"Cassarah! What is the problem!? It's a pirouette, not a line dance. Lift your body, don't sag it. Point your toes!" Frank bellowed out from the corner of the rehearsal room.
I tried my best to obey but the pain of my injury was warranting countless mistakes. The cut itself wasn't even that bothersome, but the poorly wrapped tourniquet caused great agitation.
We took a five minute break. I sat on the floor on the far side of the room and tried to recoil the bandage which had come loose from dancing. Now that it was tight, I put my shoe back on and stretched a little more to try and clear my mind. Dress rehearsals were underway and if these mistakes kept happening I could easily be cut from the production. I wasn't going to allow that to happen. This man may have taken my courage but he would not take my livelihood.
The rest of the rehearsal finished without any more interruptions. Alex was standing in the opposite end of the room from me, talking to the same ballet dancer as the day before. We hadn't really spoke much since our little adventure in the cellars, and in a way I was perfectly okay with that. He would come around when he became bored with his new muse. That's how it always happened anyways.
I slung my backpack over my shoulder and exited the theater. I had another appointment with Dr. Bradley the next day. I had a feeling this was going to be a rough visit. The worksheets she gave me from our last meet up included exercises regarding children and how they made me feel. Another one was about the things that made me feel love. I didn't even bother with them. It was torturous enough sitting there and exposing myself to her, let alone allowing myself to wallow in that grief on my own time. I don't think so!
The gloomy skies outside hung heavy with threatening rain clouds. They seemed to reflect my dark mood. I clenched the collar of my jacket tighter around my neck. With each passing day the temperature dropped more. We were going to be in the throes of autumn sooner than anyone could blink, and the deep chill of winter in pursuit.
Arriving back at the apartment, I paused outside the door. This place was once my safe haven, somewhere I could leave the conflicts of life at the door. Now, I felt invaded, and the comfort I once sought in my apartment was gone. Opening the door, I could still feel the tension heavy within the air. The picture frame was still on the floor, its glass ominously missing.
"Why were the scissors out?" Kris asked, coming out of the hallway.
"Jesus, Kristina! You scared the shit outta me!" My hand flew to my beating heart. I didn't even hear her; I was too wrapped up in my own paranoia.
"Sorry." She stated emotionless.
"Are you okay?" I could sense the shift within her. "You look really pale. Are you feeling well?"
"I'm feeling fine, Cassie. Just haven't been getting enough sleep, with rehearsals and such." Her hands encircled around themselves.
It was deeply disturbing to see her in this state. She was usually so cheerful but now there was a dark vestige hovering all around her. I knew what the cause was and my heart broke for her. It was my duty as her friend to tell her what I knew.
"Kris...I have to tell you something and I don't think you're going to like this."
"What is it?" She asked, crossing her arms.
I looked around the flat, seeking any unnatural form lurking in the shadows. A chill crawled up my back and instantly I got the funny feeling we were being watched. I grabbed Kristina's slender wrist and practically dragged her down the hall into my bedroom. It stunk of stale cigarettes with the overfilled ashtray permeating from my night stand. She went and sat at the edge of my bed while I shut the curtains tight. After last night, I didn't trust any opening in this space.
"Something happened last night. I don't really want to get into detail but I figured out something that you gotta know. It's about your angel of music." I bit my lip. There was this unsettled feeling deep within my gut that I was about to crush my best friends hopes and deflate her dreams.
"I know, I know. I sound absolutely insane."
"I think your angel of music and my scary opera ghost are actually one in the same..." My hands shot up to my mouth as I worked the skin next to my nail with my teeth.
She paused for a moment. "Cassie...that's just a made up ghost story to scare little ballet dancers..." Kristina said, a smile turning her lips. "The angel of music is sweet and his voice is like nothing I've ever heard before. How could there be any possible connection?"
"I don't know exactly. You just have to trust me. I experienced something last night that confirmed my suspicions." The panic began to rise in my voice. "He could be dangerous!"
"Stop! Angels are not dangerous. You have seen your opera ghost. I have never seen this angel before, only heard him and felt him around me. If he was a man, why wouldn't he just show himself to me?"
"Because he's hiding?"
"Are you sure you're not jealous?" She whispered, bowing her head to inspect her nails.
"Jealous!? Are you kidding me?" I grabbed my pack of smokes off the night stand and furiously lit the cigarette. The smoke billowed between us like tumbleweed in a western movie. "There is nothing to be jealous of because it isn't real!"
She stood up infuriated, jutting a shaking finger towards me. "Yet your stupid opera ghost is real!? This is what you had to tell me? The angel said people would be jealous. He said that material things were of no importance to me anymore. No earthly possession, even person is more important than my commitment to him and my music. He warned me...You will not take it away from me!"
"Kris please!" I called after her as she stormed out of my room and slammed the door in front of me.
"Damn it!"
I stood there dumbfounded, unable to comprehend the ignorance of my closest friend. How could it be that I saw so clearly the deception this man was gripping her with? It's as if she didn't understand a word I was telling her. Her utter denial could only mean one thing- she was brainwashed into thinking this man was really an angel. She was clutched in the illusion he has created around her. But I saw the real act.
I sunk down, caressing the grooved hardwood floor and drew in deep on the cigarette, letting the smoke slowly snake out of my mouth. The smell and taste were only a small comfort to my growing anxiety. I crawled over to the edge of my bed and put my head down in frustration. It just seemed like everything I'd been attempting to set this right was exploding right in front of my face.
The image of the masked phantom standing before the balcony doors floated into my head. He was tall, lean- skinny almost. He had a broad chest and wide shoulders that held a vested suit top and a heavy leather trench coat. His mask finely shaped the masculine features of his face. The big, almond shaped eyes were set deep within his head, giving the illusion that they were actually very small. He was the epitome of evil and yet his eyes revealed something else. Thinking more deeply, they almost pleaded to me.
What was I thinking? This man has harassed me twice and he didn't seem to pay any attention to manmade laws. His threats sent a shudder of fear through me. As if out of instinct, my heel began to throb and anger flooded me. I rubbed the rough, makeshift bandage and finally settled on my next plan.
'She is going to find out one way or another. And if I can't show her, then I'll get her away from here. I couldn't live with myself if another person in my life was taken away.'
If he wanted to wage war, then I would be more than eager to counter him. And I won't back down nor will I reach out for anyone's help. This time, I'll be doing this on my own.
Xxx
I stopped outside the stout brick building to flick my cigarette and steel myself for the next hour of interactions. All I had to do was maintain my composure and answer as positively as I could. If I didn't, I knew Dr. Bradley would note correspondingly on my scorecard. These scorecards were shared with everyone who had a hand in my recovery and my custody case; the managers of the opera, my rehabilitation specialist, my case worker and finally the magistrate who looked over my proceedings.
The door closed with a dooming thud. Dr. Bradley sat facing away from me in her wooden office chair. She motioned me to come sit down, her short stubby fingers polished and filled with gaudy jewelry. The leather bound chair creaked as I sat awkwardly facing her.
"Good afternoon, Cass. You look a little disheveled." She said, sliding her pen out from the top of her clipboard.
"Just a rough couple of days..." I answered shortly. I desperately hoped she didn't pry.
"Oh? Care to talk about it?" Bradley poised the pen over her note, waiting for my reply.
"Not particularly. Long story short, there has been tension with a new...student... at the opera house. In the last few days I've hurt my foot, been mocked by my bosses and had a horrible argument with my best friend."
She studied me for a moment and then scribbled a few notes. "I'm sorry to hear about your injury and the tension between you and your friend. We are relatively short on time today as I have a conference I need to head out to at three. Did you happen to try any of those exercises?"
"I glanced at them..." I said, playing with the button on my coat, "I didn't see the point of doing any of that stuff."
"Hmm." She paused, pushing up her glasses over the large hill of her nose. "Well, then I will start off by asking a question. How much do you remember of the night you and Peter were arrested?"
My head shot up and I gaped at her. It was such a dark, traumatic day I felt like my brain blocked it all. I knew if I sat and thought hard enough I could remember enough details to answer her. The only thing was I didn't want to. I had built up a wall surrounding that day, keeping all the hurt and shame bottled there. If I let it all come out, I'd surely die of heartache. Steadying my breath, I struggled to spit out an answer.
"Well... Peter had gone off to see Mac for another run. He said it was the biggest they were doing for a while. He said it would pay well and get us out of the shit we were living in. He started off as a dealer and ended up as one of Mac's right hand guys. When he got back, he was in this frenzy. He sat at the couch and shot a hit of heroin...he looked panicked and I couldn't understand why...I went to go try and calm him down but he threw me away and told me to back off..." I paused, feeling like I was unable to speak the words that were to come next.
"Go on, Cass. This needs to be said, you need to get it out or it's just going to fester." She wrote a few more notes before gesturing me to continue.
"I remember there were knocks on the door and then a huge bang. One of Macs runners barged in, pointing a gun at Peter and then another one came through the door. He must have been the size of a rhino. He paced the room, as the other guy kept the gun on Peter. The big man then punched Peter in the stomach and he fell down to the ground. I went to help him but another one of Macs thugs threw me up against the wall. From the back room, I could hear Andre screaming... After a few tense moments, Mac walked into the apartment. He was furious about something. He kept asking Peter where the money was and who he ratted them all out to. I tried to crawl away to Andre's room, but one of the thugs rounded a gun on me. Mac hit Peter on his face and then started making his way towards Andre's room. I pleaded with him to let me go to my son. I heard a gunshot, and then a few moments later, I heard sirens. My only guess is that one of the neighbors heard the disturbance...they arrested us all and took my son...that's the last I saw of my son..."I dropped my head in my hands and sobbed.
"That must have been very hard for you to experience, especially at the hands of someone whom you loved. I'm sure you felt powerless." The calmness in her voice infuriated me.
"To be honest with you, Doc, I don't remember a lot of details. I was under this veil of influence and drugs. I was weak. I let someone else take control of me and my actions. And that has cost me the only good thing I've ever had in my whole life. In a way, I'm relieved that Andre was taken away from that life because if that never happened and I was never ripped away from that drug and that life, God only knows where we would be." I stopped to take a breath. "This is why I refuse to let a man close to my heart, why I don't feel the need to let anyone in or as you say "make connections". I've done that before and it did nothing but cause me pain and misery. During my life with Peter, I was raped, robbed, stabbed, sold, beat and betrayed. I lost my life and my son and those are two things I'll never get back!" I raged.
When I had finished, I looked down and realized my hands were in tight balls on my lap. Dr. Bradley scribbled incessantly, her rings and bracelets clanging together in her fevered attempts to capture her thoughts.
"Hmm. Cass, I want you to know that your revulsion towards human connection is natural at this stage, but eventually you are going to have to learn to let go. When your mind can separate the past and future, your heart will finally fall and your mind will be at ease. Don't give up, yet. Your progress will get there. Eventually someone will make your heart beat again and perhaps even take you by surprise."
I scoffed. "What do you know? You're single with three cats."
Her eyebrow raised, "That may be true, but I'm also not a virgin."
"Gross."
"How are you handling the stress of the upcoming performance? How have things been around the Opera?"
My heart skipped a beat. She couldn't know...
"Fine-just the usual butterflies." I didn't want to elaborate so I left it at that.
She seemed satisfied with my answer and carried on the rest of our half hour appointment with tips on how to manage stress and triggers for my addiction. The mood seemed to have lifted after this and soon I was able to ease back into the leather chair. We talked of the weather and I told her of the Masquerade at the end of October.
"That sounds like fun! Are you going to with anyone?"
I narrowed my eyes and crossed my arms. A waft of pungent, musky perfume attacked my nose as the prospect of her question settled. "Not formally. Maybe I'll meet Alex there or something…"
"You should ask him, it could be fun. Or maybe you'll find someone there?" She winked at me.
The clock struck three and we both jumped. She wrapped up our session and shooed me out. I was to go back in a month to reevaluate where I was and we would go from there.
I closed the door and began the walk to the opera house. The leaves skirted across the sidewalks, sounding like rattle snakes. My mind wandered back to the masked man and his warning. He was obviously insane and was quite clever for someone who lived in a basement. Yet, his eyes held so much more than severity and cleverness.
XxX
Walking into the Palais Garner, I was greeted with crowds of people bustling around, trapped in their own business. I veered down the corridor toward the stage, aware of an uncanny feeling of being watched. Whether or not this feeling was present because of the knowledge I had of the phantom residing within the structure, or if I was truly being followed, it was difficult to decipher.
Muffled music from the second act of the performance fluttered its way down the now empty corridor. I glanced at the wooden walls, peering between the tall ornate columns and indentations that lined the wood.
As I passed a decorated mirror, I paused. Looking at my reflection, I suddenly got the eerie feeling someone was looking back. I shuffled a little closer, my eyes narrowing to catch any difference within the glass. My knuckles gently rapped against the glossy surface. Instead of the dead pang one would expect to hear, it sounded...hollow.
Down the hall, one of the chorus members from Kristina's group walked by, and I feigned caring to a loose lock of hair. She passed by, hardly noticing me in her own thoughts. I watched her walk to the end of the hallway without a second glance backwards. I turned to look at the mirror once more.
I heard the swish of fabric and out of the corner of my eye, a shadow moved within one of the columns. I jerked around, but found myself completely alone. Coming to my senses, I shook the sight away, chalking it up to my growing paranoia. I abandoned the mirror and continued my journey towards the music.
As I pushed the handle to enter the theater, I felt a large hand grasp my shoulder. I jumped violently and turned to see a friendly foreigner smiling at me. He wore a uniform and across the chest, the words "Security" were inscribed. His hair was covered by a cream colored turban and a lengthy beard flowed evenly to his neck.
"Mademoiselle Dubois?" His accent purred out into the empty corridor.
I shook my head, "Yes?"
"Could I have a private word with you in my office?" He gestured his hand to the adjoining wing.
"Is there a problem?" I asked, my brows furrowing as butterflies swelled within my belly.
"This is regarding the complaint you made of a possible stow away."
"Oh...yes of course."
"This way, please."
He turned sharply on his heel and motioned me to follow him. I glanced back at the theater door and feeling like I didn't have a choice, hurried to catch up to him. He walked briskly down the hall and stopped outside a plain door. He unlocked it and held it open for me to enter.
The room was simple, windowless and cramped. A dark, oak desk filled one side of the wall, brimming with files and sheets of paper. There was only one other chair available to sit on but it was littered with piles of papers. The man quickly cleared away the mess and pointed to the chair. I sat down and nervously twisted my hair around my trembling finger. I wasn't comfortable around law enforcement. The feeling of being interrogated made me sick to my stomach.
"Mademoiselle Dubois-"
"Please call me Cass." I interjected.
"My name is Amir Nadir. I'm the Chief of Security here at the opera house. I've been made aware by our managers that you've recently encountered a masked assailant." He sat down on the chair in front of the desk, its hinges groaning under the weight of his body.
"I have...on a few occasions." I said, staring at my hands.
"How did you end up seeing this masked man?" The Persian rolled a pen between his fingers as he patiently gazed at me.
"A friend and I had ventured down a hidden corridor as a dare. It was just for fun. I wasn't expecting to find anyone there..."
"Hmm. And you are sure you saw a mask, mademoiselle?"
My head lifted to stare at the Chief of security. "It's the first thing I noticed. It's kind of hard to miss!"
"I see. You mentioned you've seen him on a few occasions. Where else have you encountered the masked man?"
I bit my lip as indecision ate at my resolve. The masked man's threats to stay out of his way echoed within my mind, as if trying to chain me to silence. This was my chance to try and spoil the man's intentions for Kristina. He was dangerous, I knew this, and as long as he had full reign of the opera, I was powerless.
"He cornered me in a hallway, most likely trying to terrify me. He was also at my apartment two nights ago with a not so friendly warning, which by the way is breaking and entering. And yesterday, I caught him spying on the rehearsals from the rafters. I pursued him..."
"Oh...why would you do that?"
"I don't know. I guess I just wanted to know where he went. Or I should say where he stalks his prey." I scoffed and crossed my legs as he carefully observed me.
"That's not a very wise decision. Aren't you afraid of him?"
"Afraid? Fear, sir, is only the mind's reaction to the unknown."
"Hmm..." He sat back to contemplate my analysis.
"Sir, to be completely honest with you, it's not me I'm afraid for anymore. It's my friend, Kristina Daae..."
This time, the Persian's brows lifted in surprise. Obviously he had not seen this bit of information coming. "Kristina?"
"She's a learning Soprano, sir. She replaced the previous lead after a mysterious accident ended up with the "prima ballerina" breaking her ankle last month...which come to think of it-"
Amir interrupted before I had a chance to release my suspicion, "And what are your fears concerning Kristina?"
"She told me about an Angel of Music who tutors her after hours in her dressing room. Apparently this angel is some musical genius. But the kicker is, she has never seen him, only heard his voice. I put two and two together the other night after the masked man came to threaten me. He knows her name, and he told me to mind my own business... The ego of a ghost." My face must have portrayed some wild expression for the Persian had a single bushy brow raised. He scooted much closer and bent his covered head low towards me.
"Cass, I'm going to reveal something to you but you must keep it secret. I can't force you to but for your own peace, I'd heavily suggest it. His name is Erik and he does indeed live deep below the population of the opera house. That's who you saw. He is a presence here, stepping in on behalf of management to correct misgivings and keep the riff raff at bay. But, he is also obligated to keep away from us, which obviously from your statements, he is failing to do."
I was puzzled and unable to comprehend the blunt confession this man had bestowed upon me. "So... You all are aware of him? This Erik?"
"All too aware..." Amir leaned back in his chair with a smug look on his face.
"Why the hell is he here? I don't understand why he isn't being forced out."
"Well...in the past it was a much more dire relationship between us all. In the last few years, he's been rather...quiet. As for residency, it was more of a personal favor that I helped him stay here. He had saved my life a few times, and for that I will forever be in his debt."
"Why here? Why not live somewhere else like a normal person?"
He laughed. "Erik is anything but normal. So naturally, he has nowhere else to go. Imagine your reaction to him times a thousand. He exiles himself from the world above to dwell in the darkness. It's too morbid for any of us mere mortals to understand." Amir rolled his eyes and began to play with the pen again.
A knock on the door interrupted our discussion. We both glanced quickly at one another. Amir called the person in. A disheveled man spilled in, out of breath and had said that someone was locked in one of the dressing rooms and couldn't get out.
"Ms. Cass, would you excuse me for a moment? I'll be back as soon as I go unlock this door. We'll finish our conversation as soon as I return. I should only be a few minutes." He called as he thundered out the door, closing it behind him.
The silence pounded in my head as I waited uncomfortably for the chief. I looked across from me to a tall bookshelf. A few shelves were overtaken by volumes of thick, dusty books. The others held pictures of people, places and other keepsakes. I got up to take a better look.
All the people in the pictures were from of far off lands, with furniture and buildings I was unaccustomed to seeing. A picture of a large golden palace spread wide across one of the shelves next to a glass case with a glimmering sword in it. In another picture, there was a family of three, a woman with long, black hair and beautiful, green almond-shaped eyes. Next to her there was a little boy with identical eyes, about the age of ten and next to him was a much younger version of the Persian. Below that shelf there were small, uninteresting trinkets and at the far end a small wooden music box. I opened the lid softly, but clamped it shut after a few cords of music notes drifted out into the silent office room.
"Are you devoid of all manners? First a rat, now a snoop. Tsk, tsk." A silky voice teased. I froze. Taking a deep breath, I steeled my nerves and turned to face him.
He sat in my chair, his long legs crossed and his hands wrapped gracefully around his knee. The usual formal attire was present along with his glowing white mask. He looked at me from under his wide brimmed hat and smirked. There was a charming sparkle in his eyes.
I glanced from him, to the only other door in the room and back. "How did you-?" I motioned behind me.
"A magician never reveals his secrets." He took off his hat and flicked it up towards the ceiling. There was a small spark before the hat disappeared into thin air. I gaped at the spot where it was moments ago. "I see you and the Daroga were having a very riveting conversation. Pray tell what could the subject matter possibly have been regarding?"
"How did you-?"
He stood up to his full height and took a step closer to me, his presence overbearing in the tiny office room. "I already told you, a magician never reveals his secrets." He reached behind me and pulled his hat out from around my back. With a snap of his wrist, he tossed the hat back onto his head and flicked the edge with his finger to right it.
"How did-" I stood with my mouth hanging open. I hated to admit it but I was completely enthralled.
"The Daroga, you simple minded woman, what did he tell you?" He propped himself on the corner of the Persians desk, his arms folded across his chest. The man's movements were terribly elegant and distracting.
"Nothing. At least none of your concern." I crossed my arms over my chest and looked steadily at the glowering man before me.
"Knowing Amir, he was most earnestly trying to inform you of my person. And yet here you stand, unperturbed while facing death right before you."
"All I see is a coward hiding behind a mask that gets a kick out of scaring people and taking advantage of weak, young girls." I snapped at him, my courage fluffing my chest out in defiance.
"A coward?" He laughed. "Remarkable. Your ignorance knows no bounds."
"My ignorance!? I know what you're trying to do to Kristina, and believe me I won't let it happen."
"Mademoiselle, it's already been done. She bends to my every command willingly. I am the key to her success and she knows it."
"And what is your gain out of this? Are you trying to get her to sleep with you?"
He seemed taken back by my comment and paused before answering. "Deplorable. My only gain is the pride in which I will enjoy seeing her dreams come true."
"Then why hide from her?"
His arms slowly dropped down to his sides while his hands began to ball up into clenched fists. He slid off the Persians desk and took a step closer to me. The familiar smell of pine and wet cement invaded my nose as he glared down at the top of my head. His body was close enough to where I could see the intricate design of his vest. I fought the urge to back away and bit my trembling lip. I had to stand my ground. He needed to know I wasn't backing down this time, not ever.
"A truth so hideous the devil himself couldn't even fathom it." His eyes betrayed his body as a look of sadness washed over them. There was a commotion outside of the room and I turned around to see the office door begin to open.
"My apologies Ms. Cass! I could not find the right key." Amir said with heavy guilt. "Are you alright?"
"I was just..." I gestured to where Erik had been standing only moments before. There was nothing but the cold, empty air. "Uh...admiring your pictures."
"Ah yes, those are from my homeland in Persia. I get homesick sometimes so it's nice to have some comforts from the country."
"Oh, that's nice." I replied awkwardly. I returned to my seat next to the desk, but my mind was still reeling about the disappearing magician.
"Now where were we?"