Update: As I've posted so many chapters on tumblr already. I'll be posting these three at a time on here until it's caught up-in case anyone is wondering why so many chapters are popping up at once.
Warlow adjusted the white bowtie around his neck.
"There, that's a little better." He said aloud. After all, for a night at the opera he-as well as the other residents-wanted to look their best.
"Blast it all!" Panaro griped, trying to find his matching jacket.
Smoothing down his wig, Crawford glanced in the normally concealed mirror. Satisfied, he draped the black sheet back over the glass. The less he had to look at his reflection was for the better.
Meanwhile downstairs Cherik was debating which mask would be best for their outing tonight, while down the hall Destler was-quite literally-putting on his face. Lerik was readjusting his cloak, draping it over his shoulders, Winslow was waiting impatiently in the parlour.
Upstairs on the top floor, Gerik adjusted his cravat tightening it in place. Mr. Y let him borrow it, the older man having impeccable taste. Over the last three weeks since they met, the men found themselves to kindred spirits, bonding very well together as-albeit-friends. Gerik smirked, looking rather sharp.
Kerik pulled his hair back as he put on his mask, tying it in place in the back.
He started however at the sound of a THUD followed by loud moaning and wailing.
Gerik could hear the wailing as he was heading down but deciding it best to not intervene, the movie adapted man slowly crept downstairs, noticing the Meriks crowded around at the top of their stairwell, the wailing even louder. Kerik marched down the hall, finding the source of all the noise.
Through the crowd Karimloo lay on the floor, his mask and wig discarded beside him as he clutched his head painfully. Unfortunately he was more susceptible to head trauma due to the exposure of his deformity. And Karimloo wasn't paying enough attention when he called out that he would be waiting downstairs, not realising he was walking straight into the door frame.
Panaro shoved through the Meriks.
"Back up! BACK UP I SAY!" Panaro hollered-having found his suit jacket-coming down to Karimloo's side.
"Hurts…" He moaned painfully.
Jones came through the crowd, a little more politely going about it.
"These should help ease some pain," He suggested, setting down a glass of water and aspirin tablets.
Crawford stepped through carrying a blanket, unfolding it he wrapped it around Karimloo's shoulders. Panaro wrapped the blanket betterly over the moaning man while trying to feed him the aspirin.
"What's all this commotion about? I like to take pride in being punctual for a performance." Erik asked, having already cleaned up and well dressed for tonight. His mask was different as well, it hid well what lay beneath it as did the false nose he wore as well.
"He just took a little fall, should be alright in a few minutes," Crawford explained.
"It's alright," Panaro reassured Karimloo, patting the other man's back as he swallowed the aspirin. "You're okay, we have to get up now. There we go."
Erik sighed, "Fine, he seems to be in capable hands. Just make sure you're all ready, we're leaving soon, and I don't indulge in tardiness."
Panaro and Jones helped Karimloo to his feet-the former also holding Karimloo's wig and mask.
Once he had a chance to clean up and recover, Karimloo was able again. Panaro was still very much concerned, insisting he might have a concussion. While this surprisingly compassionate behaviour from the normally ill tempered man was comforting, Karimloo would not miss the opera for anything.
The concierge sighed heavily, it'd been a long shift and she was more than happy that it was almost over. Sometimes she questioned why she kept doing this, much of their clientele were quite unpleasant with her, but with other options few she couldn't exactly just quit.
After tonight's show she would be free to head home and back for another day fresh tomorrow.
Hearing a commotion at the front, she returned to her post. Maybe tonight wouldn't be so…
She paused seeing an unusual sight.
A man was standing patiently on the other side, dressed and groomed immaculately, his mask only just visible if looked at closely. Beside him another man, wearing a half mask and well tailored and pristine suit and bowtie. A similarly dressed group of masked, cloaked men in tow behind them.
"I believe we have a reservation for tonight's performance of 'Faust'. Under the name Erik if you please, mademoiselle." Erik said politely,
"Y-Yes monsieur, of course. Ah one-one moment." She said, checking the seat booking he requested, finding the required seat list under Erik's name. "Uh surname?"
"No other name should be listed, simply Erik. If you please."
He was right, and finding the listed reservation she advised the masked man of his seating arrangement.
"Merci beaucoup," Erik nodded walking toward the doors.
"Much thanks," Crawford said, leading the rest of the Meriks through. "How many times must I say 'no shoving' gentlemen? Let's try to be civilised tonight."
Kerik followed behind, giving the concierge a charmed smirk as he passed.
Cherik happily smiled, "Thank you madam."
Destler barely made eye contact as he passed through.
Lerik didn't say anything but made a meaningful gesture of thanks bowing his head.
Gerik and Mr. Y followed suit, "Much obliged."
And Winslow being the last to enter, nodding as he passed by, not paying mind to her stare.
Wide eyed, she tried to process what she just saw and couldn't help but grin.
She changed her mind. Best. Job. Ever.
The men took their seats, some slight commotion as to who was sitting where was silenced as Erik laid down the law.
"I shall not have any incident occur whilst we're here. Am I clear on the messieurs?" He asked almost rhetorically.
Erik reserved a box seat up in he wings that seemed to have similar acoustics as Box 5 had.
Rather than seated below with the others Crawford, Panaro, Karimloo, and Jones were seated in an adjacent box having made arrangements for their own separate seating.
"Is it wise to leave them down there without any of us present?" Jones asked, somewhat concerned.
"Nothing will happen," Crawford reassured him, "I made quite sure of that"
Below the remaining Meriks were staying true to this and causing little to no ruckus. Kerik and Cherik sat amongst them-Cherik's eyes darting around him somewhat nervously. Gerik and Mr. Y making sure to sit a few seat over from the the half masked group. Destler and Winslow sat together, Lerik also seated nearby, the men eagerly and slightly impatiently waiting for the performance to start.
Finally the crowd was hushed as Act I commenced, introducing Faust to the stage.
Returning to the house that night, the masked men were in heated discussion. Jerik dove back into the trash bin, hearing the commotion of voices as they arrived back home.
"I think it was quite good."
"Good! It was beyond that I'd say! But Siebel was grossly miscast."
"And the choreography!"
"Don't even get me started!"
"Now that's being a little cynical, don't you think?"
"I don't know what you lot are on about, it was quite charming really."
All of them of course having differing opinions, but the majority applauding the opera.
Erik removed the mask as he made his way back downstairs to his solitude. He was thoroughly pleased with it, albeit the performance had some hiccups. But it was satisfying none the less, more specifically Act IV. He only wished he could have heard Christine reprise her role of Marguerite.
His golden eyes narrowed. Christine. His Christine…
It had been some time since he'd made correspondence with his pupil and ingenue, or with anybody. Keep order in the house and completed his latest compositions had been very trying and isolating.
Perhaps he needed a small reprieve from his work.
-Regarding how what looks to be some of Erik's brain matter seems to attribute to his deformity in the 25th anniversary performance, this stirred up the notion that Karimloo's Erik could be sensitive to head trauma.
-Faust is performed in several Phantom adaptations and/or imply a Faust theme in versions such as the original Leroux novel, the 1925 and 1989 films, and Phantom of the Paradise. Only appropriate that's the opera they see.