That damned bitch! How could she do something like that to me?! And in front of the managers and even Belle! Seeing her bolt out the door made my stomach turn, and hearing her vomit made me want to reach across the room and strangle the life out of that diva. In some ways she was worse than Carlotta. Raoul has turned her mind from the once young, innocent, kind child that was wide eyed for music was now a selfish, pompous prima donna. The managers' mouths were hanging open wide like cod fish while the demon was grinning like a cat.
"I rather like the idea of their being a competition between the two of us. And I am happy to oblige my adoring public but only on one small condition."
"And…and that would be…?" Leroux stuttered. Neither one of them knew which way was up, and neither did I. All I could do was stand in the silence like I always did. Silence was always the once comforting thing I had, and even know it was the only thing I could count on to have some sense of normalcy. Here I stand now before the one woman my soul could not live or even function without and she is the once weaving me into a trap of words. Her chocolate eyes fluttered to me.
"You remember what it was like during Don Juan? Sensual, romantic the two of us being on stage together? That is my one condition: you must sing the lead male role. I trust you will write everything else accordingly…" Now I knew I was going to be sick. We all could hear Belle still vomiting over the trash can in the hall.
"What… how will you…" Badeaux slowly began to babble and point at my face, or more my mask. No one seemed to know and answer for this. Last time, the character was wearing a mask to hide his identity from the lovely girl. Would I write something like that again? Now will be my chance to premier my latest invention… I stare at the managers, who for once are doing something right; simply managing the office and leaving the art to me.
"So it's settled then; Monsieur Fantome will write what we have discussed and have it ready by the end of the week for rehearsal on Monday." Christine gave one more, sly grin as she exited the office as Leroux called Belle back in. I retreated to the shadows for more my sake than hers. Her face was pale like my mask, her eyes hollow as she shut the door behind her, finding odd curiosity in her old boots. I didn't pay much attention to their brief conversation but kept my eyes on Belle. I wanted to make everything right by her.
"You think? How can you not know what part you sing?" All I could do was growl. She isn't trained you morons!
"If you will excuse us, we have an opera to write." Her head remained downcast as I led her out of the office. Once we were out of sight she began to pull out of my grip. I tightened my grasp on her wrist, threatening to break her wrist if she squirmed any more. I pulled her close to me, my voice a deep whisper. "You are going to listen to what I have to say." I dragged the mule up to my box and locked the door. She was going to listen to me and there was no way around it.
"Erik Destler you better tell me what the HELL is going on or" I slammed my mouth to hers and kissed her furiously. She slowly melted into my arms, one arm around my neck and the other on my face. I am about to break your heart, please allow me one last kiss before you leave me… soon one hand was on my chest as the pushed me away. "Tell me right now; once and for all… Is that baby yours?"
"I am not sure…" I could see her heart begin to break, like a thousand pounds were slowly crushing a marble statue.
"So you did sleep with her, didn't you?" I couldn't answer her. At the time I would have shouted it from the roof top 'yes I made love to Christine!' but now I was ashamed of what I had done. "I want an answer Erik! Did you sleep with that woman YES OR NO!" her scream broke the dam in my soul.
"YES I DID!" the world around me rattled at my battle cry. Belle refused to yield as a clap of thunder rumbled through the opera house. "I slept with her, one night and nothing more. She came to me the night before her wedding. We were two broken people caught in the heat and passion of a moment and fell to weakness." I finally looked into her eyes; those dark blue orbs shattering as she began to process my confession.
"How could you NOT know if that is your little bastard or not?! She said he had blue eyes just like you!"
"I haven't seen the child; how do we know she isn't lying?" Her hands shoved me from her path, taking with me the last living part of my soul. It was like no other pain I had felt; even Christine leaving me could not compare to the shattering of my heart as Belle walked to the door. Each pat of her feet against the hardwood floor sent another crack through my heart until it was nothing more than a heap of crushed brick and mortar. I collapsed in the chair as my mask slid from my face. My tears had washed away the only shred of dignity I had left; this girl had reduced me to a primal state. I cared not for anything anymore but death. I could faintly hear her cries and her fists trying to break down the oak door. Soon the cries became more of a whimper as her dress ripped, for what reason I know not. For the first time since the night she was stabbed I got on my knees and prayed to God above. The God who gave me this face, the face of Satan; the God who gave me Christine and who gave me Belle. I don't even know if you are still listening to me anymore, or if you even care but please, let her believe me… You know my heart better than anyone, I was weak and stupid… please don't take Belle away from me, please… I was a broken man, broken and pathetic, but God must have been listening to this bitter man's plea. For nothing could prepare me for the words she said.
"I'm sorry…" My neck nearly broke at her words, and in a fraction of a second I was by her side raining tears on her dress.
"Please forgive Erik…please… Erik begs of his Belle…" I lay my forehead on her back and soak her dress as I wrap my arms around her. Her voice is shaky like that of an elderly woman, very frail and weak.
"Help me…please…" I open my eyes long enough to see her go limp like a doll.
"Belle…?" I gently shake her, with no response. Turning her to me, her eyes are closed, the last of her tears rolling down her cheek. I pick her up and curl her into my chest, her left hand still glistening in the faint light. I smile and blink away tears as I begin to walk to my home under the opera house. I kiss her forehead several times as I carry her home, taking in the sleeping woman before me who is still my betrothed. The air below is cold; so cold I could see my breath but I don't mind. I lay her in bed and change her into the night gown before lighting the fire just beyond the bathtub. The sound of the cracking softly echoes in the room as it fights away the bitter cold. I return to my betrothed's side, who is still out cold. I want so badly for her to awake so I can kiss her, to tell her I love her and how sorry I am, but the only way I knew how was to write the opera with her coming out on top, and I knew just how to do so. I grab as much parchment as I can along with a deep supply of ink for my quill and crawl into bed beside her and scribble away at the opera. My mind was brimming with ideas until I settled on the one thing everyone wants the most; a love story. Two sisters, both of wealthy background are attending the gala of the newly opened Opera Garner. Everyone is a-buzz over the new male lead singer. At the masquerade ball, both girls fall in love with the lead tenor and compete for his affections. One sister, Trinity, has the voice of an angel and sings arias like no other. The other sister, Anastasia, can dance to anything she hears. The opera is centered on their competition for Christian and his favor. He obviously has Anastasia win, his way of getting back at the spoiled diva. He could hear Belle softly groaning as she rolled to her side, facing Erik. The clock in the hall rang out twelve slow bongs, the last one waking Belle.
"Erik…?"
"Shhh… go back to sleep mon amour…" I pressed my lips to her temple as her eyes closed one again in sleep.
"I love you…" her soft murmur was loud and clear in my ears. I set my quill aside, happy with what I had written for the day and curled around her.
"I love you too mon amour…"
