Totally not in the mood to update. I hope that doesn't affect the quality of the story. Also, I seem to have lost lots of readers. Makes me sad. Like thirty people have me on Author Alert, but I'm only getting around four reviews per chappie! If you're reading and not reviewing – please do so! It makes me happy!
EriksIngenue: You need to read Erik is Fired! by MetaChi. That's where the Siren and the paintball idea came from.
ElfLover: I guess she's just used to jeans and stuff. Think of what it would be like if suddenly you had to wear long, full dresses and corsets every day! And maybe it was Goethe's words (he wrote the play…book…words) and Gounod's music. I dunno. I wouldn't know.
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The next morning, Hana awoke surprisingly rested. She and Lefevre had gone through the entire libretto of Cinderella, and now she understood the music quite well. All she needed now was to memorize the music…and the blocking…and the cues…okay, so maybe she had a ways to go. And only a week to do it in.
That was where Erik came in.
She was going to depend on Erik entirely in order to memorize the music. Lord knew he'd drill it into her like there was no tomorrow. Because, in a way, there wasn't. Lefevre could handle the rest.
She always was quick at picking things up.
She slipped into a red dress as she thanked God the opera was in English. Hana secretly left off the corset for that day. She wasn't fat anyway. She could survive without it.
Hana headed off to her rehearsals, while someone watched from the shadows. The person watching slipped off to the cellars as Hana disappeared from sight.
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Nadir knocked on Erik's door. The Siren came swimming up to him, resting her arms on the edge of the lake.
"Hi, Persia," she said cheerily.
"Don't call me that," Nadir replied coolly.
"Well, fine," huffed the Siren. "See if Fred and I invite you to our next Twister party." She dove underwater, deliberately splashing him.
Of course, Erik opened the door at that exact moment, so she ended up splashing him too.
Erik spat out a small amount of water, a dark look on his face. The sopping wet Phantom invited the sopping wet Persian into the living room and shut the door.
"I need to decrease her pay," he muttered.
"You pay her?" Nadir said incredulously. "To do what?"
"Oh, nothing much," Erik said casually. "Watch the house, keep the lake tidy, drown intruders, tend the boat…"
Nadir clapped his hand to his face. "Lovely. Erik, I need to talk to you about something."
"Why now, daroga? I am halfway through a lovely violin solo, and I would dearly love to complete it. It's not every day I can write a full song in under a week. Or a month, at that." Erik sat down and crossed his legs in a way that would probably make a large number of phangirls faint.
Note that he was still wet.
Please pause as the authoress revives from her own faint.
Now then, Nadir placed his hands on his hips. Though Erik was a full-grown man, he still often felt like a chiding parent. The Opera Ghost could really be rather childish at times. And stubborn. Oh yes, quite stubborn.
"You haven't been paying any attention to Hana lately," Nadir said flatly.
"I gave her a rigorous lesson the other day!" burst Erik, insulted.
"That was two days ago, and that's not enough," said Nadir calmly.
"Why not? That was all I really agreed to do with her."
"But that's not what the contest was for," pushed the Persian. "You were supposed to fall in love with the winner, not just torture her with lessons!"
"Are you in league with the phangirls?" shouted Erik, standing up quickly. "My God, it's a conspiracy! I'll bet you were working with that Aislin girl this whole time!" He paused. "My lessons aren't torture."
"So what if I was?" Nadir said quietly. "You have to do something with her."
"Punjab her?" inquired Erik hopefully.
"Not that kind of something." Nadir sat down, and Erik reluctantly followed suit. "Do something special. Certainly, you must teach her the music, but don't play the cold teacher."
"What do you want me to do then?" Erik said, inspecting his fingernails.
"Take her out on a date!" volunteered the Siren, entering the house unnoticed and trailing water over the carpet.
Erik scowled. "I'm done with dates. It'll be years before I take another step into a restaurant unguarded, thank you very much."
"Fine." The Siren flopped onto the floor, and Erik frowned at the water soaking the carpet.
"That's going to smell later."
"Charming," Nadir put in. "But she's right. Make a bit of an effort. Do something legendary. Something worthy of the Phantom of the Opera!"
"Carry her off through the mirror to my house and imprison her for a week, perhaps?" he said dryly. "I wonder if Christine's wedding dress will fit her…"
"Great idea!" chimed the Siren.
"Oh, come now." Nadir rolled his eyes. He turned to Erik, and said in all seriousness, "Tonight, after her rehearsals, take her somewhere. Operas, hypnotic music, and ornate building designs come out of that imagination of yours. Surely you can use it to dream up one special night for the girl you yourself picked."
Erik sighed, overly tired by all this. "Fine," he agreed. "One night. This night. Then it's back to business. And I'll show you all that no matter what Christine may have done to me, I've still got it." He stood up. "Now get out of my house."
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Hana proudly informed Lefevre upon her arrival at rehearsal that she had memorized her entire aria in the first scene. He had applauded sardonically and congratulated her.
"Only an hour and forty-five minutes worth of music left," he had said.
All that rehearsal, he had worked on her blocking. With the rest of the cast, they planned out where she was to move at what times during the whole opera. Reciting lines off the script instead of singing, they ran through it until Carlotta started to complain. Then Lefevre sent Hana off to be fitted for her costumes. She only had two, and they were already made. All she had to do was stop in for alterations.
"You'll need to really crack down on that score with your teacher," Lefevre told her before she left. "Mlle. Aislin assured me that he was the best there was, but I'll be impressed if even he can get you to memorize the entire score by this Friday."
"Friday?" Hana gaped at him. "That's all the time I have left?"
Lefevre shrugged. "Get on it."
Nervous, Hana decided to work on the blocking first. She could handle the music with Erik.
She ran through it in her head. She successfully committed the entire first act to memory while being measured, though the second needed work. After the measurements, she headed off to her dressing room. She wasn't sure if Erik was going to give her a lesson that day, though she prayed for the sake of the people who had bought tickets to the opera that he was. She didn't know if he was still angry with her. Though he did take the time to bring her the music.
Hana turned up the lamp to illuminate the dimming light in her dressing room and lay down on the couch to rest a moment, grateful for the lack of corset.
Suddenly, the room grew dark. The flame of the oil lamp shuddered and nearly went out. Frightened, Hana jumped up. The whole room seemed to tremble, or maybe it was just Hana.
There was a sudden, extremely brief flash of light. Hana whipped around. To her surprise, the mirror was sliding open.
There stood Erik, cape, fedora, and all. He seemed to have carried the lake mists with him, and they swirled around him, filling the tiny room.
I am your angel of music…Erik smirked, his golden eyes twinkling in the dark as the lamp finally blew out. He extended a pale hand to a dazzled Hana.
Come to me, Angel of Music…He wasn't actually saying it, of course, but the words were running endlessly through Hana's mind as she took his cold hand and let him pull her through the opening.
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Haha, angst! (OMG, The Mirror just came on my LaunchCast station! I had a feeling it would.) Well, not really angst, but I am rather proud of that little piece of writing. Review! And…make others review!
