PLEASE READ: So I've already made a disclaimer about this but given what happens in this chapter I'm going to repeat it to avoid confusion. While the Meriks and Christine's are being referred to by their actors/actresses first or last names this is NOT in any way being implied these are the real life actors being written about. While some actor allusion is played with throughout the story this is NOT meant to be written about real life people. So any shipping in this story that involves Christines' and/or Meriks is strictly fictional and only regarding their PotO personas.
Jones paced uncomfortably back and forth, "Are you sure this is a good idea? This feels like a bad idea."
Meanwhile Crawford was in the process of dethorning rose stems, having freshly picked them. Despite Cherik being the caretaker of rose garden he'd grown on the roof-with Erik's approval of course-many of the residents tended to pick a few flowers here and there. Mauer had been up on the roof a few days ago plucking some for Elizabeth.
"Yes, I'm quite sure." Crawford nodded
"But I'm not like you, I don't have such authority over the others or respect like they do for you." Jones shook his head.
Patting his friend on the shoulder, the older Merik chuckled.
"Nonsense, you'll do just fine. Besides I'll only be away for two nights, and if you must you know how to reach me."
Crawford didn't like the strange little contraption the others insisted he get, but they insisted his previous phone was quote 'A prehistoric relic'. He hadn't quite grasped the concept of half the 'apps' on this thing.
After the mishap in the pool a week ago, the older Merik felt it was high time for a break. He hated losing his temper, and concluded a dosage of too much stress was to blame.
Sarah was free when he'd contacted her and like that had an overnight bag and a bouquet of vibrant red roses.
As the Meriks exited the roof heading down to the main floor, Jones was a bundle of nerves. It was one weekend sure, but alot could happen in one weekend.
Adjusting his cloak and fedora, Crawford sighed.
"Please my friend, you'll do just fine while I'm away." He smiled at Jones, "I trust you."
Jones watched Crawford depart, heaving a heavy exhale. "I do hope you're right."
"How about this one?" Cherik asked, handing Karimloo another mask. Since his was broken, Cherik was more than happy to offer some help.
Karimloo tried another on, it felt a little tight around his face and nose-The West End man being unaccustomed to wearing a full mask. Aside from the the black lines drooping down from the eye piece, it was the best option.
Elsewhere on the second floor Panaro was working on a little project of his own.
He just hoped his craftsmanship wasn't too shoddy.
Gerik opened his door, creeping downstairs. All was silent on the second floor, almost deftly silent. In an attempt to avoid a fuss from the Meriks, Jones had taken the sea of porcelain masks to a new production of 'Magic Flute' being performed at the opera.
Not just the Meriks, a majority of the residents were absent.
Normally Gerik would see what Mr. Y was up to, but the older man was out today enjoying a visit with his son to a local fair that was in town.
Destler-and astonishingly-Winslow had left together earlier, the latter rarely leaving the house.
Cherik was still around but was tending to the rooftop garden. Between the roses and the assorted taxidermy creatures he'd placed up there it'd become a new dreamery of sorts.
Taking full advantage of the quiet and solidarity, Gerik made his way down to the parlour room on the main floor. He sighed happily getting the chance to play.
Though he didn't have very long to sing.
"No stop STOP," Gerik flinched realising he wasn't alone. But he was surprised to see Erik standing behind him. "Just what was THAT?"
"I was just doing a warm up," Gerik said.
Behind the black mask, Gerik could see Erik's piercing golden eyes widen in disbelief.
"A warm up? My God…" Erik shook his head. "You can't continue, not like that at least."
Gerik hung his head shamefully and got up to make his leave, only to be blocked by Erik's long, skeletal hand.
"And just where do you think you're going? I didn't say leave." Erik sighed.
Gerik blinked confused. "I just-?"
Suddenly he felt Erik grasp his wrist, tugging him along as he turned toward the basement.
"Wait! Where are we going?" The film adapted man asked.
"If you're going to wear the mask and stay in my home, you need a half decent voice. But I'll be damned if it's only half of it's potential."
Erik had forgotten just how delightful teaching was. And if he could turn Christine's screeching into that of a graceful songbird, he could certainly retune Gerik's poor tenor.
It was the start of a strange partnership.
So for Friday night came and went and they were into Saturday. Jones was feeling at ease, the opera went splendidly last night. Granted Carpenter and Cudia made him nervous staring up at the chandelier every so often. But the crystal light fixture went untouched and the Meriks thoroughly enthralled.
Maybe things would be ok after all.
Jones was reading the L'Epoque that morning when he heard the first warning sign of trouble.
"What's that you have there?" Kerik inquired, snatching the open box Panaro held.
"Hey!" The Merik scowled
The novelised man seemed to scrutinise whatever it was before tossing back the box. "Not bad. I mean not up to my level but not bad."
"What's that suppose to mean?" Panaro snapped, "I'll have you know I've been working hard on this!"
"Not enough it seems." Kerik chuckled before turning his back to him, only the just miss an object woosh past him.
Judging by the pattern and breadcrumbs the shattered remnants were Panaro's breakfast plate.
Kerik made an about turn.
"Did you just throw a plate at me?" He scowled yellow eyes at Panaro.
"Quite the unseen genius you are!" The Merik bit back.
Kerik held a glass in his hands and gave it a toss, also missing his target.
Jones folded up his paper. 'Uh oh'
"Now gentlemen. Let's wrap things up before things-"
A whoosh of fire came next.
"-Worse."
Crawford smiled listening to Sarah sing. She had been working on several new arias, and his reprieve from the others seemed like an ideal time to practice.
"Bravisimi my darling! That was wonderful," He praised.
"You really think so?" The brunette asked.
"My dear, I would not give you false hope. Our past lessons have quite clearly paid off."
Sarah smiled sweetly up at him with a light peck on the cheek of his mask.
They then heard a whistle from a separate room.
The curly haired brunette stood, "That'll be the tea."
As Sarah went off to check on the kettle, Crawford took a moment to check the phone. No messages since last night about the trip to the opera.
While the older Merik had much faith in Jones, he was concerned seeing no new update.
Punching in Jones number he hit dial.
"Hello?" Jones sounded a little tense. But then again, he usually sounded like that.
"Just checking in. So, how are things?" Crawford asked.
"O-Oh! Fine! Yes, everything is fine,"
The older Merik raised a brow hearing the sound of garbled French and Persian swearing in the background.
"You're sure?" He asked as Sarah came back with two steaming cups of tea.
"Oh yes yes! Hey now, stop that!"
And then the sound of shattered glass.
"What was that?" Crawford asked.
Jones sounded a little more uneasy, "Oh that! I was clumsy, dropped my glass in all the commotion! WELL I MEAN! Not commotion! I uh…."
"I'm feeling a little better now if you need me back."
"No no! Enjoy the rest! I have it all. UNDER. CON- WAIT, SEE HERE NOW! I'll call you later, got to go!"
The older Merik set the device down as the call ended.
"Is everything alright?" Sarah asked.
Crawford sighed, "At this point I'm honestly afraid to find out."
She pouted, "Do you have to go back?"
He shook his head, "It sounded a little…off putting what I heard but nothing Jones can't handle for a day. He's a decent man, if he were in imminent trouble he would tell me."
The brunette leaned back, resting her head on the Merik's shoulder, "Alright."
–
In the meantime however, Jones had thought he had everything under control once he took away Panaro staff and had some help keeping he and Kerik separated.
He knocked on Panaro's door.
"What?" He could practically feel the Broadway man's scowl as he opened the door.
Jones cleared his throat, holding out a box. "You left this on the couch."
Panaro's eyes wide immediately yanked the box from Jones outstretched hands.
"Do you, do you think it's good?" He asked.
Jones smiled kindly, "I'm sure he'll love it."
"What? How did you know-?"
The slightly older Merik chuckled, "He has a particular facial structure, what with the cheekbones he has. Don't let what Kerik said get the better of you."
Panaro sighed, "Fine. Thank you for returning this."
Jones left Panaro to his solitude and sighed.
Just one little setback and he fixed. He was doing just fine. And everything was just fi-
And that all came crashing down seeing Harley and Gerik tumble down the stairs toward the main floor-being kicked down by a rather rage induced party of six.
"Oh not again! Jones groaned. "What is all this about now?"
He tried to ask but the Meriks seemed too intuned to kicking the men whilst they were down.
"Sadly I know how this came about," Mr. Y said regretfully, going on to explain why the outcasted Phantoms were receiving such a swift beating.
It wasn't Gerik or Y's intent to join Harley's little scheme this week. Ever since what happened at the pool, the what could have been Merik was plotting out more plans against Crawford and any way to make a fool out of him.
None of these plans going anywhere. At least he thought one might work once he'd heard the older Merik would be away.
"I'm not doing it," Gerik said bluntly. "I'm not risking another throat punch now."
Harley scoffed, "Come now, I just need a lookout is all!"
"While you destroy the room of someone who stands at 5'10 and had ME in a chokehold?" Y asked flatly.
"I didn't say destroy it, just a little…..redecorating."
Gerik shook his head, "Forget it. I'm done with revenge schemes I don't even play a part in."
Harley smirked behind the metallic mask, pulling something out of his breast pocket. "Not even for these?"
Gerik glanced up at him and gasped.
In his gloved hand Harley held out for him photographs. More specifically snap shots of a certain Merik whom enjoyed lifting at the gym.
Gerik snatched up the Karimloo photos, from the angles he could clearly tell the Merik hadn't outright posed or known there was a camera nearby.
"How did you?" Gerik asked somewhat dumbfounded.
Harley shook his head, "Not important. So, you help me trash the old man's room and I let you keep the photos. Deal?"
Y shook his head, "You're going to get yourselves hurt."
Harley scowled, "Thanks dad, now come on Gerik it's a fair trade!"
Gerik sighed, feeling Y's disapproving glance, "Deal. But only a lookout! If I see one of those masked madmen coming I had nothing to do with this."
But neither man was successful with either plan.
Harley only had a solid two minutes and six seconds in Crawford's room after picking the lock before he and Gerik were jumped from behind yet again.
"I just followed them to make sure they wouldn't get into trouble." Y exclaimed trying to help Jones pull Mauer off Gerik.
"And it didn't occur to you to tell me of this plan?!"
"For all I knew you were as insane as the others!"
–
It took far too long to subdue them but at least Y helped Jones fend off the Meriks.
Jones tired and feeling his breath hitched and uneasy glanced at his pocketwatch.
It was just passed four. Still a whole night to go. Part of him desperately wanted to call Crawford back and plead for help. But he saw what sort of stress the older Merik went through each day, he deserved at least a short period of R&R.
But how was he to tame the others for one more night until morning? Jones was not a drunkard by any means but he would strangle a stagehand for a drink right about now.
Then the thought occurred to him.
He knew Destler had enough spirits in his room to intoxicate a tavern of sailors.
Jones had one idea, it could surely be either brilliant or backfire horribly.
But he decided to take that chance.
–
Gerik's assault wasn't anywhere near as bad as last time, he had escaped with a few bruises but nothing that wouldn't fade away by tomorrow.
He decided to play it safe and stay upstairs. Though when he started hearing music blare from the second floor, it peaked his interest.
More specifically because this music was not the monotone sad groans of a pipe organ or screeches of a violin. It was a bit more…eccentric.
Creaking the Meriks door open Gerik found the cause to be a small sound system rewired to work as a router for a karaoke machine-never mind who karaoke machine it was or where it came from.
Many of the Meriks were there out in the parlor hooting and hollering like young men out at the town.
Karimloo was laughing with them, holding his mic dominantly, an arm around Panaro holding another microphone.
Wilkinson blinked surveying the scene, turning to Jones
"You got them drunk?!"
Jones scratched the back of his head, "Well it's distracting them right?"
"And making a mess of the parlour," He retorted.
True, while the Meriks were highly inebriated they weren't causing too much trouble. While anyone else would be worried about a noise complaint the only one had was Lerik beating a broom handle on the ceiling as Panaro and Karimloo sang 'My Prerogative'.
"Another! Another!" Karrie jeered.
"Well?" Karimloo asked Panaro.
The Broadway man felt his face go warm, "Well I actually had something prepared."
Stepping forward to change the track-and accidentally spilling his glass while doing so-Panaro cleared his throat gazing back at Karimloo.
It only takes a moment
For your eyes to meet and then
Your heart knows in a moment
You will never be alone again
Perhaps it was the wine triggering his boldness stepping closer to the West End man.
I held you for an instant
But my arms felt sure and strong
It only takes a moment
To be loved a whole life long…
The whole room seemed to fall silent when Panaro pulled Karimloo by his loosened bowtie and felt his malformed lips against his own.
Pulling away Panaro's eyes widened, seeming to just now realise what he'd done. Before Karimloo-whom was just as dumbstruck-could say anything, the Broadway man took off.
"Why? Why did I go and do that?" Panaro mumbled woefully to himself, locked up in his room. "I'm such a fool…"
A short time later he heard a soft knock on his door.
"Go away!" Panaro grumbled.
"It's me," His head lifted up hearing Karimloo's velvety voice.
Slightly hesitant, Panaro opened the door revealing Karimloo at the door.
"About earlier," The Broadway man sighed, "You don't need to worry about it. It was a mistake, I've had alcohol and I just-"
But he was silenced when he felt Karimloo pull him to him by the shoulders, kissing him back. Panaro felt his eyes flutter closed unintentionally leaning in closer.
Both seemed frozen in place before Karimloo pulled away, "I hope you still don't think it was a mistake."
Holding something out for Panaro, the latter gently accepted the offered rose.
"I went up to the garden after you left, that's why it took me awhile."
"T-Thank you…" And then Panaro remembered, "Oh, I actually have something for you!"
Opening his nightstand drawer he pulled out a black box handing it to Karimloo.
He opened it and felt his lips curve in a smile. In his hands he held a new mask, he already knew it was handcrafted.
"I lined it as well, so it shouldn't scratch at your face as the other one did." He lifted a hand to the full mask on Karimloo's face, "May I?"
He nodded, shutting his eyes as the mask was pulled away.
Karimloo felt Panaro's digits roam along the ridges and twisted flesh of his deformed half. And then he felt the mask gently pressed in place like a perfectly aligned puzzle piece.
Karimloo's dark eyes opened and found himself smiling, "Thank you."
Pulling Panaro close once more they shared another kiss.
"Do I get to hear the rest of the song?" Karimloo mumbled against his lips.
"Of course…"
Taking Karimloo's broad hands in his, Panaro cleared his throat.
I've heard it said, that love must grow
That to be sure, you must be slow
I saw you smile, and now I know
That smile made me trust my heart
Panaro's eyes beamed, singing as Karimloo gazed back at him. Karimloo joined his companion, creating a duet.
For it only takes a moment,
For your eyes to meet, and then.
Your heart knows, in a moment.
You will never be alone again
I held you for an instant,
But my arms felt sure and strong
It only takes a moment,
To be loved a whole life long
Their arms went around the other, the Merik's just inches away.
And that is all that love's about
And we'll recall when time runs out
That it only took a moment
To be loved a whole life long
Unbeknown to either of them, a nosy Gerik was peaking through the doorway, hearing and seeing everything as he could feel his heart shattering. The film adapted man knew from the way Panaro kept looking at the West End man that it was only a matter of time before they would be together.
Yet again Gerik found himself pining for someone already taken.
Heartbroken and slightly tipsy-the other Meriks were so intoxicated they barely registered his foreign forbidden presence on their floor-Gerik staggered away to make his leave. Only to be intercepted by Kerik's hooked arm.
"Tut tut, not a wise idea to see you here," The novelised man grinned like a Cheshire Cat. "But I shouldn't be surprised you'd be spying since seeing your face go red as a tomato at the pool party."
"Leave me be," Gerik mumbled woefully.
"Come now, no reason you can't stick around a little longer, have a bit more fun." Kerik said, a hand rubbing along Gerik's broad shoulder. The man couldn't sing his way out of a paper bag, but he was physically well developed. "Might take your mind off the Broadway bread boy down the hall. Just a night?"
Gerik barely registered they'd entered Kerik's room until the door shut behind them.
Crawford awoke early on Sunday to an annoying repetitive beep.
He sat up, noticing Sarah was blissfully sound asleep. He glanced around noticing the infernal black rectangle called a phone was flashing. Picking it up the older Merik was wide eyed to see several missed calls.
"Oh my…" He mumbled, noticing one message in particular.
ERIK: Home now, urgent.
Mismatch eyes wide, he stood dressing promptly and quietly gathering his belongings. Leaving a note of apology for Sarah, Crawford adorned his cloak and fedora, making his way back to the house.
When the Merik arrived he was surprised to see Erik sitting patiently in the main parlour, hands clasped together.
"Ah good, you're finally here," Though the Merik could hear a slight edge of annoyance. "While I understand your boys can be more than a handful I think it's best you not leave the House for so long."
"So long? What's happened? I was only gone two days!" Crawford was suffice to say surprised. Sure he expected a few hiccups, but how bad could it be?
"Why don't I show you?" Erik mumbled behind the black mask as they walked up the second floor.
"Sweet music's throne, what the bloody hell happened?" Crawford gaped.
Their parlour looked like a tornado had come through it. There was broken glass, some pieces of furniture flipped-though his heart calmed when he saw the organ was thankfully untouched-he could even see scorch marks on the wall. There were a few Meriks still present-passed out but present-a few clutching empty wine bottles to themselves.
Erik wanted to be angry (and when he discovered this he most certainly was), but seeing the shock and confusion on Crawford's face-well half of it-made him feel some pity. Some.
"Where's Jones?" The older Merik asked fearfully, to which Erik pointing a finger to the other side of the room, where it looked as though Jones was asleep. His suit a mess, and his wig untamed and wild.
"The poor fellow was close to going up the wall trying to tame this. Apparently there was a dispute between three of them wanting to sing the same song or some similar ridiculous notion."
Crawford sighed, "I can't carry him, help me with his legs?"
Erik and the older Merik lifted Jones up and carried him down the hall to his room, so as he was more comfortable than on the floor. Unfolding a nearby blanket, Crawford draped it over Jones, trying to slick the wig back so as it was more manageable. Plucking Jones earphones off the adjacent table he placed them in the unconscious Merik's ears before making his leave.
Closing Jones door behind them, Erik asked, "Just what do you plan to do about this?"
Crawford's mismatch eyes narrowed, "What I must."
In a loud booming tone that the entirety of their floor could hear, Crawford shouted.
"ALL OF YOU, IN THE PARLOUR. RIGHT NOW OR SO HELP ME I WILL DRAG YOU LOT OUT HERE."
All at once doors flew open, Meriks half asleep and still dressed in dishevelled suits came barrelling out hearing that familiar authoritative voice. Crawford's brow rose, noting Karimloo and Panaro exited together out of the latter's room.
Kerik calmly stepped out of his room yawning, "Could you be any louder?"
The novelised man walking passed Crawford so as to go downstairs, only to be yanked back by his wrinkled shirt collar.
"Not so fast." Crawford said.
"Oi, let go of me old man! I'm not even one of you guys!" Kerik grumbled, but the older Merik just dragged him with him to the parlor.
"No but I have a strong feeling you had something to do with this mess,"
As Crawford began giving the Meriks an ear full no one seemed to notice Gerik, whom was half dressed and his wig discarded tip toe out of Kerik's room and up the stairwell towards his floor.
-In this case Mauer also gets his Christine, whom in this case is Elizabeth Southard's whom he co stared with and as in r/l he is currently happily married to with two children.
-More like Era rather than Actor Allusion I'm using here. Crawford's Merik originated during his run in the 1980′s of Phantom making his Merik a little clueless of present 2010+ technology. So yes, the Meriks made him get a smartphone.
-The mask Karimloo borrows is the clown mask Cherik wears over his own mask in his adaptation, I believe in part two of the miniseries movie.
-Yes Panaro was shooting fireballs at Kerik with the skull staff from the 'Bravo Monsieur!' mausoleum scene in the ALW musical
-In the original novel Christine's voice was not always good and rather screechy and flat before Erik started teaching her.
-The song Panaro sings is "It Only Takes a Moment" From Hello Dolly! as Hugh Panaro has sung this song for the album "Tap Your Troubles Away! The Words and Music of Jerry Herman"
-I should hope everyone's well aware of the "Hugh Panera Bread" joke, if not see the poto tag on tumblr