Music and a Mask

Over the next few weeks, Amelia would practice in their grotto. Erik loved listening to her play. There was now a clock sitting on a small wooden table on smooth rock. They had also found a way to get a large cushioned chair in the room. He would sit on it and watch her walk around while playing. This evening he found himself jealous of her talent. Once she finished playing she sat down on the chair next to him.

"I want an instrument," Erik said longingly. Amelia handed him the violin.

"Go crazy," she sighed.

"No. Not a violin. Something else…"

She began naming all sorts of instruments. "..Piano…organ…"

"I like those. Big instruments that can put my stupid long fingers to work," he said. Smiling, she told him, "I just happen to know where a piano is." Amelia glanced at the clock on the table. "And, it's almost midnight, which means that you could play it without people noticing." He immediately sat up.

"Where?"

"Just follow me," she said mischievously.

They walked up the countless flights of stairs. When the two friends reached the main level of the Opera House, they saw that all was quiet and dark.

"There's a short cut to backstage this way," she whispered. They walked a little further until Amelia stopped in front of a scarlet curtain.

"Are you ready?"

"Yes!" he told her excitedly. She took his hand and walked past the curtain, onto the stage. I was empty and dark; neither could see the audience seating.

"Hold on," she whispered and went over to a gas lamp and lit it. Amelia then lit a few stage lights so that there was an ethereal glow.

Erik looked around. "This place is amazing," he whispered. Amelia nodded in silent agreement. They both felt as though they would break the eerie magic the theatre held if they spoke above a whisper. She placed her hand on his arm and pointed to the piano on the side of the stage.

Erik walked slowly towards the grand piano. His hands had itched so long to caress the ivory keys of a piano. And finally, for the first time in years, his long fingers began to play. The song was long and drawn out, sounding mournful, but very beautiful. Amelia's eyes closed, listening intently.

When he finished, she asked, "Erik, where did you learn to play like that?"

"My mother taught me how to read music and the notes on a piano. I trained myself from there." She sat next to him on the piano bench. "I'll bring my violin up here some other night. We can play together." He agreed, and then played more.

The next morning, Amelia went to rehearsal. It was an extra hour longer, because there was a performance that evening. Little did she know, however, was that somebody followed her. In that past week, Erik had figured out how to watch and follow Amelia without anybody noticing, including her. He watched her up in the rafters as she took her seat. Sitting there, Erik listened to the music flowing throughout the theater.

After a while, Erik walked around above the stage, exploring secret passageways, wondering why nobody had ever used them. He found so many different ways to move around and see unusual angles of the theatre. But the music drew him back to the spot where he had been sitting earlier. The orchestra was rehearsing the Ballet Act. Amelia always swayed and moved her body with that song. Erik smiled to himself as her head jerked gracefully to the right. Her long hair moved like a waterfall with her head.

He placed his elbow on his knee and his chin in his hand. There was something entrancing about watching and listening to the orchestra from up in the rafters. Erik felt so powerful up there. No one stared at him; no one cursed at him; no one threw anything at him. He felt is throat constrict and tears stinging his eyes. He swallowed and looked down at Amelia. She wouldn't let anyone do that to him here, he just knew it.

Erik stood and walked along the rafters, gazing at the orchestra as he went. Monsieur Reyer was currently working with the brass section and Amelia was facing him. When he saw her glance up in his direction, he quickly jumped onto the stagehand platform, out of sight. But as he did so, he hit a lever with his arm. The lever released the rope holding up a backdrop. The backdrop fell onto the stage with a large smash. Before he realized what he was doing Erik slid into a passageway in the shadows.

He grimaced when he heard distant screams. There was quite a ruckus and he couldn't help himself. Erik crouched down and looked out onto the stage. Luckily, no singer, dancer, or chorus member had been on stage at the time. But now many people surrounded the fallen backdrop, a few looking up and around for the culprit. His eyes searched for Amelia. She had risen from her seat, violin in hand. She was one of the few whose head was to the ceiling, eyes searching.

Erik had an odd feeling that she would be able to find him. He slowly slid back into the shadows as he heard a young dancer cry, "It was a ghost!"

"A phantom!" another squealed.

He almost laughed at them as he walked away. Ignorant ballet rats, he thought to himself.

When the rehearsal was over, Amelia walked up the wrought-iron spiral staircase above the stage. She carefully walked along the stagehand platform, searching for something. It was darker than she had expected, and she had trouble seeing more than a few feet in front of her. Amelia stumbled over a large rope. For some reason, she felt her heart pounding as she stood up.

Amelia snapped her head around. She heard something, so she slowly walked in the direction in which she heard it. The unknown darkness was intimidating, but her curiosity pushed her forward. The floor creaked as she stepped slowly and cautiously.

Then, somebody touched her shoulder, making her jump about a foot high. Amelia turned around quickly to see who it was. Standing in front of her was a grungy looking stagehand in his late twenties. He appeared to have some sort of booze in his hand. He took a quick swig of his drink.

"Yeh shouldn't be up here, missy. It's not a playground," the man waved her off with a dismissive hand.

Rolling her eyes, Amelia walked down the spiral stairs back onto the stage. She then went back to her and Erik's home. After the agonizing stairs, she entered the grotto and let her body sink into the soft chair.

"Erik?" she called out. There was no answer. She frowned. Where could he be? Amelia stood and surveyed their home. So far they had a large cushioned chair, a small side table with a clock on it, a blanket, and her violin. She frowned again. This was not what she called 'homey.' Amelia made a mental note to go the market with Marie and buy more appliances.

As she stood gazing at their lack of hominess, she heard footsteps. Erik had returned from wherever he had gone to. He walked over to where Amelia was standing and positioned himself as she was, surveying. She raised an eyebrow at him.

"What are we doing?" he asked innocently.

"I was looking. What were you doing?"

"Looking," Erik replied; he really had been watching her earlier.

"Something odd happened at rehearsal today," she changed the subject, seating herself on the chair.

"Oh?" he asked feigning innocence.

"A backdrop mysteriously fell onto the stage." He didn't respond.

Amelia's face betrayed her; she knew. "You were there, though, so that's not a surprise to you, right?"

It was a good thing he had a sack over his head, because Erik knew his face gave him away as well. "How did you find out?" he asked quietly, grudgingly.

She smiled, quite pleased with herself. "I saw you." Her smile faded. "Well, I didn't really see you. For some reason, I just knew you were there. It was like I could sense you. And then when the backdrop fell… it just assured my suspicions."

Erik gazed at her. How could she have sensed he was there? What did she mean by 'it assured my suspicions'? He didn't do it on purpose.

"That was an accident," he stated quietly.

Her eyes softened. "I know," she replied. It was that simple. That was all she had to say, and he believed her. Erik sat next to her.

Amelia sighed and leaned back into the chair and rested her head on Erik's shoulder. "What am I going to do with you?" A strange feeling filled Erik's stomach once he felt her soft hair on his arm. Unsurely, Erik slid his hand around her shoulder. She let out a tired sigh and closed her eyes.

"Mia," he whispered. Amelia's head slowly lifted up to face him. She was about to speak, but both became speechless. Each pair of eyes held so much emotion, so much trust. Amelia reached under the sack and placed her hand on his left cheek. They gazed at each other intently. A thought made her pull away reluctantly.

"Erik, I need to get ready," she whispered.

Amelia put a black ribbon in her hair and studied herself in the mirror. "You look beautiful, but sadly, nobody will see you," Caitlin joked. "Thanks for letting me get ready here," Amelia said. "No problem," she replied. Caitlin was wearing a dress, the bodice was white and the skirt was black. "Well, let's go!" There was a buzz of excitement as the two entered the theater.

Amelia's heart pounded as the lights dimmed and the audience got quiet. Monsieur Reyer's arms lifted. She watched him closely. Her cue came and she felt her body move with the music. As she played her violin, she wished that she could watch the performance. The opera seemed to go by quickly.

Already it was time for the Ballet Act. If it was possible, the butterflies flew from her stomach to her fingers. Once the piece started, she relaxed and played her best. She could hear the ballerinas' feet hitting the stage floor every time they came down from a jump. Her mind slowly became consumed by the music. Amelia concentrated on the sheet music in front of her, and watched Monsieur Reyer with her peripheral vision.

The pain in her shoulder became numb when she heard the applause from the audience once the opera was over. Amelia had a sense of pride welling up in her stomach. She was a part of the Opera Populaire's orchestra. She couldn't wait to see Erik and ask him how everything else went.

After receiving many praises on her playing, Amelia packed her violin away into its case. She felt strangely exhausted. The performance was amazing, but it had drained her. She noticed that it was almost midnight. Erik must have been wondering where she was.

She walked as fast as her tired legs would allow. Carrying her violin case and music wasn't helping much, either. Once she reached the water, Amelia pulled off her petticoats and held up her dress. We really do need a boat,she thought to herself.

"Erik?" she called out. There was no answer, so she figured he was still upstairs, perhaps looking for her. He would come down here eventually. She tossed her petticoats off to one side and curled up into the comfortable chair.

Meanwhile…

"Are you sure this looks okay?" Erik asked nervously.

"Yes, I'm positive," Marie replied. "And it's about time you stopped wearing that thing over your head anyways. This looks much better."

Erik turned and looked at himself in the mirror. Marie had gone out and bought him a mask, so he didn't have to wear the tattered sack over his head. The mask was the purest white and it covered only the deformed half of his face. Marie had also bought him new clothes. "How can I repay you, Marie?" he asked. She just shook her head kindly.

"Now, if we can just get your hair to lie down…" her hand was about to touch his head, but he backed away. "One thing at a time, I think," Erik said. Marie smiled, "Alright. Oh! You'd better go, it's midnight. Amelia will be wondering where you are."

Erik nodded and slipped out of the room.