New chapter! With new characters! Or maybe... ;)

Answers to reviews:

Aria: Yup, Erik is already starting to get protective... Tee-hee.

I do want to show how the Phantom of the Opera actually became the Phantom of the Opera. And show also a lot of other unexplained things... And yes, Madame Giry IS Superman. And Meg is truly her daughter. ;)

Thank you so much for your continuing support, I'm really touched by it! *Virtual hug*

Lydia the tygeropean: Thanks. ;)

Erik's Angel Forever: Thanks! Glad you like little Erik. ;)

ElsaFrozen: Thanks! ;) And who doesn't love Erik/Madame moments?

Geezworld234: Thank you! ;)

Chapter 4

Antoinette kept her promise. As much as she could, to answer to the demands of the avid reader Erik was, she would go regularly to the library, looking out for categories he would ask her for. She was surprised to see the variety of interests the child had, especially at such a young age… Then she would remember the glimmer of intelligence she could always see in his eyes. Erik was more than deeply intelligent. She could only but feel it.

Sometimes, it was about architecture, sometimes, languages, sometimes, oddities. The librarian, now, knew Antoinette quite well and often teased her, asking her if she wanted to become a scholar instead of a ballerina… Antoinette would laugh a bit and shrug. She was just happy that he didn't ask any other questions…

The young ballerina, thankfully, had the delicacy of waiting a while before asking M. Reyer if she could borrow her books, hoping that he would have forgotten about the recent accidents… Meanwhile, Erik had continued playing pranks here and there, despite Antoinette's warnings… Oh well. After all, he was just a little boy who did what every little boy of his age did best: mischief. And somehow, it comforted Antoinette to see that Erik, slowly, was starting to have more of a… normal behavior.

The Roussel girl tried to look as casual as possible as she asked politely M. Reyer if she could borrow some of his books, from time to time… She retained herself from biting her lip when she saw the conductor scratching his head with a embarrassed look, and even more when he said, very gently and politely, that he preferred not…

"But if you want, Mademoiselle, you could ask Professor Valérius, who used to be the conductor, here, and who retired just before you came at the Opera house. His library is much more furnished than mine, and he comes here from time to time… Or no, if you prefer, I'll introduce you to his daughter. I have been told not much later than yesterday that she'll be your piano-player during your ballet practices."

Antoinette, who was of a rather reserved nature, had enough self-control to retain herself from jumping and clapping her hands at the same time. But she thanked M. Reyer with effusion, at a point that the young conductor blushed.

The next day, Clara Valérius was introduced to the ballerinas. She was a girl of sixteen, not much more, doll-like, with a very pale skin, almost too pale, pink cheeks, a little mouth, very big and languishing eyes, and curly blonde hair. Yes, she really reminded Antoinette of a china doll: a china doll you had to hold by the hand delicately or she was to smash on the ground. She was truly beautiful, and for a moment, when she started to play on the piano and that the ballerinas started to dance, Antoinette observed her hands fly over the keys as she played… and for a moment, she wondered who the dancer truly was.

When the practice ended, Antoinette was happy to see that M. Reyer was standing at the ballerinas' practice room door, and that he hadn't forgotten his promise. She remained in a corner, waiting for Mlle Valérius to get out of the room and to encounter the conductor. When it happened, they talked for a moment, and then soon, Antoinette saw that they were looking at her. She lifted up her eyes, towards them, and with a smile, M. Reyer made a gesture to her to come to them.

"Clara, may I introduce to you Antoinette Roussel, the most promising of the new ballerinas?"

"Oh, Monsieur Reyer, please," Antoinette replied, blushing.

"So Léonce has told me you have a certain interest in music and its secrets?" asked Clara Valérius, in a very soft and melodious voice.

"I do," Antoinette answered, trying to look as convinced as possible.

"Well, I must say you will not be the first one who asks Papa for books. There's already a violinist and a cellist who have asked this of him… And now, they come every Saturday night unless there's an opera or a ballet, to talk about music with Papa. Perhaps you will join them one day."

"Maybe," said Antoinette, with a smile as wide as she could make it. Dear… I hope that won't happen.

"If you will excuse me, mesdemoiselles," interrupted M. Reyer, "but I really have to go."

"Oh, but Monsieur, there's absolutely no problem," said Antoinette cheerfully. "And thank you for everything!"

When the conductor walked away, the two girls, slowly, started to descent the corridor, and immediately sympathized.

"So you have been here for about a month? Where are you from?" asked Clara.

"I'm from Lyon. I've heard your father used to be the conductor?"

"Yes. When I was a little girl, we travelled from Sweden to come at the Opera Populaire, who had just opened. My father is also a music teacher. It's mainly string instruments."

"Really? Does he have any students?"

"Not anymore… If you don't count Gustave and Jules," giggled Clara. "Well, here they are right now!"

Antoinette looked in front of her, and saw two young boys, of about eighteen, who saw them and waved at Clara, running towards her.

"So how was day one?" asked one of the boys, who was brown-haired.

"It was fine," answered Clara. "Oh, this is Antoinette Roussel, she's a ballerina. And Antoinette, this is Gustave Daaé and Jules Giry."

This was only the beginning of a long friendship… and perhaps even more.

Antoinette learned to know her three new friends very quickly. Often, after operas or ballets, they would go out together, and it wasn't rare to see them during their days at the Opera. But of course, Antoinette didn't forget Erik…

Clara Valérius was in character a lot like she was in appearance: a soft, kind girl, almost doleful, who didn't have a very strong health. She was melancholic and sensitive. People often teased her gently for that… everyone, except Gustave.

Gustave Daaé was Swedish, just like Clara. But while she was of a very Northern type, with his black hair and his olive skin, he seemed to come more from the southern parts of the Occidental world… Orphaned, it was on the invitation of Professor Valerius, who had taught him violin when he was younger, that he had come to Paris, to become part of the Opera Populaire orchestra. His talent, brought to the light by Valérius and recognized by many, promised him that one day, he would most certainly be the solo violinist of the Opera Populaire.

When he installed himself at Paris, he immediately formed a bond with his teacher's daughter, Clara Valérius. Gustave knew instinctively how to make her smile, and even laugh, which was quite surprising to everyone since Clara was usually shy and rather melancholic. As the young girl grew up, it was more and more clear to her and to her entourage that she was in love with Gustave Daaé… The young man didn't talk much of his feelings, not even to Jules Giry, his best friend… But Clara kept on hoping that, one day…

And Jules…

Dear, it only took a week before Antoinette was sure of it: she was in love with him.

It was rather strange for her. She even had trouble to believe that she actually was in love with him. It had all happened so fast. But Antoinette was at an age where it takes only but a sparkle to descend, or elevate to that level. She loved how teasing Jules was, how his blonde hair was always messy, and if there was one person that was worse of a bookworm than Erik himself, it was him.

Antoinette wasn't shy at all, but she was of a reserved nature. To flirt with him, trying to install some sort of start of relationship with him was absolutely out of topic. She would never do such a thing. Trying to insist on having more of a conversation with Jules seemed still like too high of a step for her.

It was only after a certain time that Antoinette realized that more and more, she was taking care of her own appearance, gazed more at her reflection when she would pass in front of a mirror. When that awareness came, it was, ironically, in front of a mirror. And for long minutes, the young ballerina stared at her reflection, enclosed in the little room where she was, in a strange world where she could see nothing else but her face.

Antoinette had always considered herself as plain. Her hair was as straight, and could only be curled with very complicate techniques; and even then, it didn't last for long. Their color wasn't very appealing either: they were of a very light brown color, almost blonde, but dull. Her traits were irregular, sort of elf-like, but she was pale and had almost no coloration on her cheeks. Her eyes were beautiful, though. She loved their unique green coloration, with the yellow circle around the pupil. But you had to be close to see how her eyes were. If you looked at them from a farther distance, they seemed brown.

To Antoinette Roussel, it seemed impossible that Jules Giry would have the slightest interest in her. He was a piece of sunshine. That was the best way she could describe him. Always in a good mood, he reminded him, especially with his blonde hair, of the statue dominating the Opera Populaire: Apollo and his lyre. Except here, Apollo had a cello. Well… Jules wasn't at all the most handsome man in the world, but for Antoinette Roussel's eyes, blinded by love, he was.

It was while she was bugging after her plainness that suddenly, a half-masked figure made her jump. Antoinette quickly turned to Erik, retaining a gasp.

"Why were you looking at yourself like that?" asked the boy.

"I was just… just…" Antoinette just couldn't tell Erik why she was just staring there. Her whole attitude had been incredibly vain. At least, she could wander around the Opera Populaire and Paris without being tagged as a freak, which wasn't quite the case with Erik, to talk delicately.

"Nothing important, really," Antoinette finally said.

But already, something else had caught Erik's attention. Now, he was gazing himself at the mirror. The ballerina could see that, of course, he was carefully avoiding staring at his reflection. She understood why, though with the mask, the only thing you could see now was the half-bald head. And that alone, it wasn't too terrible.

"Did you know mirrors are magic?" he finally said.

"No," Antoinette answered, wondering what Erik had now imagined.

"When you know how to use them, they can show you anything you want," he simply replied. "Anything… except my face. Mirrors are cruel. They were meant to show beauty, but they have this morbid attraction for ugliness."

Antoinette smiled, somehow touched by the metaphor used by a child so young.

"Not necessarily," she said gently. "Mirrors are objects. You don't need to know how to use them. They're just there. That's all."

To the ballerina's great surprise, Erik frowned, and skimming the wall with his hand, he finally opened a secret passageway.

"Mirrors are magic, Antoinette. They really are. They showed me a monster once. I smashed them. But they bit me. See the scars?" he added, showing his scared hands. "They've been there since."

And without further ado, Erik penetrated the tunnel and disappeared into the darkness, leaving Antoinette alone. For a moment, she stayed there, wondering what had been Erik's life before he had met her.

And voilà! Leave a review, he really keeps me going!

And by the way… Do Jules Giry, Gustave Daaé and Clara Valérius remind you of people we know? (Yeah, I know, stupid question, I bet you have all guessed it)