A/N: This chapter brings us closer to our final resolution (: Erik is finally revealed to the world, and well, in general, is now quite a celebrated composer. Bravo to him!
TierneyMacDonald: I have so much fun describing clothes! I'm glad you liked her dress, too.
marial0789: Hehe thank you.
ANGEL OF BALLET: I'm glad you enjoyed it (:
Lydia the tygeropean: Thank you!
Masked Man 2: Thank you! I was worried about the wedding night- felt a little iffy writing it because I was worried about how it would turn out, but I'm glad it had my intended effect!
ErikLover2283: Yes you have, haha! I do remember you, though, and thank you (:
E-man-dy-S: You're welcome, I'm glad you enjoyed!
Guest: Ah, I may have made a mistake with the spelling! I'm aware of what it is- I was in a symphonic band and played brass instruments for 4 years before I wrote this story. Back then, we did learn that changing your embrochure does, to a certain extent, affect how in-tune you are, so I wrote based on my experience, I'm not sure if that's accurate or not!
Skyila: I LOVE long reviews (: I do note the errors in my story too when I read back, but it's too troublesome to change it, hehe but I'm glad it's not a big issue to you. And haha your story about the mob re-spawn made me laugh, I know I would be pretty annoyed if my friend left me to kill them myself. I'm glad you like the fresh twists, especially because I've read almost all the fics here up to a certain extent, and I found myself wanting to write something original. Hope you'll stay around for the remaining few chapters!
Guest: Me, too! Thank you! (:
Thank you to new favourites/followers, I really appreciate your support!
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Chapter 62: Revealing The Composer
Paris, 1900
The foyer of the Palais Garnier was filled to the brim with people dressed to the nines. Amidst the crowds, ladies in bejewelled gowns chattered excitedly, holding their lorgnettes in their gloved hands, and men dressed smartly in their best suits milled around the place, enjoying the champagne from trays carried around by servers. The room was filled with an excited and anticipatory buzz, as the opera-goers gossiped about the event of the night. It was an event that many had been waiting for—the mysterious composer of the two volumes of Musique would be making his first public appearance to launch his third book, a book just as mysterious as the composer himself. When asked about the style of the third book, the publishing house had merely stated that it was not to be a third volume of Musique, but would be something entirely new, and had declined to reveal anything else. The event alone was highly mysterious—guests had been invited based on a very exclusive guest list which included the industry's top music connoisseurs, composers, musicians, and a few reporters, and they had not been informed of how the evening would proceed. It was to be a surprise indeed.
Amélie stood in a corner of the foyer, dressed in a deep red dress, surveying the crowd. "There are so many people here tonight," she murmured.
"It is not surprising," said Nadir. "People are curious. They're dying to know who this man is, and they want to see the new book."
"It's surprising," she said, looking at him bemusedly. "Before all his success, Erik was but a shunned leper, unable to step foot into society."
"Partly because of how society views those who are different," Nadir agreed, "but also partly because of Erik's fear of society's reactions. Who knows? Had he stepped out earlier, perhaps he could have succeeded as well. But it matters not, because I am happy that in the end, Erik achieved what he had always wanted."
Amélie smiled. "You have been a good friend to him, Nadir."
"He was a good friend to me first."
Just then, the bell chimed, signalling the start of the event, and guests began to shuffle in, looks of glee on their faces. Nadir held out his arm to escort Amélie, and together they joined the crowd in entering.
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"This feels just like before," Christine remarked, patting her cheeks with a powder puff. "It feels the same as any other performance, in fact. I would be sitting at my dressing table, and you, Angel, you would be around to encourage me and to put away my fears."
"You seem remarkably calm, as compared to the previous times, though," Erik observed. "Perhaps you are confident?"
"My teacher always taught me to be confident," Christine said mischievously. "I am feeling rather jittery, but I am holding it in, for today is your big day, Angel, and nothing can go wrong."
"You know I have faith in you, Christine." Erik shrugged. "Besides, I have enough on my mind to worry about for second part of the event, without having to think about your fears as well."
Christine laughed, a gleam in her eyes. "Angel, you will do fine. I am sure of it."
The bell chimed, and Christine put down her powder puff and stood.
"Well, there it is. I will see you later, Angel." She smiled, and left the room.
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"Ladies and gentlemen," Eugene Reyer said nervously on stage, tugging at his bow tie. "Today we have invited you here to showcase the new book published by the very mysterious composer of Musique. Before his appearance, we would like to enchant you with an evening performance of a few short excerpts from his new book, to tempt your ears and minds. The composer will be playing the piano from behind these curtains while Christine Daae will be singing."
Christine swept onto stage gracefully, dressed in a pure white dress, and the audience clapped with gusto, some of them remembering the angelic voice of the soprano who had taken the opera stage by storm when she had suddenly debuted as the lead soprano in two operas in the previous season. Christine smiled prettily at the audience and curtsied as she readied herself to sing.
From behind the curtain, Erik placed his hands on the keys of the piano and began to play. The notes rolled smoothly from the instrument, flowing languidly one after another, and the audience sat, enthralled by the feast upon their ears. It was not a particularly complicated piece, but its sweet and simple melody tugged upon the heartstrings of the people listening. Christine sang along to the music, of roses and chocolate, of evenings spent together, of happiness and love. They were not lyrics that the audience understood exactly, but they understood the emotion behind the song well enough.
Amélie sat in the audience with tearing eyes, her hands clutching her reticule tightly. She alone knew exactly what the song spoke of, and felt very clearly all the love and emotion Erik had poured into writing the song. Her heart swelled with emotion as she listened, for this was happiness at last.
The small repertoire of songs came to a melodic halt, and the audience erupted in applause. Eugene Reyer took the stage again, clapping along with them.
"And now, as a surprise for the audience who have so graciously given us their time this evening, the composer himself will be performing a song with the lovely Mademoiselle Daae."
"What? What did he just say?"
"The composer?"
"Get this on camera, quickly!"
"This will be a gem for the papers tomorrow!"
Murmurs filled the room, voices tinged with excitement and wonder and anticipation. Amélie raised her eyebrows at Nadir, who shrugged—he had not known of this surprise segment either.
Slowly, torturously, the curtains slid open to reveal the debonair form of Erik, standing slightly in the shadows. He bowed deeply to the audience, and there was a respectful sounding of applause for the composer.
"May I present to you the composer of Musique, Monsieur Erik Chevalier," Eugene Reyer said tremulously and somewhat dramatically. "The man who has kept the musical world on their toes with his music."
Erik gestured to Christine, who curtsied respectfully. He nodded to signal the starting beat, and together the two launched into a duet, complementing each other perfectly. At the end of the song, Christine rushed off stage to receive a large bouquet of flowers, which she presented to Erik.
The audience rose in a standing ovation as Erik finally stepped into the light.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he said stiffly and awkwardly. "Thank you for coming here to join us in the launch of my new book tonight. It has been an honour performing for you."
"We are anxious to see the new book, monsieur!" Someone called out from the room, and the audience laughed.
"Copies of the new book will be available for purchase in the foyer just outside this theatre." Eugene Reyer interjected. "But before we all adjourn for refreshments in the foyer, Monsieur Chevalier will be available to take a few questions."
"What was the source of inspiration for this new book, monsieur? It was published so quickly after Musique II, unlike the long period of time between Musique I & II." One reporter pointed out, getting ready his notepad for Erik's answer.
Erik smiled. "This book was published so quickly because it contained a series of songs that I have been working on since I met the muse of this book. In truth, this means I've spent the longest time on the songs in this book."
"Who is that muse?"
"My wife, Amélie-Rose Chevalier, who is sitting here in this theatre." Erik felt a burst of pride in his chest as he said this and gestured to Amélie. He had never thought that this reality would ever be possible, and the fact that he was living out his dream this very moment was overwhelming.
The audience craned their necks around the hall, trying to spot the elusive Madame Chevalier, and Amélie felt a blush creep up around her neck as she spotted curious eyes staring in her direction. Nadir laughed and nudged her gently even as she scowled back at him.
"You must love your wife very much, Monsieur Chevalier, to write a book dedicated to her." Another reporter smiled and waved his camera. "May we have a photo of the two of you together, please?"
"Very," Erik agreed, the corners of his mouth turned up in a slightly smile. "She makes me a better person."
He held out a hand toward Amélie. "Shall we?"
Amélie flushed an even brighter shade of red as she was egged on by Nadir to stand from her seat and make her way up to the stage where Erik was waiting. Erik gave her hand a small squeeze and a quick kiss on the cheek, which elicited some squeals from the audience.
"You did well," she whispered, squeezing his hand back. "I couldn't be more proud of you."
He merely smiled a bright smile at her, one so dazzling that she almost forgot to smile for the camera. His smiles, which she had once thought so rare, appeared often now.
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"May I propose a toast to Erik?" Eustache held his glass of champagne up tipsily. "To Erik!"
"To Erik," the group chorused, raising their glasses. Erik's ears turned red.
The small group was gathered in Erik and Amélie's new home for the housewarming party which also doubled up as a celebration for the successful launch of Amélie-Rose. The living room had been tastefully made up with cosy furniture in warm autumnal shades, and a fire was crackling peacefully in the fireplace. The curtains were drawn, and bottles of champagne littered the coffee table.
There was Georges and Louis, two of the three violinists who had been the first to ever invite Erik to dinner when he had started his job at the Palais Garnier, and the Reyer brothers, all squeezed onto a large sofa. Erik noted smugly that Audric was sitting rather closely to Meg on a separate divan, and that Antoinette was eyeing the pair with eagle eyes from where she was seated in the rocking chair. Alphonse Belcourt and Nadir were sitting quite comfortably in the two large armchairs. Nadir had been regaling Belcourt with stories of exotic Persia which were the cause of many a loud exclamation of excitement from Belcourt throughout the evening as he got more and more inebriated. Christine and Raoul sat together on chairs brought in from the dining room, their fingers linked. Amélie had begrudgingly allowed Raoul to come after Erik's insistence; she had apparently not forgotten all that he had done in the past. To Raoul's merit, he had turned out to be a rather agreeable young man with a love for music, after he had put aside the initial hatred for Erik, and Erik regretted that the circumstances had turned the young man against him from the start.
And Erik himself sat in a cosy brown leather sofa with Amélie snugly ensconced next to him, her feet curled up comfortably beneath her, her head resting on his shoulder and one hand held tightly in his. He held a glass of champagne in his free hand, contemplating the bubbles in it pensively.
It was a lovely picture to behold.
These were his friends and family, happily tucked away in the living room of his house. If he had even thought of this as a possibility as a child, he would have laughed at himself for being ridiculous, and tucked that little picture away as a daydream, something meant only for his imagination. And yet here he was, sitting in a house he had bought himself, surrounded by people who had accepted him for who he was, and even loved him.
There was a contented silence in the room as the hour grew late and the visitors poured themselves more champagne from the last dregs in the bottles.
"It's getting late, Meg," Antoinette said sharply, eyeing Audric sternly. He flushed red and blustered.
"Yes, of course, we should be leaving soon, shouldn't we, boys?" He gestured at Georges and Louis, who nodded and finished off their champagne.
"Thank you for having us over, monsieur," Audric said, standing to shake Erik's hand courteously. "It was a wonderful performance, and we enjoyed visiting your lovely home."
"It's Erik," Erik said, raising his eyebrows, "as I have said many times over, Audric."
"Yes, monsieur—Erik." Audric coughed out awkwardly, and Amélie laughed.
"Thank you for coming," she said warmly, bringing their coats over. "You have made his day, even though he refuses to admit it."
"Amélie," Erik said warningly, his turn to flush bright red. Amélie merely laughed.
"I'll give you boys a ride back, it's too late to be trying to get a carriage now," Belcourt slurred, standing unsteadily and looking around for his coat.
"Are you sure you can drive, monsieur?" Amélie asked worriedly, looking out of the window at Belcourt's new car. The automobiles were a relatively new invention, and Belcourt did not look in any condition to manoeuvre the vehicle.
Belcourt waved a hand dismissively. "No worries, my good lady. My chauffeur should be waiting just around the corner for me; he likes to smoke his cigars while waiting. He will bring us back safely. Come on, boys." He collected his coat, pumped Erik's hand heartily and clapped him on his back, before bowing to Amélie. He tottered out of the room, helped along by Georges.
Christine and Raoul were next to leave in Raoul's carriage, along with the Reyer brothers, who had accepted Raoul's offer of sending them back home in his carriage.
Raoul paused at the door to shake Erik's hand. "Thank you for a wonderful evening."
"I am glad you were able to make it, monsieur le vicomte."
"You are a good man, Chevalier, better than I could ever be," Raoul told him while patting him on the arm emphatically. Erik laughed.
"You are drunk, monsieur. Good night to you."
Christine rolled her eyes at Raoul's antics and smiled prettily at Amélie and Erik. "Thank you for having us here today. I felt truly happy to be on the stage again."
"You sang wonderfully," Amélie told her sincerely. "It was a joy."
"You will be on stage again soon enough," Erik promised Christine, "without any of my shenanigans this time."
Christine laughed, and left the house. The Reyer brothers exited arm in arm, humming tunes jovially under their breath, their faces red. Erik smothered a laugh at the sight of the two of them, usually so restrained and quiet.
"You'll have a large bonus this year, Erik!" Eugene Reyer called out loudly as he walked down the driveway. "Please compose at a faster rate!"
Amélie giggled as she stood next to Erik, watching them leave. Erik laughed, and shut the door, locking it.
"Come on, I'll show you up to the spare room," Amélie said to Meg and Madame Giry. "You'll be quite comfortable there. Nadir, Erik will show you to the other spare room."
Meg linked her arm through Amélie's. "You have such a darling house, Amélie."
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After their guests had been settled in, Erik and Amélie met again in their bedroom. Amélie sat at the dressing table, pushing a brush through her thick russet hair. Erik entered the room, smiling wearily at her. It had been a long day.
He crossed over, and took the brush from her. He methodically smoothed the brush through her hair gently and meticulously, and she flexed her shoulders in pleasure.
"You should rest, Erik. It has been tiring for you today."
He smiled and kissed the top of her head. "Even so. I am happy."
She laughed, and stood, kissing him fully on the mouth. "Now off with that mask and to bed."
"As my lady wife commands," he said dramatically, and Amélie laughed again.
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A/N: Three more chapters! How times flies! Do leave a review to let me know what you think/fav/follow. xx hazel