300 was so breathtaking to watch! I saw it three times this weekend; and I think I could see it another three times at least. Visually stunning and artistically brutal - I have never seen anything like it! GERRY was absolutely perfect!!
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Enjoy!
DARK SIDE OF THE GLASS
CHAPTER 7
May 1, 1874 – LondonEngland
The performance was a moving one; finding words to describe the innate beauty of it was difficult.
As she finished the last line of the last song, Tarrah knew she had done the best she had ever done; and afterwards, the audience bombarded her with flowers and small trinkets of appreciation.
Hammond pulled her in for a huge hug, almost swallowing her within his bulk. She felt a kinship with the man that could be described as family…he was like a proud uncle. His Irish heritage just added to that illusion and Tarrah cared a great deal about him.
"You did a tremendous job, Tarrah…I should have never doubted you."
She wrapped her young arms around him, as best she could, and returned his embrace.
"Thank you, Hammond, but it is Erik who deserves the praise. Without his constant haggling and expert instruction, I would still be making a pitiful living on the streets of Ireland."
Hammond laughed, his round belly shaking like Saint Nicholas, and hugged her even harder.
"Yes, Erik was quite a find…although it was he who found me."
Tarrah let him fight the crowds off as she made her way toward her dressing room. She was anxious to get out of these confining clothes and into the more practical clothes that Erik had bought her.
"Where is he, anyway?" She asked.
"He was sidetracked after the curtain call, many wanted to congratulate him and I think there were even a couple of reporters that wanted to interview him."
Tarrah smiled with a bit of a chuckle, knowing that Erik was doing all he could to avoid drawing any attention to himself.
"Perhaps I should go rescue him."
Hammond watched the exhausted girl head off in the direction of the main lobby, in search of the man to whom she owed her life.
She found him, looking like a cornered panther, trying to avoid the questions that were being hurled at him from every direction.
"Gentlemen, Monsieur Lacroix is very tired and his time is precious – please schedule an appointment through the theater's public liaison if you would like an interview."
All eyes turned to the beautiful, young diva as she took command of the situation.
"Miss Sheldon, is it true that he has been appointed your guardian…or is there more to your relationship than that?"
She smiled, trying to hide her annoyance, but her eyes were daggers of intolerance as she steeled them on the man who had spoken.
"Monsieur Lacroix has been appointed my guardian; but, more importantly, he is like a brother to me….does that satisfy your curiosity?"
"So he remains unmarried?"
"As of right now, yes."
"The female patrons of the opera are interested in knowing more about him; he is undoubtedly wealthy and incredibly gifted – all of England knows about the deformity he covers with the mask – but they want to know more."
Erik had managed to slink into the shadows and was watching Tarrah handle the pressure of their questions on his behalf…she really was a godsend.
Why on earth do they want to know more about me? Erik asked himself.
People never ceased to amaze him with their over zealous sense of curiosity.
"I am sorry gentlemen, I have answered enough questions concerning Monsieur Lacroix for now, his story is his own and he will tell it when he is ready...good evening."
Tarrah had given her own story several times, and Erik's role in her life had always been a part of her story…she was not a mystery to the people of Great Britain, but Erik was.
Without meaning to, Erik had become a public enigma; an eccentric genius who barely spoke to anyone outside the opera house and seldom allowed anyone close to him.
His behavior just made him that much more of a mystery and he soon became one of the most eligible bachelors in all of England; not that this mattered to him. He knew that no woman would take a serious interest in him, so he thought nothing of it.
"Are you the former Phantom of the Opera?"
A brave young lad had raised his voice above the others and his question pierced the ears of everyone listening.
Erik stopped abruptly and turned to see the young man that asked the question.
Steely green eyes narrowed in infuriation as Erik looked at the boy much the way a dark, dangerous bird watches its prey.
"Are you, monsieur – and if you are, how does it feel to finally be cleared of the charges that were against you?"
Tarrah felt her heart beat furiously in her chest, she couldn't answer this one, Erik had to take control now, or never be able to face the public again.
"I have found, in my vast experience of watching and listening to people, that they will believe whatever they want, regardless of what I say or do to the contrary." Erik smiled this time, fully showing the handsome and charming man that he could be, "You have already determined in your mind that I am who you say I am…therefore, anything I say will only solidify your belief."
He turned around and began walking away from them with Tarrah by his side. He stopped again, turned and caught the eye of the young man – one more time.
"It is great to be cleared of charges, but the worst was being accused in the first place…good night."
Erik knew that he was virtually admitting to having been the Phantom, but it was no secret among the theater goers, the staff, crew, and cast that he matched all the descriptions of the Phantom and just about everyone was intrigued by this.
"You have really done it now, Erik…they will be wanting more from you."
Erik smirked down into the lovely face of Tarrah. He took her hands in his and planted a kiss to the top of her knuckles.
"They will only get what I am willing to give…and I am an expert at avoiding people and situations that I have no desire to find myself in." He continued to walk out the side door of the theater and head down the sidewalk.
"Where are you going?"
He offered his arm and a sideways smirk.
"I am going to walk home, care to join me?"
♠♣♥♦
They walked through the May mist, enjoying the coolness of the Spring evening and each other's company.
Tarrah felt safe and secure in Erik's strength and wondered if the man had fears. He always seemed rather aloof toward most people, but she had never seen him fear anyone or anything – other than becoming her guardian.
"Are you happy, Erik?"
She asked the question before she really had a chance to think about it. He never seemed truly happy about anything.
He continued to walk, his gloved hands clasped behind his back and a thoughtful expression on his face.
He glanced at her, not sure if she expected an answer or not, but saw that she awaited his reply with a wrinkled brow and curious eyes.
"Happiness is not a state I strive for, Tarrah, it would require many things I shall never have."
"You seem completely resolved to that…why?"
Her question was innocent enough, but Erik cringed at having to answer; there was so much about him that she did not know; and he wanted to keep it that way.
He stopped walking and turned toward her. His intense, solemn eyes bore into her with the flickering embers of the moon reflected in their dark depths.
"Will you trust me when I say that your presence in my life has brought me as close as I have ever been to happiness?"
She smiled, and then dropped her eyes and looked away from him.
"Have you ever loved anyone…I mean…." She looked up and stared straight in to his face, looking him deep in the eyes, "…in a romantic way."
She could tell that she had broached a sensitive subject. His shoulders stiffened and his chin lifted in defiance, casting a shadow over his features that hid his eyes.
"Why do you ask these questions?"
His tone was curt, but he did not want to talk about his love life…it was painfully lacking and this was obvious to him.
"Because I want to know…and because I love you like a brother."
A slight smile gradually formed and he relaxed slightly, allowing her to see the softer side of him that had recently begun to surface more often.
"I loved once…a couple of years ago."
He was gone again, lost in the past; Tarrah had seen that look on his face many times over the last year.
"What happened?"
He turned from her and started walking again, headed toward the center of town and the large apartment he shared with Tarrah and the housekeeper, Mrs. McGhee. Tarrah stood her ground for a few moments and then quickly caught up to him.
She touched his arm gently, causing him to turn toward her.
"What happened, Erik?"
His voice was low and troubled, but still so beautiful.
"She loved another."
She said nothing in response, but continued to watch him as he pushed back memories he did not desire to remember.
"I can look back on it now and find humor in my idiocy…" he scoffed and shook his head slightly, "…she was being courted by a handsome, young aristocrat." He finally looked Tarrah in the eye and smiled sadly, "What chance did I have?"
It was no use arguing with him. He considered himself ugly beyond words, despite what Tarrah told him. However, just because he had never heeded her words in the past, did not stop her from saying them again.
Erik, on the other hand, anticipated her thoughts and spoke first.
"Before you say anything….she was only sixteen when I was pursuing her…the same age as you are….I was thirty…" He had hoped for a shocked reaction, but he did not get one. "…what do you think now?"
Tarrah had him, and she knew it.
"When I first saw you, I thought you were the most handsome man I had ever seen…I knew you were older than me…but that does not keep a girl from getting a crush."
Tarrah did not hesitate to tell him this…she should have made her feelings known to him long ago.
Erik, however, was stunned. He took a couple of steps back from her; he couldn't believe what she said.
"Day after day, I stood at your side – learning from you…my awakening woman's heart yearning for you – but I knew you did not look at me that way; you always called me child and wee one."
Erik finally chuckled, remembering the awkward weeks he spent trying to adjust to Tarrah's constant invasion on his life.
"You became my best friend – my protector. Now you are my big brother."
He smiled at her and initiated a rare show of his affection by hugging her.
"Why weren't you afraid of me…like all the others have been?"
He pulled back and looked down at her impish features.
"Why would I have been afraid…your mask?" he nodded his head lightly, but she stopped it with a warm hand to his perfect, unmarred cheek, "… all it did was make you that much more mysterious and handsome…I eventually found out why you wore it and it made no difference."
She grinned and planted a kiss on his left cheek. When she pulled back, she winked at him and backed away.
"Besides, the right woman will not care if you have a flawed cheek…I have seen you without a shirt!"
His jaw dropped and his eyes went dark.
"What!" he bellowed, shock written all over his face.
She ran from him, giggling like a water nymph and Erik could do nothing but yell after her fading figure.
"You are going to explain yourself, young lady!"
TBC