Chapter 7: A Name At Last

I left the library that night with a slight smirk on my face that stayed with me all the way back to my apartment. I had actually decided to check out the book my new mysterious friend, if I could call him that, had handed me as well as another book on opera singing and its history. I realized they wouldn't be that helpful for my impending audition, but hopefully they would be interesting and put me into an operatic-mood.

I decided to walk home instead of taking the subway. There wasn't a close T-stop near my apartment anyway, so either way I chose, I would have had to do some walking. The night was very mild and clear, the perfect sort of evening to walk and think.

I thought about the two books riding in my bag, and thought more about the masked man in the library. It felt weird thinking about him as "the masked man," but what else could I really call him? I didn't know his name, where he was from, or what he was doing so late at the library for the past two nights.

The first time I saw him, he hadn't really been reading, just watching me. Of course, I had been making a fool out of myself, so no shock there. I probably would have stared at a girl dancing through the stacks, too. But the second time, that very night, he had come to me, gone out of his way to give me a book. A book on opera arias. How had he known I was auditioning for an opera? Did he know or was it some strange coincidence?

I wasn't sure whether to feel nervous or excited. On one hand, it was almost like he knew me too well. Maybe I was being way too paranoid. Or way too hopeful. He wasn't exactly creepy the way some strange and random men could be. Quite the opposite in fact. There was something about him that was very comforting, even alluring. Certainly alluring enough that he had made me blush so much on both encounters.

I couldn't stop thinking about him!

"You're like a school girl with a crush, Christine," I joked to myself as I rounded the corner on my street. "And just as pathetic!"

Well, there certainly wasn't anything wrong with a little one-sided crush on a stranger. Besides, he seemed to have some sort of interest in me, even though I couldn't quite figure out what it was just yet. Our brief, barely one minute, conversation had certainly boosted my confidence. For the first time all week I wasn't channeling all of my worry on the audition. I almost felt like for once I would succeed. And it was all due to what he said, like he knew what I needed to hear, even if it was only a few short words.

My new, mysterious friend.

"Maybe even a guardian Angel," I mused with a smile.

I was still smiling as I walked into the apartment. Meg was up and in the living room browsing through the channels, trying to find something worth watching on the television.

"Wow, you're actually smiling!" Meg observed, and after a short deliberation asked, "Okay, who's the new guy? Or is it the old guy? Did you just see Randall?" Her attack of questions left me momentarily speechless.

"What? One at a time, Meg. I just got out of work."

"Jobs are a great place to meet guys!" she announced.

"Yes, the good old library, such a hot spot for dating activity. Honestly, I think you need to find your own guy."

"I'm constantly on the look out! Believe me," she said with an impish look in her eyes. "But seriously, who is your new 'he?'"

"What makes you so sure there is a he?" I questioned.

"I know that look on a girl's face. I especially know that look on your face. So don't even lie to me," she smiled with a wicked grin. "Been making out in the stacks? Huh?"

That I had to laugh at.

"No. . . . However, if you must know, yes, I have met a guy, sort of. BUT-- it's not what you think. In fact, I've barely spoken to him at all. Mostly just blushed," I cringed at the memory, then added, "Plus, he disappears quickly. Like, one minute there, the next he's hurried off and is gone."

"So. . . .you're so terrifying, the thought of being around you makes him run away screaming in horror?"

My response to that was to kindly throw a couch pillow at Meg's head.

"He's just sort of. . . very mysterious. But mysterious in a good 'tall-dark-handsome-stranger' sort of way," I paused, thinking to myself. I wondered if I should mention the mask to Meg. She would either think it was terribly interesting, like out of some fantasy, or find it downright creepy and weird, like out of a horror movie.

I did find the mask a little odd myself. But I wasn't stupid or naive. I figured it must be hiding something, scars or burns maybe. I mean, most people didn't walk around with masks covering half their faces for no reason.

I had known a kid briefly in high school who had had surgery on his face to remove a tumor. It left part of his cheek sunken in. He was pretty self conscience about it, and he thought it was way worse than it really was in reality. He later had plastic surgery, so by the time we graduated, he looked no different from anyone else.

I was pretty sure my masked friend was the same-- way too paranoid or self conscience, when it was probably nothing bad at all. Maybe he was just embarrassed or had had a bad experience in the past. It would explain why he was hanging out so late in an almost empty library, away from other people.

Meg brought me back to reality as always.

"Dark, mysterious, and handsome. Sounds perfect! Go for it," she coached me on.

"We'll see. Again, I think in total I've spoken to him for maybe two minutes. Plus, both times were preceded by me acting like an idiot, so he probably just feels sorry for me."

"Hey, well, if you're not interested, I am! I'll be by tomorrow night!" she joked.

"I don't think so. Mystery Man is all mine for the time being. Besides, he seems to not like being around other people. He's always caught me when I'm alone working."

"Hmm...I wonder why he would possibly want to be alone with you," she raised her eyebrow suggestively.

"Right, I'm sure! I don't even know his name yet!" I fired back.

"Perfect! Than your homework is to find that out. It will force you to, you know, actually speak to him. And try not to look like an idiot this time. That always helps."

"Thanks for that wonderful, completely not obvious advice. I'll work on it," I smirked and went to my room for the rest of the night.

Once in my room, I pulled out the opera books, my mind still on the man and his final words to me.

And a singer, if you wanted to be. . . .

Well, it wasn't a question of want, that was for sure.

I opened the book of arias and read the music as best as I could.

"What do you think, mom?" I questioned a silent photograph sitting on my dresser. My mother smiled out at me, frozen in time, in a happier place and moment. "Just think, me-- a ballet-rat turned diva. You're probably rolling in your grave already."

I read the two books for quite a while longer, and finally decided I need rest. I had one more day before the audition, and figured I should get all the rest I needed. As always, my mind drifted as I began to fall asleep. I thought about my parents, the audition, and the masked man and wondered if it was all some sign, like I really had been sent someone to look out after me, my own angel of sorts. It was a comforting thought that carried me off to sleep. . . . . .

When I woke the next morning, it was with renewed energy and confidence. Every morning for the past week I had gotten up feeling sick to my stomach from nerves or stress, probably both. But on Friday morning, things for some reason seemed much better, more positive. It was very cliché, but the sun was shining through my window and it looked like a gorgeous day outside. All I needed were some birds singing on my window sill. However, all I got were city pigeons cooing.

"Eh, close enough," I said with a smile.

I saw the opera books lying on the floor where I had left them the night before, and instantly thought again about the man. Our short encounter the night before was making me still feel great. I had butterflies in my stomach, but they weren't the nervous bad kind. I really hoped I would see him again that night at work, and fortunately that small wish was granted.

I found him sitting in a smaller study room in the older library section. I hardly ever came in here to do my final rounds, but for some reason it didn't really surprise me that he would know to be there, as if he already could tell my schedule.

"Too much work could be unhealthy, Christine," he said to me in his usual nontraditional greeting.

"Good evening," I said to him regardless, with a slight smile. I was determined not to do anything stupid in front of him this time, and responded to his statement. "Working keeps me occupied and not thinking about other things."

He still looked amazing, impeccably dressed and strong. This time it didn't seem like the conversation was going to be rushed, for which I was grateful. I moved closer to him and studied his face a bit more, trying not to be obvious. For the first time in our brief acquaintanceship, I noticed a few small thin scars running near his mouth, and extending up to where the mask began to cover his face. Otherwise his lips were in perfect form.

I looked back up into his eyes and learned they were a magnificent amber color, almost golden. In the dim light of the library, and buried deep back behind his mask, his irises almost appeared to be glowing. I might have been looking too long because his mouth raised into a small smirk and he continued to speak.

"Have you no friends, no. . . . boyfriend to keep you otherwise occupied on a Friday evening?" I wasn't sure how to exactly interpret his statements, but answered nevertheless.

"One extremely overzealous social friend. But. . . . currently no boyfriend. We broke up several weeks ago. Too much drama, and I need to focus on other things," I explained, even though it wasn't really his business. Why was I telling him all this? I still didn't even know his name! Still, for some reason I had just let it come out. And I could tell he was honestly actually listening to me, something Randall, sometimes even Meg, never did.

"How unfortunate," he stated simply, although something in his voice seemed to suggest he didn't really find my circumstances unfortunate at all. Although, neither did I, really. He continued speaking.

"Although, unmarred time is often necessary to devote oneself more fully to another passion."

I shouldn't have been surprised by his incredibly cryptic response, but it still caught me off guard. My face must have shown my utter confusion, because he stood up and wordlessly explained himself by gesturing to the book in my hand.

I looked down and realized I was holding one of the books on opera. I had brought it to work with me to read during my down time sitting at the reference desk and was still carrying it with me through my final rounds.

"Oh, opera, yeah," I said dumbly. Would I ever sound intelligent around this guy? "I guess you sort of inspired me with the other book. Although, I don't think I can sing any of those songs, or will anytime soon," I told him honestly.

"Perhaps you will someday, if you are interested."

"Oh, I am! Well, sort of. I actually have an audition tomorrow. For a dancing position, but I have to sing too," I explained.

"Are you prepared?" he questioned softly.

"I guess. As far as dancing goes, yeah. But. . . . with the singing? I'll be lucky if they don't laugh me off the stage," I chuckled trying to make it sound like less of a deal than it was to me.

In another of his fluid motions, he quickly, but gracefully walked up to me. He was inches away and staring directly into my eyes. I felt my breath catch in my throat, my heart beating in double time, the butterflies flapping their wings as hard as they could in my stomach. The abruptness of his move made me think he was going to strike me, as if I had offended him somehow, but that couldn't have made any sense. Instead he looked at me calmly and spoke so quietly, it was almost a whisper, a slight breath. His voice was low and deliberately slow.

"When you sing. . . . don't think. Just feel, Christine. Clear your mind and sing."

His words were captivating by the mere way he was speaking to me, and the way he said my name was like a soft caress on his tongue. His voice was hypnotizing, and I found myself shutting my eyes. I felt isolated and alone in the world, with just him. I didn't want that moment to be interrupted or end. He spoke to me softly once more giving advice, his words like a song.

"Relax and breathe, from here. Believe that you can do it."

I realized that at some point in his final words he had laid has hand gently on my diaphragm. The touch was unexpected and sent a thrilled shock through my body. At first I didn't know what to say or how to react. Before I could gather my thoughts, he broke his contact with me, ending the spell. I opened my eyes to see him hurrying away again. This time I was not going to let him leave so easily.

"Wait!" I called desperate to stop him. I was surprised when he actually turned around and looked at me with his glowing eyes.

"What is your name?" I asked timidly.

He looked in my direction, but was almost staring through me, as if lost in thought. My strange masked friend seemed to be torn by the very thought of giving me his name.

"Please. . .?" I begged weakly, afraid to upset him. But I had to know.

He gazed into my eyes again and I felt that anxious and nervous, but excited twist in my gut once more.

"Erik," he murmured softly in that beautiful, angelic voice.

I repeated his name to myself in a whisper, and he was gone.

A/N: Another update, this chapter much longer. Yay! In retrospect, I'm not even sure if I liked my last chapter. It was too short... but it's too late, it's up and done. Hindsight is always 20/20. I'm so much more proud/happy with this one.

PLEASE review! I'm not one of those authors who withholds chapters when I don't get reviews, but I do actually take all of them to heart and try to improve/ give you all what you want, based on your comments. It is extremely helpful to me. Also, I'd love to read anyone else's work and review your stuff if you like, just ask.