Chapter 3: Truths

Erik's POV

Standing on stage was a girl in the same black dress and the same black hat, but the veil and gloves were removed, revealing emerald skin. I gasped again in shock and borderline horror until I remembered what Elphaba had told me about her being a freak. Never did I expect a green person though!

Elphaba's POV

Erik gasped the moment I started singing. This kept a smile on my face the entire song. I noticed his eyes were closed the whole time and did a silent prayer that he wouldn't freak out when he saw me. When the song finally ended, his eyes opened. Erik gasped once more. This gasp, though, was not an amazed gasp. It was more along the lines of horrified. My heart sunk low in my chest, saddened by his actions. He shouldn't be one to gawk, I thought, for he tromps around wearing a mask. My sadness faded away and was soon replaced with a heated anger as I stomped off stage.

"Wait!" I heard Erik yell after me. His cries didn't stop me. They only encouraged me to leave faster. Now he wants to ask forgiveness? I didn't whisper a word about his mask and he acts as though my verdigris is the most horrible thing he's ever seen? I heard him behind me but kept going, determined not to let him see the tears gathering in my eyes. Erik was almost at my heels when his footfalls ceased. All was quiet. No heavy thuds of dress shoes, no gasping breaths as Erik tried to catch up with me, only the stage hands in the rafters preparing for next seasons shows. I stopped and as quick as I could, threw a glance over my shoulder. Nothing. How could he just disappear?

"Nighttime sharpens

Heightens each sensation

Darkness stirs

And wakes imagination

Silently the senses

Abandon their defenses"

A man's voice echoed off of the walls. I took a step toward the voice. Never once have I heard one so golden and pure. Slowly, I made my way toward a dressing room at the end of a long hallway, where the sound seemed to be emitting from. Guessing by the multitude of roses scattered across the room, the beautiful red furniture, and the huge floor to ceiling mirror, it must have been the prima donna's room.

I stopped and looked around the room, in search of a man standing around singing. Nobody but the voice was there. I listened for a while, trying to determine where the velvet voice was coming from. I walked toward the mirror. Each step I took toward it, the voice grew stronger. I hesitantly raised my palm to the cool glass and pushed. It didn't budge. I pushed it to the right. It slid about an inch. Soon I had the entire mirror open, revealing Erik standing in the doorway with his gloved hand out for me, urging me to take it and become wrapped up in his music. I reached out and took his hand, his voice clouding my mind. All I could remember before passing out was walking down a cold hallway illuminated by candles, riding across a lake drenched in silver mist, and a voice. Erik's voice, smooth and hypnotic.

"Help me make the music of the night."

Erik's POV

Elphaba fainted on the boat to my lair under the opera. The rest of the ride was fine, but getting her on shore was a completely different task. After nearly falling into the waist deep water twice, I finally succeeded in getting her to the swan bed in my Louis-Philippe room.

I stared at her for a while. I've never before seen a girl with emerald skin and I'm prepared to say anyone else who has was in a state of awe for the first time too. So many questions about her ran through my mind. How long has she been green? Was she born green? Where was she from? Why isn't she famous already? With a voice like her own, surely she could land a starring spot in any opera house. Right, she's green. I answered my own question, that probably being the reason she auditioned on Coney Island.

As I turned to leave, a mental shock took hold of me. Sitting on a nearby table was one of my paintings of Christine, with her beautiful face framed with chocolate curls. She was gone. My angel, who had for so many years been my light, was dead. I quickly scooped up the watercolor and brought it to my main room, the music room. I walked to my piano and set the painting on top of it. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I sat down on the bench and removed my mask and ran my hands over my sore face. How was I to write music now? Being apart from her, alone, made it difficult to write, but now, now I don't know if I can manage a note. Deciding to give it a go I pulled out a piece of blank music paper and a fountain pen.

"In my mind, I hear melodies pure and unearthly

But I find

I can't give them a voice without you."

I sobbed into my hands, dropping tears on the still blank paper. Aggravated, I shoved the paper back into the drawer, my hand brushing against something smooth and cold. I reached deeper in the drawer and grasped the gun. I bought it many years ago in Persia, after I was on death's door from being mugged. I wanted to end it all. Nothing was there to stop me. Christine is gone and nobody else will look upon me without hate or fear. Briefly, my thoughts flickered to Elphaba. She was different, just like me. She would understand my pain and we would undoubtedly go through lots more when my park reopens in the spring and she is the lead singer. No! I couldn't think like that, only to be heartbroken yet again. Have her ripped away from me because God didn't want me to be happy. Realizing someone would have to show Elphaba the way out of my lair, I let go of the gun, slammed the drawer shut, an replaced my mask.

Elphaba's POV

I woke up on a swan shaped bed, swathed in blankets. I threw them off and immediately realized whey there was so many. It was cold in here! I shivered and wrapped one of the quilts around my shoulders and sat for a moment. I heard a happy tune emitting from somewhere and turned to see a music bow in the shape of a barrel organ. Attached, the figure of a monkey, in Persian robes, playing the cymbals. I looked around, only to be met with a black curtain surrounding the bed. I looked up and saw a matching black rope dangling from above. I reached out and pulled it and was rewarded with a rapidly disappearing curtain.

As the music box's happy music came to a close, a softer, sadder melody drifted from the hallway at the opposite end of the room. Carefully, so as not to trip on the dragging corners of the quilt, I stood and dizzily walked to the door. I walked down the hall, with one hand on the wall to stabilize me, and realized that the walls were made of cool, damp rock. I finally made it to the last door. The one with the music behind it. I opened it and stepped into a large room lit with hundreds of candles. The music was coming from a large piano in the middle of the room. A man was sitting on the bench in front of it. Erik.

As quiet as I could, I walked toward him. The melancholy music stopped. He just sat there shaking as if he had been crying for a long while. The closer I came, the more my curiosity took hold of me. What was he hiding under his mask? Did he wear it simply to attract attention, or be mysterious? If he did, I highly doubted he would wear it when he was alone.

"Do you always kidnap ladies who come to your opera house?" I asked. Erik chuckled, his voice shaking and the laugh forced, verifying that he had indeed been crying and he was upset.

"Only women who have an amazing voice." He said staring into space as if recalling an earlier memory.

"Why do you wear your mask?" I asked, not being able to deny myself an answer any longer. Erik clenched and unclenched his fists, and turned to me.

"Some questions are better left unanswered. Why are you green?"

"Some questions are better left unanswered." I retorted. Erik stared at me and sucked in the unmasked side of his cheek. My anger and curiosity mixed, creating a deadly concoction. Not being able to control my actions anymore, I reached out and tore off his mask, as fast as I could. He tried to stop me by grabbing my wrists, but I was too quick.

As soon as the mask came away, I flinched. Erik's face was horribly deformed. His flesh was puckered and twisted drum tight across his bones. Right eye socket was sunk in and his top lip was bloated. It didn't scare me though. If anything, I was far from scared. Any normal person would have fled from him on their first instinct. My first instinct was to comfort him. He was just like me. Misunderstood and rejected from the world because we look different from everyone else.

Erik swiped the mask from me, turned away and covered his face again, but it was too late. The damage was done.

"Erik . . ." As soon as his face was covered, he turned to me with his fists in the air. Crap. Now I've done it. My second instinct kicked in and I raised my hands in front of my face. Instantly, a green bubble materialized around me. Back in Oz, Galinda insisted I needed to know how to make bubbles. At first I was reluctant, but I'm glad they'll finally become of some use.