That Face in the Mask
Chapter Four: Down Once More
A/N : Okay, just wanna warn you guys, I'll be using a mixture of modern style speech and 19th century speech in this chapter in the dialogue scenes. I know I'm doing it,so nobody flame me or anything in the reviews. Kay? All right, enjoy!
Disclaimer: Do you think I'm stupid enough to say I own the Phantom of the Opera?
--pause--
Don't answer that.
Meg awoke early the next morning. Her mother had already been up hours before she had, to Meg's dismay. She had wanted to sneak downstairs and visit that man again. Fortunately, her mother was leaving in a few minutes. She left Meg some breakfast she'd scrounged up from the kitchen, and helped her into her corset. Meg had to borrow one of Christine's gowns, a beautiful lavender long sleeved dress with some pale lilac lace trim and buttons, from the wardrobe, since all her gowns and dresses had burned up in the fire. Christine had a much slimmer waste and smaller bosom than Meg did, so Meg had to alter the gown a bit to fit her.
After a few minutes, her mother left to go assess the damages with Firmin and Andre. As soon as she was gone, Meg hurried over to the mirror and excitedly pushed it aside. The dark, dreary tunnel looked even longer and more frightening than the last time she had been in here, but Meg knew the way down to the underground. Still, it was very creepy and Meg was proceeding with extreme caution.
When she finally arrived at the moat, she realized she had a minor problem: there was no way to cross it without getting completely soaked to the skin. She couldn't get this dress wet; the fabric was so sheer, it would leave a watermark stain and that would look too suspicious. Finally, she decided if she wanted to go see that man, she just had to stop worrying and swim across the moat. She gathered up her dress and petticoat in her arms so high that her bloomers showed. She stepped into the moat and started swimming.
She finally arrived at the other end. There was a huge gate suspended half way above the water. It was pretty tight squeeze, but Meg knew she could make it. She shimmied under the gate and under the water and came up a few seconds later inside of the lair. She was trying to be as silent as possible.
Meg didn't know what to do now that she was actually here, until she saw that man again. He was sitting at the organ and had his back turned to her. Meg quietly sneaked over and crouched down behind some candles to watch him.
Suddenly, the man stopped playing and cried out frustrated, banging on some of the keys, loudly. Meg winced. He threw a few pieces of sheet music off the organ.
A moment later, the man was perfectly calm again. He closed his eyes for a moment, and then started playing a beautiful, enchanting song. Meg felt hypnotized while she listened, and closed her eyes as this man's velvety smooth voice quietly sang:
Nighttime sharpens
Heightens each sensation
Darkness stirs
And wakes imagination
Silently the senses
Abandon their defenses
Slowly, gently
Night unfurls
It's splendor
Grasp it, sense it
Tremulous and tender
Turn your face away
From the garish light of day
Turn your thoughts away
From cold, unfeeling light
And listen to
The music of the night
Meg sighed softly and continued listening. The man had the voice of an angel.
Close your eyes and surrender
To your darkest dream
Purge your thoughts of the life
You knew before
Close your eyes
Let your spirit
Start to soar
And you'll live
Like you've never
Lived before
Softly, deftly
Music shall caress you
Hear it, feel it
Secretly possess you
Open up your mind
Let your fantasies unwind
In this darkness
That you know
You cannot fight
The darkness of
The music of the night
Meg studied the man for a moment, gently swaying in time with the music. He had dark, jet black hair that was slicked back stylishly. His loose, white open style poet shirt showed off a bit of his chest and muscular figure that she could see from the few times he turned to the side. This man was very handsome, and extremely talented. He would make a wonderful husband, Meg thought dreamily. Instantly, she shook the thought from her mind, and listened to the heavenly music, lulling her into a deep trance.
Let your mind
Start a journey
Through a strange new world
Leave of thoughts
of the world
You knew before
Let your soul take you
Where you long to be
Only then
Can you belong to me
The man's voice intensified with the swell of the music, and then quickly broke dow and became softer, more alluring.
Floating, falling
Sweet intoxication
Touch me, trust me
Savor each sensation
Let the dream begin
Let your darker side give in
To the power of the
Music that I write
The power of
The music of the night
You alone can make
My soul take flight
Help me make
The music of the-
Meg watched as the man finally broke down and started crying, with a sob so hard it shook his whole body. He drew in short ragged breaths, and Meg knew he was trying to sing the final note, but he couldn't. So, she stood up, revealing her hiding place, and softly sang
"Night"
in her high soprano voice.
He turned around sharply to face her, wiping the tears from his eyes furiously, his sadness quickly turning to anger.
"What are you doing down here again! I told you to leave me alone! Get out you little wench!"
Meg crossed her arms and remained silent, glaring at him "I thought perhaps you might enjoy some company since you must be lonely being alone down here all the time"
"What I do and the conditions I choose to live in are none of your business nor concern!"
"Well, you seemed very sad and lonely, and I thought-"
"I don't give a damn what you thought! Leave me alone!" he screamed at her
Meg walked over closer to him "Maybe if you had someone to spend time with, you wouldn't be so damn mean and upset all the time. I think you're a rather interesting man, and I would like to get to know you better"
The man was both shocked and speechless at her statement. A beautiful young woman like her actually, willingly, wanted to get to know him better? It couldn't be true. There had to be some reason she had said that.
Trying to disguise the surprise in his voice, he cleared his throat and said " Well, that's your own misfortune. I'm not very social, and I don't keep much company. So, if you'll excuse me." he said, standing up off the organ bench and pushing past Meg
Meg stood there "You can't run away from people forever monsieur."
He laughed cruelly "No, mademoiselle, you have it backwards. Usually it's people who are running away from me"
"Funny, my mother didn't" Meg said coldly
The man looked up and starred at her for a moment, until he finally stuttered out '"You-You're Annette Giry's daughter, aren't you?"
"Yes, I am" Meg said coolly, crossing her arms
" My god. She was the only person that- wait, does she know you're down here?"
"What do you think?" Meg answered saucily
The man laughed "Oh ho, spirited little thing, aren't you. Well, do you have a reason for going behind you mother's back and sneaking down here to see a man you don't even know?"
Meg blushed since he put it that way, realizing how bold it sounded "Well, no, I suppose I don't"
"I see" he said, trying not to laugh
Meg was getting angrier by the minute "Well at least I actually even want to be in your company and good graces, which is more than you can say about your other friends. Oh wait, you don't HAVE any, do you? And, considering the fact that you murdered countless people, completely destroyed my home, put my best friend in danger and then did god knows what with her and the Vicomte, and I STILL would like to spend time with you, possibly as a friend, I would think that's rather nice, wouldn't you?"
The man could feel his face getting hot with shame. It was all true. He really had did all that she said he did, and more she didn't even know about. But who did she think she was, bursting down here, spying on him and then insulting him?
He cleared his throat uncomfortably as he tried to think of an intelligent remark. Unfortunately, he couldn't. The girl gave him a furious look, with a slight bit of pity, and turned to leave. He realized there was only one thing he could do to get out of this without making the girl even more furious than she was already. And no matter how much this was going to hurt his pride, he knew what he had to do.
Apologize
He sighed and closed his eyes, rubbing his forehead "I'm sorry"
She turned around, unbelievably "What did you say?"
He glanced down at the floor, not daring to meet her eyes "You heard me. I'm sorry. I admit, I am very temperamental and violent at times and i shouldn't have insulted you or any of the other inappropriate things I said or did to you. I realize that, and I also realized I am very lonely and would so enjoy the pleasure of someone's else's company, especially yours, and i don't want to let my stupid pride ruin it. I apologize"
Meg was a bit taken aback by this. Damn it, that man had a way with words. Meg sighed "I suppose it would be very rude not to accept an apology as heartfelt and sincere as that. I accept, and I also apologize. I am afraid I'm a bit stubborn and rude at times also"
"A trait we both share, I see" The man said. They both started laughing. Meg walked over closer to him
"Want to start over?"
He sighed with relief "Yes, I would like that very much." He cleared his throat and tried to sound as formal as he could with laughing " Excuse me mademoiselle, but I don't believe we've met before. Your name is..."
"Meg Giry" she responded "And you are..."
"Erik. Erik Tuchante"
Meg smiled "What a lovely name. It'll be so nice to refer to you as something other than "Phantom" or "That man"
Erik chuckled "Actually, I don't really have any idea what my given name is. I didn't have very strong, uh, family relations, if you even want to call them that, so I made a name for myself."
"Well, it's very nice. It sort of,um, flows?" Meg said, trying to be formal
"Why, thank you. I'm not sure if anyone's ever told me that one before" Erik struggled to get the words out, his shoulders shaking with his effort of trying not to laugh.
Meg broke the ice and burst out laughing " All right already, it was a stupid comment. Can we lease stop trying to be formal already?"
Erik started chuckling "Fine by me. Formality isn't my best trait anyway"
He moved over to sit down at the small table beside his organ and pulled out a chair for Meg to sit on. She gratefully accepted "My, what an ...interesting place to live" she said
He scoffed " I know. Not the usual location. Or design. Basically, not the usual anything. Afraid I've never been a very usual person"
"I know. That's what makes you so attractive." Meg blurted out. She covered her hand with her mouth as her face immediately started to turn bright red.
Erik stared at her "You think I'm attractive" he said disbelievingly "Have you by any chance even seen the right side of my face?"
Meg stammered as she tried to come up with a logical explanation. Oh why did this man always have to twist her words around ( even if she had really thought he was slightly attractive, possibly sexy), and why did her brain turn to mush and her knees shake whenever he looked at her like that? Frantically, she tried to explain her choice of words
"I-I just meant you had so many attractive... qualities! You're so musically talented and attractively smart and very attractively strong and so sex- have such an attractive personality!"
My god, how many more times could she have possibly used the word "attractive"? And why had she almost said he was "So sexy"? Did she really feel that way about him, or was her overactive imagination running away with her again?
Erik was shocked. Could this young girl- woman really be attracted to him? A deformed horrid monster most people cowered in fear of? Well, save Madame Giry. And Christine. Oh god, Christine. He had actually managed to forget about her the few minutes he'd been speaking with this delightful woman? Did he really feel a small attraction to this pretty young thing? Or was he simply looking for some thing, someone to fill the emptiness and aching he felt for Christine?
Snapping back to reality, a bit flustered from the woman's compliments, he may add, he cleared his throat awkwardly "Why, thank you. That was a very kind, uh, detailed description of someone whom you've only met about ten minutes ago. Are you certain you didn't assume a few things there?"
Meg started fiddling with the cross necklace she always wore around her neck "Well, perhaps I did. It's just, Christine described her angel as perfect, so strong and mysterious. She was quite fond of you"
"Not so fond" Erik responded
"Yes she was. She really quite adored you."
"Not as much as she adored that precious Vicomte of hers" Erik said, before he could stop himself.
Meg looked up "What do you mean by that?"
Erik sighed. Was he really ready to reveal what had occurred between Christine, the Vicomte and him that night? This soon. He hadn't even told Annette, or even contacted her. He hardly even knew this girl. What if she was just claiming to be Annette's daughter? What if she was just flirting. There were too many risks.
But, he needed to be honest with someone. The girl was desperate to know what'd happened to Christine. There was no denying how concerned she was for her best friend. Maybe, if he revealed what'd happened down here that night, the painful, stinging memory might be easier to let go of. Ah, what the hell. He needed to put the past behind him. But, she didn't need to know the whole story. He'd just... omit a few minor details
Erik leaned back "Well, you know that night of Don Juan, Christine was kidnapped, the chandelier crashed, everything else that happened?"
"Yeah"
"Well, I was somewhat very, okay, extremely personally involved with some of the events that occurred, including Christine's and the Vicomte's mysterious disappearance"
Meg leaned forward anxiously "What happened that night? Something went on, didn't it?"
" It's not just something to me. It changed everything. I was.. well, never mind. I'm not ready to go into that yet. But, more on the subject, after I brought Christine down here-"
"Brought?" Meg objected, raising an eyebrow
"Okay, forced. So, the Vicomte somehow miraculously made his way down here. (I was frankly amazed he sur- got himself down here, considering his limited knowledge.) Anyway, a few harsh words were exchanged between Christine and myself when the Vicomte came into the picture. One thing led to another, and well, Christine was forced to make a... hasty decision concerning her future with either the Vicomte or me. And, she..decided.
She and the Vicomte left, leaving me behind,... alone. She choose him... over me and I... completely...supported her...decision, it was what she... who she... wanted to be with. They left,...together, off to start their...new married ...life... together"
Erik was trying to get through this without crying from the pain, but he couldn't stop his voice from breaking with emotion. He remained silent for a moment. Meg was realizing how much this man had gone through. He must have truly loved Christine.
After a few minutes, she awkwardly continued the conversation "Well, what happened to you? I mean, after they were..gone? Where'd you go?"
"Oh, that. I just hid in one of the many secret tunnels down here no one ever thought to look in until the mob had left. Well, almost all of the mob had left. A nosy young woman stayed behind looking for me and just decided to take my mask. I had to get that back, so I came out from hiding. She was quite the persistent little thing."
Meg laughed and blushed at the same time at the reference of their first meeting. " Well, excuse me for being curious. I can't help it!" She playfully leaned across and lightly slapped his arm, not really for any particular reason except that she wanted to touch him. Fearing that she was being bit too obvious and happy, especially after what he'd just confided in her, she leaned back and became serious again.
They both sat for a few minutes in silence. Meg looked around at the surroundings a bit. She so didn't want to go back upstairs to the normal world again. Being down here with him was almost like being transported into a surreal fantasy, something she could only imagine. She didn't want to leave yet. Meg could now understand why Christine always seemed like she was never really here, always imagining herself somewhere else after she'd finished her music lessons with her mysterious tutor. Who would want to stay in the real world when they could imagine themselves here, in this almost magical dwelling?
But, it would seem quite rude to stay down here much longer. She couldn't bear the invisible barrier of tension and anxiety between them. It was almost like they were from different worlds.
Erik looked up at Meg "Uh, Meg?"
"Yeah?"
"You mind if I have a sip of brandy? Suddenly feel like I really need it"
Meg smiled "Nah, go ahead. You probably need one after having to recall all those painful things."
Erik stood up and walked over to the liquor cabinet, unlocked it and grabbed the nearest bottle and a long stemmed glass. Meg called over
"Hey, bring over another glass over for me too. I could use a swig"
Erik raised his eyebrows at her unladylike request, but he grabbed another glass for her and sat back. He popped the bottle open and poured some in his and Meg's glass. He sipped his slowly, feeling the burning liquid rush down his throat, but Meg downed her glass quickly in one gulp and shoved her glass back down on the table, wiping her mouth with her sleeve.
Erik tried not to laugh as he starred at her in shock "Where'd you learn to drink like that?"
"Hey, when you spend all your time in the wings watching stagehands do it, you eventually pick up on it. Sometimes me and the other ballet girls used to challenge them to drinking contests, unwisely because usually they'd beat us and it was usually right before we performed!"
Erik laughed "I recall on some occasions a few of the dancers did seem kind of tipsy." He poured himself some more brandy "Hey, does Annette know you drink?"
Meg scoffed and poured herself another glass " No. She'd probably beat the living daylights outta me if she knew the half of what I used to do with the other girls in the dressing rooms and at rehearsal. You learn a lot of life lessons when you're just waiting backstage with a bunch of guys."
She realized what that last sentence was suggesting she'd done, and so did Erik, so he quickly changed the subject " That's uh, not your dress, is it? Looks kind of familiar"
Meg glanced down at what she was wearing. She'd hardly looked at herself or paid attention to what she had on up until this minute "No, it's not mine. Technically it's one of Christine's old dresses, altered a bit to fit me. All my clothes were destroyed in the fire."
Erik nodded "Yeah, I remember her wearing it a few years ago. Looked good on her, but it looks even greater on you. Kinda, fits you very well, if you know what I mean"
Meg smiled. It was true, the dress was a built for someone smaller than her, and it hugged her curves rather tightly. But, she thought Erik was being a bit wicked to talk about it openly to her "Let's, uh, change the subject"
Erik laughed "We really can't find anything "proper" or "suitable" to talk about here, can we?"
"No. Well, what do you wanna talk about?"
"Anything's fine by me."
So, Meg and Erik spent a few hours down there, talking about anything, everything they thought about, openly and comfortably. Which got much easier the more brandy they both had to drink. Eventually, they realized how drunk they both were, and laughed. Meg eventually thought about how in a few short hours how much they had both gotten to know the other so much better, like old friends almost. Erik realized this too, but neither of them actually said it out loud. Meg couldn't believe she was actually friends with the.. the Phantom of the Opera. What had she been thinking when she came down here? Oh well. It was just a wonderful twist of fate that this had happened, and Meg was thankful it did. Erik couldn't believe he had actually called this charming, intelligent, lovely young woman a wench and some other unpleasant names. And to think she'd still persisted in getting to know him. Oh well. What was done was done and most likely forgotten. Erik was just thankful he'd gotten to know her.
After a while, when they were out of topic for conversation and not so drunk, Meg gasped "Oh no! What time is it?"
Erik pulled a pocket watch out of his black vest he kept on a nearby chair. "Almost noon. Why?"
Meg hurriedly stood up "Oh, great god, Mother will kill me, I've been gone far too long! I have to go back upstairs. It's already far too late."
Erik sighed. He'd been dreading the moment he knew she would leave. He stood up. "I suppose you have to go. Quickly now."
Meg hurried over to the moat. Erik called out to her "Wait. Meg, what the hell are you doing?"
She turned around and looked at him "How else should I go back upstairs?"
"You do know there are about five or six other tunnels you can take to go from upstairs to here and remain completely dry, right?"
Meg began to blush and smiled sheepishly "Of course I did"
Erik took her arm and guided her over to the far right of the lair, pulling back a tapestry to reveal a huge hidden tunnel "Go straight through here, right, left, then right again, up the stairs, and that will lead you straight behind the mirror in the dressing room"
Meg gazed at him skeptically
" What? You don't believe me? Meg, I've spent most of my life here, exploring every possibly tunnel and route there is. I know this place from top to bottom" Erik said exasperatedly
Meg blinked sharply " Of course I believe you. It's just, that's so amazing how many different things you know about this place"
Erik scoffed "You would too if you spent most of your life hiding in the shadows"
They both gazed at each other for a moment, until Meg suddenly remembered where she needed to be going, and so did Erik.
" Goodbye, Meg"
" Au revior Erik"
Meg started to hurry along the tunnel as Erik moved back into the lair, when she stopped and ran back "Erik wait!"
He turned around "Meg, what? You need to go, now!"
"I know but, when could I come visit you again?"
Erik hid back a smile. Only a woman could think of something as irrelevant as that in this tense situation. But, he couldn't help but be pleased with the fact she wanted to come back again. "Whenever you like Meg, I'll be here. Just be sure to leave your calling card. You know how many social calls I get"
Meg smiled at his sarcasm "I'll come again soon. Goodbye!" she called. She picked up her skirts and started running down the tunnel. Erik leaned over a bit and caught a quick glimpse of her small stocking ankle and gorgeous leg. He shook his head and sat down at the organ bench, but he didn't play. He found his thoughts wondering to Meg. She was very beautiful. Not as much as Christine though. Their features were blandly different. But, Meg was beautiful in her own way though. Erik wondered: could he actually be falling in love with Meg? Or did he simply love her because she reminded him of Christine?
Christine. Her name tugged at his heartstrings, reminding him how lonely he was. Of course, this morning had been quite enjoyable. He couldn't remember ever laughing so hard or having so much fun with Christine. But, of course, he was always at a professional level with Christine, being her music tutor and (supposedly) angel. He hadn't the chance to ever talk to her, get to know her, what she liked, disliked, her memories, her pleasures. He learned all that from secretly watching her.
He doubted he could say he was in love with Meg after one visit. He hardly knew her. And he most certainly had never believed in all that love at first sight nonsense. How could he, never actually being loved by anyone? True, Christine had shown him a taste of love and emotion when she kissed him, but that was just a ploy to get him to release her and her beloved Vicomte. It wasn't really love. Love was feeling so enchanted, intoxicated almost. Love was doing anything for someone you loved, anything, all that they asked of you. Love was knowing someone cared for you, desired you, wanted you.
No, Erik scoffed. He wasn't in love. He couldn't be in love. Remember, he thought, how betrayed and alone love left you last time with her. Alone, miserable, despising everything, shattering all you'd ever known was safe and secure. It practically killed you. You can't go through that again. You can't!
But, what if his love for Christine wasn't truly love? What if it was just a strong attraction, fondness, obsession maybe. What if it was just a lust, a sexual yearning for the first woman to care for you?
What if being in love meant getting a second chance?
