A/N: Hey, I'm back with another chapter! This one's kind of long so I've split it up into two parts. The next part should be coming soon. I'm still pretty busy, but marching band is over, so that frees up my weekends. Thanks to all my faithful reviewers! And if ANY of you have a suggestion or idea (or, especially, an opinion on whom the Phantom should end up liking...hehehe) PLEASE tell me!
With that said, here are a few reviewer replies:
GypsyOutcast: Oh, sorry, evil Erik won't appear for at least one or two more chapters. I might add some mean-ness in a couple of these chapters, but not likely. Don't get me wrong, I LOVE evil Erik, but right now I'm trying to get a background story on some of these other girls, and for us to know about them, Erik has to ask. And I don't think evil Erik woud be very interested in their "feelings". But, don't worry, I plan on him turning menacing soon enough, and kicking some butt in later chapters :P
RubyMoon2: Lol. Well, I'm glad you like Celine. What I was trying to do is have all the girls who might fall for Erik to have majorly differing personalities. Celine is the timitd one, but that's not necessarily a disadvantage. Who knows, Erik might like being the "protector"?
VagrantCandy: Who ever said they were all French? (-evil laghter-) I'll clear up things in the next few chapters as to everyone's background. (Well, everyone IMPORTANT, at least.)
Fallen.Broken.Hidden.: Well, I hope that you'll like my characters. I'm trying my hardest to give them interesting, believable backgrounds with well-rounded personalities.
Darth-Phantom-1870: Ah, it's not hard writing an intimidating Erik, really. Just start typing when you're moody, always works for me:P. That was one of my favorites lines that I wrote in that chapter, actually. Glad you liked it.
cylobaby: Lol, I was writing this chapter before I even got your review! Want more Leah/Phantom action? You'll love this.
Thanks to everyone for the wonderful reviews! I live off reviews, so unless you want me to die (and, more importantly, end the story) keep reviewing!
12
A Night with the Harem
Amy leaned on the wall her cot was up against, staring intently at the sleeping dancers. Well, most of them were asleep. Leah, with the almost creepy bright blue eyes, was watching the Phantom with a somewhat curious gaze. She had always been the one who noticed things out of the corps de ballet. Leah had an open mind, which was probably why she wasn't disturbed by Amy's personality. Sighing gently, the girl reached under her bumpy bed and retrieved her notebook.
It was a large book filled with page upon page of empty paper. The cover was worn, the once earthy green now fading to a dull gray. The pages were thick and yellowed, sewn together by a thin strip of leather, and were nearly falling out of the book itself. It was the only thing Amy had, though, and she loved it dearly.
A worn pen was smashed in between the pages, used as a bookmark to keep her place as well as a writing tool. A hole in the rotting wall just behind her head held a small pot of precious black ink.
Dipping the rusty old pen in the jar, the girl scribbled out a few lines in the book, glancing at the people around her - including the Phantom - from time to time.
Her bright green eyes lit up, dulling only when she had to stop and think or dip the pen in ink once again.
Funny, how the longer one lives, the less one knows. The more you learn, the more you question. Idiocy would be a welcome relief to the knowledge of the world. The world has cruelties man cannot even imagine, yet they created such tortures themselves!
Yes, ignorance truly would be bliss.
But no one is that lucky. No one is spared from the cold, harsh grasp of life. Some say life is wonderful, but they are not truly living. They are trapped inside a fantasy, a fairytale. True life is far from wonderful. It is anything but!
Angie - our dear, sweet, heroine - learned these things the hard way.
Lord, how she missed America! Her home, though rotten and in shambles, was - is! - far better than the reckless streets of Parisian night.
Men - the greasy, slimy, rotting filth that plagues the Earth - crawl aimlessly through the harsh and bitter chill of the night air. Angie knows no better. Angie - dear, sweet! - is naive. Child, poor, poor child, how I weep for you! I - the author - am your soul and you are the innocence I never had!
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Leah gazed at the Phantom intently, genuinely curious as to his presence. Why was he here? What did he want with them? And, most importantly, why the sudden change of heart? Didn't he kidnap Amy just a night ago?
The stories about the ghost in front of her just didn't add up to his actions of the moment. He was frightening, yes(Leah had turned deathly pale at seeing him strangle La Sorelli.), but he wasn't as the stories described him.
His menacing black form stood stock still in the shadows, a white porcelain mask glowing in the moonlight slanting through the window, ebony cloak enveloping him in the darkness. His brow creased in concentration while his thin black eyebrows came together, nearly touching. The jaw was in a position where you could tell his teeth were clenched, and his mouth was set in a firm, thin line.
Those creepy golden eyes of his seemed to spark and flare as his mind wandered to who knew what.
The ghost had a thin, nearly lanky body, but with evident strength in his form. If you looked closely, as Leah was, you could see the smallest of lines around his eyes; whether from age or stress, she did not know.
In all respects he should have been the most frightening thing the girl had ever seen.
And yet, he wasn't.
She just couldn't explain it, but there was something about him that...
"What do you want?"
The harsh, low voice rumbled quietly, coming from the Phantom's corner.
Leah jumped and blinked furiously, shaking her head to rid herself from her train of thought. She was so preoccupied with questions that she didn't even notice the ghost had turned towards her, catching her in the act of staring at him.
Those strange golden eyes of his gave her a look that said "You idiot, of course I'd catch you," but still she tried to ignore the embarrassment.
"I...uh..."
"What?"
His words were harsh and seemed to summon tears from the girl's eyes unbidden. She bit the inside of her cheek and held her emotions in check. Stupid girl, she thought to herself.
"Just...thinking..." she said in a small voice.
The Phantom made a noise of disbelief in the back of his throat and leaned against the wall, the wood creaking slightly from his weight.
"Thinking? About what? How I'm going to kill you in your sleep?"
Leah was shocked by his words and left speechless, her eyes open wide and staring at the dark form before her.
He sighed and closed his eyes, lifting his face towards the ceiling.
"I'm not going to hurt you," the ghost said carefully, sliding slowly down the wall until he was in a sitting position, back against the wall and arms atop his knees.
"You don't have to be afraid."
"I-I'm not afraid," said the blue-eyed girl shakily.
He just snorted in reply and leaned his head against the wall behind him.
"I'm not!" said Leah and little more strongly.
"Right," mumbled the Phantom sarcastically under his breath but just loud enough for the girl to hear.
Her brows came together as she frowned, watching the steady rise and fall of the apparition's chest. Tossing the sheet off of her,Leah threw her legs over the side of the cot and pushed herself off the bed.
"I'll show you," she said to herself while striding towards the ghost. About halfway across the room, her pace began to slow as she took in the darkness of her surroundings. Her speed had gradually decreased until she had come to a dead halt in the middle of the room, the creaking floorboards below her feet the only sound in that dreadful silence.
She could feel the eyes of some of the dancers on her back, but the most ominous eye of all was that of the Phantom's. She dared a glance at him and saw that his eyebrow was cocked and he had a defiant smirk on his lips.
Her blood began to boil and she was determined to move closer, but her feet refused.
"Scared?" he whispered smugly.
"N-no-" she began, but a gunshot in the distance cut her off, making her jump. When the sound died away she began to shake more and stared down at her feet.
"I'm not afraid, I'm not afraid," she chanted over and over again, trying to convince herself it was true.
The ghost frowned, tiring of her games, and waved a hand at her.
"Go back to your bed, girl."
A spark of stubborn anger flared in Leah's eyes as she looked up at him.
"No."
He slit his eyes at her and spoke again, his voice lower and darker.
"That is an order. Go, now."
"No!"
With a final burst of will power, Leah started off towards him again, this time not stopping for anything. She stopped, fists clenched, when she was standing directly in front of him. This time she had her own smug look on her face, as if to say "I told you so."
"Fine," the Phantom said, his calm voice more unnerving then any shout of anger. Swift as a panther, he jumped up from his seat and grabbed onto the girl's shoulders, dragging both her and himself down to the floor again.
"Then stay with me!"
He sat her down right beside him and crossed his arms over his knees, giving her a glare that said "Move and die."
She took the hint and leaned against the wood, sighing.
"I told you I wasn't afraid," she whispered slightly.
"Say that again, and I'll strangle you."
Leah shut up, not thinking him to be one to make idle threats.
For a long while she sat beside him in silence. The melodic sound of his soft breath was like a drum beat to her ears, the shots and noise from outside like the overlapping melody. The chill of the night became evident on the girl after a while, goose flesh prickling her arms and legs. As she breathed out heavily, a puff of white escaped her lips, screaming of how obviously cold it was.
The quiet grated on her nerves as she sat there and, even though she was right next to the Phantom, she had the odd feeling of being alone.
"It's cold," she whispered, trying anything to break the awkward silence that had fallen upon them.
The Opera Ghost eyed her curiously and leaned his chin on his arms.
"Good. Serves you right, you stubborn little child."
Leah huffed indignantly.
"I was only trying to prove I wasn't afraid!"
"A lot of good that did," he replied bitterly. "But the truth is, you are afraid. I can feel it."
"Well, maybe you're feelings are wrong!" Her voice grew more defensive.
Fast as lightning, the ghost grabbed onto the girl's shoulder, making her "yip" in surprise. He released her almost instantly, turning his face away so she couldn't see his reaction.
"I'm never wrong," he whispered brokenly, the compliment more of a curse on his lips.
Leah cast her eyes to the floor, staring intently at a crack in the wood, trying to hold back her tears.
"Why?" Her voice was hoarse and soft at the same time, yet held a degree of innocent confusion to it.
"What?"
"W-why are you...protecting us?"
His golden eyes closed for a moment as he breathed deeply, contemplating his answer.
"Why would I leave you to fend for yourselves?"
"It-It's just that...I..." She sighed. "I just don't understand. I mean, you look so..." Her words trailed off here, having heard the stories of his deformity. She didn't know if they were true, but, then again, why else would he wear a mask?
"But you act so...different. People say you're evil, and I've seen it...tonight...with Sorelli..."
She glanced up to make sure she wasn't overstepping her bounds to find the Phantom watching her curiously.
"But...but I feel that you're...not like that."
She sighed in frustration and ran a hand through her hair, closing her strange blue eyes.
"I'm sorry, I must sound like an idiot."
"No," he broke in before she could go on. "I don't know why I'm doing this, to tell the truth. I guess since I was never - " He almost said 'since I was never loved' but broke off, not willing to reveal too much to the girl.
"I don't want to see you getting hurt," he finished.
There was another lapse of awkward silence, which Leah broke soon after it set in.
"I'm Leah, if you didn't already know. Leah Christoph."
The Phantom nodded in reply. When it seemed that he wasn't going to answer, the girl continued.
"W-what's your name?"
He smirked and gave a small snort of amusement.
"I'm a ghost, remember? I have no name."
She had the strong urge to roll her eyes, but resisted, and instead stared at him for a few moments. The set of his jaw was strong, his teeth were clenched. Gazing up towards his face, she was startled by the thought that had entered her mind: He was quite handsome.
From her position on his left side, she couldn't see the looming white mask that adorned the right side of his face. From this view, he looked much like a normal man. A very tall, strong, mysterious "normal man".
She noticed that the edge around his eye seemed to twitch with the effort of not glancing at her. He knew she was watching, and she knew that he knew. But, for some unnamed reason, he was being stubborn and refused to look her way.
Great, Leah thought. A man of pride.
A man.
Just a man.
She shifted and jabbed him in the ribs with a finger stiff from cold, making the Opera Ghost jump slightly and latch onto her wrist.
"And what was that!" he hissed harshly into her ear.
The girl wrenched her wrist from his grasp and looked up at his glowering eyes.
"That, monsieur, was a test, and you passed."
He continued to look at her, then slit his beautiful golden eyes and studied her face carefully.
"A test of what?"
"I was wondering if my hand would pass through your gut," Leah replied with a sardonic smirk.
Sighing in frustration, the ghost prodded her to continue with his annoyed glare.
"Well, if you talk like a man, walk like a man, and feel like a man, then, monsieur, you must be a man."
Then she added, as an afterthought: "You're no ghost."
The Phantom nearly laughed, but held it in, settling for resting his head against the wooden wall instead.
"Disappointed?" he spoke almost playfully, but with a slight edge of danger, as if the question would have consequences if answered incorrectly.
Leah didn't ignore that underlying voice.
"Not if you give me your name," she said, after a moments deliberation.
"I don't remember," he answered bluntly, giving her a glance that told her to drop the subject.
Unfortunately, the young dancer didn't notice.
"Oh, come now, don't take me for a fool!"
"Leave it, mademoiselle," the ghost said darkly, his voice (and the cold of night that Leah had momentarily forgotten) causing chills to spread down the girl's frame. Still she pursued the subject.
"It's just a simple name."
"You wouldn't understand."
"I might if you told me."
"No."
"Yes."
"No."
"Please?"
"Look," he yelled at the top of his lungs. "My mother screamed when she gave birth to me. Screamed! She was so disgusted by my deformities that she didn't even take the time to give me a proper name. My name is a SCREAM! Err, eeek. Ereek, Erik!"
At least, that's what he said in his mind.
In reality, he only gave her a murderous glare and said "no" once more.
Leah consented and dropped the matter, her chin falling against her chest as she looked to the ground. Determination glittered in her eyes, though, and she resolved to find out his name, if it was the last thing she did.
It was late into the night, and the temperature seemed to drop at least twenty degrees. Leah's body began to chill once again, and she gripped her shoulders to keep out the cold. He teeth began to chatter against her will, and it took most of her energy to force them to stop. Now spent, she was ready to collapse onto the bed, but refused to leave the Phantom.
One, because she would never show him she was cold and, therefore, weak.
Two, she wanted, if very secretly, to be near this strange man.
"Cold?"
She nearly murmured confirmation, but bit her blue lip to hold her tongue.
"Don't be afraid," he spoke softly.
Leah was about the ask why when she felt two hands - gloved - grip onto her waist and pull her into a black, but warm, oblivion.
The Phantom settled the young ballerina in his lap, two long, strong legs towered like walls to the left and right of her, his knees level with her chin. The lower part of his legs wrapped comfortingly around her ankles, keeping her both steady and warm. He brought her head back against his chest, making her lean fully into him. Then, as they were both fairly settled, he wrapped the long, black cloak around both their bodies and rested his arms on top of hers.
The embrace might have been one of lovers, had the woman not been shaking quite as much and the man not had a distant, careless look plastered on his face.
"Warmer?" he whispered, hot breath making loose strands of her hair flutter softly.
"Mmhmm," she mumbled, the folds of the cloak laying over her lips and nose, muffling her reply.
"Good," he said, leaning his head back again.
She couldn't help what she did next. In her drowsy state, she wasn't of her own mind.
The cold had gotten to her, and this man's warmth was comforting.
The steady beat of his heart in her ear was like a hypnotic melody.
Her aching limbs screamed for revival.
Leah fell asleep in the Phantom's arms.