"You have some serious explaining to do," Miss Lazerth hissed at me, once Sean and Jessica had made their exit. "Don't expect to perform today. We have too much talking to do."
"Okay," I responded listlessly. Was there any other response to be had? It's not like I could disagree.
"First of all," Miss Lazerth said, her nostrils flaring, "How long have you been seeing the…" she rolled her eyes at herself, "the Opera Ghost?"
"I don't know what you mean, ma'am," I replied monotonically.
"Damn it!" exclaimed Lazerth. She seemed to realize too late what she'd said, because even her face crossed with surprise. "I'm sorry, excuse me. I am just vexed. This has not been easy…" She put her hand to her forehead and sighed. "I don't want anymore… accidents…"
"I really don't know what you mean," I said, my throat becoming thick with oncoming tears. "I don't know why I'm involved in this. Please just leave me alone," I added in a choked voice.
Lazerth's forehead burrowed with an unusual compassion. "I don't want to upset you, Elizabeth," she said, looking almost confused. "But these letters involve you too heavily for me not to speak to you. Have you been seeing him? Please don't lie to me," she added in a quiet voice.
I looked at her, scrutinizing the lines in her face, searching her eyes for shreds of humanity. She didn't understand; she couldn't understand. She didn't know him like I did. My Erik was not a murderer. A potential pervert, I thought, almost amused, but not a murderer. Whatever had happened to him years ago, I was sure it was some sort of misunderstanding. Erik was intense, indeed, almost dangerously intense, but he was not the killing type. No one who kissed with such love and such passion could be capable of such hatred. I simply could not imagine that anyone who crooned the words, "my ingénue" was a killer.
Admittedly, the threats towards Sean, Jessica, and Lazerth were unusual. I could not believe that he'd so openly threaten Sean's life, but then again, Erik was always a little overdramatic. I was dramatic, too. After all, we loved the theater—Wasn't being overdramatic part of our thespian charm? Anyway, what was a "disaster beyond all your imagination?" I was sure it didn't involve death. My Erik, my tutor, my love, wouldn't hurt anyone. He was too zealous about my success, but really, other than that, harmless.
"I haven't been seeing anyone named O.G.," I replied seriously. Not a lie, but not the truth either.
To my surprise and utter shock, Lazerth leaned over and hugged me very hard. She didn't let go right away, either. I was still reeling when she pulled away and held my chin in her vein-ridden hand.
"He targeted you because you are young and talented," she said softly, staring into my greenish-blue eyes with pity. "Being so young, so naïve, and quiet like you… When I first heard you sing, I was almost afraid this would happen."
"I don't follow you," I responded, wishing she'd take her hand away from my face, but feeling too polite to say so.
"I just… I just knew he'd be drawn to you," she explained in that same quiet voice. "He was more soft-spoken than you are. The way you look, the way you move… It's too much… You're too much of… Well, I thought maybe if I didn't draw any more attention to you, if I just let Jessica…" she paused. "I'm talking too much. Excuse me, Miss Mayers." She finally let go of my face and turned to walk away. "I think it would be better if you didn't perform today."
"But my costume is done," I said, bewildered by her odd strain of thoughts, but unable to respond properly to them.
"You and I must be very careful from now on. Letting you perform now would be imprudent. Please trust me as I have trusted you today," said Lazerth in an almost pleading voice. "I trust you when you say that you are innocent in all this. Now, trust me when I say it'd be better for everyone if you stayed backstage during the teaser."
"Whatever," I mumbled, turning my face before she could see my disappointment.
I sat against the wall on the prop table that laid stage left, even though it annoyed the prop crew greatly. Whatever, I was entitled. I was upset and I had been rejected, and plus, I was basically a huge liar. I felt I was justified, however; Lazerth wouldn't understand if I explained that Erik was not just, as she thought, an insane former student, but rather, a genius tutor as well as an ardent lover. I was upset about the notes; I would talk to him about that, of course. There was no need for him to be so determined to get me onstage. We were having a few problems, I guess, but all relationships have problems, really… At least that's what I thought…
As I sat there, I studied the bottled waters that lined the table. Poland Spring, Evian, Evian, Aquafina, Evian. As if Jessica needs her water, I thought bitterly. She'll sound like a toad no matter what she drinks. I took the bottle of Evian, considering spitting in it. I felt too low class, though. Spitting was not something that the better person did. No, I would refrain. Still, a drink wouldn't hurt, and it'd be funny to know that Jessica's precious, untainted water would have my spit molecules surrounding the top. I unscrewed the cap and went to drink, but I noticed that the water had a slightly odd smell. It was probably stale. I screwed the top back on and replaced it. I was considering having a drink of the Aquafina, but the audience had begun to enter and the rest of the cast was rushing backstage.
"Well, if it isn't O.G.," snarled Jessica, stalking up to the table.
"Grow up," I responded coolly.
"No, you grow up. I don't write notes just because I'm pissed about not getting the part I want. Some of us earn what we get, you know," she added vindictively.
I couldn't help but squirm uncomfortably on the table. I disliked confrontation, even if it was with the generally all-bark-but-no-bite Jessica Klein. I could think of a few nasty things to say back, but I bit my tongue. Jessica might be annoying, but she did have a large following, and I didn't feel like being any more of an outcast than I already was. Just the other day I'd overheard someone in the dressing room describing me as "really talented, but so snobby. She doesn't talk to anyone but Amy May." Yes, that was the extent of my social skill, sadly.
I smiled fakely and held up a bottle of Evian. "Water, Jessica?"
"What did you do, poison it?" she snapped, snatching it out of my outstretched hand.
"I'm not that clever, unfortunately," I said, laughing at the idea.
"Ugh," grunted Jessica, swigging from the water bottle before replacing it and opening a new one. "This water tastes like crap."
"Sorry." I jumped off the table, bored with the conversation.
I idled around backstage, wishing I could go onstage with the rest of the missionaries. It wasn't fair. I didn't even do anything wrong; yet, I wasn't allowed my rightful solo and my rightful place onstage. I wondered what Erik would think of it. I doubted he'd be pleased.
I noticed Sean Winters approaching me, but for once, I didn't attempt to make a quick exit. We weren't alone, anyway, and plus, he was coming up to me, so it's not as if I was socializing with him voluntarily. Added to the fact that we were not outside of school, I was totally within my boundaries to talk to him.
"That stuff was really weird today, huh?" asked Sean cordially. I noticed he wasn't really looking me in the eye.
"Yeah. Weird." I crossed my arms, suddenly painfully aware of my 36-C chest. God, I needed to lose weight.
"You know I could never not see you," said Sean, suddenly turning on the charm. "Whoever wrote them must be crazy."
"Hey, I thought you told me not to talk to you," I reminded him.
Sean turned and stared me straight in the face. Now I knew he was looking in my eyes, and I didn't really like it. I blushed in spite of myself, shifting uneasily on my feet.
"Why do you talk to me like this?" he asked, sounding surprisingly hurt. "I just want to talk to you. You act like it's a crime."
The flush rose in my cheeks and spread down my neck. I was feeling reckless. I was hurt. I had held back with Jessica; I didn't feel the same restraint with Sean. I returned his stare, noticing how his dark blue eyes had flecks of grey in them. They really were as deep as the ocean, as cliché as it sounds. There was an intricate pattern to them despite all the deep, even blue; they looked like swirling waters. I hated them suddenly. They drew me in, but they repulsed me; the shine in his eyes was too much to bear. He was so incredibly fake. I knew all he felt was guilt, and I was about to let him know it.
"Sean… Give me a break. You go out with me for a measly month, then kiss me while I have a boyfriend, then five seconds later go out with a stick insect without even bothering to notice me," I said, louder than I meant to. Several people were craning their necks to listen. "Why should I care about a guy who does nothing but play games?"
"I'm the one playing games!" he exclaimed with equal vehement. "First of all, it was only a measly month because you dumped me."
"You were a jerk," I snapped.
"Thanks, but it doesn't change the fact that you dumped me." His cheeks were almost as red as mine by this point.
"Whatever." I stopped my staring and tossed my hair back, though the toss was not as effective when my hair was in a ponytail.
"Whatever?" He glared at me. "Whatever? Yeah, whatever to the fact that you know I still like you, you give me these eyes and whimper, 'Sean, Sean, I'm so unhappy,' and kiss me in the hall and then ignore me as if nothing happened. How would you feel then if some girl actually paid attention to you when the other acted as if she couldn't give less of a crap?"
"When did I ever ignore you? When did I ever ignore you?" I protested loudly.
"You ignored me when you didn't dump your freaking boyfriend!" he snapped. "You ignored the fact that you drive me out of my freaking mind, Elizabeth!"
I didn't speak. He rarely called me by my full first name, and for a moment, it took me by surprise. The crowd of people that was watching was too large for my taste, and suddenly I was grounded again. I was arguing with my ex-boyfriend, backstage, with teachers and students present. It was time to stop this weird little reunion right in its tracks.
"Get a life, Sean," I hissed.
I turned on my heel and walked away, my cheeks burning with a mix between fury and humiliation. It might seem like I was being harsh, but most people didn't understand Sean the way I did. He flocked to anyone who he thought could give him the most publicity. He enjoyed scandal. He enjoyed spotlight. Jessica had served her purpose, but apparently I hadn't yet served mine. Still, the way he called me by name had made me feel uneasy. I mean, it wasn't possible he had real feelings for me, was it? No, my brain replied forcefully. Damn it, why was my heart beating? It was his stupid eyes.
I was making my way downstairs, but Amy stopped me.
"Everything's about to start," she said, pulling on my hand.
"Let go," I said grumpily.
"Shut up," she said cheerfully. "Is everything okay with Lazerth?"
"Yeah, just… I don't know. It's a long story."
"Tell me later," said Amy. Her eyes were darting around excitedly. "I'm too pumped up for this to stand still very long."
We both ignored Sean as we walked back by, then crossed the stage to go to our little backstage corner and hide. We had a pretty good view through the curtain of what was going on both onstage and in the audience. The principal was giving a sweet little speech about how wonderful it was for young people to be involved in music and theater, and how we had all worked very hard, so please be supportive. He then took his seat in Box Five. I wondered if he'd heard of the O.G.'s threats regarding Box Five.
"Hey… Elizabeth…" Amy patted my arm to grab my attention.
"What?" I replied, turning to face her.
"Do you see that?" she pointed upwards.
"See what?"
"The chandelier thing. Do you see it? It's moving." Her wide eyes were fixed on the large gold structure in the center of the auditorium.
It was not really a chandelier. It was a modern-looking star-like sculpture made of gold rods and lined with little lights similar to those found on Christmas trees. It was vaguely based on the chandelier in the Metropolitan Opera. The older teachers called it a disgrace to such a beautiful performance space, but I rather liked it.
"It is kind of moving," I admitted, unable to deny it. The whole thing was swaying back and forth in a more active manner than I'd ever seen it before. It almost looked in danger of swinging right out of the ceiling. "I guess it's supposed to do that, right?"
"I've never noticed it moving that much," Amy replied, her eyes unmoving.
"Yeah, it's weird, but whatever," I said, actually moving to put my hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry about it. We've probably just never seen it like that."
Amy shrugged. "I get scared sometimes."
"What?" I cried, startled. "What are you talking about?"
"More goes on that Lazerth lets on," explained Amy in a low voice. "I see the way she talks to Fitz sometimes. He's doesn't act as happy as he did anymore, either. And you," she added suddenly.
"I don't know what you mean," I replied weakly.
"You never tell me what goes with you and Lazerth. Actually, you don't tell me much of anything anymore." She paused. "Sometimes when you look at me, it's like you're looking right through me," said Amy in a surprisingly emotional voice. "What are you seeing?"
"Stop being such a freaking drama queen," I said in a harsher tone than I meant to. "Why are you making something out of nothing?"
"It's starting," was her only reply.
