Alright everyone, I would really like some reviews on this please. I desperately need to know what you all think of this, whether it is good or bad. This and the post tomorrow are my last posts before I disappear for a week and am unable to update. When I come back if there is evidence that you wish for us to continue than I will. If not well then I take that as a sign that it is crap and not worth continuing. Thank you everyone.
-Olivia N.
The Patron muttered to himself angry curses, his stride covering the wooden floors. Everything had to go wrong didn't it? Carlotta was threatening to leave, and she just might. That had to be avoided by all costs; there wasn't another to fill her place. Christine Daae wasn't going to pop up to save the day again. It was all over the stupid note that some Phantom sent her, degrading the prima donna to no end and threatening to hurt her if she remained within the Opera Populaire. It was most likely a hoax; no one would dare lay a hand on the prima donna, and he absolutely refused to believe in any Opera Ghost, or the supernatural. The whole house was entirely too superstitious.
He threw the doors open to the shop with such force that they nearly broke off their already worn down hinges. His eyes scanned the men working, each doing a pre assigned task, and doing it diligently. However, he was looking for the man which wasn't entirely a man. She's close enough, anyway, he thought. But alas, she wasn't there. The men stopped their working, all turning slowly to face him, and all looked peeved at his intrusion. They waited, getting slightly grumpier. One of them, an older man, possibly the oldest of them all, and his white hair stuck out at odd angles, as if he never brushed it. However his faded shirt was clean, a softened red, and his pants looked almost as old as he was. He had the air of a gentle grandfather. However his blue eyes shown with steel from within. The Patron asked harshly, annoyed that she wouldn't be there when he needed her. What was he paying her for!
"Where is she?" He yelled, not bothering to be polite with these ruffian commoners. The old man, looked the Patron over, as if seeing if they could take him on. As a group there was no contest.
The old man crossed his arms, a stern look crossing his aged face. "It's 'er day off," He told his employer, with a hint of a solid steel back bone.
The Patron nearly exploded. "What do you mean she's taking the day off!" He exclaimed, nearly at the top of his shrill voice.
The old man looked him over again, "She takes one day a year off. This is it."
The Patron grumbled, "Well go find her! I need her now!"
The group collectively pulled their tools closer to their bodies, taking a fighting stance. "We won't," He answered.
The Patron was getting angrier, "You-you there what's your name?"
"Captain Dres. I'm second in command," The man responded with an air of pride.
The Patron looked him over, "You're now first. Chalondra Vitusia, no longer works for the Opera Populaire." As soon as these words came out though the men took a step back, not in fear, but merely to get a better range to attack.
"Then we'll all walk," Another man answered.
The Patron looked the group over collectively. Fear lit into his eyes. He couldn't understand their loyalty. "Why do you stick up for her? All she does is swear at you."
They shook their heads and another spoke up, "She may swear, but she watches out for us, she truly cares about our well being, our families. She makes sure we all get paid before she sees a cent, and she'll even make up the difference that you screw up. She'll always take care of us. She expects out of us, what she expects from herself, no more, no less. We give it to her."
The Patron saw he couldn't win. He swore under his breath. There were other things he had to do today. "Tell her I wish to see her immediately once she returns!"
Dres spoke "She'll be told tomorrow, when we see her, sir." The title didn't hold any respect. In fact it was added as an insult. The patron in a storming fury stalked off, shouting irritably about how the morning had already been wasted.
Vits leaned against the railing, saving her from a plunge into the muddy brown waters of the Sine. The sun was rising over the tops of the buildings in a glorious Parisian sunrise, but she didn't feel the beauty today. Tears rolled silently down her cheeks, although she fought to hold them back. Every year she promised she would not cry, and she never kept it. She locked all the doors to her emotions every day, but this one. She had to feel today, the memory was still to painful. The wound was still too fresh. Her mind cruelly relived the day, watching him die. Briefly Vits pulled herself from the entrancing gaze of the Sine's waters, reminding her of her true home: the sea. She glanced towards the buildings their fine lines blurred by the tears. She paused, making a weak attempt to pull herself together. It would fail, but she had to try. Otherwise she'd be looking back down the depressing road of her past. The memories would replay again. She'd seen them a thousand times, but still, she would watch them a thousand more.
"Hey there sweetheart," A friendly voice interrupted her thoughts, that strong southern tone breaking all concentration, "What you doin' out here all by yourself?"
Vits lifted her head from where it had fallen, back to the waters. Her eyes turned to him, filled with unspeakable anger and hate. Her tone was cold, and a little shaky, "What the hell do you want?" She wanted to be left alone, alone to wash herself in her memories, to say goodbye again.
He grinned playfully, not intimidated by her brute tone, "Whoa there hun, didn't mean no harm or nothing, I was just takin' a walk and I noticed you out here. Just thought I'd say hello that's all, you know, be polite as most people do."
"Then you'd be ever so polite as to leave me alone" Her tone was ice with fake sugar sprinkled over it.
He nodded, "I could." Ethan did not speak another word, but instead simply leaned on the railing beside her, staring out into the murky waters of the Sine. He was silent for only a short time before speaking up again, casually chatting as he stated, "You know, the Sine looks very similar to the Mississippi back home, murky water makes them alike. You ever been to the states?"
Vits turned away, she didn't want to talk. Then against her will, a soft sob slipped out, and the tears started anew.
Ethan had of course caught this, instantly his cheery smile slipping into a concerned frown. "What's wrong sweetheart?" He asked, his strong southern accent coming out smooth and gentle.
"None of your damn business," Came the reply, she still kept her back from him
He looked slightly disgruntled after her response, but still prodded gently. "I don't mean no harm hun," His voice was still that annoyingly calm and comforting, "I was just trying to help that's all. You seem upset so I was just... well... sometimes it helps to talk about what's botherin' you."
"I don't want to talk about it,"
"Well that's fine, I suppose. Maybe just some company to keep off the loneliness then?" He offered her a hopeful smile, the kind that showed that he greatly doubted she would accept his offer.
"If you want company there are plenty of whorehouses. I suggest you go find one."
The smile vanished from his face and instead he glared firmly at her, the words coming out coldly as he questioned, "You think I'm that low? I wasn't trying to pick your ass up, just trying to be a shoulder to cry on- a gentleman some would call it. Apparently though all I'm being is an inconvenience to you." He gave her a sweeping bow, his shoulders stiff with agitation when he rose back into a straight stance, shoving his hands firmly into his pockets. "Well, au revoir Mademoiselle. I hope you are capable of finding comfort alone," His voice was bitter, but he still remained that eerie calm, casually turning his back on her and walking back down the way he had come.
Vits shrugged, and slipped herself back into her memories, watching her father being shot to death. The sobs came now, she couldn't hold them back. She may not have been necessarily intending to lash out at Ethan, but he had been there. Vits let the sun rise, and slowly dry her tears. She had finished. She refused to allow herself to cry, anymore. It would be another year before she allowed herself to feel the pain of her father's death.
Night had fallen; the stage remained lit to ward off any ghosts. Vits walked out on to center stage. She looked around. The shadows were quiet tonight, offering the comfort she needed as she began to dance. However tonight held a sadder tune. Her movements were a slow lament to those lost. She quietly told the story of her father's death, watching him die. Her body moved in all its graceful slenderness with the sorrows of the world weighing it down. Her movements held the tears her eyes could not. Her heart broke within her dancing, her cheeks shone with her crying. Towards the end of her dancing, the pace quickened, her steps moved faster, gaining the anger of loosing someone she wasn't supposed to have lost. She quickly told of her anger, and the clashes of that. Her movements pleaded for revenge. A revenge that never came. She would never feel the sweet taste of avenging her father's wrongful death. Her steps slowed with the sorrow of such a failure. The dance had ended on the same tone it began, the ultimate pain of the heart. Now hers was broken, shattered into pieces that would never be whole again.
It was the second night in a row that Raylan had attended Vits's lonely ceremony, sitting as far back and into shadow as she possibly could be. She had watched her room mate with the same awe as she had the night before, with the same unspoken marvel that so magically aroused her lost emotions. There was a freedom she felt when Vits danced, a power she emitted that caused Raylan to feel ultimately weightless, as if her soul could float away and she would never be cursed to return to the horrible fate her skin bound her to. Tonight though her soul did not fly for her emotions followed the same pain as Vits's dance, dragging her to the very pits of hell before rising back to this lonely earth. Her heart had begun to shatter as Vits's did, but she had forced her feelings behind in time before the dance had ended and the final dreaded statement had its chance to cripple her heart entirely. A heavy sigh had escaped her lips when Vits took her final steps, her body slumping back into the chair as she raised a hand to her eyes, stifling the tears that threatened to fall. She longed to run to her companion, to take this broken woman into her arms and relieve her of her pain. How could she help though, her mind had bitterly reminded her, how could any one like her be of assistance when she herself could find no solitude?
Vits stood, letting the final tears fall before disappearing into the darkness of backstage. She had abandoned Raylan to the lonely air she left behind, to the lingering pain that kept these haunted shadows at bay. Raylan stood, sighing deeply. The dance was over; she had seen what she had come for. Straightening her skirts she had begun to walk away when she noticed something unusual. A gentle breeze flowed around Raylan, a curious draft unnatural to the still night. She froze, instantly her muscles becoming tense as she glanced suspiciously around. "You," She whispered gently, "Are you here?"
"I am always here," The voice came from the auditorium, but seemed to whisper from every dark corner the place contained making it nearly impossible to point out where it truly originated from.
She glanced around, searching for the white masked image. Several times she turned around in circles, searching every corner of the darkness with keen eyes. "Where?" She questioned softly, "Show yourself."
The white of his mask appeared in the distance for a moment, and then it disappeared. To her right the figure of a man with his back to her materialized then vanished. To her left, a single red rose with a black silk ribbon was placed upon the edge of the box by a black gloved hand. Then he appeared in full glory in his usual roost, box five. His voice was lusciously dark as he rumbled, "I am where I want to be."
Raylan was breathing heavily, her heart pounding furiously in her chest once more, thudding rhythms in her ears. Her body was completely tense as she whirled about, following his changing image until he came to settle in his box. Curiously her eyes fell upon him with a look of pure fascination, a small amused smile creasing over her face as she questioned, "Don't you ever stay in one place?"
"Why would I do that? It is better to hide by moving than by standing still,"
"This is true," Her smile faded and once again her eyes looked distant, but only for a short time before she pulled herself back to this moment, staring up at this masked man. Her voice was surprisingly tender as she asked with a forced innocence, "What is it you wish of me Monsieur Phantom? I do not believe you would linger here without a purpose."
The Phantom nodded, "I wish to know the reason why you have come here." His demand was simply stated as if expecting her to admit her reason easily.
She replied nonchalantly, as if the answer should be obvious, "I came to watch Vitusia dance."
"Not tonight, my pet. But here in the Opera Populaire. Why have you come here?"
"My pet?" She raised her eyebrows questioningly but shook it off, "As to why I am here, I thought you would have known that I came for work."
He chuckled softly as an adult would when listening to an immature statement of a child, "There are other motives than that. There always are."
"I'm sure there are," She said, but stubbornly didn't finish.
"Indeed there are," He took her silence as a confirmation, "But what are those true reasons?"
"My reasons are my own," She hissed, crossing her arms firmly over her chest.
The Phantom smiled from behind his mask, "Yes they are." He held a knowing smile; he knew that he would get answers out of her, one way or another.
Raylan looked at him curiously, continuing to stare through the dark at the harsh white mask. Several uncomfortable minutes of silence passed, he making no hints to leaving and she beginning to fidget with uncertainty. Raylan's hand had somehow found its way to her mouth where she began to nervously bite on her thumb nail until she suddenly ceased. "Well," She cleared her throat softly, "Monsieur, I suppose if you require nothing more of me I shall say goodnight." She had not waited to see if he would object, her movements quick as she retreated from the auditorium, moving at almost a run towards her room.
Minutes later Raylan had entered the apartment she shared with Vits silently, her steps light and her head low as if she feared being discovered when she came in. Vits was sitting at the table, buried in plans, and designs, she was idly sketching on paper, another plan. She worked out complex calculations on the side trying to figure out the exact angles, or lengths of wood needed, and then what she could get away with for using the least expensive-which often led to more complex calculations. She sighed trying to figure out the exact angle for a beam to be able to place the most weight on it, and keep the wood to a minimum; it was for a second story. Raylan closed the door with the utmost caution and then some what tip toed over to her sofa bed, landing upon it gently and then pausing to look steadily at Vits. She fidgeted twiddling her thumbs in her lap as she stared at Vits, a look of hesitance in her eyes. Her voice came out shyly as she softly complemented, "You're... You're dancing was lovely tonight."
Vits looked up, her eyes narrowing as the words processed, pushing out the complex calculations. Her tone was a harsh accusation, "You watched?"
She nodded and answered timidly, "...Yes."
"Why?" It was a coarse demand, not a question.
"...I don't know," She answered honestly, "I suppose I...I was curious."
Vits ground her teeth, but spoke with a hidden threat, "Swear not to tell a soul."
"What?" Raylan's eyebrows narrowed with confusion, "Why? Vits, you are amazing."
"Because the fools here do not deserve to know"
Raylan looked perplexed for an instant but then seemed to understand as she nodded gradually, "Understandable...I won't say a word Vits, I swear it."
She nodded, "Thank you" Strange enough it was a soft appreciation. There was obviously more to this than Vits would ever let on.
For a few moments Raylan was silent, but this was short lived as she quickly jumped into the question that had been lingering in her mind, "So why do you dance?"
"I dance for myself. It's a form of expression, the other side of what I express outside this room," She shrugged, dancing was natural for her, after her mother was the greatest dancer in Europe, but she didn't want to follow her mother's footsteps.
"Like my writing," Raylan commented lightly, and then continued with her questioning, "How did you learn?"
Vits looked at her, unsure if she was ready to indulge in every secret she carried. Vits settled for somewhere in between complete truth and out right lying, "I taught myself. I failed out of the ballet school here, when I first arrived. But I watched them in my spare time. It's not really that hard."
Raylan's eyes narrowed, "So you taught yourself to dance like that?"
Vits nodded, leaving it there.
Raylan was not satisfied, that much was clear, but biting her lip she commanded herself to keep quiet. Several minutes she watched Vits, waiting for another conversation to spark up but when her room mate seemed to only want to be fixed on her work Raylan nestled herself into her couch. She sighed, closing her eyes partially, listening to her rhythmic breathing. It had not been long until she found her way into the comfort of sleep.
Over the week Raylan had trained herself to wake at least an hour before dawn, giving herself plenty of time to prepare and cook breakfast for her room mate and herself. Sluggishly she had drug herself from bed, that morning making herself as presentable as she could manage and then going straight to the kitchen. She started some tea, and after shuffling around had come across some eggs and bread. Heating up the stove she began the meal, hoping that her movement and the smell of breakfast would waken Vits. She didn't want to have to physically wake her again; Vits did not like Raylan entering her room.
As hoped, Vits blearily walked through the curtain, and sat at the table, groaning slight. She ran a hand through her disheveled hair, which straightened it out to its normal raggedness, noting that it was time for another haircut. She never truly woke up though until after her tea.
Raylan did not so much offer breakfast as she did demand it, placing the plate of two eggs and toast in front of Vits before devouring her own.
Vits nibbled at her food, as she usually did. She wasn't much of an eater and never really would be. She did however drink all of her tea, letting it wake her up, as she waited for another day to come.
"How did you sleep?" Raylan said between swallows as an act of courtesy.
Vits shrugged "Like I usually do...however I wish I could get a few more hours." She shrugged, "Such is the price for taking a day off." Vits finally refused to eat any more and instead rose to gather up her plans and headed out the door without saying any form of a goodbye. They were preparing for the next play. The Opera was taking its yearly tour of Shakespeare before the masque ball. They did this every year, only it was different plays. They usually were able to fit in two plays. This year it was going to be Midsummer Night's dream and Romeo and Juliet. However, neither were the original text, some one had completely rearranged the plots to appease current fashion. Vits hated this; she had read Shakespeare's untouched versions and thought them better than the dribble written to amuse audiences. But Management fell deaf to her complaints.
Raylan nodded and slowly consumed the remainder of her breakfast. She had become use to Vits rude acts, knowing that although she rarely showed appreciation of you verbally you indeed could find it in her eyes. Chugging the rest of her tea down Raylan swiftly moved from the table, taking Vits barely touched plate before crazily beginning to clean. She was done in no time, finally gathering all her things and bolting out the door to begin her days work.
Raylan had entered the costume department as silently as possible, never wishing to interrupt or join in the conversation of the rumors her fellow seamstresses were so feverishly spreading. Often it was of the Opera Ghost, each one making up their own little tales of times they had seen or interacted with him, but today when she entered their whispering had suspiciously come to an uneasy halt, each one turning a curious eye upon Raylan. She froze in the door way, returning the stare that her coworkers were sending so questioningly at her.
This was continually exchanged until Madame Dacio chimed in shakily, suppressing a malicious grin and snicker, "Hello Raylan. Glad to see you made it on time."
Raylan nodded and looked suspiciously around, her eyebrows narrowing as she glared. Her voice was cold as she inquired, "What's going on here?"
They all looked at her with wide eyed innocence, pausing in their work. One of the bolder girls looked her over coldly, like she was piece of meat to sell. "We were just discussing the Phantom's appearance last night, in box five and the voice that was heard answering him," She added smugly looking at her, with a haughty air.
Raylan raised her eyebrows and scoffed again, "Not him again. I can't believe you all still think those silly superstitions are true." She played it off coolly, her lie completely believable.
Another chimed, "You don't have to lie to us, and we all know the truth. You were seen with him last night."
"Me?" She laughed and crossed her arms coolly over her chest, leaning on the door and looking each of them over like they were crazy, "Alright, first of all, if I had been with him how on earth would anyone see because as I recall from your endless chatter he disguises himself and is never seen. And second of all, I was in my room last night." Once again her lie sounded completely believable.
They all giggled, "Of course you were." It was obvious that they didn't believe a word of it; of course, they all had a different story of what she had been doing. Whispers started across the room, slowly growing into quiet squabbling. They only thing Raylan could understand was her name.
Raylan rolled her eyes and ignored them, taking her place and fiddling pointlessly with her needle and thread. Her ears tried to catch what they were saying, trying to understand how this could have happened. She had been sure the auditorium had been empty that night, certain she, Vits, and the Phantom had been the only ones. So how on earth did they find out?
After at least an hour of these mutter rumors it finally seemed like seamstress could no longer control themselves. They absolutely hated getting no reaction from Raylan-something they lived for. The older ones began to push and coerce some of the younger children into asking her, the whispers wildly flying around the room. Finally someone had visibly forced the youngest child into asking her. The child was no more than five, and stood half as tall as Raylan. She didn't quite know how to act yet, and the child was tiny. She had much to learn, and was easily forced into doing things by the older girls, which her innocent eyes saw as her sisters. The girl was used to run new bobbles of thread, and needles to the seamstresses around the room. She had golden curls, and blue eyes. The girl, herself, was entirely sweet and innocent, at prey for the older girls merely looking for a role model. Encouraged by her crude peer she quietly tugged at Raylan's skirt to get her attention. Her blue eyes were wide with fear. The girl paused looking back at her role models who nodded and waved their hand at her to go on. They giggled and whispered once the girl turned her back. She didn't suspect a thing. Instead she turned, and waited for Raylan's attention, nervously shifting her weight from foot to foot. She looked like she held half a mind to turn and run, but the peer pressure kept her rooted on the spot.
Raylan turned slowly around, lowering a friendly gaze as she smiled to the girl, saying pleasantly, "Hello there and how may I help you?"
The girl looked back to the older girls, who again waved her on, like one would command a servant with such a gesture. Her bottom lip trembled, which she bit, and the blue eyes welled up with tears. She really didn't want to ask the question, but again peer pressure was forcing her to do so. She swallowed, and then asked, visibly trembling like a leaf, "What's it like? What's it like being the Ghost's new pupil?" The girl flinched, ready to run.
Raylan's smile vanished, turning swiftly into a stern frown. For a moment her eyes dance angrily on the little child but once the snickering of the others had become audible she directed a furious gaze their way. She stood, the small girl taking a fearful step back as she did so; however she simply patted the little girls head and walked past her. Quickly she stormed over to the older girls, stopping just inches before them and sending a blazing glare at all of them. Her words were simple and vicious as she said, "Next time you want to make assumptions about me, be mature enough to ask me yourself. This," She pointed back to the girl, "this was low."
The young child, not entirely sure what the conversation was about, but knowing it was about her, began to cry feverishly. The older girls scowled at their younger coworker. This caused the child to flee crying out into the hall. They looked back to Raylan, settling her with glares, almost as nasty as hers. Then they returned to their work, and gossip completely ignoring Raylan standing in front of them.
Raylan rolled her eyes and turned on her heels, going after the little weeping child. When she finally caught up with the girl she calmed her, whipping the tears from her pretty face and saying softly, "It's alright, don't be upset. You did nothing wrong. It was not your fault."
The girl nodded, and sniffled. She was young and had a long way to go. But she needed to harden up-all in due time. The girl swallowed her sobs, and fought back the remaining tears. "Tank you," she hadn't quite learned to talk properly yet.
Raylan nodded and ran a hand through the girls matting blond hair. She smiled tenderly, "So, did you know what those girls were asking you to do?"
The girl silently shook her head, not sure where-or what-this questioning would lead to. She tried to shrink back as if in fear of being hit.
Raylan comforted her, "It's alright; I'm not going to hurt you. I suspected you didn't understand. Did you feel wrong asking me that?"
The girl seemed uneasy, unsure what to say, afraid to anger her. Finally she settled on the truth, and nodded, "Ywes. Phantom dowsn't like t'be talked aboot."
She nodded, "Indeed he doesn't. Listen honey, you shouldn't let mean girls like that pressure you into doing something you don't want to do. You have to stick up for yourself and tell them no. What they asked you to do was wrong, and unfair. Do they bully you like that often?"
The girl nodded. "If, if I down't do whut they ask, they" she paused, fear growing in her innocent eyes, "they threwten ta tell daddy"
"Daddy?" She looked confused, "Why are you afraid of your father knowing?"
She bit her lip, trembling as the tears welled up in her eyes again. She obviously wasn't supposed to tell anyone this, but everyone knew. "Daddy hits me," She said it simply, the truth. In her eyes every father did this, and every child deserved it. She didn't like it, and she was afraid of him, but knowing nothing else this to her was normal.
Raylan's eyes turned to shock and her mouth fell open in disgust. Shaking her head she forced herself not to frown, understanding that this girl would obviously take the reaction as Raylan would hit her. Smoothing out the girls hair Raylan gave her a comforting smile and said kindly, "I want you to listen to me alright? Listen closely. If those girls ever bother you again, just come to me and I will handle them. If your father, now listen to this, if your father lays another hand on you, you can come to me, and I will protect you, you hear me? I will protect you. I am staying in apartment 237, and if anything happens, you are welcome there."