:A/N: Argh, so Hitler's Strawberry doesn't read this anymore, huh? What a pity, it's actually getting interesting. And YES, he killed himself! Awww...

:Disclaimer: I don't own POTO.

:Claimer: Guess who.

:Beta-reader: Lady-Miranda-Van-Tassel

:Thanks to: Lady-Miranda-Van-Tassel and Robika.

: Far Cry :

: Chapter 16 : Sonata :

Maxime slowly approached the crowd that had formed at the stairs to the rehearsal rooms. A man dressed in black stood on top of the stairs with a certain expression on his face that already proclaimed that he had bad news. Some girls stood in front of him, mainly ballerinas from Maxime's class. When Maxime caught Meg's eyes, she stepped next to her.

"This cannot become official. His death MUST remain unspoken about. Even in this Opera. I don't want anybody of the present people to even lose a word about Monsieur Le Vicomte. It is bad enough that you have already found out about it, and though it does not matter why that is so, remain silent. I can only recommend to you to keep your mouth shut. If we find out about anybody breaking this new rule, we are not sorry at all to dismiss this person. Or even worse." He nodded and continued without giving further details, "it is not easy for all of us, I understand. But it is a tragedy, and we need to keep our Opera full of visitors. Rumors are already going around, and we certainly do not need such a reputation." The man nodded, tried to smile but failed and finally decided to leave. Slowly, the ballerinas went to their rooms and the man went back down, leaving the two of them alone in the hall.

Maxime turned to Meg. "Wait, this is about reputation? He died? But why-"

"Just don't lose a word about it. To nobody," Meg said with a dry voice.

Maxime noticed that Meg was very touched by the happenings and so stoked her cheek. "Please don't be sad about it. We didn't know him very well, did we?" And although she lied saying that, although she felt that something was wrong, and although she already knew she had caused all the trouble with the shady plan she had made with Erik, she felt that this situation required a certain amount of sensibility.

"I think this rule is good." Meg felt her stomach turn once more that day. After all the ballerinas had come back from Versailles, she had had to stop crying and come down to hear about the fabulous evening. When she had seen her mother, she barely looked at her to avoid letting her see any of her pain. It had been hard, but she aimed not to hurt her mother by Raoul's suicide. Surely, Antoinette would not only suffer but break. And although Meg loved Raoul, she needed her mother more than anything on earth and couldn't take losing her, too.

"But who is this man?"

"He's one of Monsieur Le Vicomte's partners. I talked to him about Monsieur's death. You see, I was the one the policeman spoke to. The policeman came back, telling him not to spread rumors or give any information."

"But how did they find out?"

"Unfortunately, I had already told some of the girls. I was so desperate that I didn't think of the consequences. Let us hope nobody else finds out about it."

Maxime nodded, feeling a pain in chest. "How did he die?"

"To be honest, it was suicide." Meg wiped away some tears that had formed in the corners of her eyes. "I can assure you that."

Maxime felt a slight shiver running down her spine and nodded. Was she responsible for this to any amount? Had her plans destroyed his life? What had happened? How could she only give into such stupid, childish plans that had obviously ruined a life, left alone what damage would be caused to Madame Giry. A thought crossed her mind. "Did you tell Madame?"

"No."

'I don't even know whether that is good or not,' Maxime thought, 'maybe it's better for her not to know.' With that, she stroke Meg's cheek again. "I have to go and talk to somebody. Don't be afraid, I won't tell anything," she lied. She had to tell Erik about it, no matter whether he wanted to see her or not. Both of them had ruined two people and they had to pay for it.

"See you around," Meg said and watched Maxime hurry away.

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Erik leaned back and stared at the papers in front of him. Some of them had the title "Moonlight Sonata" by Beethoven. Those he had used to compose a different piece of music, which was inspired by the "Moonlight Sonata" but felt different. He was angry with himself that Beethoven had composed the piece before he had a chance to. But then, the piece was too calm to fit his feelings.

The new piece had more pain in it and that was what Erik had intended. He had composed the new piece for Maxime to give his feelings the possibility to break out. Parts of it were full of love, others full of hate. But pain covered all of them. Some parts were much more aggressive, just like he was.

And so, Erik looked a last time on his new work, and wrote in big letters something on top of the very first page.

"Monstrosity's Sonata"

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Maxime cried as she snatched up the skirts of her dress as she ran down the stairs to Erik's lair. The tears seeped from her chin after they had made their way over her pale cheeks. She was unable to keep a single thought on her mind; they all spread in her head and decided to leave a second later. She could barely see through the tears.

The boat was at its usual position in the water as if it had been waiting for her, knowing that she'd desperately need it. The minutes felt like hours as she paddled through the dark water. When she finally reached the last corned she had to pass, her heart stopped beating. What she saw was almost more than she could take.

The liar was empty.

He had gone and had left nothing behind.

Slowly, Maxime paddled closer to the waterside. Getting out of the boat, she soaked her dress with cold water but didn't give it a single thought. Her eyes were wide open in pure horror, the tears had not even dried yet as they were followed by shock. There was, though, something white on the ground. She stepped closer, her heart beating hard against her chest. When she realised it was a piece of music and read the name of it, the lair was filled with a direful scream of deepest pain that would have forced any person down to their knees.

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