Disclaimer: All references to the characters from the Gaston Leroux's The Phantom of the Opera belong to their pertinent parties and publishers. I do not claim ownership to the characters, any iteration from a major production of the same material, and / or the original source material.
De petite souris a monsieur chat: Chapter 23
February 1883: Managers' Office & Far Beneath the Opera House
Days passed. Nadir avoided the Opera House as much as possible. However, he could not avoid his meeting with Fornier on Thursday afternoon. The manager admitted to being flummoxed at receiving a post for the Persian, but Nadir wasn't surprised. Glancing at the red scrawl, he knew immediately who had "sent" the letter that had arrived on the manager's desk. With a sigh, he borrowed Fornier's letter opener and cracked the black wax seal.
"Who is it from?" the curious older man asked while twisting his mustache idly.
"A composer I have a commissioned to write an opera for you," Nadir replied as he scanned the letter. He frowned and sighed as he noticed the raised bushy eyebrow. The Daroga re-folded the letter and tucked it into his coat. "I felt inspired upon hearing the music of an acquaintance. He's talented but rather eccentric."
Fornier nodded as if he completely understood. The Persian imagined Erik rolling his eyes at the man. The large man smiled and stated, "When will the work be ready for Richard and I to hear it? We, the managers, need to approve it before we can agree to perform the work. I'm sure you understand."
"Of course," the Persian muttered rising to his feet. "The composer will finish it soon after some minor readjustments are made to the libretto. Now if you'll excuse me, I have another appointment to keep."
The Daroga let the rotund manager see him out of the office. A young ballerina with hair the color of summer wheat and light brown eyes looked up at him through long black lashes. The Persian couldn't recall her name but remembered she was the Polish girl currently gracing the stage as prima ballerina. Dressed in the height of fashion for the day, she gave him a coquettish smile and a small nod of the head. He didn't want to know why she stood outside the M. Fornier's office nor did he care really. The Persian walked slowly and ran over in his mind what he had planned on saying. The more he thought about it, the more he wondered if anything he said would matter. Easily, he exited the Opera House only to re-enter it in order to arrive in the subterranean realm of the Phantom.
Why am I here? Erik won't change his mind. He won't understand why I am upset with him So... why am I here? Nadir thought to himself. He stared at the door leading to Erik's home bathed in candlelight. The letter had been succinct and offered no apology. The Persian didn't expect to get an apology. Erik was headstrong; the Phantom even more so. To ask him to change the opera had been foolhardy of Nadir, but he also felt justified. Erik's libretto did glorify the Angel's actions rather than admit to Erik's cowardice and betrayal. Also, to use his love's story… To play false to what happened… He took a deep breath to calm his nerves. He had been invited, but would he encounter the emotionally brittle Erik or the stubborn genius Phantom? He needed to be ready for either persona of the man… or a different one. He let out the breath he had held in and turned the knob on the door. It made a soft click and he pulled it open on silent hinges.
"You came," Erik said from his desk as Nadir stepped into the lair. "Earlier than I anticipated even."
"Why leave only to come back later? It was easier to see you now," he replied walking over to stand in front of the desk. "What did you want to discuss?" Pages were scattered across the desk. Many of the sheets had scribbled lines of music. Some sentences were underlined while others were completely scratched out.
"I'm writing a new libretto to suit your tastes..." the Phantom said without looking up from his desk. He wore his informal attire and had donned a black mask. Probably to avoid cleaning the ink stains off of his white ones thought Nadir blankly. Erik had the bad habit of letting the music grip him and to let his appearance become less formal when he worked. His quill hovered over the sheet waiting to see what Nadir had to say. Erik finally looked up when Nadir stayed silent. "What do you want changed?"
"Change the ending," Nadir said quietly.
"But she deserves a better," the Phantom replied tilting his head to the side. He glanced back at the sheet thinking.
They were silent for a moment.
"You know we can't put the actual events on stage," Erik began.
"I know and nor do I want you to do such a thing."
Erik eased back in his chair and closed his eyes thinking. The Persian picked up the sheet of parchment closest to him. He couldn't make out much between the red scrawl and black notes.
"Have you ever heard of Scheherazade?" he asked quietly. He noticed the Phantom open his exposed eye to look at him. Nadir simply nodded. He suppressed the need to scoff at the Phantom's question. Of course the Persian knew the story of 1,001 stories in 1,001 nights told by the beautiful girl to her king.
"The truth played as fiction set within a larger fiction," Nadir commented. "Very well."
"What else would you have me change?" Erik asked quietly and patiently.
"Nothing…" breathed the Persian setting the sheet back on the desk. "I approve of your libretto and I will present it to the managers in a fortnight. I assume you have parts of the composition available for performance already?"
"Of course," Erik huffed. He glanced at the organ. "I would be finished, but I have been hampered recently."
Nadir turned and followed Erik's gaze to the organ. He looked back at Erik. "Minor mishaps have never hampered you before…" However, in his mind, nadir finished the thought, Or perhaps it is not a what but a who.
The Persian watched as the hackles on the back Erik's neck rose. Angry eyes flashed at the implication that anything other than his music consider him. The Persian smiled. He slipped a note from his pocket and held it out to Erik. "The Little Mouse asks after your health and her shawl."
All of the anger seemed to wash away from Erik in an instant. With stained fingers, the Phantom leaned over his desk to take the folded note. Nadir had seen this curious, almost innocent expression on Erik's face only once before. Back in the Sultan's place, he had stood watch once when Erik received a puzzle box and had been instructed to open it. Nadir had watched the Angel of Death examine the puzzle box like a child encountering a toy for the first time. The marvel and wonder, however, gave way to resolve and the blankness so common to the monster. He opened it easily with a twist of the top, and then disappeared once dismissed by the Sultan. Seeing it here and directed at a note written by a woman unnerved Nadir. Such a simple note should not have garnered such a reaction. He also did not expect the Phantom to tuck the note away into his pocket, unread.
The calculating Phantom leaned back into his chair and examined the Persian before him. His lips on the exposed side of his face curled upward. "Now. What would you prefer - the Sultana to die by the lover's hand or left to suffer from insanity?"
"Whichever you think is best for enhancing the drama onstage," Nadir replied casually stroking his beard. Without saying the exact words, Erik's changes and willingness to have the changes approved were his way of apologizing. It was as if the fight had never happened. "Just be sure to add the Scheherazade framework."
"Good," Erik stated turning back to his work. "That will be all, Daroga. Good day."
Dismissed, the Persian bowed to the composer and walked out of the lair. Their relationship had shifted back to the odd companionship they had. No apologies. No admittance of guilt by either party. No need to discuss the problems they had. Usually Erik would take a week to wallow and determine the faults of his actions. Sometimes the problems were never rectified. Nadir sighed and smiled to himself. Perhaps the old Opera Ghost had learned something. Outside of the Opera house, Nadir hailed a cab and wondered what sparked these changes in the stubborn Phantom.