.

"Why, my angel-"

At this, the 'specter' turned around, and for the first time, she saw total and complete sadness all over his face. "Don't feed yourself lies, child. I am no angel. If you must address me by name, call me Opera Ghost. It seems fitting enough."

She shook her head and grabbed onto his arm with all her might. He hadn't expected such strength from such a little body. "I won't have it! You must have a name, a real name. Please, tell me! That's all I ask! Master, do tell me your name!" New tears had formed just as the old ones had dried. They poured like warm streams from her eyes, and traveled to the sleeves that she had gripped.

No, I can not give in to her! I mustn't! Why, my god, do you torture an angel of hell? His blue eyes gazed down at the woman which would have to be pried from him. This little thing, this little favor she asked, perhaps it was all she wanted. This lonesome carcass wished nothing more than to make her happy until the world's end. To hold her tightly when she needed comfort was a vision he often had. To become one with such a magnificent child was his most desirable dream. He knew that these things would always remain sweet, sweet dreams, and he loathed himself for it. The least this hopeless lover could do was tell the woman he loved his name.

"My name…"

Christine opened her eyes and gazed up at him. He remained focused on the object in front of him.

"is Erik…"

……………..

Done! Do review; I'm so proud of this chapter. Thank you so much for the tons of reviews from the last. You made me most happy. Now, excuse me while I go praise my lovely Erik!