A/N: Tomorrow is the end of my three day weekend, so updates will be slightly slower after this, which is why I'm updating so quickly. Enjoy, and the next chapter will be put up as soon as I can get to it. :) After all, the end is almost here!
Later that night, when the moon was full in the sky, Christine ran into Madame Giry once again.
"Oh, Christine, did you speak with Meg?"
"I did. And do not stand there and act as if you did not hear my answer already; I know you found out. I'll be the lead, and start practice tomorrow. She would not tell me what the opera is until she is sure I am signed on. That frightens me, but what can I say? I can not deny Meg."
"Can you deny Erik?"
"Deny him? What do you mean?"
"You have not been to see him yet."
"I have been busy. You may trust me when I say that no one has ever wanted inside that jailhouse more than I do. Madame Giry...has a sentence been reached?"
The aging woman nodded. "They have."
"Do you know of it then?"
"Yes. But I will not be the one to say it to you. Go to Erik, let him speak it for himself."
Christine looked as if she was going to beg Madame Giry for an answer better than the one she gave, but then decided against it. Instead, she grabbed a long black cloak from her room and ran down the halls and out of the opera house.
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Christine knew she would be punished if anyone saw her, but she didn't care. Even this late at night, she didn't care. She ran down the streets like a madman. She wasn't running to the jail, she was running to her Erik. With the memory of his picture on the newspaper, she ran even faster.
She covered the few blocks within little time, and ran inside the gloom-stricken jailhouse.
"What's a lass like ye doin' here?" A man with a Scottish accent asked her at the front desk.
"I'm here to see Erik Destler."
The man looked up and down many papers before he shook his head. "No Erik Destler here."
She sighed. "How about a Phantom of the Opera?"
"Ah, now that we have. Why do you ask for a Monsieur Destler?"
"Because it happens that the Phantom has a name."
"And do you, little lass, have a name?"
"Christine Daae."
He looked at her confused for a moment, then nodded. "You're the one that he kidnaped, aint ye? What are you doing here to see him?"
"The reasons of my visit are my own. Now, will you lead me to him?"
"Aye. Follow me."
Down the dark corridors they walked until he stopped at a large door. "Behind here, Lass." He said, opening the door. There was a small hallway where three guards with guns sat on chairs. And then there was the bars, and a sark room behind them. She ignored that part of the place.
"May I be left alone with him? I wish not that my words be overheard."
"We wouldn't think of you will any less respect, mademoiselle; no matter what you say. We are here for visitor's protection." the one young guard asked.
"Thank you, but there is no need to worry. Now please...?"
The guards did leave, but before the Scottish officer shut the door, he said one last thing. "Name's Neil. If you need anything, just give me a shout." He said, then disappeared behind the door.
Christine awaited a few moments after she heard the click, then took a deep breath and turned to the dark room .Erik was in the corner, sitting upon a single bench, hunched over with his hands over his face.
"Erik, I know you heard my voice and know I am here. Pleasecome over to me."
He didn't move. Not even a flinch to let her know that he acknowledged her presence. "Please, Erik? All I've done since I departed from our home was think and dream of you. All I've done so far is cry and sob; mourn over what could have been and what they are putting you through. I need you now. I'm no longer used to being away from you. I feel like something is constantly missing from me, and then I realize that it's you. Talk to me, Erik."
Still, nothing but his breath becoming heavier. She was affecting him, even if he tried to hide it.
"Look, Erik. I stand before you. Just feet away. I have not been taken away, only separated by bars. It is you whom have been taken from me, not the other way around. Come to me, Erik. I need you here with me; to speak to me or I'll surely go mad!"
It took a moment or two, but finally he did mutter something directed to her, let she could not hear it. Upon asking him to repeat it, he said, "They have taken my mask."
"I don't care! Please, I've seen you without it before. You do not need to wear it in my presence. Come over here."
He sat still, until finally her tempting voice got the better of him. Slowly his hands sunk to his sides as he stood and walked to her, head bowed.
Quickly she reached her arms in through the bars. He took her small hands into his, his grip tight on them, as if they were his lifeline. Perhaps they were.
"Madame Giry said that the court gave you the sentence, yet wouldn't tell me what. Erik..." Suddenly, with the churning of her stomach, she realized she didn't want to know. But by then, it was too late.
"Death. They gave me death."
Christine quickly looked away. She tried to take her arms away, but Erik grabbed them tighter and pulled her closer to the bars. "Do not turn away from me, Christine!" He said feverently, now looking at her straight in the eye.
She gave him her most sorrowful look. "Have you seen Nadir? Did he try to persuade them?"
"He is here, and yes he did try. He got them to give me a court hearing, but that's the extent of his abilities. He talked to me as well. Told me that you got him to come."
Christine nodded. "I needed someone to help you if you were going to forbid me to."
"As I do. Not a word to anyone."
"Madame Giry knows. I didn't tell her, she always knew."
"Of course. I meant besides her. She knows us both too well."
"She wont help because of Meg."
"It is not just because of Meg. She is tired of caring for me. She probably can not wait until I hang from the rafters or am shot dead; it will be weight lifted from her shoulders."
"Erik, do not speak like that!" Christine cried out, tears spilling down her cheeks.
"Forgive me. I know you are in a fragile state right now."
"You say such as if you do not believe that I should be."
"You shouldn't. I wish nothing more than you turning your emotions from me as the Madame has."
"How would that help you at all?"
"It wouldnt. It would kill me to know that you do not feel for me anymore. But it would be help to you. Perhaps you shouldn't be here, Christine. You should use this week to get used to me gone."
"Erik!" Christine screamed as if he had slapped her. Her knees were so wobbly now she felt they'd surely give out. "Please do not speak like such!"
"Go back to the opera house, Christine. Go live as you used to."
"As I used to? I have always known you, Erik! You have always been my most beloved friend! How can I go on like I used to if you are absent now?"
Erik put his face closer to hers, which was very close to the cold bars. "Go, Christine. And do not come back. I don't want anyone believing that what you say is not true. Go now; you've spent too much time here as it is." He whispered, as if begging.
"But Erik-"
"Go!" He said this in his previous tone, but more forceful. Wiping the tears away, she let go of her hold of him after he did of her.
"I love you. I shall always love only you." She whispered before opening the door and leaving him behind as he wished it.
It had started to rain while she had been in Erik's cell, but Christine hardly noticed. It helped to mistake her tears for simple rain drops.
Slowly she walked home, feeling so defeated. No wings fluttered in her chest to reach her destination now. Only a heavy weight that threatened to pull her down. The same heavy weight that made her careless and to keep stumbling.
It was grim weather for a very grim mood
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.The next morning Christine rose with a yawn, not wanting to face the day, but to sleep it away until this nightmare of stolen love was over, and she'd wake once again in that blue house not far from sea in Perros. She'd awake, yes, one day she'd have to awake. But just where she would wake remained the question.
Suddenly, her senses became alert, and she felt as if it could be quite late in the day. She ran to the window and pulled back the crude curtains to see the sun up quite high in the sky. She had over slept many hours! Shocked that Madame Giry had not come in yet with her ballet switch and awakened her, she dressed quickly in a white blouse and a deep red skirt; symbolizing, in her own way, her bleeding heart.
She shoved her small feet into dancing shoes and ran, not even bothering to put up her mass of curls. Instead, they flew behind her as she dashed down the hallways and lobby, all filled with sunlight.
Finally, she reached her destination, bursting through the theater doors. Everyone inside that were practicing stopped. Even Madame Giry froze in place to stare. At first, Christine looked puzzled. Then she started to see...
A handful of the men and women dancers were dressed in all black, from head to toe. The others dressed in peasant clothes.
'It couldn't be' were the words that ran over and over in her mind. She had started to believe them, until she looked elsewhere besides the dancers.
Two winding spiral staircases. A makeshift bridge in between. A red backdrop. It couldn't be...yet it was.
Christine closed her eyes, trying to shake the feeling of faintness that was coming on strongly. This wasn't happening. This wasn't what she signed up for!
She was sure she would have ended up crumpled on the floor within moments if a pair of thin arms hadn't wrapped lightly around her.
"I'm not doing this. I wont. Meg never said anything about this opera! I would have done any for her - but not this one. This is going too far." Christine whispered, her voice as shaky as her body.
"I am sorry that you must do this. I can only imagine how painful it is for you. But you did sign on. The managers heard the news, and put your name on the tickets that went on sale today. It's already nearly sold out. They went on sale only hours ago!"
"I don't care! I wont do this! No, Madame! Not for all the fame in the world, nor all the money. No!"
"Christine, there is no other to play this part."
"Then put on a different opera. I'll do any other, I know them all. But not this."
"That can not be. The patrons have been asking for the Populaire to reprise Don Juan for years. You must have known that already. But now they threaten to pull their money out if we do not listen."
"Raoul did not say such."
"No, he didn't. But he is only one of the patrons, and we can not survive on his money alone. Christine, if this opera does not go on, the patrons will leave, and the Populaire will shut down - all of us will have lost our jobs and homes. Already, this opera house holds a bad reputation for canceling so many shows already. If we do it again..."
"I am very sorry to hear this news, Madame Giry, but it just is not possible. Do you not see? Everyone says that I have never acted better before that show. Don't you know why? No, surely you do. You can not tell me you don't! I was not acting, Madame! Erik put so much true passion into every word he sang - and I played off of that - not as Aminta; but as me! Me! I lost my sense of character the moment he stepped onto the stage. I don't know how to act that opera; because I never did before. Last time those words I sang came from my heart, not Aminta's."
"Christine-"
"And how would you have me do this, may I ask? To perform the opera that Erik labored over for years; the opera he wrote about me, while he rots in a jailcell? No, he wouldnt be rotting in his cell - I read the paper today. He'll hang for the sport of every villagers' eyes to see on Friday at sundown. This show is to be held late evening on the same day. I would sing our duet with some unknown man as he dropped to his death! No! No, I will not do this!" Christine screamed, not being able to take anymore.
She unlaced her ballet shoes as quickly as she could, then shoved them in Madame Giry's hands. Never had she been so rude to the elder woman, but she had stepped too far this time. It hurt even more to know that she knew how Christine and Erik felt. How could she try to make Christine do this?
Turning on her heel, Christine ran back out of the theater.
Christine was just walking to the lobby as she put on her black cloak to go for a walk to clear her dizzy head when she spotted the managers coming towards them. Quickly, she turned and walked the other way, back towards the dormitories.
"Miss Daae! Do not turn from us; we only wish f or a moment of your time. Please allow us to speak to you." Monsieur Firmin called. Christine paused, wondering what to do. Finally she walked back to them, knowing full well they'd follow her to her room and beg at her door for hours until she listened.
"You may speak; but nothing you say will change my mind, since I trust you have heard the recent news of me."
"We have heard you want to pull out. But Mademoiselle, we beg you to reconsider. It will be the doom for us all; even your friends, the Giry's. You would not have them cast to the street with no home, would you?" Firmin asked.
"I do not like your threats, Monsieur, nor will I accept them. Please leave me if that is all you wish to do with my time."
"We do not, forgive us. But Mademoiselle, you are our last hope. No one could do this opera but you. You are the only soprano diva able to pull off such a show. It is your true talent."
"I am the only one? Meg was signed on to do it first! And it is not my talent that will be showcased. Do not try to belittle me with your words, thinking I am as dumb as most of the ballet rats are; I assure you I am not. It is not my talent people are coming to see; but it is my name. Everyone knows me now, not for what I love to do, but for what has happened to me lately, as well as the last time this show was played. What has happened over the last two weeks to me may be your chance to rejoice in my unwanted attention, but it was very hard on me. And everyone forcing me to do this opera is really too much, and really not fair of any of you."
"We would not ask of you such hard a task if we did not truly need of it. But this will be our ruin if you decide not to go through with this. Think, Mademoiselle, of your friends. Of the home where you grew up. Of your family's wishes come true. Think of those things before you let us fall." This was Andre's comment, put in more forceful of terms. Instead of answering to their blackmail, Christine pushed between them angrily and walked out of the opera house.
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