Chapter 9
Erik stood from a distance and watched carriage after carriage pull up in front of the Opera Populaire. He surveyed the scores of people entering, all in their finest attire and all donning ornate masks to hide their faces from their friends and acquaintances. For them, it created an air of mystery for one evening alone.
It is very different when you aren't wearing it for the purpose of entertainment, Erik thought, loathing every person he saw in front of him. These oblivious socialites could never begin to comprehend the suffering that wearing a mask had brought him.
Erik could not help but recognize the irony of the evening. The mask which had always separated him from his fellow man, tonight would allow him to be one of them. Tonight he would mingle among those whose cruelty towards his mangled flesh kept him prisoner beneath the earth void of any human companionship.
Erik felt his stomach churn. He realized that if he stood in the shadows much longer, the festivities would be over without him ever even crossing the threshold of the building. He took one deep breath and headed for his destination. As he walked towards the lights, music and commotion of the Masquerade, it occurred to him that he had never gone in through the grand front entrance of the Opera Populaire.
His mind drifted back to the last time he had been to a Masquerade. He had delivered his opera, Don Juan Triumphant, in a frightening storm of fury. He had not known that it would start into motion a sequence of events that would change his life forever. Every eye had been on him from the time he made his presence known to the time he made his grand exit in a fiery plume of smoke through the floor.
Let's hope I am able to be much more inconspicuous this evening, Erik thought.
Erik maneuvered his way through the throngs of people. Most of the men wore black suits with black and white masks that covered everything but their mouths. This was what he also had decided to wear in order to camouflage himself. Some men, who looked ridiculous to Erik, were adorned in vests and waist coats of gold and crimson. They wore masks decorated like exotic animals with as much embellishment as possible.
Unfortunately, after scanning the room several times, Erik began to notice that most of the young women Meg's age were wearing similar billowing gowns of white and other light colors. Their masks were also very alike; most were adorned with feathers, pearls, or tiny flowers.
How would he ever find Meg in this preposterous maze of women in white?
Erik was not even sure what he was going to do once he did find Meg. He just knew he would not allow her make a mockery of him by disregarding his authority in such a blatant manner.
As he walked, Erik listened to the tune of the cheerful music that filled the vast, over-decorated rotunda of the Opera house. It was a far cry from the bitter and dismal melodies that he created in the caverns hundreds of feet below.
"Good evening, Monsieur," a young lady smiled and said as she passed him.
"How do you," an older gentleman greeted him, wearing a lavish mask that resembled the head of a peacock.
"Very well, thank you," Erik replied appearing like the perfect gentlemen. He quickly kept walking as he had no desire to make small talk with any of these pretentious, society half-wits.
Then suddenly, Erik could hardly believe his eyes. In the sea of white before him, he finally spotted Meg. She was standing halfway up the grand marble stair case towards the back of the room, but she did not have on the dress that had been hanging in her dressing room.
Meg was wearing a striking gown of black satin that clung to her tiny, yet voluptuous frame as if it had been painted on her by the most skillful of artists. The skirt of the dress hugged her petite hips and then swelled gracefully around her. The layered bustle of black satin cascaded elegantly down the stairs behind her.
The top of the gown was off the shoulder and it revealed more than a hint of Meg's ample cleavage. Around her neck she wore a dainty pearl choker with matching earrings. Her golden locks were only partially pulled up with tiny pearl pins. The rest of her hair caressed her back and shoulders in perfect long blond ringlets.
On her face she wore a simple black satin mask with a hint of sparkle that covered only the area around her eyes.
Erik had to catch his breath. Tonight, Meg was beyond beautiful. There were no words that could describe how stunning she truly was. It amazed how him she could look so classically exquisite, yet so bewitchingly seductive at the same time.
He felt his vexation for her melting away. Feelings of animosity were replaced once again by great longing to simply get a closer look at this divine creature before him.
Not surprisingly, Erik was not the only man in the room to be enticed by Meg's provocative dress and ravishing beauty. She was surrounded by a score of gentlemen young and old who seemed to be simply awe-struck by her.
Erik decided not to waste any more time. He knew in order to get her away from these enamored buffoons he would have to be bold but refined, charming, but firm in his approach. Eric advanced towards Meg with an air of confidence and charisma that turned many a ladies' head. As he got closer, he could hear Meg's infectious laughter that he had inspired in her so many times on the roof when he spoke to her about the short-comings of her fellow performers.
Erik made his way through the crowd of suitors. When he was only a few feet away, he caught Meg's gaze in his own. He walked boldly straight towards her and took her hand, and then he gently lifted it to his lips.
"Marguerite, would you do me the honor of a dance?" Erik inquired his voice as sultry and convincing as ever.
He could feel the tension from the irritated suitors that surrounded them; they waited with baited breath for her reply. However, Meg was not theirs' to pursue, and he was about to make that undeniably clear to everyone in the room.
Meg did not speak, but simply answered by allowing Erik to lead her to the dance floor. He reveled in seeing the annoyance and disappointment on the faces of the gentlemen who had spent the evening vying for a moment of her attention.
Meg eyes did not leave Erik's for a moment; she had already surrendered to the piercing green stare that seemed to engulf her. She knew who he was the moment she heard his elusive voice. She had been so stunned that no words could escape her lips. She simply allowed him to guide her to the dance floor as if in a trance. To Meg everyone else in the room disappeared.
Unlike her, Erik was very aware that all the eyes in the Masquerade were following him and Meg to the dance floor. He saw the faces of jealous men who wanted to be in his position, and women who were green with envy over Meg's illustrious beauty.
Erik slipped his hand around Meg's waist and lower back; he held her tiny fragile hand in his. As they started to dance he pulled Meg tightly to him so that her soft delicate body was flush against his muscular frame. They moved fluidly as if they were a single entity. Erik desperately tried to keep his mind and body under control as Meg's erratic breathing thrust her ample bosom against his chest, driving him nearly to the point of insanity.
Finally, before it consumed him, Erik spoke breaking the erotic silence between them, "Marguerite, I hope that you realize that this is not the gown of a young maiden in search of a proper husband."
Meg paused for a moment, "I was feeling dark, and a husband is not what I'm looking for," she replied seductively not retreating from his deep stare, and only half knowing what she was saying.
"Be careful what you say to me Marguerite, although I may be the Phantom of the Opera, as you can see I am still a man of flesh and blood," he said coolly, pulling her even closer to him.
"Why did you ignore my note, Mademoiselle? I have little patience for disregard of my requests. It is not in your best interest to anger me," he hissed, as he recalled how furious she had made him the night before.
They continued to twirl around the dance floor, igniting a wave of curiosity among the guests who wondered about the identities of the handsome couple in black.
Meg was completely lost in the arms of the man that she vowed she would not allow herself to love. She looked at the Phantom's black and white mask. It was amazing how well he blended in with all the other people. Yet, to her, he still stood out. His tall stature, his intoxicating voice, and his emerald green eyes made him incomparable to the other so-called gentlemen that filled the room.
What Meg had not noticed as they danced, was that while she was swallowed completely by intensity of his stare, Erik was stealthily spinning them out of the crowd towards one of the side exists of the rotunda. Before she knew it, he had grabbed her and swept her out a door into cold night air. They were standing in a dark alley on the side of the Opera house.
Erik grabbed Meg by the arms, "Did you hear what I said," he demanded. He saw tears welling up in Meg's doe-like brown eyes, he longed to kiss her pale pink lips, but instead he let his temper get the best of him. "Did you think you could defy me and get away with it?" he thundered.
"No," Meg said as a tears fell down her cheeks. "It's just that… I think… in a way, I wanted to make you angry."
"You wanted to do what!" Erik roared. His unyielding grip found its way to Meg's delicate throat. "Have you gone mad? Do you realize how easily I could snap your pretty little neck? Do you? What would possess you to anger me?"
Meg couldn't speak; there was a look of terror in her eyes. Erik released his grasp on her neck and went back to gripping her tiny arms in his powerful hands.
"You will answer me!" he demanded.
"I…I thought you were tired of me, I thought you… had grown sick of me. It hurt me, so I wanted to… to hurt you," Meg sobbed.
"What do you know of hurt, you insolent girl! What pain have you ever known?" he bellowed. "I have felt agony that you could never dream of in your worst nightmare! Do you know what it is like to feel as though your heart is being ripped from your chest because your one true love has given her heart to another? Do you understand what it is like to know that you will never feel happiness with another human being because of the hideousness of your own face?"
To Erik's astonishment Meg started to yell through her tears right back in his face.
"I may not comprehend all your pain, but you are not the only person who has ever shed a tear!" she sobbed.
Meg tore herself from Erik's grip with all her might.
"I know exactly what it is like to know my love will never be returned! The man I love has no feelings for me at all! He loves another, and I will never have his love! I will never love anyone else, so I am doomed to loneliness just like you!"
Erik stood before Meg in a silent state of shock. He could nothing but watch as she ran from his sight, her black dress and golden curls waving behind her. He was unsure as to what astounded him more about the past few moments. He didn't know if it was the fact that Meg had dared to yell in his face, or if it was the idea that there was someone in this world foolish enough to reject her love.
