Chapter 10: The Phantom's Masterwork.
Erik watched the young woman limp from the room and disappear into the darkness. She had changed much in the time since Christine. Her dancing was far more advanced than any of the other senior ballerinas, perhaps it was because of her mother, but Erik doubted this. He believed that Meg had held something else, that many of the other ballerinas had not yet found, and this was a love and devotion to the art and not vanity. It was true that Meg was a beautiful girl, likely the target of much affection from the young men patrons, and yet she didn't seem to take much interest in this. Her duty was to the theatre and to the dance, to make the dance the most that it could be. At one time she had envied Christine for her vocal abilities but since seeing the young diva leave the stage she had begun to be the envy of the ballerinas. It was true, however, that she did work harder than most at her craft, and even more so since she had met the Phantom. Erik knew he had placed a fear of perfection into the girl but now, after watching her and seeing what was happening, believed that he had been making her work to hard. It would be time to back away from his tutelage of the young ballerina, she had reached the place he wanted to see her at. She would lead he new work.
He spun suddenly on his heals and headed off into the darkness of another hallway. The opera house had fallen silent like a tomb. He made his way through the silence, quickly, but with a purpose. He had travelled this passages, maneuvering the halls, many time in complete secret and had never stopped, though some may believe him to have disappeared. He had made his rounds on a less frequent schedule than before but he was beginning to come back into it. He realised long ago that this was his home and his world. He had been well travelled at one point in his life but it had led to more heartaches than he dared to remember. This theatre was a refuge and a secluded quiet place, where in the darkest hours of the night he was free to do as he will. It was here that he could come to the world above and be happy to set his sights on the beauties of the world. He could see the world, from his theatre, perch for the innocence that she possessed and was happy at these times to be apart of it. The theatre in itself was his muse. The ballerinas now the spark that lit the fame of imagination. The silence of ballet slippers had replaced the vivacious sound of the voices of choruses and soloist and yet he believe that they could co-exist, quite nicely, without being separated into their categories of musical forms.
The lights had all be extinguished in the theatre and the workers and artist had all retired to their respected quarters and homes within the theatres limits. The only light that did manage to penetrate the darkness was that of the silver white moon. It shaun in through the windows and reflected off the rich golds and marble of the grand theatre, that never seemed to change. It was the architecture of the building and the familiar old stateliness that keep it familiar. It was like an old friend that would lived out its life with you and though you knew it changed you could never see them happening.
He stopped suddenly outside the office of the managers. The hall was quiet, but a dim light came out from under the door of the office. Erik placed his ear against the door and listened for a moment. There was no sound on the other side of the door. They were silent with each other, they didn't walk around the office and yet it was clear that they were behind the locked door. Erik remained silent for a moment pondering the best way to attract the attention of the manages. Should he slip the manuscript beneath the door and just leave it to them to continue as planned. Should he threaten them like he had done before. Taking a deep break and bracing himself, he made his decision and raised his fist and pounded it hard on the door.
"That the devil is going on?" Andre cried.
"Who the devil is disturbing us," Firmin yelled at the door.
"The devil himself," Erik said.
"Oh good heavens, Firmin, did you hear that?" Erik could hear Andre ask.
"We've gone mad," Firmin said as he walked to the door and unlocked it, "I suppose its best to get things over with," he said and opened the door, "oh its you," he said as he stepped aside to let the Phantom look into the office.
Andre panicked at the sigh of the Phantom. Some papers were frantically shuffled into the desk before he forced himself to look back at the man in the mask, "that beast isn't with you, it is?" he asked.
Erik pushed the door aside and walked into the room, "no, she is not, but I can fetch her should you care to see her," he said.
"No, no, for the love of God, no," Andre cried as he jumped up onto the desk.
Erik rolled his eyes and sat himself down in one of the chairs, that occupied the office.
He always looked so proper and professional when he did show himself. Not much of a ghost at all but a man of great standing, of money and knowledge. It was this sense of status and pride that made him so intimidating. His eyes were harsh and cold behind his mask and yet they were filled with knowledge and an understanding for the musical craft that if was no wonder his musical ear was so finely tuned. His eyes burned with passion for his work and for the performance. He stared at the managers and Andre and Firmin stared nervously back. The silence that had fallen between the three men was deafening and only built the mystery of the Phantom of the Opera.
"So what brings you out?" Firmin finally asked not wanting to feel the burning of the Phantom's eyes any longer.
"For the very reason that you called on me," Erik said.
Firmin and Andre exchanged quizzical glances and then looked back at the Phantom, who sat calmly in his chair, the expression on his face was one of contentment for the managers confusion.
"We haven't called on you," Firmin said
"You told us not to, Monsieur," Andre said noticing the Phantom's impatience starting to show.
"I could have started with the notes all over again," Erik said as he shifted in his seat.
"Oh God not those again," Firmin mumbled.
"I'll be sure to write and announce my coming next time," Erik said forcefully at Firmin, "but it was you that sent for me in the first place." he sighed and angrily pulled a manuscript out from under his cape and tossed it onto the desk.
Andre and Firmin stared down at the red cover of the manuscript, fearful to touch it but awed by the immense presence that the work seemed to have.
"You're finished so soon," Andre asked still staring at the booklet in front of him.
"Its been a work in progress," Erik said.
"La Dance du Diable?" Firmin asked feeling a bit unnerved, "we asked for an opera not a ballet!" he said pushing himself away from the desk.
"I agreed to no such request," Erik said his eyes burning with anger for the man disobedience, "you asked for a work to save your financial arrangements at this opera house and I have delivered," he hissed at Firmin, "this, my managers, is not a ballet nor an opera in the traditional respects. It is a Masterpiece," he added and watched as Andre's interest grew.
"A new form of musical drama," Andre said excitedly as he slowly drew back the red cover to view the manuscript below.
The musical writing was beautiful and precise on the page. The chords and lyrics melted together seamlessly. The orchestration was clear and exciting, filled with dynamics and chromaticism. The Phantom's penmanship was like none of the other great composers. It was a seamlessly beautiful manuscript, clearly a final draft of a many month process.
"Its beautiful," Andre sighed as he continued to look through the pages of black and white.
"I can't believe you are falling for this foolery, Andre," Firmin said as he walked to the window.
"This was all your idea, Firmin," Andre yelled, "how dare you speak this way, with the composer in the room. If you think you could make anything as beautiful as this then you should have done it yourself and never went in search of the Phantom and now just because you are judging this book by its cover, as something that you didn't want, you are willing to anger and put you own well being in jeopardy. I'll have nothing to do with your arrogance, you wanted this and now we'll see it finished," Andre became angrier and angrier as he spoke, "it is clear Firmin that you are stuck in the past, and this business need the future to survive."
"Perhaps, Monsieur Andre, we should leave Monsieur Firmin to decide what is best for the Opera Populair and you and I will usher in the new revolution of musical performance. We could take the musical community of Paris by storm. It is time for you Andre, to leave the old and move on to the new age. This masterpiece is the future!" Erik said as he placed a hand on his manuscript and looked excitedly at Andre. He realised then that Andre wasn't what he had once thought of him. He seemed to have a love and excitement for music that spanned farther than the money aspects of the business. It was, when it all boiled down to it, a love of the art.
"You wouldn't dare," Firmin yelled.
"Wouldn't I Monsieur?" Erik growled as he drew himself up before Firmin to his tallest and towered over the now trembling man, "you know what I am capable of."
Firmin fell back into his seat gasping for air at the shear fear of the Phantom of the Opera.
"You deserved that," Andre said to Firmin, his eyes never leaving the manuscript, "this really is quite impressive," he added excitedly, "doomed lovers, a seductress who moves through dance, the blistering fire of passion and agony of defeat, truly I am captivated by your story telling. Please, Monsieur le Phantom, explain to me your vision for this masterwork."
"Oh yes please do," Firmin said, his voice filled with contempt as he sat back in his chair and pouted.
"It's really quite simple and yet so very extravagant, that I guarantee it to pull in even the biggest dullard you could find in Paris. He'll be captivated with the magic of the music and the dance and the song," Erik said excited and filled with passion for his music. He grabbed hold of the manuscript and flung the pages forward, "If he is not moved by the vocal arias of love and pain, then the huge choruses of domination and terror will sear his heart. The dazzling innocence of the ballet troop will enchant and invigorate the audience. But should our dullard not be captivated by now, it is our devils dance that will seal his fate. He'll weep to view the sorrow and the loss of the devil, in her beautiful, yet tragic dance, the Devils Lament," he said and pointed to the place in the manuscript where a fully orchestrated passage lay waiting to be played. It was rich with chordal material, moving rhythmic passages and high energy dissonances. The score at this point showed very little in the way of direction in the dance sequence but it was clear by the notes on the page that the dancer would find no trouble in knowing exactly what the Phantom wanted to see in the dance passage. In Erik's mind he had already viewed the Devil's Lament and was ready to see it played out on the stage.
"Magnificent!" Andre cried as the Phantom's excitement was passed onto him, "brilliant!"
"Let me see it," Firmin said, also captivated by the Phantom's description, as he ran around the desk and looked over Andre's shoulder, "we've never had an ensemble that large before," he gasped as he looked down at the extent of the instrumental orchestration needed for the passage, "do we even have room for this?"
"Make room," the Phantom said, "you asked for a ground breaking work, to through the Opera Populair back into the spotlight of Paris, well here it is. This is what I have written," he said proudly and moved back to his seat to watch what was to unfold next. He had lit the flames of excitement and doubt, this was exactly what was needed to fuel the fire.
"Its going to take months to establish a cast and an ensemble and even the crew to put on a work of this magnitude. The auditions will be hell and rehearsals will be very time consuming but I believe that it can be done and be done in true Parisian style. This story and this music is just to terribly brilliant to give up. We have to see it through to the end!" Andre said fulled of excitement and optimism.
"Now Andre, listen to reason please, this is crazy," Firmin said.
"That is the reason it is perfect," Andre said forcefully, "don't you see if we can pull it off, we'll be known far and wide for the best vocalist, the best choruses and the best ballerinas to ever grace the stage," he added then narrowed his stare at Firmin again, "besides, this craziness was all your idea in the beginning. Now that you have made this bed sleep in it. This is the extravaganza that we need, open your eyes and see it for what it is! The bigger the better. The public will never be able to resist the grandeur of it when the news gets out."
"It'll ruin us if it doesn't do all that it promises to do," Firmin yelled.
"We're ruined now," Andre yelled back as he through one of the account books across the table, "don't deny it you know, as well as I do, what is in that book. No matter what we do its all there in the red. We have nothing more to loose but everything to gain don't you understand that! This over the top production is our last ditch effort."
"It will never work," Firmin said as he fell back into his chair again, "we have to find the best singers, the best ballerinas, the best musicians, all this with the looming of the Phantom's actions. People don't forget."
"No but they do get bored," Andre said, "a little danger is worth all the excitement in the world."
Erik grinned at the comment, then stood from his chair, "the best you will find, because I will allow nothing but the best to pass through the auditions. The people you will bring in by using my name and finally the money you will have with a brilliant rising star in the lead ballet roll," he said and strolled around the room, "it will work, because it will not be a second rate performance. If, after everyone has been chosen and they can't cut what we ask of them, then they are out and we'll re cast, do you understand?" he said and glared at Firmin, "take as long as you need to organise the auditions. Say what you need to say to gain publicity," he said as he glanced over at Andre.
"What name shall I associate with the work?" he asked looking back at the manuscript.
"The name that everyone will recognise," Erik said, "The Phantom, is name enough for the public."
"I'll have posters drafted right away and if I have to visit every music school, every dance studio and every orchestra hall in Europe, myself, I will put out the word about the auditions," Andre said as he picked up the manuscript then turned to Firmin, "you can help me or you can sit and pout, but be warned, should this masterpiece take off and do better than we could ever imagine I'll not give you any more credit than, that it was you who dreamed of another work set by the Phantom," he said and gently place the manuscript into the theatre safe.
"Don't be silly," Firmin sighed, "of course I'm going to help with it. I have little to no choice now."
"This is wonderful news," Erik said with a smile and moved toward the door, "but be warned, if things do not go as I have planned them, I will shut it down. However, if everything falls into place and the work goes ahead without any troubles and becomes my greatest achievement, you'll never have to worry again," he added and passed through the doorway, disappearing into the darkness.
"This is so exciting, think of the possibilities," Andre said as he reached for his hat and his coat, "we have a composer in residence, the show is bound to be brilliant so long as he gives the order."
"This is suicide I am telling you," Firmin sighed and reached for his hat and coat.
"It is our biggest business venture yet," Andre smiled, "this is cause to celebrate."
"It's cause to drink myself into non existence," Firmin grumbled.
"Not until its over my good man, not until its over!"
The two men left the office for the first time in weeks and went on their own ways until they would have to return. It was yet another new beginning for the Opera Populair.