Oh no, is Katey…er… Fleur…wait… whatever. Is SHE going to cause a butt-load of problems on the roof? And what about Erik? Lord knows he's going to be mad as heck… And why am I asking you, if I'm the author.
I DON'T KNOW!
Good plot discussion I suppose, makes you want to read the story and find out…. And not listen to me chatter away… Hmmm? What's that? I should shut up now? Good idea.
--------------------------
I pounded up the stairs, thankful that the loud hubbub below was hiding my heavy breathing. Let me tell you something, using a stay for ballet is alright, but when you have to sprint up five stories of stairs in toe shoes and a minor version of a corset? That, my friend, is tiring.
But despite my lungs felt as though they were going to burst, I could barely feel it. I was being driven by a wild, uncontrollable fear. I felt my chest growing tight, and my eyes sting. But was that from the fact that I was probably going to pass out because of my tight stays? Or because of something else? All I knew is that I felt as though the devil himself was after me, and that I had to keep following Christine and Raoul.
Was that it? Because of a petty jealousy? I knew I should turn right around if it was because of that, but I knew that it was something different… something worse. Like if I wasn't up their with Christine and Raoul life as I knew it would end then and there. And so I followed, always about a flight below them. Always following, and always watching.
Even from so far down below I knew what they were saying. Why? Obvious; I had seen the movie far too many times and had memorized just about every line.
When at last I saw Christine and Raoul turn and exit, I had to find another way out. I couldn't just barge in on them… But what if I did…
As I was contemplating this I was far to engrossed in my own thoughts to notice a figure swathed in black come up behind me.
"I never would have expected to see you here. Shouldn't you be devising theories on how that trash, Buquet died?"
I opened my mouth t scream in fright, but he clamped a firm hand over my gaping mouth.
"Didn't I tell you I could still make you tremble?" Erik said cockily, in so much a manner like my brother that I almost laughed aloud. But a second later the humor had disappeared and I felt vaguely annoyed.
"I know how Buquet died." I said coldly, passing over his last remark.
"And how, pray tell." He asked, sounding an awful lot like how I imagined Rhett Butler sounded.
"It was Buquet who saw you switch Carlotta's voice spray, and you thought he knew too much already, so you decided to take him out. One less mouth you had to worry about telling how you ruined 'Il Muto.'"
His jaw had momentarily gone slack, but he hardened it so quick I wasn't sure I had seen him in disbelief.
"How do you know all this?" He demanded, giving himself away.
It dawned on me how idiotic my last move was. I just good as told him I knew about everything that happens in this story.
"I heard it from the ballet girls." I made a brave attempt, and hoped he would believe me.
He laughed rudely. "After Buquet fell you scampered up here like a frightened rabbit; although the reason to why you chose the roof to refuge to is beyond my reasoning."
"I came up here… because…" I tried to think of a good answer, but he realized the truth as though it were written plainly on my face.
He cursed softly, and made way for the door, but I grabbed his arm, trying to pull him back.
"No! Don't!" I said, pulling all my weight in the other direction.
He looked back at me with a face blackened with rage. A face that clearly read 'I'm going to kill him if it's the last thing I do…' I dropped his arm quickly and cowered against a pillar. I didn't want to be at the mercy of his strength and be dead. But I knew I couldn't let him through that door, and by God, I wouldn't.
I squared my shoulders and lunged for his arm which was reaching for the door, and luckily caught him by surprise. I shoved him back and, with stray hairs falling from my bun, I said with as much force as I could "Back away from the door!"
He down at me in surprise; every line on my face was hard with determination, and even down to the last delicate flower that was stuck haphazardly into my loosening bun, I radiated a sense of power and stubbornness. I was not going to let him pass, even if I was met face to face with his anger; even if it meant death. I knew I had one more life to live, and I felt ready for a gamble.
Erik said nothing, only turned, and disappeared into the darkness.
The utter fearlessness that had held me upright a moment ago was still coursing through my veins, and with every throb of my pulse I felt the adrenaline pump through me.
I felt along the wall for a secret door that I could slip out onto the roof with Raoul and Christine, and after a few moments, I felt a handle. I pushed it, and a rush of bitingly cold air met me, along with the sound of Raoul's voice.
I peeked my head out and saw that they were facing the opposite direction, so I quickly slipped out into the icy night, and hid behind one of the statues; exactly as Erik had done in the movie.
"Let me be your freedom, let daylight dry your tears, I'm here, with you and beside you, to guard you and to guide you…" Raoul sang. I closed my eyes and crouched to the ground, my ballet costume pooling in the soft snow, my eyes smarting.
"Say you love me every waking moment… turn my head with talk of summer time… Say you need me with you now and always… promise me that all you say is true…. Love me, that's all I ask of you…" Christine sang back, her sweet soprano cutting through the wintry stillness.
"Let me be your shelter, let me be your light, you're safe, nothing can harm you, your fears are far behind you…" Raoul replied, holding her close.
Suddenly it was all too much to handle. I knew that I had to get Christine away from the roof. I was aware that this was the turning point in the story, but I also knew that I would scream if I heard any more.
I got up carefully, and made my way to the secret door as sly as a ninja. I slipped back through the door, and hurriedly tried to straighten myself up to look as if I had just come from the pandemonium still going on down below. I jogged in place for a moment, trying to get my breath speed up, to look at if I had just come all the way up the stairs, and jerked the main door open, cutting Christine off, mid-word.
"Christine!" I cried, sounding without difficulty, exasperated. "Oh Christine! Meg and Madame Giry and I… Oh… We thought… we thought… You have to come back down, we've been looking all over for you, and…" I hugged her, and tried to pull her back to the door, without giving Raoul a look, and I pretended not to notice his stare.
"Fleur… what… I…" Christine stuttered, not sure of what was going on.
"You must have heard! Buquet! Hung when you were dressing to take Carlotta's role! He dropped right on the stage, and everything's been a madhouse down in the hallways; I nearly got trampled just trying to get up here!" I added. I was pretty convincing, considering my heart was breaking.
"Fleur, I… tell Madame Giry and everyone else I'll be down in a bit…" She suddenly reddened and her gaze went from me to Raoul.
I followed her gaze as though for the first time seeing Raoul.
"Monsieur le Vicomte! I… I'm sorry… I beg your forgiveness…" I said blushingly, not saying Raoul's first name as to not freak Christine out.
I curtsied, and, with a heavy heart that was screaming "GO BACK! NO! DON'T LEAVE THEM!" I hurried through the door, and once the door shut, I sagged to the ground, swearing at random things.
I cursed the door for connecting the Opera House to the rooftop. I cursed the floor for carrying the 'happy couple'. I cursed everything in sight, and for the things I had no reason to curse, I swore at it for that reason. For the first time in either of my lives I wanted to be drunk. I wanted to forget all of this. I wanted to be home, wishing that I could be part of this, but content to stay where I was. I wanted to have privacy, to be able to swear aloud and yell and rage.
I sat there for a while, just cursing, and when my rear began to hurt from sitting, I cursed it too. I slowly got to my feet, and made my way down the stairs. My head hurt from thinking, my heart hurt because of Raoul and Christine, and the rest of my body ached from physical exertion.
I dumbly made my way back to the dormitories, and I flopped onto my bed, not paying heed to any of the commotion surrounding me. And so I lay there for some time, just staring at the ceiling, until Meg came in. "Fleur, what's wrong? You look like you've seen death, well you just did, but it looks like something else is wronged. What is it?" She asked, clearly concerned.
I sat up, and wondered for a moment if I could tell her. Tell her what I had been thinking in my mind for the past heaven knows how long. But I came to the conclusion I couldn't. I couldn't make her think wrong about me… I needed someone who wouldn't be horrified, who had seen it all… I needed… "Madame Giry." I said, not answering Meg's question. "Meg, I need to see your mother. It's very important."
Meg gave me a curious look, but obliged and led me to her mother's little room.
"Maman? Fleur needs to talk to you…" Meg said, entering Mme Giry's room.
Madame Giry looked up from the book she was reading and gave me an appraising stare, as if to figure out what was wrong just by looking at me.
"Meg, I believe Fleur needs to speak to me alone." Mme Giry said, speaking the words that I was thinking.
Meg nodded obediently and left the room, shutting the door behind her.
"Well, what is it?" Mme Giry said, indicating that I sit on a little ottoman.
"I… I think I'm in love." I said recklessly.
"That's always a good thing, but you wouldn't want to tell me that alone if there was not something more intricate involved." She said smartly.
I took a deep breath and said cautiously "I think I love the Vicomte…"
Mme Giry turned a harsh eye on me and asked sharply "Is it because of his money like the other girls?"
"No!" I said quickly, wondering how Mme Giry could have even guessed that about me.
"Then tell me about it."
"Well, you know that the Vicomte has been here an awful lot. Not just to see me, but also… also Christine."
There was a pause. I could tell Mme Giry was astonished.
"You're mooning after a man who loves another?"
"I… I don't know… I try to stay away, but when do I don't feel like me, and, and I know how terribly horrible this sounds, but when I see him with Christine I get so jealous and my heart feels like it's going to bust…" I rushed the last part out, in a hurry to get it over with.
"Has he led you on?" she asked wisely.
"Yes and no. He's been a great friend, but he's often hinted of more. He holds my hand, and he's very sweet… and oh I'm just mooning after him after all…" I said despairingly, admitting to the truth.
Mme Giry said nothing for a little bit, and she finally said "I think he's a fool for leading both of you girls on. You may think that you're only chasing him blindly, but he's still the one leading you on. Both of you. And now I might sound like a right mean lady, and I've seen Christine hurt, but I've also seen you hurt, but if you know that you love him, then you do what you must to get him."
I felt a rush of gratitude toward the lady in front of me. She understood me completely, and didn't give a round –a-bout answer or pinned me down with guilt like my mother would have.
"Oh Madame Giry… thank you so much…" I said, and bravely leaned forward to hug her.
To my surprise she didn't pull away, but she instead hugged back. It had been far too long since I had been hugged like this, and I wanted to remain like that forever, remembering how comforting my mother was at times, and how she hugged me like this every day but I took it for granted, shrugging her off.
She patted me on the back as if I were a small baby that needed burping, and then held me at an arms length.
"You should get back to the stage, Firmin and Andre are insisting that we perform the show again, and they're starting in half and hour… You had better hurry."
I nodded left without another word.
The Hallways were full of people, mostly the stage people who work here at the Opera Populare scrambling to locate cast members so the show could start again.
"Fleur! Get in the dressing rooms! We're starting again!" I heard one of the frantic workers yell at me.
I shouted that I was on my way there, but he was already rushing off, looking for the other ballerina's.
In the dressing room I tore off my ballet costume, pulled my costume on, quickly powdered up, slipped on my fake jewelry and then grabbed my wig and headed back to the stage.
The sets were already up and ready, but there were various cast members wandering like lost children, completely at lost for what to do.
"Christine!" I called, catching sight of Christine all decked out in Carlotta's pink cupcake costume.
"Fleur! Oh goodness, I'm so nervous about performing…." She said, grabbing my hands.
"Don't be a goose! It'll be easy. And remember, you can't see a thing because of the lime light." I said, smiling and managing to resist clawing her eyes out.
"No, I'm not afraid of singing, but I'm afraid of… of the Angel…" she finished the sentence in a whisper, not wanting anyone to hear.
"Don't worry," I said soothingly "He's going to be appeased that you're the Countess and Carlotta's the pageboy; he won't kill you, I promise." I said, telling the truth.
"You're probably right… I just hope so."
She hugged me, but I broke off quickly, hearing Firmin shout "Starting places!"
Christine obediently sat on the bed, waiting for Carlotta who came in at the last moment, looking incredibly disgusted.
I took up my position between Fredrikk and Richard, and waited for the music to begin, and the curtain to open….
The performance went amazingly smooth, and there were no incidents, unless you count me tripping up slightly during the ballet, but hopefully no one noticed.
We were taking our final bows, and everything seemed right, but over the applause I could hear laughter. Not the kind you would hear in the audience… but a maniacal laughter.
I looked up to the great chandelier, which was now swaying and flickering.
It suddenly took a violent jerk, and plunged down toward the stage. Toward us.
For the second time that evening I let out a piercing scream, which was accompanied by several others from the crowd.
The great mass of crystal was barreling along, and my automatic freezing was overruled by another force, an animal instinct that reacted before I knew what was happening.
I grabbed Christine and dove out of the way of the chandelier, pulling her onto the hard stage floor with me, right as it hit where she was standing.
She had been completely frozen, wide eyed and at loss of what to do, and despite the fact that I felt a complete hatred toward her, I knew I couldn't let her get hurt. I had already known she wouldn't die; no matter how pissed off Erik was he wouldn't kill Christine, he loved her too much, but I knew he wanted to hurt her as she had hurt him, and I couldn't forgive myself if I had aloud her to get hurt. And Erik dropping the chandelier proved that he had witnessed the whole rooftop scene.
The hard fall on the floor had jolted Christine's sense of movement back into her. She jumped up, pulling me with her, and ran off the stage as the fist of the flames ignited on the curtains.
--------------------------
Oh dear me, the accursed Erik for making the chandelier almost kill a few peoples…
Pretty please with sugar on top review! I wrote a lovely long chapter for ya'll!