A/N: As always, a Super-Special thanks to my beta, Neko-chan:)
I also want to thank my reviewers! Your feedback is very much appreciated!
Episode 15: A Night at the Opera
By: Elektra
Pareau Women's Prison
Madeline jumped at the banging of her bars. "I was informed you've got a visitor again," the female prison guard began as she opened the door. "You've gotten pretty damned popular lately."
"My son and I have been trying to work things out..." Madeline offered by way of explanation. "I wasn't the best mother to him,"
"Yeah, that son of yours. Saw him when he came to visit. Nice ass. Shame he hides his face..." the guard smirked then reached into the cell and guided Madeline to the visitor's area.
Madeline was overjoyed as she came into the room. He stood with his back to her, but there was no question who he was. "ERIK!" she called out happily. Perhaps the past could be mended after all.
Her enthusiastic voice, muffled through the glass, reached his ears.
The man turned around slowly, the cold smirk on his pale lips turning Madeline's warm enthusiasm into icy fear.
She sunk down on the chair behind the glass, finding herself unable to look away from the beautifully flawless face before her.
No...
...Oh god no!
Theatre Populaire - Box 5
"I can't believe RJ's dad manages this place! I wonder if he could get me and Meg a job when we graduate," Christine started as she and Erik entered Box 5.
"I am sure you can get a job without help. You have the talent," Erik replied.
She smiled at him and blushed. She then sunk down into the lush velvet seat. "Nice!" she breathed, "Very nice!"
"At least it's private in here," he muttered as his eyes darted around their dark little corner of the Populaire. He adjusted the fedora on his head, making sure it was low enough to shadow the mask upon his face.
"Erik?" Christine began, "You're supposed take your hat off when you're inside,"
He glanced at her. "Oh well then... maybe I should make myself even more obvious then I already am!" he indicated his clothing - vintage nineteenth century, complete with black opera cloak.
"But you look GREAT!" Christine insisted, her own outfit a modern evening gown of black silk, "All gothic and mysterious!" She paused. "Though maybe you should buy yourself a proper suit sometime soon."
"I knew it," he muttered.
"Shhh. The lights are dimming..." she said, her silken-gloved hand automatically sliding over his leather-gloved one. Erik glanced down at their entwined fingers. Just the pressure of her hand was nice. He even felt a strange twitch at the corners of his lips. Was he possibly smiling?
After a few moments, Erik was finally able to pull his attention away from the beautiful girl beside him and focus on the stage.
The orchestra started up, and the show began. Christine glanced over at Erik, and was surprised to see him lip-synching the words. He seemed to know the entire libretto by heart... though really, that didn't surprise her. He probably knew a lot of things by heart.
He suddenly stopped when Polinesso - the villain of the piece - came on stage. Christine felt his hand clenching the armrest beneath her fingers and glanced over at him. "Erik?"
"Last I checked," he hissed dangerously, "Polinesso doesn't die until the end of the story!"
"What are you talking about? And... thanks for spoiling the ending for me," she pouted.
He looked at her. "I... oh... Forgive me. It's just..." he indicated the man on stage. "He should be a pile of dust!"
Christine's eyes went wide. "OH! He's one of them?"
Erik stood up. "Stay here. I need to do something..."
Christine nodded as Erik quickly left the box.
Manager's office
Firmin and André sat in their office counting their take for the night, tallying up the credit card, debit card, and cash purchases. "What a successful showing!" André clapped his hands happily.
Firmin frowned. "I just hope people aren't too upset about our Polinesso being understudied."
André waved away Firmin's concern. "No need to worry. Our understudy is quite good,"
"And quite DEAD!" A voice added. Firmin and André jumped as a tall, black-clad man burst into their office.
"I'm sorry, sirs! I tried to stop him!" came the distraught secretary behind him.
The two managers needed to take only one look at the man before them to know who it was. "That's okay, Marguerite," André began, "He's an acquaintance of ours." The woman looked nervous for a moment, glanced up at the intruder then headed back out, closing the door behind her.
"Erik?" Firmin began. "I didn't know you were coming tonight!"
"I didn't know you were in the business of hiring the undead," Erik replied. Firmin and André seemed confused for a moment. "You didn't notice?" Erik asked. "Your Polinesso!"
"Oh!" Firmin gasped, bringing a hand to his mouth, "Yes, André and I were just talking about him. Our lead did not show up tonight."
Erik frowned. "I will wager he's become a victim of professional jealousy and inhuman hunger," he muttered.
André looked about ready to tear out his hair. "Oh... what are we going to do? We ... we can't just stop the show!" He paced nervously back and forth. "A full house, Firmin! We can't refund a full house!"
"You're worried about money when your entire cast could be in danger?" Erik hissed angrily. "If Polinesso catches one of them backstage..." he let the sentence trail, but André and Firmin understood his meaning.
"Right, right, of course!" Firmin replied.
There was a gentle knocking at the door. "Sirs?" the door opened slowly, the secretary poking her head in.
"What is it, Marguerite?" André asked.
"There's a girl here. Said her ... uh... date..." she glanced up at Erik, "... went missing?"
André and Firmin looked at Erik, eyes widening in disbelief. "DATE?" André gasped, both men rather surprised that Erik would even have a date.
"Christine..." Erik groaned, "Damn it!"
"Little Meg's best friend?" Firmin sputtered. "Oh my, Erik! I sensed there was something between you two at the Christmas dinner... but THAT?"
"It's not like that!" Erik insisted. He studied the two men before him, "Just so you know - Christine knows everything about THEM," he began quietly so that Marguerite wouldn't hear, "She just doesn't know everything about ME." His warning was clear in his voice. No mention of the Executioner was to be made.
The two men nodded. "Let her in then," Firmin ordered Marguerite. The young lady nodded, and Christine walked in somewhat shyly, Marguerite closing the door as she exited. "Hello, Christine dear!" Firmin said warmly.
"Um, hey, Monsieur Firmin," Christine smiled, "I... I didn't mean to interrupt... but..." she looked up at Erik, "I was getting a little worried..." she glanced nervously at the two men before her, unsure how much to give away.
"I told you to stay in your seat, Christine," Erik replied.
How would he explain this? He could not think of a plausible excuse to hide the fact that Firmin and André were part of the Guild.
"I'm sorry. I didn't know you'd be here talking to them," she said, "I thought you'd be lurking backstage or something. And... the first act is over-" she quickly stopped.
Erik took a deep breath. "They know, Christine," he said outright. "Like Nadir, we work together on occasion."
Christine furrowed her brow. "Is this like some big organization or something?"
"It's something. A very secret something which you were never supposed to find out about in the first place," Erik said.
Christine nodded. "I'm sorry about that..." she said, then bit her lip nervously. "Um, what are you going to do?" she asked.
"What else can we do, dear?" Firmin replied, hands outstretched. "We must cancel the next two acts and refund the tickets. We cannot let our Polinesso continue endangering our cast, and we have no one to replace him once we get rid of him!"
"Erik can replace him!" Christine offered eagerly. "He knows all the words. I saw him lip-synching."
"Christine!" Erik hissed angrily. "Are you insane?"
"Now wait..." Firmin seemed to consider this. "I heard your voice at Antoinette's. It's beautiful Erik. You have such an incredible talent. Why have you never used it?" Firmin asked. "It would be perfect for Ariodante. But since HE is not the danger, then you would make a very impressive Polinesso."
André seemed surprised. "Erik can sing?"
"Oh yes! Very well!" Firmin answered.
"Richard!" Erik growled. It was the first time he had addressed Firmin by his first name... and it meant he was annoyed. "What am I supposed to do? Go on stage with this," he indicated the mask. "I am not sure that would go over very well!"
Firmin shrugged. "We can explain that we took artistic license." He turned to André. "See if you can find a mask to fit Polinesso's costume. Why, it would be so very fitting that our villain wears a mask!"
"No. NO!" Erik insisted. "I will get rid of the threat, and then I will go home."
"Erik! You have a date," André pointed out, indicating Christine. "It's rather inconsiderate of you to make her miss the next two acts."
Christine looked up at him. "Can it be part of my birthday present?" she asked eagerly.
"This was for her birthday?" Firmin asked. "Well then, you MUST do it. For her, if no one else!"
"NO!" Erik shouted angrily. "Discussion over! I will do what I must, then LEAVE!" He stormed out of the room before Firmin, André, or Christine could say any more.
Back Hallway
Christine searched for any signs of someone in trouble. Surely if one of them had taken over the role, then the poor lead must be tied up or locked in a closet, or some such thing.
The hallway was dark, lit only by half the lighting available, no doubt to cut down on electric costs. This hallway lead to the Theatre's dormitories, for those who had taken it upon themselves to live there.
She crept down the hall, listening for any sound. Surely, even if he was gagged, he could make some kind of noise. "Hello..." she called out. "If you can hear me, move or try to talk." Silence met her plea, but a metallic smell pervaded her senses.
She kept walking, straining to make out more details in the poor lighting. A light bulb popped and Christine spun around, taking three awkward steps backwards. As she turned back around, her foot caught on something hard and she fell forward. Barely catching herself, she turned over on the ground to see a mass on the floor behind her. She choked on the smell and pulled her feet underneath her.
"Mister?" Christine reached a hand out to the body before her. She shook the pants leg, and the body fell towards her. The neck was almost gone, gnawed on as if by an animal. Whatever attacked this man meant to make him suffer, not just die. The skin was pasty and bluish-white. His eyes were unfocused and almost milky; dried blood caked around his eyes and the corners of his mouth.
Christine wanted to cry, or scream, but most of all she wanted to shut his eyes forever.
Backstage
Erik walked around slowly, hand at the inner pocket of his cloak wrapped around the stake. He saw Polinesso heading off to the right, following a young ballet girl. Erik quickly followed. "You're fired..." he said when he found himself behind the creature in the hallway.
The creature spun around, eyes wide. Before anyone happened upon the scene, Erik turned It to dust... seconds before the ballet girl made her way back. He tipped his hat politely to her, kicking the dust away with the toe of his boot. She eyed him warily, but continued on her way.
"Erik!" a voice called out behind him. He turned to see Firmin behind him, breathless. "We found our lead," he swallowed nervously, "Or rather... your date did. She... went exploring. Found him down a hallway slumped in a dark corner. Dead." He took a nervous breath, "She was very distraught..."
"Take me to her!" Erik commanded, and Firmin quickly led the way.
Manager's Office
The moment Erik entered the room, Christine came flying at him. She threw her arms around his torso and pressed her face against his shirt, her breathing quick and unsteady. He could feel her trembling against him, "Oh god... it was awful!" she cried, "His... his face... it... white! Dead white! And... the smell... it... it... horrible... I... that poor man!"
"Christine, calm down," Erik began, his voice low and soothing. It wasn't helping. He took a deep breath and did something he had never done to another human being - he slid his arms around the shaking girl and simply held her. Offering comfort was not something he was familiar with, but in this instance he knew it was needed. Christine was near passing out from hysterics. If he let her go now, she would most likely fall.
She did not push him away.
"How do you do it?" Christine gasped, clutching at the back of his tailcoat desperately, "How?"
"Because I am not like you, Christine," He spoke gently, "I am used to such things." He leaned his head down and rested his chin against her temple. "Easy now. You're hyperventilating." He was surprised to find how easily her little body relaxed against him. He then took a deep breath and began to hum a soft soothing melody only she could hear.
Erik's voice was warm. Reassuring. He long ago had been made aware of the effect he had on people using this precious instrument, and now he took full advantage of it.
He tugged off his gloves and dropped them to the ground, still holding Christine as he continued humming. He heard her breathing slow, felt her trembling ease.
When Christine was calm enough, he let go of her. With careful fingers, he tilted her chin up, pulling out a handkerchief and dabbing at her mascara-stained cheeks and eyes. "André, Firmin! Get her a glass of cold water," he ordered.
"Yes! Of course," André replied, and quickly headed out with Firmin to do so, both realizing Erik wanted to talk to the girl alone.
"Are you calm now?" Erik asked Christine as he focused on her once again.
She swallowed hard, then nodded her head, "Yeah... I think... I think I'll be ok..."
"Good," he replied, then boldly pressed his forehead against hers, graceful fingers gently stroking her cheeks. "I apologize, Christine. If it was not for me, you never would have been involved in that," his voice was full of regret when he spoke. "In fact, if it was not for me, you never would have been involved in a lot of things,"
"Erik..." Christine started, eyes closing agreeably as she reached out to embrace him once more.
"I should get ready," he interrupted as he stepped away from Christine, causing her empty arms to fall back to her sides.
"Ready?" She opened her eyes, blinking in surprise.
"Yes. The show has been delayed long enough. They need a Polinesso, and I think it would be... intriguing... to see what kind of reaction I receive," he said.
"You'll do it then?" Firmin's excited voice came from the door and he and André returned with Christine's water.
Erik let out a sigh, "Yes, Richard. I will do it!"
"Oh Erik!" Christine clapped her hands together gleefully. "I can't wait to see you!"
That was just the reaction he was hoping for. It was the real reason why he had suddenly decided to perform in public - something he had never done before. He was uncomfortable enough just walking in public.
However, Erik would rather Christine end the night with happy thoughts than have the poor girl sit in her dorm stewing over the unfortunate finding that had left her so distraught.
Firmin seemed overjoyed himself. "André, see Miss Daaé back to her seat. I will properly prepare Erik for the next two acts," he said, and immediately led the reluctant masked-man away.
Pareau Women's Prison
"Ah, my dear sweet Madeline. How have you been?" The Leader asked as he picked up the phone on the other side of the glass.
Madeline could only look at him.
"Take the phone, my dear. It's rude to simply stare like that."
Madeline did not even realize she was obeying until she had the phone to her ear. It had always been this way. One look in his eyes, and he had her. He controlled her.
"You... haven't aged," she gasped, "In... in over thirty years... you haven't aged!"
"Oh, I have," he insisted, "I just aged much gracefully then YOU, obviously." He eyed her graying blond hair and the crows feet that decorated the corners of her eyes. "Though I must admit, it is difficult for someone like me to SHOW his age," he sighed wistfully. "Ah, you mortals. I forgot how you only have a certain number of good years in you,"
"Us... mortals?" she asked, "I..." she stopped as a sudden realization hit her, "What... what are you?"
"Someone who's been around a very long time," he replied. "Are you telling me after all this time, you never knew?" he then leaned forward, "Are you telling me you did not wonder why I was able to fulfill ever lusty female desire you ever had?" He seemed incredulous. "Why, my dear Madeline, surely in your... uh... former line of work, you knew it was rare - nay, impossible - to find a man who could do such things."
He leaned back smugly. "Why, I'm sure most of your clients just took their own pleasure and left you wanting." He raised an eyebrow. "But I never left you wanting, did I? I remember how much you enjoyed every little rendezvous! You didn't even ask for payment!" He then smirked a cold, arrogant smirk. "Oh, but I DID leave you with a little gift, didn't I?"
"I took all the necessary precautions!" She cried out, "But... you! How? How did you do that?"
"Accidents do happen," he replied.
Madeline's eyes went wide, "You bastard!" she hissed. "You planned it! Somehow... somehow you planned it! And then... LEFT ME!"
"Oh really now... were you honestly expecting me to marry you?" he laughed. "Silly Madeline... such a foolish little girl you were." He sighed. "I'll come back to visit tomorrow. Perhaps you'll be in a better mood then,"
Without another word, the Leader stood up and left.
Backstage
Erik looked in the mirror before him, his mask now matching the costume he was wearing. It was better then nothing, at least.
Firmin and André had come up with a wonderful excuse for why the rest of the show had to be performed by an unknown - as the story went, the lead had run off, and their understudy took ill after the first act.
Firmin and André explained that they would have had to delay the show even longer if they were to call in someone else to take over. Since the managers had a friend who was rather talented, and knew the libretto by heart, why not allow him to perform?
It was a good enough tale to acquire a reluctant understanding from the rest of the cast and crew.
Erik's thoughts were interrupted as the audio operator came up to him, offering him a small piece of plastic. "You'll hear the stage manager through this," The man explained. "It just fits in your ear like so," he showed Erik, then handed the odd contraption to him.
Erik understood. He knew nothing of the blocking or direction for this performance. This earpiece would allow him to pretend he knew what he was doing.
Erik quickly slid the plastic in his ear and found it molded to the shape quite well. Once he was satisfied all was in order, the audio operator left.
After one last glance in the mirror, Erik allowed himself a long shaky breath, then headed out.
Into the Lion's Den I go...Box 5
Christine read the synopsis in the playbill before her:
Act II, Scene 4:
Polinesso is with Dalinda, currently pretending to be Ginerva - in an attempt to trick Ariodante into thinking his lover is unfaithful.
Christine watched the scene play out before her, cheering rather loudly as Erik entered stage right.
She didn't care that she was drawing attention to herself. This was the only time she would ever see Erik on stage like this, sharing his beautiful gift with the world.
On stage
"Ok, now walk up to her slowly, start touching the shoulders and everything above," came the stage manager's voice in Erik's ear. The masked man was hesitant a moment. For someone not used to touching women, the stage manager was asking him to all but feel-up the actress on stage.
But Erik did not have the option to protest. His eyes shifted to the left, taking in the audience. Then he slid his eyes upward, seeing Christine sitting there, waiting.
Things had to go smoothly, even if it meant Erik would be made rather uncomfortable.
Pretend it's Christine... a voice said in the back of his head.
Erik closed his eyes, took a calming breath, then opened his eyes again.
The woman before him was now a lovely little ballet student with dark curls and bright blue eyes.
At least it made the acting a little bit easier...
Box 5
Christine watched as Polinesso slowly sidled up to Dalinda, long graceful fingers tracing the woman's face, lips, neck, stroking her cheek... just like he stroked mine earlier...Christine thought.
When Erik finally sang, his voice was as seductive as Christine had ever heard it, sending a rush of heat through her body and setting her cheeks aflame.
"Se i rimproveri miei a queste spoglie sol diretti udisti..."
Polinesso's elegant hands slid over Dalinda's shoulders and down her back as he brought his lips close to her ear. Dalinda, for her part, looked enraptured, her eyes half-closed, lips parted, face flushed.
Christine leaned forward in her seat, a small frown on her lips. Funny... the actress didn't seem as captivated when it was someone ELSE playing the part.
"...udirai qui avante tenerezze d'amor, sensi d'amante..." Polinesso continued, smoothly sauntering around Dalinda until he was in front of her again.
He reached forward and grasped her hips, tugging her body against his. Dalinda leaned her head back as Polinesso continued to sing.
Dalinda's hands reached up to caress his chest, his arms, his neck and shoulders. Her eyes were fully closed now.
Christine clutched at the arms of her chair, her mouth clenched so tightly she was beginning to feel her jaw cramp. How dare she! Christine thought, She's all but THROWING herself at him. In front of all these people, no less! That CAN'T be in the script! Get your hands off Erik, you little hussy!
Christine was taken aback by the vehemence of her own thoughts.
She chalked it up to anger on Erik's behalf and soon found herself rattling off some rather impolite words directed at the actress playing Dalinda.
Ravelle College - outside Residence (later)
"I hope you enjoyed your evening, Christine," Erik said as they stopped in front of Ravelle College Residence. He pulled something out from inside his cloak - a red rose - and held it out to her, bowing politely.
Christine smiled and took it from him, mindful of the thorns. No doubt he had gathered many of these after his performance - which apparently went over so well with the audience that Firmin and André took it in their minds to offer him a contract.
Erik had adamantly refused.
"Can we go to the opera again?" she asked hopefully.
He shrugged. "I'll ask Firmin and André for a list of what they plan for the rest season, and you let me know how many tickets you need."
Christine furrowed her brow. "I said WE, Erik. As in... you and me... which would automatically equal TWO."
"Christine..." Erik began. "Please. I have no wish to repeat tonight's performance. You may ask Meg or DeChagny."
Christine crossed her arms and pouted. "Oh for heaven's sake!" She stamped a little foot angrily. "If I want to go to a dance club or rock concert, I go with Meg! If I want to watch a sporting event, I go with Raoul!"
She then unfolded her arms and reached out to take his hand, her voice growing softer. "But my dad used to take me to the opera all the time when I was a little girl. I developed a passion for it. It's the reason I got into singing. It's special to me, Erik, so when I go to the opera, I need to go with YOU."
Christine looked up at him and saw that he had not understood the meaning behind her words.
After everything he had been through, she realized Erik had come to expect only rejection. Not just from her, but from everyone. That Christine had even referred to him as her date to Firmin and André's secretary had shaken him. Shocked him, even.
She only wished she were brave enough to prove that the last thing she planned on doing was rejecting him.
Christine slowly stepped towards Erik and tilted her head up, closing her eyes. Erik studied the girl before him. Why did it look as if she were waiting for something?
Erik bravely leaned forward and pressed his lips to her forehead, allowing them to linger for a moment.
He pulled back immediately, wincing as he clamped his eyes shut, realizing what he had just done. His body noticeably tensed as he fully expected Christine to lash out for daring such an informal touch.
Nothing happened.
Erik hesitantly opened one eye, then the other, only to see Christine's face filled with an emotion that she was trying desperately to hide.
Erik grew worried. Had he offended her?
Christine said nothing as she wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her little face against him.
It was the last thing he had expected.
"Goodnight Erik," she spoke softly against his shirt, then slowly pulled away. "I'll be expecting that list from you." She forced a sweet smile. "I'm sure the Populaire has several operas we'd enjoy." He nodded in agreement, still surprised that she could so easily hug him.
Christine turned around and made her way towards Residence, offering him once last glance and a wave before she disappeared inside.
Erik, on the other hand, went around the back of the building and returned to his own home without ever being seen.
Such was the norm for a man who lived his entire life in shadows.
Pardeau Women's Prison (the next day)
"Why did you come back?" Madeline demanded of the man before her.
"I found this interesting," he replied, ignoring her question. He held up the morning paper - the entertainment section - and pointed out the opera review.
"Unknown talent triumphs"
Jean Cassidy/ Classical Music Critic
The Theatre Populaire's production of Ariodante, though plagued by a string of unfortunate events, managed a compelling evening of impeccable vocal ability and the emergence of an unknown star in the making.
A performer masquerading with the moniker "Erik" took the stage after the understudy took ill. With a voice that effortlessly embraced Victoria Patil's Dalinda, "Erik" held the woman and the audience in a spell with his intoxicating range and his passionate delivery. His dexterity left many of the female patrons appreciative, some to the point of audible ecstasy.
Particular praise must be accorded to Regina Cortelli's interpretation of Generva, and Barton Marcum's sensitive staging helped draw out the inherent sensuality.
Madeline smiled at what she read. Erik on stage? And making women swoon, no less?"See!" The Leader pointed out. "You are happy I am here after all!"
Madeline's mood quickly diminished. "Go to hell, Shay!"
The Leader laughed so hard, tears would have fallen if his body were capable of it. "Dearest Madeline! I already own real estate there!" His laughter stopped abruptly, his voice growing deep and seductive. "I simply came here to give you your conjugal rights. You ARE allowed, are you not?" He asked smoothly. "I must say, it is good to see that you are still quite the spitfire! I did so enjoy that about you. It excited me!"
Madeline wanted to protest his offer, to reply with righteous indignation... but one look in his golden eyes suddenly made her mind weak and her body hungry.
I've gone too long without his touch...she thought.
He smiled the sly sensual smile she remembered so well and spoke again. "It will not be much longer." Madeline was startled to find him replying directly to her thoughts, but did not question nor protest. She suddenly found herself needing him far too much. What was he doing to her?
"I shall make the arrangements then," the Leader finished as he stood up and motioned for the guard, informing her of his intentions. She refused permission at first, but he easily persuaded her to comply with his request. The guard informed him of a room in the back where such things took place.
The Leader truly did enjoy the power he held over others.
He returned his attention to Madeline once again. "After we are done, my dear," it seemed his voice spoke in her very head, "I would very much enjoy hearing about your latest chat with our son..."
END OF EPISODE 15