Authoress' Notes: Oi, here we go again...ALW and M. Leroux own the PotO characters, not me. Get it? NOT me!

Thoughts

--

A Twist of Faith
Chapter Three: Accidentals
--

Reluctantly, the mist of sleep dissipated from Elaine and she stirred gently. She stretched like a cat and yawned. Reaching into her pocket, she fished around for her watch. It was two in the afternoon. She had an hour before rehearsals. Not too late, but it was time to face the music...and Reyer.

Untangling herself from the hammock, she set her feet on the ground and stretched more fully. She rubbed her eyes and walked lazily to her violin. Withdrawing a tiny brass key from her pocket, she unlocked it with a click. She drew it out of the soft crimson velvet and admired the sweet brown color of the wood.

This was the same violin her papa had bought her four years ago. She remembered the first time she tried to play it. One of the strings broke. She was so upset that she nearly gave up. But Papa came to the rescue, drying her tears. He showed her how to cradle it under her chin, how to draw the bow across the gilded strings. He was her strength to continue.

She smiled remembering. Papa was always strong. Her mama was spirited, but Papa was strength in its true form. He was the best, dedicated, grounded in love and never backed away from anything. She learned from him, taking a little of him with her when she left home.

"Have a strong heart, 'Lainie," he told her as she boarded the carriage. "Live life to the fullest and you'll reap the finest rewards. And always remember Mama. Jacqueline always gave everyone a chance. Never turn your head from a stranger or be quick to judge."

When she was fifteen, her mother had taken ill with a strange malady. None of the doctors had ever seen it before, and although it didn't seem contagious, they committed her to bed-rest. After about two months of vigil, it became clear that she wouldn't survive.

Elaine was very distraught, but looking at her mother's strong, steady smile everyday gave her a little hope. When Elaine was on an errand for her, she passed a street performer—a ragged old man who was playing a violin for spare francs, but Elaine was enchanted. How such music could come from such a simple looking instrument escaped her. But that day, she wanted to find out.

She told her mother, who just smiled feverishly and squeezed her hand three times; she was too weak to speak then, so that was how they said "I love you". She took lessons with her father every other day, leaving the remainder of the week to paint. She'd finished the oval portrait of her mother after she'd been ill for eight months. When Elaine went to show her the finished product, Jacqueline was so weak she could barely turn her head. Elaine felt the tears prickling behind her golden eyes as she told her mother how much she was loved. Slowly, her mother's thin black brows went up and down three times, and Elaine burst into tears. Two days later, she was completely gone.

"Remember Mama 'Lainie."

"I will remember Papa," she breathed, a tear rolling down her cheek. She brushed it away and stood up to leave, when something caught her eye. An ivory envelope lay where her case had been. She stooped down and picked it up, turning it over in her hands. The deep red ink bore her name in fine handwriting and she opened it, intrigued. Inside was a letter on black edged parchment in the same red ink:

Dear Mlle. Tourouse,

I trust that you are comfortable here in my opera house. I have heard you play and I have also witnessed how you handled Carlotta and M. Gallin and I must say you astound me. It appears that we have much in common. I hope that I am not being too forward, but I would appreciate it if we could somehow arrange a meeting. Please write your answer on the back of this letter and place it behind the gray marble column in the right wing.
Your obedient servant,
O.G.

Elaine blinked. O.G.? His opera house? And how did he see her with Gallin? She looked at the parchment and a small smile crept over her face. He wanted to meet her, and it was up to her. She turned it over in her head. Perhaps he was an actor or a stagehand, just a regular. What would be the harm in a friendly meeting?

She sat down at her vanity and penned her answer, the smile still lingering on her lips. Her first attempt at making friends had failed, now someone else was taking the first step. She slipped it into the envelope and laid it in her case. Glancing at her watch she found she still had fifteen minutes. Still plenty of time but she decided to show up early. She unlatched the door and walked happily towards the stage.

She was in such a good mood, that she hadn't stopped to wonder: If the door was locked, how did she receive her letter?

--

When Elaine reached the stage, she was surprised to see only a handful of people there; herself, at least half of the orchestra, and a small knot of chorus girls. Gallin gave her an icy stare, and in response she gave him a sly wink, a wicked smile on her lips. She thought she saw him startle a little before turning away. She smiled, emerging triumphant again.

"Hello there!"

She spun around at the sound of her name. A short distance away was the small group of ballet girls, the eldest looking girl waving at her. She smiled brightly and went to introduce herself.

"Hello, I'm Meg Giry, lead dancer," said the slender sweet-faced blonde-haired woman who had waved.

"Hi Meg," Elaine said, holding out her hand. "I'm..."

"Elaine, we know," she found herself cut off by the tall redhead behind Meg, "I'm Rachelle."

"Oh, hello...how do you know me?"

A dainty brunette with blue eyes piped up, "We saw how you handled La Carlotta yesterday! You're really something!"

"Am I?" Elaine asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"What Jeanette means is that it's rather difficult to get Carlotta to shut her constantly open mouth," Rachelle explained.

Elaine shrugged, "She's a stuck-up old cow. Doesn't take much to bring them off of their high ivory towers."

This set the whole circle giggling. "You think she's an old cow now, wait for rehearsals to start!" one girl exclaimed, earning an elaborate groan from Jeanette.

"Cheer up," she said, casting her eyes up, "Maybe she'll start croaking again!" For emphasis, she began croaking like a toad, sending a fresh wave of giggles through her friends.

"Yes, maybe the Opera Ghost will return!" Rachelle threw out, tossing her head back and laughing villainously. Meg elbowed her and told her to hush.

Opera Ghost? Elaine thought, her grin vanishing. O.G.?

Meg noted her fading smile, "Alright that's enough talk of Opera Ghosts. Look now, you've gotten her all nervous..."

The girls stopped, but not because of Meg. Reyer had just entered the auditorium and did not look too pleased with the miniscule amount of the company who had arrived. "We will simply start without the remainder of this company!" he shouted over all the chatter. The group dispersed, leaving Meg and Elaine alone.

Elaine rolled her shoulders back to relieve the sudden tightness in her neck. She couldn't shed the uneasiness that made her mouth feel dry.

"Elaine? Are you all right?" Meg asked as she sat on the floor to stretch.

Elaine looked earnestly at her new friend, "No Meg, I'm not."

Meg motioned for her to sit down next to her. "What's the matter? Are you worried about Reyer?"

Elaine shook her head, pulling her knees to her chin, "No, I find that I kind of like Reyer. He's so energetic. I'll bet no one slacks off here."

Meg shook her strawberry curls. "No, and if they did they'd get a verbal thrashing. And you don't want that, believe me." Elaine chuckled and sighed. Meg's brow creased, "Elaine, what's wrong?"

Elaine debated a moment, wondering if she should tell Meg. Then she set her lips tight and took a deep breath. "Meg, how long have you been here, at the opera?"

"About five years, why?"

"So you'd probably know just about everyone here, who's come and gone?" Meg nodded slowly, a flash of worry crossing her face. Elaine reached into her pocket and produced a creamy envelope and handed it to Meg. "I received this, and he sounded as if he's here regularly. I figured he was a singer or a..."

"O.G.!" Meg said a little too loudly, making Elaine start. "Mon dieu...I was sure that...When did you get this?" she asked, her hand shaking as she handed the letter back to Elaine.

Elaine felt her face go pale at Meg's gravity. "Well I don't know when he dropped it off, but I found it about five minutes before I arrived here," she explained, a faint smile curling her lips. "He sounded polite enough, so I thought..."

"Elaine!" Meg whispered earnestly, cutting her musings short. Her eyes were wide and scared. "I think you've been visited by the Opera Ghost..."

--

God no! No, you little brat! Don't, you'll frighten her!

High above them on the rafters, Erik's mind silently screamed at Meg as she began storytelling. He was so close to meeting a kindred soul and this blasted story had to come up. It can't end before it begins! He was somewhat relieved when the dancer left out certain...select details...but he was certain the girl would be too afraid to consider meeting him.

Back on the stage, Elaine's bright eyes grew wider and more intrigued as Meg spun her tale. When she'd finished, she finally let out a long sigh, as if exhausted with the bizarre tale she'd just heard. "Wow...you're not kidding?" Meg shook her head very seriously and Erik's heart fell like a stage weight. "He really dropped a scenery flat on La Carlotta?" Erik's ears pricked up at the mild amusement in her soft voice.

"Well...no, actually he missed her."

"Well, drat then! I hope the scenery wasn't damaged," she pouted jokingly.

Meg's eyes and Erik's flew wide. "Wh-what..." Meg breathed aghast.

Elaine grinned, "Well, it wouldn't have been such a loss really, would it?"

Meg giggled behind her hand, "No, I guess not."

So Elaine, you are not afraid of me? Erik's mind asked her with a hopeful smile.

"So, you're not scared?" Meg asked, unwittingly voicing his thoughts.

Elaine smiled, "No, not really. Not that your story didn't surprise me, but I see no reason not to meet your Ghost."

Meg frowned, concerned with her friend's decision. "Just be careful, promise?" she asked, holding out her little finger to Elaine.

"Promise," Elaine answered, linking their fingers. Off to the side, Reyer clapped his hands sharply to call everyone to rehearse. Meg and the other dancers scampered off to the ballet mistress.

Elaine picked up her case and walked briskly towards the orchestra pit. On her way, she passed the gray column. She paused and removed the letter from her pocket, placing it back in the envelope. She placed it towards the back so no one would take it. No one but her Opera Ghost.

The first hour of rehearsals passed lethargically if at all. The opera was Puccini's "Gianni Schicchi", foreign to Elaine, but nonetheless beautiful, and she picked up on it fairly easily. She was disgusted with playing at the same time as Gallin. Several times he turned to her and leered or glared convinced he was the better player. But he played too stiffly for the romance of the music, and she played all the better, undaunted by his arrogance.

She winced when Carlotta practiced her aria, and she politely suppressed a gag. Thankfully, the song was short, but the overdone diva butchered every note either way. The song was supposed to be sweet and tender, as Laurette pleads with her father Gianni to allow her to marry her true love. Even I could sing it better, she thought.

"Atención!" Reyer barked, snapping her out of her thoughts. He didn't look too pleased. "You must all watch your accidentals! One of the violins was dragging behind here!" he stabbed at the music with a finger. Gallin swiveled his head to Elaine and smirked in pompous victory. Elaine frowned and glanced at Reyer.

She almost laughed and let her eyes direct Gallin back to Reyer, who was shooting daggers at him. "Monsieur Gallin! You will cease gazing over your shoulder and pay attention!" he bellowed, and Elaine watched with glee as Gallin's face went white as a sheet. "Even if you are the lead violinist, you must not take the music at your own speed! You would do well to learn a few things from your alternate, Mlle. Tourouse there! She keeps her eyes on her music!" Marque's face regained a hint of red and looked as if he might choke. Elaine grinned at Reyer and he nodded approvingly back, but did not smile. "We will take it from the top, and you, M. Gallin, will not play! You will sit and listen to the orchestra play and find a way to match tempo! Mlle. Tourouse, you alone will play the leading part."

Elaine nodded solemnly, even though her heart was doing cartwheels of triumph. Rage ran crimson all over Gallin's face and he glared at her with bitter hatred. Elaine just shrugged and smiled sweetly.

The opera went very smoothly from that point, except for Carlotta whose voice was—not surprisingly—beginning to get raw, but Reyer wasn't going to stop for her. Finally, Reyer brought his hands down, sweat glistening on his forehead. "Very good, all of you! Brava!" The company absolutely beamed, all except Gallin, who still bore thunderheads in his eyes. "You may all take an hour!" Select cheers went up and some got up to leave, but were stopped abruptly, "But I warn anyone who is late! You will not be taken gently!" he snapped, turned on his heel and walked off. This struck a chord in everyone, and even Carlotta looked apprehensive. After a moment of silence, the company dispersed into ragged groups.

Elaine placed her violin back into the case and ascended the stage, looking for the ballet girls. Gallin was walking towards her glowering in humiliation. She gave him a pout. "Oh, did poor baby get scolded?" she asked in mock pity. As he passed her, he stuck his foot underneath hers, causing her to stumble and almost drop her violin. She fairly panicked and struggled to regain control. When the violin case was safe, she hugged it protectively to her breast. She turned her head to Gallin, her eyes blazing. "I will remember that m'sieur. You will pay," she growled.

"I'd advise that you watch your step, mam'selle. Accidents are known to happen around here," he said in feigned concern, walking away into the shadows. Elaine shuddered, made a soft sound of repulsion, and went to find Meg. As she passed the column, she bent down to check on her letter, but it was no longer there. Her heart jumped, but she calmed herself quickly. My mysterious O.G. must've claimed it already; nothing to worry about.'

"Elaine, over here!" She looked up to see Jeanette waving at her with the group close by. She grinned and walked towards them. Then her eyes widened and she stopped. She'd heard something over her head: a soft creaking sound. Bits of dust and splinters floated down into her hair.

Then there was a loud snap and she leapt to her right into a discarded curtain.

"Elaine!" Meg screamed as the massive sandbag slammed into the hardwood where her friend had been standing only seconds ago. She raced to her side, the group following close at her heels. "Elaine! Are you alright?"

"Who's up there?"

"Say something!"

"My God she's so pale!"

Elaine's gazed all around her, from Meg to the girls to the sandbag and back again. "I'm- I'm okay, I'm just..."Her head swam and she closed her eyes.

"She's going to faint!" Rachelle gasped, trying to steady her.

"No, I'll be alright. I-I need something to drink," she croaked, her body shaking violently.

"Get some water, hurry!" Meg ordered, settling next to her to try and calm her.

Soon Elaine stopped shaking and breathed deeper. All around her, the girls chattered of the Opera Ghost, Meg and Rachelle doing their best to hush them. Elaine was lost in her own thoughts. Nothing to worry about, eh? That was too close. Who would want to...no. No, he wouldn't. Accidents... that BASTARD!

--

Time for him to die! He's a dead man!

Those were the only words running through Erik's enraged mind, spurring him on to find Gallin.

He'd been watching Elaine from above with contentment when some movement caught his eye. He watched as the violinist unsheathed his knife and severed the rope holding the sandbag. Thank God, she had fine reflexes; in his position, he couldn't have stopped Gallin or saved Elaine in time. Now his inner voice screamed for justice. That wretched vermin had just tried to murder a girl who had done no harm, besides to his pride.

He suddenly stopped his relentless pursuit of Gallin and smiled, remembering how she'd stifled her laughter to show Gallin who Reyer was cross with, how the arrogant twit had paled under the criticism.

Then he realized something amazing. He no longer had the desire to kill Gallin. In the old days, he would have snapped his neck without a thought. But now, after Elaine had just heard about his doings as the Opera Ghost, such a deed would destroy his every chance of meeting her. Still, something had to be done. Marque Gallin no longer deserved to touch an instrument or have anything to do with his opera.

His dark and brilliant mind began its work and he chuckled, feeling a bit of his old Opera Ghost spirit returning. He'd just formed a plan that would satisfy him and, perhaps, please Elaine as well.

--

"Alright everyone! Return to your places at once!" Reyer bellowed over everyone's babble. Gradually, the company filled their positions and Gallin snarled when he saw Elaine sit down to tune her violin. Obviously he'd missed his target, but next time he'd be more direct.

"Now from the top, two beats and start. Ready, one and two and..."

But the rehearsal never went any further. There was a shrill scream from a chorus girl and a great commotion in the pit as the sandbag plummeted down onto Gallin. He cried out in surprise and then in pain as the weight pinned his hands to the ground and crushed into his bones.

"He's back! Il fantasma dell'opera!" Carlotta shrieked and ran for the door hysterically.

"Back away! Give us space!" barked Reyer. "Pierre, help me with this weight!"

"Get it off me! Get it off!" Gallin wailed and Elaine couldn't help but cringe.

Soon the bag was removed from him, but at a glance it was clear that his hands and wrists were badly broken. An examination of the bag revealed the reason; there was a thick metal plate fastened onto the bottom. Inscribed on the canvas bag was a hastily written message in red ink, which Reyer read aloud.

"'Life may not be served on golden plates monsieur, but iron justice is served in such ways! - O.G.'"

Elaine gasped and swayed back gently into Meg's supporting hands. "M-Monsieur Reyer? M-may I be excused? Please?" she tried to keep her voice steady but failed miserably.

"What? Oh! Oh, yes, err, all of you may leave! We will pick up tomorrow at three!"

Everyone scattered quickly, all clamoring and talking at once. Elaine walked slowly back to her room, a smile spreading across her face. Why am I smiling? she asked herself. Is it because I really don't care? Did I want it to happen? A thousand puzzling thoughts swirled together in her mind. So painful...so precise...so...ironic. She thought, her smile widening.

Halfway down the hall, she began to laugh softly as she entered the room and closed the door. She struggled through fits of laughter, "If you're listening, that was beautiful."

From behind the wall, Erik grinned. He had been correct in his assumptions. And this...unfortunate incident didn't look to impede their eventual meeting. The faint crinkle of paper in his breast pocket reminded him of her response. He might be jumping to conclusions about this meeting. He'd been so...preoccupied that he'd neglected to read it.

Dear O.G.,

You are not being too forward at all. I would love to meet you. Tomorrow night at eight, meet me onstage. Thank you for the compliments.

Cordially,
Elaine

Erik's eyes glittered in the dark. Tomorrow night... he could barely breathe. He looked at it again.

"I would love to meet you."

That was all Erik ever wanted to hear.

--
((To be continued. Okay so far?))