Disclaimer: I own nothing from the actual Phantom of the Opera… but the original characters belong to the S & O Corporation… aka Sumner and Olivia.
Hello everyone! I have returned once again with an update. Yay! I'd throw a party… but that's Sumner one joy in life so she gets to do that.
Well, little bit of an update of my life for you all. Sumner & I have both successfully graduated High School. Woot! It's a wonderful thing. So, anyways, we've got time now, or at least until we have to go to college, to update this story more often. Also, I had to drop my job on reasons of scheduling and the fact that a hate my job, so there is more time again. So, yet another reason to throw a party… Sumner… you know what to do.
Anyways, let's get this thing started shall we?
A Few Thanks:
Juilette Delphe- I'm glad you enjoyed that rare opportunity to be the undead. Yes, I love my intro and exit too. I thought it was very amusing, and I would do that every time only I don't have enough time today because I have to go to work. Maybe next time, and we need to work on this story more.
theNightEnchantress- Well I am glad you thought it was so… god? Lol. Just messing with you. I knew what you meant, and thank you.
shimmeringtears- Yea, after writing it I can see what you mean by it being a little too forward, but the point is I was trying to move the story forward and I simply got impatient. Sorry. Still, glad you like the dance and Vits- she's amazing. Thank Sumner there, Vits is her beautiful creation.
surf with music- I always love your comments, they are so energetic and make me feel proud of writing. I'm glad you liked all the various things that happened in the last chapter, and I hope you enjoy what happens in this chapter as well. Sounds like some cool pieces your band is playing, or was playing (if your out of school or not yet). Enjoy band my friend, you'll miss it when it's gone. I already miss band… but it's ok. Keep on playin'! Oh! I also checked out the music you recommended and I agree, totally awesome.
Alright yall, well, I've got work today (one of my last few days) so I got to get going. Thanks for the wonderful reviews and I look forward to hearing from all of you again. Hugs, love, and all that jazz,
-Olivia N.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
What had happened? It was the question that cut into Raylan's thoughts like a spot light through the fog. In an instant Raylan had seen that perfect green gaze lose their subtle content and fill with an old pain that clouded his eyes and stole the attention she had been so deeply enjoying. Then as if forgotten, he had turned his face away from her to the black and white masses, of which the violet goddess had vanished and now were to be entertained by a new idol. At first there had been just a hum of music, no louder than the gentle flap of hummingbird wings, and then as the purr began to crescendo the source of the magnificent echo emerged in the threshold.
She didn't know that flawless face that appeared from within the music, presenting herself like an angel descending from the heavens upon the staircase in her flattering golden gown. She didn't know that graceful form with her perfect curls, innocent smile, and soulful eyes, nor did she truly care to. Apparently, this angelic woman was the honor of the night though for as soon as she made her grand entrance, holding that perfectly in tune note within the air like a halo of light, the crowds had combusted with applause far more enthusiastic than anyone else had received. The thunderous noise made Raylan jump in surprise, but it was not even a second before the crowds became silent in obedience to a mere wave of this honored woman's delicate gloved hand. Once again, the ball room fell into an eager silence.
A flute had begun at gentle trill and from it the orchestra rose into a soothing intro, the angelic woman descending the staircase with every step on beat, her delicious eyes clasped fondly upon one face in the crowd near the bottom of the stairs. From the sea of people one figure emerged from the foot of the stairs, a fine fitting man in an elegant black tux that now ascended the marble steps towards the golden angel who offered her precious hand to him. Lovingly, the man took her slender hand, placing a gentle kiss upon it before her came to stand at her side, their arms intertwining as he escorted her down to the dance floor. The crowds parted, allowing the glorious two to make their way to the center of the hall, the music following their poised steps precisely. When they came to a halt, the music also paused, and when they had finally positioned their arms about each other the music began once again, the two beginning an elegant waltz about the room given.
Raylan had half expected the crowds to immediately bleed into the waltz as most dances did, but instead they simply stood there as if awaiting permission. It was after the couple did several rounds before Raylan heard what everyone had been waiting for. The music crescendoed, and with it so did the woman's superb voice, rising to fill the room like a chorus of a thousand angels. Before her the crowds melted at her feet, succumbing to the utter magnificence that was her voice, lowering their endless sea of masked faces to her entrancing air. Everyone stared in awe, everyone idolized and yearned for her, everyone… but one rather confused stranger in a scarlet colored gown.
Somehow, Raylan was entirely unaffected by the angelic singing. She was focused more on her two comrades, both of which seemed to be unusually awestruck. Ethan was staring with wide eyes into the distance where Vits had vanished into the crowds, his mouth hanging limply open of which Raylan was certain he would soon start drooling. She simply shook her head at him before turning her gaze up towards Erik, only to collide with a different form of awe. Her companions always gorgeous eyes had glossed over with tears of the most confusing type, mixed with pride and yet the deepest pain. His face was set into a frown, his jaw tight with irritation and his nostrils flaring occasionally as he blew out rapid, vicious breaths. Raylan's eyes narrowed at Erik's expressions, her gaze asking question she knew wouldn't be answered since he seemed so suddenly unaware of her. What was making him act so oddly? The diva wasn't that good… was she?
Curiously, she followed Erik's gaze then, hoping to discover what caused her Phantom to change his emotions so rapidly. What she collided with was the angelic vocalist, standing there in her escort's arms as she radiated amongst an ocean of sameness with the mere significance of her voice. Raylan's brows creased as she eyed the young beauty. A gorgeous treasure no doubt, her slim figure and gently waving curls in contrast with her porcelain skin and wonderfully full eyes made her a sight to be held, but Raylan had never seen Erik react in such a way towards mere beauty. Was it her voice? Again, Raylan's eyes traveled back to Erik and again she examined him. His expressions told her yes. His eyes always fluttered half closed when he was entranced by the sheer magnitude of music, and they were doing it now. So it was her voice, she determined as her eyes drifted back to the singer. She was lulling him with song.
Raylan gave a small, almost inaudible bitter huff of a laugh as her gaze narrowed on the girl. Of course it was her voice- it was always the one's who could sing! Didn't matter who they were, as long as they could sing! Doesn't matter if they'd accept him, as long as they could make 'beautiful' music of the night together! It was then that Raylan caught the gentle sound of grating, and only then did she realize it was her making the odd noise, absently grinding her own teeth. Immediately she commanded her body to cease the action, her cheeks giving a slight flush of embarrassment behind the protection of her mask. In an act to subdue the burn within, her gaze retreated pleadingly to her long time companion, only to return to another absent face as Ethan continued drooling like a dog with its eyes fixed on the prize across the room.
With the slightest growl of irritation, Raylan again switched her gaze back to her supposed date. In that tiny moment when she hadn't been looking at him though, Erik's expressions had rabidly strayed from sad and awed to a mounting rage as his green orbs flashed violently towards the diva and her lover. Raylan's eyes caught Erik's mounting rage quickly, her gaze expressing concern as she again stole a glance at the young singer and then back to Erik. Again she found herself slightly grinding her teeth, and again had to force herself to stop the action as she attempted for light conversation. Her voice was barely a whisper above the diva's boisterous song, but Ray tried anyway as she drew close to his ear and said cautiously, "She... she's quite good, isn't she?"
"Hm?" Erik breathed, his voice distant because he was obviously absent to Raylan's existence as he said quietly, "Indeed she is."
Oddly, Raylan found his empty response and distant attention to cause her to grind her teeth even harder, her blood suddenly rising with a heat that made her cheeks burn and her gaze strike with a blaze of irritated fire. A slight growl emitted from the back of Raylan's throat before she returned her gaze to Ethan, of who to her dismay was still drooling like a baboon. What in the name of all things Holy was going on tonight? Again a foreign rage flared up in Raylan's stomach, creeping its way across her body until she felt the savage urge to slap both of them back into reality. It wasn't natural for either of them to act so weak, so distant. It wasn't natural for them to treat her like she was obsolete… like she was invisible! The bastards! What was so magnificent about those women? About the damn diva? Sure, the little girl could carry a tune, but what was so damn magnificent about her that could steal his attention… her Erik. Raylan's Erik.
As soon as the tender claim drew itself in her mind, Raylan pulled back, her mouth falling limp as what rational thoughts remained screamed in denial. No, no, no, no, no! She couldn't be doing this, thinking these things, feelings these old emotions… not again! No, she made a promise, not just to Ethan but to herself. She couldn't get attached, she couldn't be! And yet from the deep confines of her mind the truth whispered almost manically, "Too late. Too late to pull back. You're captured again, imprisoned by your own desires… your deserted heart. It's your perfect cage Raylan." No! Never again! She swore never again, not another after Arron! She had to be strong, for Ethan, for herself. Her feeble heart couldn't survive another fall, not without the security of wings to fly with, and there was no security here. No safety, no promises, no truth, nothing for certain, so many possibilities, and only one chance.
Oh God, not again.
She had no doubt Erik wouldn't notice her absence, especially as she slipped her arm free and he didn't even give the simplest groan of acknowledgement. Again, Raylan felt that rising fire, the merciless burn of jealousy, but almost as soon as it had emerged she choked the feeling back with a dose of fear. She couldn't let herself feel such impulses, she couldn't allow envy to flourish… she couldn't want him. To want was to hope, and to hope would form the illusion that she could belong in this world, that someone would love the shell she had become… that she would survive tomorrow. A convict couldn't hope, a criminal couldn't plan for the future; the condemned couldn't afford to love.
"I can't do this," She had whispered into the darkness, pleading eyes holding Erik's silhouette as if she were looking at him for the last time, "I can't do this to you." From the pit of her mind emerged that familiar instinct, her only retreat when all plans had failed and all hopes were lost, the one thing she had become sadly good at doing. Run. Escape. Leave, so you can't get hurt. Don't give your heart the chance to fall once more. Get away before you need him. And so she did not fight that dependable instinct, that action that had saved her from death and now would protect her from life… from love. She would run to any place her feet could carry her, to any place away from his beautiful eyes, to any place where she could drowned her heart. Her eyes held Erik's silhouette for as long as her heart could bear, and then stealing one last spiteful gaze at the angelic diva, Raylan turned and entered the masses, seeking for a place where a wilting rose could hide in a field of white and black.
Raylan trailed the outskirts of the crowd; a skilled predator mentally picking apart the herd, investigating her foes. She stalked slowly around the mob of entranced guests, all applauding the enchanting diva hitting the soaring finale before the foyer exploded with cheers wildly celebrating her glory. Her glory, her beauty, her 'magnificent' voice! Raylan seethed at the thought, an alpha wolf growling loudly, threatening every person who drew close to her with a single cold glance. Those who stared would quickly have to turn for her eyes shot poison at any person who dared to make a move.
The air of beauty about her was somewhat drowned in the way she moved then, her shoulders tense and legs stomping so heavily with frustration that you'd think she'd punch a whole in the marble floor. Her fists were clenched tight, her nostrils flared, and her jaw turned in such a way as she angrily grinded her teeth that she resembled a cow chewing. It was an ugly sight and Raylan was is no way unaware of how horrid of a vibe she must have been putting off at the time, but truthfully she didn't care. There was comfort in anger. She would fill to the brim with anger, rage inside until all she could hear was the grinding of her own teeth, and there she would be safe. Her rage would burry those feelings that formed a knot in her stomach and tried to make her see. In anger she could be blind to emotion. In anger she wouldn't be jealous nor want anything… nor miss his attention.
Stay angry, it was all she could truly do. So behind the cheering crowds she transformed into a fiery threat, pacing as her grinding grew louder, drowning out the life around her. She churned and pounded until the noise had filled all her senses, until all she could hear, see, and feel was that gnashing rhythm. She could be blind within that sound, that aggressive release that could shelter her from noticing the twisting knot in her stomach.
Unfortunately, in classic Raylan style, it also distracted her from her surroundings, and naturally she soon came to collide with the broad torso of one of the many guests.
It was a man dressed in a neatly pressed black tuxedo who now stood uncomfortably straight, as Raylan looking down attempted to remove the wrinkles of his expensive suit. With that single mistake the raging phoenix she had been just moments ago smoldered into a pile of ash, that strong figure reverting back to an nervously shy Southern girl as she stuttered awkwardly, "Oh god, forgive me. I did not see you. I am so terribly sorry Monsieur. Please excuse my clumsiness."
"It's quite alright Mademoiselle," The man chuckled, but as soon as he spoke Raylan's eyes bolted up to his filled with the utmost curiosity that cut his laughter short. There was something about his voice…
"You're American too I see," The man had rapidly picked his conversation back up, his voice ringing with a pure northern American accent that Raylan easily recognized as hailing from someplace between Pennsylvania and New York.
Slightly unnerved by this, Raylan forgot about his suit and straightened up, her body poised in a tense way as if she would be ready to attack at any moment as she eyed this man curiously. Her words came out slowly and filled with caution as she tried to divert her accent to not sound so Southern, "You picked up on that quick."
Oddly, the man didn't seem to notice Raylan's tension, instead grinning broadly at the woman before him, exposing polished white teeth from behind a half faced white mask. Dark blue, almost black, eyes stared out at her from behind that mask, hungry and brash eyes that stirred a strange sensation in the back of Raylan's mind, a forgotten something.
"I make it a habit to notice these things," The man crooned, giving Raylan a malicious grin that oddly caused her hair to rise on end and her stomach churn with disgust. It was rude to react in such a way to a perfect stranger, and she realized this, but something in her felt odd when she saw this man's smile. Something in her felt threatened.
In a poor attempt to make an exit, Raylan said hastily, "Well... seems like you're unharmed… I do apologize. Now, please do excuse-"
It was then that the man quite bluntly interrupted her, saying with more so of a demanding tone than a question of, "Would you like to dance?" At first Raylan shook her head and side stepped to walk about the man, but the stranger instead persistently stepped in front of her, commandingly offering his pristine white gloved hand out to her just as the orchestra picked up a waltz and the crowds mingled into a swirling cloud of gowns and tuxedos.
"Uh," Raylan stuttered, staring at his hand as if it were made of snakes, "I don't..." She glanced wistfully towards the crowds, with the empty spot where her companions had abandoned her for the 'perfect woman'. Had they gone? Raylan's eyes danced nervously back to the man, carefully appraising him and then bolting eagerly back to the crowds. Where was He? Her partner had elusively disappeared as always. He had vanished into the masses as if he had never been there, like usual being gone when she needed him the most. Probably off staring at his little goddess, Raylan seethed, and her cheeks once again burned with an almost unprovoked hatred.
In one last attempt her eyes scanned the crowds, though her eyes did not find the one she was searching for but instead the glimmering angel in her handsome husband's arms, twirling gracefully upon the dance floor, wrapped in the air of love. Raylan glared at the little girls curly head for just a moment, until finally she had caught that distant blur of red that she knew for certain would be her Erik. There was a fleeting air of relief, until Raylan noticed where Erik was, perched in the farthest corner of the semi-circle surrounding the dancers, his gleaming eyes staring with an old longing for the young diva on the dance floor. That 'perfect' girl, that little whore, that arrogant bastard! He had forgotten about her entirely, he had forgotten about the one who actually cared, who noticed he was there. He had forgotten the one who wanted him, of course! Raylan once again heard the grinding of her teeth as she saw this, again felt the tightening in her chest, and the rush of boiling blood to her cheeks. He had forgotten all about her! God, why did this hurt? Why did she have to care? It was then that a light bulb went off in her mind, a light that flickered dangerously with careless rage as she made a decision. If he had forgotten her than she would forget him! With bitter eyes Raylan faced the man with a renewed rage and strong determination, placing a surprisingly strong grip on the man's hand as she practically growled, "Yes, I would."
It was almost inhuman how quickly Raylan had pulled the man along then, practically dragging him behind her as she emerged from the crowds and paraded upon the dance floor. She had stopped along the outer rim of dancers, spinning about quickly to face the stranger and placing a firm but poised hand on his shoulder. The man oddly wasn't fazed by her roughness though, smoothly taking one of her hands in his and placing the other firmly on her waist. After an elegant pause, the two had blended in to the circle of waltzing couples; at first in silence as the man lead Raylan along on the dance. They had made one round on the dance floor, of which once complete Raylan had allowed herself to give a fleeting look to where Erik had been. Oddly, Erik had once again vanished from his position. On the second round, the man had impatiently cleared his throat, drawing Raylan's attention to his spying eyes.
"Looking for someone?" The man asked with an odd sense of knowledge in his tone.
"No," Raylan spat back defensively, and then in attempt to change the conversation said quickly, "So… Monsieur?"
"Names aren't important," He demanded, making it clear that this was a final rule.
"I agree," Raylan sighed, slightly eased that she wouldn't have to make up some name off the top of her head, "So Monsieur… we've concurred that we are both American. So what brings you to Paris?" Slowly, Raylan forced a casual smile, giving a fleeting look over the mans shoulder on their third way around and once again seeing nothing. No Erik.
"I'm here on business," The man said almost harshly, once again snatching Raylan's eyes forward, "In need of tying up a few lose ends."
"Ah," Raylan said, finding it harder to hold that smile as the man's eyes drew even more threatening, "Then we have the same story Monsieur."
In response, the man gave a short cackle that sent an odd shiver down her spine, "You're here on… business?"
"In a way," Raylan replied coldly, and then taking another almost eager glance into the crowds, she questioned with an air of disinterest, "So tell me Monsieur… what is your business in?"
Again the man laughed maliciously, and again Raylan's gaze snapped to look at his oddly before the man strangely stopped the waltz, twirled Raylan out, and brought her in to where her back was shoved aggressively against his chest. With one arm wrapped about her waist and the other over her chest, the man pinned her in a sort of bare hug against himself, a hold that suddenly sent shocks of pain and warning up her spine and into her head. Raylan gave a twist, trying to move from the man's arms but found herself unable to do so. Her heart had begun to thud rapidly against her chest, but for the moment Raylan forced herself not to squirm and at least have appearance of being calm. After all, there was no need to panic with a man that posed no threat.
"My profession," The man had whispered then as if hissing a terrible secret into her ear, "is in hunting down those convicted of serious felonies and returning them to their rightful justice. I am here to catch a criminal, convicted of armed robbery and the murder of thirteen Americans."
Now she could panic.