A/N: Somehow I think you'll manage to forgive me for the lapse in time here. I could have gone into great detail about how Erik made his costume, carved his mask, etc. etc. etc., but I decided against it to avoid yet another filler. So we're jumping about a day ahead to the night of the Bal Masque here. I'll leave the rest up to your imaginations.
For those of you who have been missing our Chrissy dearest… ahem… she's baaack! –shakes head in despair-
Oh! One last thing before I leave you alone and let you read. For those of you who have so PATIENTLY (ahem- NOT! lol) been awaiting that E/C I promised you after chapter 23, it's now posted. –trumpets randomly strike up an announcing tune- Ladies and gentlemen, "Evergreen" is now up and running to sate your E/C needs. :D
Okay, done plugging. Read on, my lovelies!
Disclaimer: To quote my beta and favorite phanphic authoress: "People! Seriously!"
Ten minutes in my Red Death costume, and already I was sweltering.
The red suit had been easy enough to obtain; there were six vaults in the first cellar alone, stuffed to the brim with a random array of costumes, wigs, furniture, sets, strings of lights, and almost any other prop imaginable. It was there that I had found the quintessential outfit: a one-piece velvet suit the color of fresh blood, finely embroidered with gold silk along the front and sleeves. The collar was a bit extravagant (the costume had originally been used to clothe a wealthy duke in Don Pasquale a few years back), but a few deft snips along the hem had relieved me of the ridiculous Elizabethan ruffles. Still, the inner seams were rough and uncomfortable against my bare skin, so I had quickly donned a white tunic and a pair of tight leather pants to make the costume more bearable.
It had taken very little time at all to realize that I would probably pass out from the heat before the night was over. In the cool, dark passages I was grateful for the extra fabric; it was December, and the cellars were immensely frigid, especially after nightfall. But once I reached the small room above the chandelier in the main lobby, I quickly removed my black cravat and mask for fear that I would begin to perspire and smudge my carefully applied makeup (compliments of Carlotta). The managers had the furnaces blasting in the vents, and the warm air from the lobby drifted upwards to hover in the stifling room. I tilted my head back to expose my bare neck, fanning myself lazily with my discarded skeleton mask.
Guests poured into the front entrance by the dozen, their voices reverberating on the polished marble. The orchestra had already begun to play an old German waltz, but a quick peek through the hole in the ceiling confirmed that no one was dancing yet. I was not surprised; I knew the routine well. The men would sweep in with their wives on their arms and deposit their coats in the cloakroom before promptly ordering their drinks. After they had bumped shoulders with a few of their peers over their wives' curve-hugging, shimmering gold dresses, they would dismiss the women to find their own friends and gossip merrily over light champagne. It would be another hour or two before the dancing actually began; the orchestra simply provided background music for now.
I listened with half an ear as Andre and Firmin burst through the entrance below me, congratulating one another on the night's blatant success.
Dear Andre, what a splendid party!
The prologue to a bright new year…
Quite a night, I'm impressed!
Andre feigned modesty, grinning from ear to ear as if he, not Giry, had organized the entire event. Well, one does one's best!
Here's to us! They toasted together.
The toast of all the city
What a pity that the Phantom can't be here!
I sighed, resisting the urge to rub my face in frustration. It was laughably ironic, really, but the scorching heat was making me irritable; I was not in the mood for their jibes.
After another few moments of shifting my weight in a fruitless attempt to find a comfortable position, I got to my feet with an aggravated moan and snatched up my discarded costume pieces and leather-bound opera. I smirked at the cover as I walked, running my gloved fingers over the embossed title.
Don Juan Triumphant!
O.G.
I had done very few things in my life as satisfying as burning my initials into the vicomte's expensive saddle with a white-hot brand.
Now if it had only been HIS hide…
I cut the thought off abruptly and choked on a laugh. I thrust open the door to the room, replacing my mask and cravat before stalking off resolutely toward the dormitories. Perhaps I could sneak in one quick glance of Christine in her beautiful new gown before crashing the Bal Masque…
But before I could even reach the edge of the auditorium, a brief snippet of conversation from the managers' office snagged my attention, and I pressed my ear to the stone wall to try and catch the rest.
Firmin and Andre had apparently gathered a small staff party, and had just broken out a bottle of champagne.
"Madame Giry, Monsieur Reyer, Signora Giudicelli, Signore Piangi," Firmin began while his partner poured champagne concurringly, "It has been an honor working with you these past few months!"
"Business has never been better…" Andre continued, pouring glasses for himself and his partner. "Have you seen the queue of carriages outside?" he crowed. "The guest list is over 500 names long!"
"And more are still flooding in," Firmin added.
"And zat lying bitch, Zorelli, iz gone for good!" Carlotta chimed in happily.
"Along with that damned O.G.!" Firmin bellowed, followed by a roar of laughter.
"Ah yes, I 'ad forgotten our friend ze Phantom!" Piangi chuckled.
"To O.G., then!" Firmin toasted, followed by a murmur of amused consent from his colleagues. "I hope he's off enjoying himself, haunting someplace else!"
"To O.G.!" the others echoed, followed by more laughter and the clinking of glasses.
I rolled my eyes, a smirk painted across my face. Half of me wanted to drop a match on Andre's poof of hair or flicker the lights and drop another salary reminder on their desk at that very moment, but I refrained merely for the sake of doubling the surprise later in the evening.
"Oh, the Opera Ghost will have a splendid time haunting tonight," I whispered as I turned away. "But he's not going anywhere." And with a whirl of my cloak I crept off to continue my search for Christine.
She was not in her dressing room, as I had expected, and I turned away from the mirror a few minutes later with a dejected sigh. Knowing Christine, she was probably in the main lobby on the arm of her precious vicomte. I sneered at the thought, storming off down the nearest hall to investigate.
The orchestra had struck up a very familiar tune by the time I once again reached the stuffy room above the chandelier. An assembly of black, white, and gold-clad chorus members had taken their positions in the center of the room while the guests gathered in the balconies above or along the sidelines to watch the opening dance. I lay on my stomach above them, absently drumming out the rhythm of the music on the floorboards as they burst into song and dance on cue.
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
I had to admit, the chorus had improved considerably in the two days since I had overheard their appalling rehearsal. My gaze roamed the room curiously for any sign of Giry, but she was nowhere to be seen. Probably still in the office, then, though it was unusual for her to keep such poor company.
Eye of gold, thigh of blue
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
'Til you've drowned in the light,
In the sound,
But who can name the face?
Despite myself, I found that I was lipping along absently, a small smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. Much as I hated to admit it, I loved to see my work being appreciated by those whom I loathed… those elite pigs who now stared with wide, sparkling eyes at the spectacle I had created for them.
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
Suddenly the crowd from the managers' office appeared at the top of the stairs, accompanied by little Meg. Carlotta and Piangi strutted down the stairs in flashy gold costumes, followed by the managers (to my never-ending amusement, dressed as a ram and a cock, respectively) and the Girys. Everyone wore a large smile as they ascended the steps into the center of the dance, still congratulating themselves on organizing such a successful event (of course, due credit was never properly bestowed with that lot). They burst into an overlapping secession of song which grew increasingly insufferable by the moment.
What a night!
What a crowd!
Makes you glad;
Makes you proud
All the crème de la crème
Watching us, watching them
And all our fears are in the past!
Three months
Of relief!
Of delight!
Of Elysian peace!
And we can breathe at last
No more notes
No more ghosts
Here's a health
Here's a toast
To a prosperous year
To our friends who are here
And may our splendor never fade!
What a joy
What a change
What a blessed relief
And what a Masquerade!
About halfway through their self-centered little banter, I spotted Christine enter in the far corner of the room (on the vicomte's arm, as I had suspected), staring around at the gathered crowd with an expression of pleasant surprise. Within seconds I had climbed to my feet, swept out the door and raced across the ceiling to the opposite side of the room, where I climbed down a trap door to stand just a few meters away from her. We were separated only by a thin wall; I could hear every word that escaped her lips, and through a thin crack in the seam of the marble I could see her clearly as well.
Think of it—
A secret engagement
Look, your future bride!
Just think of it…
I inhaled sharply, clenching my teeth in rage. For a moment I closed my eyes, reminding myself that I had only a few more moments until I interrupted the masquerade and met with her face-to-face...
"But why is it secret? What have we to hide?" Raoul sulked. "You promised me—"
My spine went perfectly rigid as he attempted to kiss her, but a triumphant smirk worked its way across my face as she jerked away. "No Raoul, please don't, they'll see…" Christine's voice trembled ever so slightly in fear. This was very good news, indeed. She knew that I was watching… her Angel saw and heard everything, and she feared my displeasure. Terrible things happened when her Angel was angered…
"Well then let them see! It's an engagement, not a crime," Raoul insisted as if he were talking to a retarded child. He suspected, then… and still thought it childish for his fiancé to believe in angels. Christine, what are you afraid of?
Let's not argue… Christine offered diplomatically as she began to walk toward the main floor, where the guest couples had finally begun to dance.
Let's not argue… Raoul concurred before their voices rose in a duet.
Please pretend; you will / I can only hope I'll
Understand in time!
I clenched my hands into fists until the nails dug painfully into my palms, turning away from the scene in disgust. I could not stand to see the couple so aggravatingly happy while I suffered.
The orchestra had reached a long instrumental, and the chorus members broke into an extravagant dance, frolicking about the main room, winding in and out of one another in intricate patterns. Giry had truly outdone herself… I would grant her that, if begrudgingly. The snide comments about my absence for the past few months had left me feeling bitter resentment towards my "old friend," but I could not deny that when it came to arranging dazzling performances, she was unrivaled.
Although my heart ached to watch that boy twirl my beloved Christine around the room, my eyes thirsted for her perfect form. Six weeks had gone by without a single glimpse of those silken curls and porcelain skin, those rosy cheeks and wide brown eyes. I was starved for Christine; I needed to watch her, to drink in the sight of her as if it would satiate my lonely soul. And watch her I did, until the music reached a brilliant, trumpeting crescendo, and the boy held her close, his lips lowering to catch hers in a brief but passionate kiss.
I suddenly snapped back to reality, fury and adrenaline surging through my veins like powerful drugs. Enough was enough. The time had come at last to reclaim the power which was rightfully mine… the Phantom of the Opera had remained quiet far too long.
My cloak whipped out behind me as I climbed back up through the trap door and made my way toward the top of the grand staircase. Beneath my feet the walls throbbed to the tempo of the blaring trumpets as the chorus' voice rose once more.
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
I hesitated for a moment before slipping quietly out of a door fashioned seamlessly into the wall. Those who were closest to me were absorbed in the dancing, and paid me no heed whatsoever. Slowly and silently, so as not to attract premature attention, I crept toward the top of the staircase, unfurling the long velvet cape from my waist so it cascaded on the floor behind me. I paused just behind the large pillar, my eyes roaming the room as I allowed the chorus to finish one final verse…
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…
Then, taking a deep breath, I took a bold step forward to stand in plain view of the entire gathered audience. I held my chin high with a confidence I did not feel as the music died, meeting the terrified stares around the room with a defiant glare. There was a collective gasp, and all went silent. No one moved or breathed… they were all waiting on me. For once, little Meg Giry did not pipe up with a comment about the Phantom of the Opera; she did not need to. They knew. They all knew.
The Opera Ghost had come at last to fulfill his promise.
A/N: -can do nothing but shake head and point- This. Is. INCREDIBLE. Almost TWO FULL PAGES OF REVIEWS for one measly chapter? And a FILLER at that? You guys rock, really and truly rock, but…but… -whimpers and stops before I get more objects hurled at me- Will a humongous "thank you" cover it? No? How about "thank you" and seventeen trays of fresh, hot, gooey cookies? Will that do? –puts them up for grabs-
Moonjava: Thanks, hon! Glad you like it. :)
Arwen1604: I made your day? –feels all shiny- Aww, wow. Thanks! LOL… yeah, it doesn't get much better than Erik mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.
Noelle: -ducks and catches it- HA! Feeble attempts, my dear! You're gonna have to throw more than that to get me to admit defeat! LOL… alright, I will agree with you on that ONE POINT… I'm pretty sure the phangirls enjoyed the bath scene. BUT I could have written it terribly, no grammar, no spacing, NADA, and they'd still love it, merely because it's Erik in a freezing cold pool of water. –grins- So… really, that speaks nothing of my writing ability. Sorry. Better luck next time, though! ;) Oh! And people, go and read her story and REVIEW… it's phreakin hysterical!
RainsPhantom: -blushes- Fantastic? Wow… that's a strong adjective right there. How about "okay" or "decent" or maybe even "acceptable"? LOL. Either way, I'm glad you reviewed… I know, right after vacation is the hardest time to do ANYTHING but laze around… I just got back from the beach boardwalk and had ten people on my back begging me to update both stories, so I not only had to review my favorites, but WRITE my own… -sighs- LOL. I know how it is, and the feedback is always treasured. Thanks so much! (And yes, there's going to be a swordfight, and YES to your unanswered question, Erik WILL put a big bleeding gash in Raoul's arm. haha)
Haizea: LOL… you are SUCH a sweetie, you know that? You make me laugh, which is quite an accomplishment this early in the morning (pre-coffee, don'tcha know?). I know, I know, I'm VERY sorry about the slow updates, but finals are over now… heck, SCHOOL is over now, for the next two months. That means eight glorious weeks of regular updates on both stories. I love writing them, and APPARENTLY you –cough-crazy people-cough- enjoy reading them, so it's good for everyone, no?
LePetiteChristine: HAHA… yeah, Hil, you're right, the torture chamber was your idea. –bows to your brilliance- Glad you liked the longer chapter. This one isn't short, but it's not quite as long as the previous one. And WHEN are you updating, little missy? I've been waiting oh-so-patiently… I'm gonna have to start bugging you or poking you or making you sing or something… bwahaha!
Marianne Brandon: Yes, I love mischievous Erik too. :) Oh wait, I love ALL versions of Erik… haha… but yes, he's best when he's sneaky. There's just something shudder-worthy about him stalking around the Opera in the cloak of night, taking a saddle here, a flask of gunpowder there… lol. Thanks so much… your support means everything to me. Your praise is like… second best to Gerry himself dropping by my house to congratulate me on writing this story. –snorts- Yeah RIGHT! LOL. But seriously, thank you so much, Em. Coming from you, praise is both stunning and unbelievably flattering. Just don't be afraid to criticize too:)
Ever Rin: It was your review which spurred me to action on that E/C, you know. Hope it lives up to your expectations. :) Ooh, I'm glad you liked the saddle part. I had to give Erik SOME way to lash out at Raoul. Lol.
Mel: Thank you:D Unfortunately, no… this story is going to follow the movie storyline, and I can't change the ending. :( However, if you're looking for a happy-ending E/C, I posted one specifically for that purpose. Mmk?
Lady G: -laughs and rolls eyes- Ah, Lyss, what to say, what to say? You know you love Erik… he's irresistible. LOL. Thanks for the reminder. I know the "which" rule (my AP English teacher covered it countless times), but I was pretty tired when I wrote that chapter and didn't bother to proofread. Haha. I'll go back and edit ALL of the chappies this summer for little grammatical errors throughout the phic. Again, thanks for the note—it's good that SOMEONE'S catching my stupid errors! Lol
Shadow Fox Forever: -bows at your feet- THANK YOU! Omg, FINALLY someone agrees with me and has the nerve to say it! I was totally disappointed in that chapter… haha, you probably didn't expect me to be like PRAISING you for disliking it, but I AM. LOL. Thank you SO MUCH for being honest! Woo hoo! Take THAT, Noelle!
Sakume: Aww, you're so sweeeet! –beams- Yeah, I suppose you're right… it's not about me liking it, it's about the readers, and if you're happy, I'm happy. :) Erik appreciated the towel, btw… I've hidden all of mine from him so he has to air dry. Muahaha! LOL.
Joanieponytail: -happy sigh- How do you manage it, Joanie? Even when I feel like I've completely screwed up a chapter, you come along and leave me this beautiful, detailed review and I feel like I'm accepting the Pulitzer. I can't express how much I treasure your feedback. That said, I've never in my life had to put "eat something?" on a to-do list either. Silly Erik! ;P I cringed while writing Erik's bath too… haha. 'Nough said.
The Cure: -does new reviewer dance- Thank you so much:D
DaydreamingTurtle: -smiles- OMG, there is no better compliment on that chapter, because that's EXACTLY what I was trying for. Erik pulls so many unbelievable stunts throughout the course of the film, and I do my best to find suitable explanations for them. He IS human, and while his VOICE may be magical, he doesn't have super powers. He has to work with the same limitations that everyone else does, along with the extra burden of his face. He's just exceptionally intelligent. Lol. Thanks a ton… you've made my day:) And no, to answer your question, I haven't read it; I did a bit of historical research on the time period and thought it might be plausible for a landmark such as the opera house to be used as a secret bunker. –shrugs and smiles-
Seablue4u: Thanks:) –does new reviewer dance again- I wish I could… -points to Gaston and Andy- It's THEIR fault, I tell you! I didn't write the story! If I did, there would have been a much more likeable heroine than Christine and she would have chosen Erik over Raoul, alas it's not mine. :( -tear-
Adlyb: LOL. I know, I'm rather confusing, aren't I? I think the problem with people not understanding this story is that I broke away for those "three months of relief, of delight" and added in my own scenes. Let me clarify. This is based on the storyline of Andrew Lloyd Webber's Phantom of the Opera movie/musical. I'm including all of the scenes from the film (well, at least those which include Erik) and additional scenes to fill the time gaps. There are a few references to Kay and Leroux in there as well, but nothing too major. For example, I debated whether or not to include Nadir for awhile, and finally decided against it. Anyway, now those "three months" are over, and I'm back to the original storyline. From here on out, it'll be all ALW until the very, very end. I hope that makes a bit more sense… haha. –does new reviewer dance- Thanks SO MUCH for taking the time to read this whole thing… whew! I wouldn't have the patience! XD
Erik's Dark Lullaby: Well, thanks for your understanding:) You guys are so easy on me… I expected a truckload of complaints for the boring filler. Haha. Well, I skipped over a bit of time in there… everything was in order, and I didn't want to take the time and space to add ANOTHER filler before the Masquerade. Hope it didn't seem too choppy. –nervous look-
Venus725: Ooh, hope the vacation was/is fun! I just got back from vacation too. –content sigh- Good times, good times. Sorry to disappoint you, but I wanted to save "Why So Silent?" for its own chapter, just because it rocks, haha.
LoveroftheArts: I know, I love the Masquerade! –grins- It's my mom's favorite scene, so I've watched it a billion times. I'm so glad that you understand the importance and necessity of fillers, even if they are a pain in the neck. :) Thanks so much!
Hriviel: Ah ha! –beams- You caught the "mousy brown hair" line… hehe. Yep, your influence all the way. It's just so TRUE… when you used that phrase, something just clicked in my brain, and I can't seem to get it out. :) So much for originality. LOL. Thanks for the note about his initials on the binding… Jenna saves the day AGAIN! That's TWICE in one chapter! –bows repeatedly at your feet- You're my savior, Jen! You rock my socks:D
Sandy: -tackle hugs for my 300th review- I know, I know, it was BORING and LONG and I hated it, but I'm glad you understand that it was necessary. Buckle in for a lovey dovey, mushy, sappy E/C moment in the next chapter! –squee- I love "Why So Silent?"!
Tink8812: Nowhere! I'm still here:) Woo hoo! Someone to commiserate with me over the headache-inducing fillers! LOL. Glad you liked the mannequin comment… I do try to add in some humor to lighten this phic up every once in awhile, otherwise it just gets depressing. The Christine replica "watching" him search fruitlessly for a towel was just too much to pass up. XD Yes, Erik reminds me of a sad, shy little boy MOST of the time… he never really had much of a childhood, so I suppose he's making up for it now, hmm?
Phantomluver1000: YAY ANGST INDEED! Lol. I looove angst! Angsty!Erik is probably my favorite to write, followed closely by Naughty!Erik. Tee hee. Plenty of angst a'comin… hang in there! –does the new reviewer dance-
Chocobo Surprise: WOW, that might be my longest review yet! –glomps- You're too sweet:D Ooooh, SPECIFICS! I LOVE specifics! –dances around happily- Yep, Madame Giry is my all-time favorite Phantom character (besides Erik, of course)… leave it to her to be bitterly sarcastic and cynical one moment and maternal the next. She's great. :) I know, I know, everyone hated the ending to chapter 23, but that's what my new story is for. LOL… glad you liked 26-29… I heart Naughty!Erik SO much! It kills me that other authors ignore that side of his personality… it's a sin, I tell you! XD As for the list, I had a jolly good time writing it (especially the bath scene… -cough cough-). I think Erik's the only guy ever in the history of the world who had to write himself a reminder to eat. LOL. "And I know that if I suddenly found out that the thing I thought was the spirit of my father for ten years was actually a (strangely attractive) masked man who made a friggin' wax statue of me and wanted to marry me? Yeah, I don't think I would handle it very well either." OMG that comment had me in STITCHES! XD You know, you could be Christine's lawyer or something. LOL. Sorry, I still hate her, but it was a VERY good attempt! –rolling around on the floor laughing- You're very welcome for Kay's "Phantom," by the way. Hope you're enjoying it!
Psycho-Playgirl: OMG, all THREE? Whew, if that isn't devotion, I dunno what is! –glomps- You're phreakin awesome! I only posted "Evergreen" on the fifteenth, and already you've read and reviewed ALL of my phics? I don't even know how to thank you! –glomps again-
GEEZ, people! Pretty soon my reviewer responses are going to take up more pages than the actual STORY! LOL. You know I love them, though, so please drop me some feedback:) "Why So Silent?" should be up VERY soon, as in by this weekend. Thanks again, from the bottom of my widdle Erik-loving heart:D