The Phantom of the Opera: Chapter 5
Disclaimer: DC Comics owns "Teen Titans." Gaston Leroux owns the original story of "The Phantom of the Opera." Andrew Lloyd Webber owns the musical version. I own whatever I write/create. Don't steal and don't sue.
A/N: If some original characters in this story confuse you, please refer to my story "Book of Demons" for more information about them.
Starfire let her fingers rest on the keys of the piano. Gently, she pressed down on a single key. The resulting note was high and perfectly tuned, and the sound lingered even after she lifted her hand. For a moment, she looked at her hand. There was such a remarkable contrast between the soft golden shade of her skin and the stark white of the keys. Raven was so pale her fingers seemed to blend in with the keys as she played.
Mind turned to Raven once more, Starfire touched the fingers that the masked woman had kissed. Her thoughts began to drift, and she wondered what it would be like to kiss Raven. She entertained this idea for quite some time before fully realizing what she was thinking. Her cheeks flushed scarlet, but she could not push the image from her mind. It was blindingly vivid.
She could see her hands reaching up to touch Raven's cheeks. She could see Raven's dark eyes staring into her, so strong and sure. She could even see herself leaning forward to press her lips to Raven's, but the image was always cut short by the presence of the white mask. With her thoughts unable to stop replaying the image, Starfire grew frustrated at the mask.
There was no reason she could think of that made her understand why the mask needed to exist. It was perfect to portray the Opera Ghost, but she could not think of why Raven continued to wear it. Starfire frowned, standing from the bench. She strode into the parlor and sat in the chair, determined to carry out her developing plan but patient enough to wait for Raven to return.
A knock on the doorframe mere minutes later made her look up. Raven stood there, smiling at her. She carried two packages: one parcel under her left arm, and a sack over her right shoulder. She bowed slightly before walking to the table in the middle of the room.
"Here," she said as she quickly rifled through the larger of the packages. She held out the violet dress to Starfire, smiling. "I'll have something set out by the time you come back." It was a simple command that left no room for discussion. Starfire took the dress and went away to change, thinking all the while of how best to breach the subject of the mask.
A plate laden with food and a glass filled with dark red wine were set upon the table when she returned to the parlor. Raven gestured to the chair she had moved to stand by the table with a small smile on her face. When Starfire sat down, Raven pushed the chair forward.
"I'm sure you're hungry," she murmured. "Please, eat."
"Thank you." She began to eat, becoming abruptly aware of her hunger. The food was simple: cold chicken and soft bread with a good red wine. It was some time before Starfire realized that Raven was standing against a wall. She paused, looking at the masked woman. "Surely you must be hungry as well?"
"No," Raven said simply. Starfire lowered her gaze to the plate before her.
"Are you all right?" she asked anxiously. Raven chuckled.
"I don't eat much," she replied.
"Does—does your mask get in the way?" There was a long silence that followed her question. Starfire did not look up at Raven, resisting the urge to do so every moment.
"It does."
"Then why not take it off? You—"
"No." The coldness that had entered Raven's voice drew Starfire's eyes up. There was a frown on her face and her eyes were closed. "I want you to understand something. You are never to touch my mask. You are never to try to take it from me. Things will be well between us if you do as I say. Do you understand?"
"Yes." Raven heard the blend of emotions in Starfire's voice. She heard the dejection and the resignation that was obvious in that single word, but the thing she heard clearly was the faint fear. The smallest waver in that one word was the sharpest dagger. Held by the love she felt for the young woman, it cut away her anger and gave part of her reason to sneer triumphantly.
You've frightened her, the voice in her ear laughed. She pushed the thought away and walked to the table. The empty sacks lay across from Starfire's plate, held down by the script for Il Muto. She picked the script up and thumbed through it until she sensed Starfire's eyes on her.
"I've learned that you're going to be the countess," she said conversationally. "Once you're done, we'll practice." Starfire nodded, beginning to eat in earnest once again.
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"No, no, no! You stupid girls—you're in my way! Oh, for God's sake!" Jinx threw her hands into the air, shaking her head with a frustrated sigh. Malchior cleared his throat, looking pointedly at Blood. The conductor dabbed at his forehead with a handkerchief and nodded.
"Chaos, tell your precious corps de ballet to move!" he snapped. "They're in Mademoiselle Jinx's way!"
"But she's upstage in this scene!" Bumblebee protested.
"You are still in my way!" Jinx replied. "I don't know why a stupid child like you is even taking part in this production! A silent role is too much, even for you!"
"How dare you!" Bumblebee cried. "You act so high and mighty, but we all know that Starfire is much better than you are!" Jinx's pale face turned an ugly beet red. She started to advance on the younger woman, her hand rising up.
"That's enough." Jinx gasped as a hand closed around her wrist. She whirled about, staring at Chaos with wide eyes. With a cold sweat breaking out under the stare of Chaos's red eyes, Jinx jerked her hand away.
"You do not command me!" she snarled. "And your dancers are the ones who started all of this—you and your precious Starfire! Tell them to stop, not me!"
"I meant that we've done enough for today," Chaos said. "It's a new production. It's grown late, and we're all tired. Even you are tired, mademoiselle." Chaos's voice was so low, soothing, and reasonable that Jinx found herself nodding. As she nodded, she felt her anger being replaced by the weariness that had accumulated throughout the long day. "Yes. A rational woman like you understands." Jinx smirked at the praise, continuing to nod. "Rehearsal is over for today, everyone. Thank you for all the work you've done. We'll start from where we left off tomorrow morning."
The cast broke apart, a low buzz of ambient noise filling the stage. Jinx swept away, calling for Malchior to bring her furs to her. Bumblebee and Terra watched them depart with disgust plain on their faces. When the two had vanished into the side passages, Bumblebee turned to look at Chaos.
"How can you call her a rational woman?" she demanded. "She's—she's—"
"Extraordinarily gullible," Chaos remarked with a smile. She winked at the young woman, who stood with a confused expression on her face. "You'd be very surprised at how well I can lie." Bumblebee stared a moment longer before bursting into laughter. The laughter was infectious; Terra began to giggle uncontrollably. Chaos smiled at them. "We're done for today. Go ahead and do what you please." The young women curtseyed, still laughing, before hurrying away. Chaos watched them, knowing perfectly well that they were following a roundabout path to the offices.
It was plain that the duo had come to see Beast Boy and Cyborg as more than the managers of the Opera House. It was just as obvious that the two men favored Terra and Bumblebee. As the mentor for most of their lives, Chaos was glad to let the young women pursue the men they cared about. While some could consider such actions scandalous, Chaos was loath to keep happiness from those who deserved it.
When the young women had disappeared, the smile on her face slipped away. She strode to the nearest spiral staircase and wound her way up it, two steps at a time. After reaching the top of the staircase three levels up, she leapt out to the catwalks above the stage. The catwalks were narrow and took a steady stride to tread. Most stagehands did not have the skill to keep their footing on the shaky planks and manipulate backdrops and set pieces.
Mammoth, despite his half-wittedness, was one of the people most skilled in the Opera House at this task. He was therefore nicknamed the lord of the flies, and was the man who was responsible for the movement of the backdrops and hanging set pieces during rehearsals and performances. There were only two people who were more surefooted on the catwalks than Mammoth.
Chaos was by far the nimblest. There was no difference between the way she walked on the catwalks and the gait she maintained on the ground. She strode calmly, her steps measured and easy. The planks barely moved under her feet, her footfalls sounded by the crisp snaps the heels of her boots made with each step. She looked back and forth, examining the ropes holding up various things. Every rope was strong and secure; no chances would be taken with Jinx returned to the Opera House and a new production underway.
She pulled herself up a rope, rising to the highest level in the Opera House. The levels below prevented any outside light from reaching the stage. Red light from the setting sun poured in from the skylights set in the ceiling. Chaos stood still for a moment, savoring the silence and surrealism of the red light. She went into the room that held the controls, chains, and ropes for the great chandelier. Everything was coated in dust. She did not touch anything, crossing through the room to exit through another door.
High above the amphitheater, another catwalk ran round the circumference of the domed ceiling. It was finely built, painted with the ceiling's fresco to blend in and disappear to all but a trained eye. A person could climb out on a nearby rope to check on the chandelier, but Chaos did no such thing. She gazed down, leaning on the catwalk's railing. A vague smile touched her face. Of all the places she had been, the Paris Opera House was her favorite.
"Chaos!"
"Madame Dolan!" She pulled herself out of her reverie, recognizing Bumblebee and Terra's voices. They were standing on the vacant stage, looking about and pacing back and forth.
"Up here!" she called out. The young women turned and scanned the high catwalk, spotting her easily because of the contrast between her black clothing and the bright fresco painting.
Bumblebee cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted, "Messieurs Logan and Stone are looking for you! They said it's important!" Chaos frowned, feeling the unease that had been with her since waking intensify.
"I'll be in their office in five minutes." She disappeared from their sight. The two young women looked at each other nervously.
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Chaos had only to see Jinx to guess why the managers had called both she and Kali into their office. She kept her face impassive, and remained standing when invited to sit beside Kali. Jinx stood behind the managers, a smile on her face. Cyborg cleared his throat and rubbed his hands together, massaging the place where his false hand connected to his wrist.
"Thank you for coming so promptly," he said.
"I try to be punctual," she replied. The wry remark earned her a nervous smile from Beast Boy.
"That's good," he muttered. A moment of silence began. Cyborg and Beast Boy would not meet Chaos's eyes, and they refused to glance toward Kali.
"This is about le Vicomte de Wayne." Cyborg and Beast Boy looked up. Chaos smiled slightly at the surprise she had brought about with her words.
"Um, yes, it is," Beast Boy admitted.
"Monsieur Robin informed us that you threatened him last night," Cyborg said, leaning forward. "That you were going to forcibly remove him from the Opera House. Is this true?"
"Yes," Chaos replied. The two men's mouths fell open in shock. Jinx's smile grew wider.
"Can—can you explain your actions?" Beast Boy asked, his voice cracking.
"I can," Chaos said. "May I assume that the viscount claimed that he had plans with Mademoiselle Starfire?" The managers nodded. "Ah. I see. My good messieurs, let me explain Starfire to you. She is a very strong girl, but the performance she gave last night was her first. I and two other girls had to escort her to her dressing room to make sure she did not collapse on her way there. You know Bumblebee and Terra, do you not?"
"We do," Cyborg replied simply.
"Of course. My apologies that I would question your knowledge." She put a hand over her heart and bowed her head. The gesture was so humble and sincere that the men nodded quickly to accept it. "As I said, Starfire was exhausted. Despite that, I still believe that she will be fully prepared to play the role of the countess in Il Muto when she returns."
"If she returns," Jinx snapped.
"Mademoiselle, please!" Cyborg said. Jinx snorted and crossed her arms, looking away from Chaos. "Madame Dolan, this does not fully explain why you threatened the viscount."
"My apologies once more. One thing you must understand about my methods of handling my dancers is that I give them a large measure of freedom to do as they please. Despite this, I am kept informed of their dealings—either by their telling me directly or hearing of it indirectly. Starfire is very good at keeping me informed of her plans, and before Monsieur Robin told me of his dinner plans as an excuse for trying to break into her room—"
"What?" Cyborg interjected.
"He was trying to break into Starfire's dressing room," Chaos explained. "I was going to check on Starfire when I saw him try the door. It was locked—I suppose Starfire had locked it after I left the first time—and he was going to break it down. I took him by the back of his tie, asked to know what he was doing, and he claimed that he had plans to go to supper with Starfire. When I asked him when he made his plans, he replied that it was none of my business and demanded that I give him the key to her room or leave."
Silence swelled up and dominated the room. Once or twice, Beast Boy opened his mouth to speak, but closed it when he could not find the proper words. The two men could find no reason to disregard her. She spoke plainly, and the absolute sureness of her voice assuaged their doubts. After a moment, they wondered why they had questioned her at all.
"If I'm no longer needed, messieurs?" Chaos prompted. She turned slightly, pausing when she saw Kali. "Unless you also wanted to inform me that you're finally going to give Kali a decent wage?" She winked furtively at the gray-haired woman, who smiled in return.
"She's fired," Cyborg said. He shuffled a stack of papers before him. After a moment, he sighed and leaned back in his chair, eyes still fixed on the papers. "Mademoiselle Jinx has been kind enough to inform us that Madame Kali refuses to sell Box Five, even when ordered to do so."
"Monsieur Slade never ordered—" Cyborg cut Kali's protest short with a dismissive wave.
"She has also told us that Kali is the person responsible for the 'delivery' of fifty-thousand francs to Box Five every month. While we are not saying that she has taken this money, it has disappeared regardless."
"The Opera Ghost is the one who takes it!" Kali protested.
"The Ghost does not exist!" Jinx snapped in return. Before Kali could say anything else, Cyborg held up his hand for quiet.
"You are hereby relieved of your duties," he said. "We already have a replacement for you."
"I assume they're going to be paid a proper salary as a reward for already selling off Box Five?" Wide eyes turned to Chaos, who stood with a smile on her face. Beast Boy, Cyborg, and Jinx could not stop themselves from drawing instinctively backwards. The smile she gave was one that showed off how remarkably sharp and pronounced her canine teeth were. Her eyes were not bright with humor, instead dark with ice in her glare.
"Madame Dolan, are you questioning the judgment of Monsieur Logan and myself in this matter?" Cyborg asked in a low murmur. Chaos's smile grew darker.
"Absolutely, my good messieurs," she murmured. "What makes you believe that this is a good idea?"
"The Opera House has been losing money," Beast Boy said. "This has to stop!"
"You'd rather infuriate the Opera Ghost than lose money?" She turned her gaze to Jinx, who started when the red eyes met hers. "You should know better than any of us what happens when the Opera Ghost is angered."
"These incidents you're referring to are nothing more than accidents," Cyborg said shortly. "We have made our decision, and we will not be swayed by superstitious fairy tales!" Chaos looked at him a moment.
"Very well," she said. "If you've made your decision. Kali, come with me." She walked to the other woman, who had not budged an inch since her dismissal. With a gentle hand, she touched Kali's cheek. Kali stood mechanically, taking hold of Chaos's proffered arm.
"Madame Dolan, she is no longer employed here," Cyborg snapped. "Unless you mean to escort her from the building, I do not understand the reasons behind this wholly inappropriate behavior."
"Kali has no home beside mine," Chaos replied. "I will not let her go." Cyborg opened his mouth to protest further, but the rage that had built in Chaos's eyes stopped him. He waved his hand while looking at his desk, and the two women departed.
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Raven sat playing her piano. Her fingers slammed down on the keys with a fury that translated into the discordant sections she put into her masterpiece. It was an opera born of ten year's work: Don Juan Triumphant. For days and nights she would work nonstop, eager to finish her work. There was a stirring in her blood, whispering to her of how close she was to completing the opera. Her inspiration had become boundless five months ago when she first started to teach Starfire.
At that moment, even thinking of Starfire could not banish her rage. Hours earlier, with Starfire in bed asleep, Raven had gone on her self-appointed rounds of the Opera House. Everything, as she learned, had gone wrong. She heard the rueful mutterings of the ballet girls that Jinx was to be the countess. She heard of the insults Jinx imparted onto everyone. No one was spared: the dancers, the other singers, the managers, the varied employees of the opera House, and even Raven herself.
It was no surprise that there were scathing things said about Starfire. Despite that, Raven's hatred for Jinx multiplied with every passing moment. When she learned of what happened in the manager's office after rehearsal, she had stood with her hands clenched in white-knuckled fists for many minutes. Unwilling to hear anything more, she swept back down into the catacombs.
As she expected, there was a note on the table in the parlor when she returned. The crisp, neat handwriting confirmed what she had been hoping were mere rumors. Kali had been replaced by a simpering little twit by the name of Kitten, and Box Five had been sold off to le Vicomte de Wayne. Raven was unsure of what was more infuriating: that the idiot fop boy would be sitting in her private box, or that such an insult had been handed to Kali.
With Starfire sound asleep, she retreated to her soundproofed piano room and set about working on the opera. Raven allowed her fury to run wild, pounding on the keys and scratching the notes down so furiously that she tore more than one hole in her papers. When her thoughts turned to Starfire, her anger increased.
She wanted the young woman to love her. She wanted the world for her, and wanted to be able to give Starfire everything she could. Hatred welled within her as she thought of the love she held. She hated the world for shoving her caring aside into a category that was deemed unworthy. She hated herself for being what she was, unable to love Starfire freely because she was a woman and because of the stain of her blood. She hated her mask because Starfire hated it, wanting to tear it from her face but always holding back the urge. If there was any chance of Starfire loving her in any way, she could never see her face.
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Starfire woke with her heart pounding in her chest. Though Raven had captivated her mind before going to sleep, her dreams had been empty. An overwhelming sense of loneliness had pervaded every moment of her dreams. As she sat up in the bed, she thought back on the day. Raven had been withdrawn, her eyes distant and sad whenever Starfire saw them. Seeing the inexplicable mourning in the dark eyes had wounded Starfire deeper than anything she had ever known. She wanted to comfort Raven, but the mask and its frozen, stern expression stopped her from speaking.
In a trance, she stood from the bed and walked out of the room. Sound reached her, and she followed it as she had done that morning. The door to the piano room was slightly open, releasing the harsh notes of Raven's music. Starfire opened the door, careful to remain quiet even though the music was loud enough to mask every sound she made.
Raven was hunched over the keys, her cloak draped over her shoulders. Starfire found herself walking slowly toward the other woman, staring at her. There was an incredible passion in the music she played, and were Starfire not so utterly set upon her task, she would have been swept up in its fury. As she drew closer, she noticed the elegant curve of Raven's back. Part of her wanted to abandon her endeavor and simply touch the other woman, to lay her fingers on her back and caress her. The desire, one she would have thought unbelievable earlier in her life, urged her onward.
The mask could not stay if anything was to happen. She had to see Raven's face, had to know the woman without disguises. Her hands reached out, but Raven did not notice, her eyes closed. Starfire did not stop, her fingers touching the edges of the mask. Before Raven could move to stop her, before she could even open her eyes, Starfire pulled the mask away.
The clatter of the mask against the ground was lost in the cry of rage and pain that tore free of Raven's throat.
—to be continued—