Whoa. It's been like…forever since I last updated. O.o I had to go back to reread my own last chapters to remind myself what was going on. Sorry. I hope people are still reading this. Anyway, I hope my original story is still tumbling around somewhere in my mind – let's see if I can find it…
Assuming that rule about not being allowed to reply to reviewers really was a hoax…
Babymene17: No, I meant musicofthenight, not Project Phantom. Though I'm in that one too. You think Erik's mean to lead her on? Well, he is the Opera Ghost, it'd be pretty sad if he wasn't mean, and she shouldn't have fancied herself the Opera Ghost's lover in the first place. Hmph.
MetaChi: The Siren wears a T-shirt and shorts? …So has she got a closet underwater or something? A whole wardrobe and stuff? Ooh, I'm going to elaborate on this…
BaffledSeraph: Why on earth did I forget about the existence of mezzo sopranos? I guess the way I worded it just sounded funnier. As for the chapter 11 review, that's my favorite part too. Oh, he does enjoy himself from time to time. Glad you got caught up.
The Four Random Ones: Unless he's really really careful. I dunno, maybe Isabelle will come back to haunt him, no pun intended.
Lazy.kender: Haha! Yay! You're back! Of course, as soon as you start reviewing, I quit updating. Ah well. I'm back now. Did I ever mention that I adore your Jingle Bells parody? Now that Christmas is near, I sing it all the time. And don't hurt the homicidal cats.
Qatherinn: Oh, my, thank you.
Elflover: Really? Cool, Glorfindel hasn't got that many fangirls. Legolas of course, though I do rather like Elladan too.
La Phantom: Okay, okay. Know that it was your review that made me want to update again.
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Hana awoke in her room Sunday morning without any clear recollection on how she'd gotten there. All she knew was that she'd had the most rigorous lesson ever thrust upon her by the Opera Ghost. She must have stumbled to her room late in the evening without really being aware of what was happening. She had apparently skipped dinner too, because her stomach was growling something terrible.
Not very ladylike at all.
It was relatively early in the morning – she had an hour or so before rehearsal – so she decided to head out to get something to eat. She combed out her short hair quickly and changed dresses without bothering to change corsets – she'd been wearing the same dress for two days now. Yesterday was the day when she'd woken up from her nightmare which induced a cram session that left her pretty much…insane. Somehow, she felt better today, though. Maybe cram sessions were the way to go for her. She'd have to force herself into another one sometime.
Hana left her dressing room and set out for the streets of Paris. At a nearby café, she purchased two strawberry crepes and a large cup of coffee, which she sat and sipped slowly. It warmed her up, and the caffeine helped a bit too. She wondered if, at the rate she was going, she'd end up collapsing on the stage during the actual opera.
She sighed, and headed back to the Opera House. There were only five minutes left before her rehearsal, and she didn't want to be late.
Hurrying through the doors of the Opera, she ran into Isabelle, making her way out with Carlotta, swathed in a heavy fur wrap despite the summer heat, Carlotta adorned in a similar manner.
"Out of zee way," Carlotta demanded impatiently.
"Where are you going?" asked Hana, a little bewildered. "We should be on stage right now."
"What are you talking about?" said Isabelle scathingly. "It's Sunday. Whatever Lefevre said yesterday, we're off today. No rehearsal until tomorrow."
"But I wouldn't expect 'oo to know zat," said Carlotta in a snooty voice. "We're off to shop. Please don't tag along." And the two women departed, heading in the direction of the Champs Elysees.
Hana didn't much care that they'd been so rude. There was only one thing that registered in her mind.
She had a day off.
They got days off? She could have sworn that Lefevre had mentioned a rehearsal today. He must have been mistaken. The point was, she had absolutely nothing to do.
She could…sleep.
However…if Erik came to give her a lesson…no. She'd just go back to her dressing room, lock the door, and zonk out for the rest of the day.
And she did so.
Hana lay back down on the couch in her room, snuggling under a thin blanket with a rolled up dress for an extra pillow. She sighed, tried to forget the music, and began to doze.
There was suddenly a rattling from the direction of the door.
She opened one eye and glanced at the doorknob. Was someone trying to get in? Hana simply closed her eye again and ignored it. They'll go away.
And, whoever it was, they did.
Hana smiled happily. Then, ten minutes later, the knocking began again.
But this time it wasn't coming from the door.
Hana growled and sat up. Who was trying to disturb her so much?
There suddenly came a slight squeaking noise from behind the mirror. She whipped around in time to see a black gloved hand emerge from behind the glass, pushing the opening wider, and Erik stepped out.
Hana's heart sank. She'd forgotten about the mirror entrance. What kind of phan was she, to forget that the mirror opened?
"What are you doing?" he inquired. "You locked the door. I hear you have a day off." He stood leaning against the mirror frame, watching her.
"Yes…" she replied warily.
"Well? Let's rehearse," Erik said, moving aside to let her through the mirror.
Hana snapped.
"What do you mean, rehearse! Do you know I've only had eight hours of sleep in the past two nights? Last night I memorized half an act of a whole opera, and I've had to learn cues and blocking and all sorts of random stuff! Not to mention your deadly practices down in the cellars! Sometimes I wonder whether it was a good thing that I won that contest! Heck, sometimes I wonder if I can still consider myself a legitimate phangirl! Honestly, I love you Erik, and I want to please you, but I need to sleep!"
Erik weathered this barrage of complaints quite indifferently. "First of all, at least you had the option of whether to enter the contest or not. My participation was quite involuntary, I assure you. Second of all, I have survived on far less sleep at a time. And third of all, if that makes any sense, you're perfectly welcome to sleep down in the cellars after the practice with me."
"Why on earth would I want to sleep in a cellar?" railed Hana. "They're cold and wet and – "
"I mean in my house in the cellars," said Erik impatiently. "Good Lord, girl, do you really think I'd leave you to sleep in the cellar proper?"
"You left me sitting outside your door for ages yesterday, why not?" said Hana bitterly.
"That was different." Erik seized her hand and her libretto and pulled her, albeit a bit gently, through the mirror passage. This trip was much different from the last time they had traversed the passage, when Erik had taken Hana up to the roof to appease Nadir. This trip was silent, and Erik was sort of supporting Hana as she stumbled along behind him.
Down through the five cellars as quickly as possible, across the lake, and into Erik's house they went, Hana nearly nodding off in the boat. Erik brought her a cup of hot tea to stimulate her and handed her the libretto. "If you managed to memorize half an act in four hours, then I am quite impressed. Let's try to get the other half of the act in the same amount of time."
Hana sighed, chugged her tea, and complied. They worked for hours on the last of Act One, which concluded with Cinderella standing veiled before her family and the prince, everyone singing about the identity of the mysterious woman before them. It was well past noon when Erik declared that she knew half of the opera 'well enough as to not make a fool of yourself before an audience.' That was good enough for Hana.
It was well past noon, and two crepes were not a sufficient breakfast for Hana. "Do you think we could get some lunch? I really am starving." Her stomach rumbled again in agreement.
Erik stood up. "I'm afraid I haven't got a lot of options…as I don't entertain often…but I'm sure I can find something." He rummaged around in the cabinets of the little kitchen and managed to produce a passable ham sandwich and a slightly overripe apple. Hana took it gratefully and devoured it in mere minutes. "Thanks."
"Charmed." Erik took the empty plate back to the kitchen and left it in the washbasin. "If you like, I can take…" He stopped when he saw that Hana had already crashed on the couch in his sitting room, snoring pleasantly. "…you back to your dressing room." He sighed and went to get a blanket for her.
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Okay, I'm not too proud of this chappie, but I AM quite proud of the fact that I updated. Sorry for any little inconsistencies or mistakes in peoples pennames (Hilary, did you change your name?) I may have included by accident – like I said, I don't remember all the story exactly, and I wrote the beginning review responses months ago.
