A/N: Thank you to all my reviewers (and to the anonymous M.B.) for checking in and reading my work! I hope you'll enjoy this next one, and I can assure you in the next update, you will see "the Opera Ghost" ;) Don't forget to let me know what you think, and I'll see you next time!
Chapter Seven – To Sing or Not to Sing…
Melody gawked at Chevalier, her jaw hanging open as she stared at him, horrified at the news. Ben had never mentioned any of this to her or Rose…this had to be made up! Still, he was the owner of the establishment, and he made whatever choices he desired. "That's…that's not fair!" she hissed, guilt pricking at her heart. "You can't do that to Rose! She deserves a chance to try – she's amazing! She's worked so hard and wants to do all of this so badly-!"
"Then surely you will not deny her that chance and simply attend our lessons," Erik Chevalier answered back sternly, standing erect as he clasped his hands behind his back.
"You awful man!" she snapped, unshed tears stinging her eyes. "How dare you use my sister as leverage against me?! How can you force me to do something I don't want to do…something I'm no good at-?!" Her body froze, her words dying on her tongue as he placed his fingertips over her lips and shook his head.
"You keep insisting you have a terrible voice and that you cannot sing, and yet, I haven't heard a peep from you. I should like to judge that for myself, se il vous plait."
The sensations of fury and being star struck assaulted her, making her hands curl into fists. As a tear of frustration leaked out of her eye, he moved his hand to wipe it away, only to have her jerk away from him and storm into the room, tossing her camera into her bag before setting it on a lonely chair.
"Melody? Are you ok?" Rose asked, stunned to see her sister behaving like a petulant child.
"Fine, just fine," she gritted through her teeth, wishing she didn't have to look at Erik Chevalier as he shut the door after them and walked over to the piano.
"Come closer, mademoiselles," he called to them, waving his hand at them to move before sitting on the bench and flexing his long fingers. "Let's begin with some warm ups, shall we? There are some water bottles under the piano if you girls need it, just so you know. Let's start."
Melody inhaled deeply, squeezing her eyes shut as she fought not to reach over and smack the smartypants off of his bench. Choosing instead to glare at the piano or stare off at a wall, she surrendered to Chevalier's wishes and began to sing her scales with Rose. Before she knew it, time had flown by and the three of them were singing a song from "Les Miserables" in beautiful harmony.
"Very well done," Erik complimented them. "However, if I may…Rose, back on this measure – yes, here – could you try an octave higher?"
"I'll try," she nodded, waiting for her cue as Erik played through the line once more. She sang with the delicacy of a harp, her voice piercing the air magnificently as she let the note ripple out of her throat.
"Perfect," Erik clapped, causing the girl to blush. "Now you, Melody."
"Me? I can't hit that note," she shook her head. "I haven't tried anything like that in…almost four years."
"But Mel, even Professor Collins said your voice had a great range," Rose insisted.
"The note, mademoiselle," Erik repeated, relentless. "I shall start from the top of the page."
"I can't," she glared.
"You can," he snapped, startling the two of them. "I won't hear any more of this nonsense. Now sing!"
Melody nearly jumped out of her skin upon hearing Chevalier's calm voice transform into a furious demand, reminding her of the ghostly figure in the secret passage. "In my dream, Erik had the Ghost's golden eyes…why does he remind me so much of him…?"
"From the top," Erik said coolly, his fingers tapping the ebony and ivory keys as he nodded at her to begin.
She felt as though she were on the same stage from so many years ago, her throat suddenly dry. Closing her eyes, she forced herself to think of the words, imagining her baby sister standing on the stage of the Palais Garnier and earning an astounding ovation. "For Rose…do it for Rose." Inhaling deeply, she let the words flow from her mouth, anticipation twisting her heart as she got closer to that dreaded note. She continued, on and on, until…
A pierce, trill sound filled the room, curling out of Melody's throat, sliding over her tongue, and slipping past her lips, ringing in the air above them. It was as though a canary had cried out for its soulmate, or a dewdrop disturbing a peaceful pond. She gasped as shock took hold of her, her hand rising to grip her throat. "Oh…oh my gosh!"
"Melody," breathed Rose, gazing at her in awe. "That was unbelievable! It sounded…it sounded…!"
"Beautiful…"
The two girls looked to Erik, whose eyes were upon Melody with a look of one who had found the meaning of life. Those eyes bore into her soul, a look of wonder and bliss shaking her to her core. "It was perfect."
"Oh, oh dear!" the auburn-haired female gasped as she finished the song, ending on a piercing note. "I've ruined the song, haven't I-?"
"Mon Dieu, that was…perfect!" the masked man insisted, his head whipping around to face her.
"Erik, it couldn't have been-" she shook her head modestly.
"It was," he insisted, standing up as he envisioned her voice as a soft, golden wisp of smoke twirling above him. "Your voice is not like Christine's, it's not operatic, it's true…but it is strong, warm, clear…like a bell." He reached into the air, his fingers curling around the imaginary wisp as he closed his eyes in bliss. "…it filled Erik's soul, Angelique…"
"Mel, you've got to try out for the Showcase, you've just got to!" Rose's voice snapped her out of her trance, making Melody shake her head as she blinked her eyes several times. She noticed that Erik, also, had the same look of bewilderment, only furthering her curiosity and insistence that he, too, saw these odd memories. "So that's the girl's name…the one who's always with the Phantom of Leroux's novel…Angelique…who is Angelique?"
"You will consider it, won't you?!" Rose pleaded, taking her sister's hands into her own. "Monsieur Chevalier, don't you think she could join?"
"Most assuredly," Erik nodded, finally out of his stupor. Closing the lid of the piano keys, he stood up and took a step over to the girls. Looking into Melody's large brown eyes, he said, "I do hope you'll at least consider auditioning…of course, you'll still need to attend lessons, however…I have the sense you're a fast learner."
"I…" she stammered, blushing like a schoolgirl. "I'm…just a photographer-"
"You are anything you wish to be," he informed her, taking one of her hands into his own and planting a kiss on it. "Tell me you didn't enjoy that rush as you sang out?"
Melody ducked her head as she looked away, unwilling to admit defeat. It was true – she loved that sensation as she sang, the feeling of freedom and beauty intermingled to create that incredible sound called music. She missed it – oh, how she missed it! She didn't realize how much she had wanted to do this, how strong her passion was for it. Suddenly, she wanted to be on stage, to show Dolores that she could sing, that she might even be amazing…
"I…I don't know," she shook her head.
Rose wrapped her arm around her sister, embracing her from her side. "If you told Monsieur Chevalier what happened, I'll bet he can help you get past your fears, Mel."
"Just what happened?" Erik asked, raising an eyebrow at the two. "This doesn't have to do with Miss Casales, does it?"
Melody felt her skin flush red with shame and embarrassment, wishing her sister had remained silent. "Rose, no-!"
"Tell him," she frowned stubbornly. Looking up at her instructor, Rose asked, "Could I be excused? I think it's best if I left you alone for now."
"Of course, you're dismissed," he nodded, bowing his head and smiling. "You are a wonderful singer, Miss Rose. I look forward to our next lesson."
"Likewise," she smiled back. Giving Melody's shoulder and encouraging squeeze, she quickly left the room, leaving the two of them behind in awkward silence.
Melody refused to move or look at him, her heart still racing wildly, her skin still warm from embarrassment. Sending his hand upon her back, she tensed, immediately feeling him remove his hand from her. "My apologies," he mumbled. She wondered why he sounded like he came from another time when he spoke, why he acted like a gentleman when it came to her…
"Won't you sit down?" he asked, offering her a seat on the piano bench. She reluctantly did so, reaching for her hair and gripping it tightly before releasing her curly locks and clasping her hands tightly on her lap. "…just what happened that has made you so adamant in never sharing your voice?" he asked tenderly, making her wish she was prettier, smarter, stronger, better…
"I was humiliated by Dolores during a performance in college," she answered at last, her voice no more than a whisper. "Dolores came late into the school year, her family was wealthy…she hated me with a passion I couldn't understand…I think it was because I wouldn't listen to her or let her have what she wanted."
Erik eyes dimmed at this, his lips pressed together into a thin line as he listened to her.
"At the end of the semester was a contest we had to participate in to get a grade," she continued, her eyes filling with tears again that day. "I was so excited…we didn't have to win to pass, we just had to perform…I used to drink tea before I'd go on stage to soothe my nerves and help my throat...but I think she must have gotten something into it, an herb probably, and it make my throat go so dry that I could barely talk when I walked out. I was petrified…and then she barged in and started to sing. I could see the judges and audience, how they smirked when I failed and cheered when she came onto the stage…she and her family bought the judges and got friends and family to sit in the audience to sway their opinions about the contestants…" A sob broke loose from her mouth, her hands moving up to cover her face. Erik stopped her, pulling out a handkerchief that seemed to have come from a long time ago and dabbed at her eyes, offering it to her after he had cleaned her cheeks. "You don't know what it's like to be…humiliated," she wept, clutching the piece of cloth he had given her. "The worst part was being betrayed…my boyfriend at the time came out from the other side of the stage and joined her, kissing her in front of everyone…he had been seeing her and lying to me that whole time…I was miserable for weeks before I got over it and moved on…but I never wanted to sing again…I didn't want to relive the hurt…those awful memories…" Rubbing her knuckles to her eyes, she shook her head vehemently. "You'd never understand, though, what it's like to be used like that…to be humiliated and betrayed in one night in front of hundreds of strangers…"
"I think you'd be surprised," he voice startled her, strained with anger and sorrow. She raised her head to see his own eyes filled with tears, though she felt somehow that he wept for himself as much as he did for her. "I, too, have had an unpleasant experience, Melody…it took time for me to heal, also…but I am truly sorry for what happened to you. I understand now why you were so determined not to sing again…but I ask you, beg you…" Taking her hands once more into his own, he gazed into her eyes and pleaded, "Don't let this stop you from doing what you love. At least keep attending my lessons…I won't force you to sing and I won't push the matter of the Showcase any further…and I'm sorry for making you attend today…but please, don't give up singing…do that small favor for yourself."
She felt her breath hitch as he spoke kindly to her, igniting a spark inside of her that she had never felt before. The urge to lean closer and kiss him tickled at her brain, but she quickly shook that off. What on earth was wrong with her?! Still…she had never heard anyone so sincere and selfless…how was he able to make her want to sing once more, to release all the pain and hope she had been holding back for so long?
"…I'll think about," she said at last, goosebumps rising on her skin as she heard him chuckle.
"That's all I ask of you, my dear," he smiled wryly, taking her hand and kissing it yet again. "I believe I've tortured you enough for one day. Go, take photos. I hope I receive an answer from you tomorrow." Rising from the bench, Erik offered his hand to Melody and helped her up, opening the door for her to leave. "If you need me for anything at all-"
"And just what exactly would she need from you, Erik? Hmm?"
The pair found themselves looking at a man in his early forties, his dark brown hair slicked back while his narrowed golden-brown eyes twinkled sinisterly at them. Dressed in a tailored suit with an elegant cane at hand, he smirked at Erik. "Well, well, Erik, I had no idea you were garnering a young lady's company! I never imagine that possible, all things considered."
Erik's body tensed at the sight of the man, his eyes cold as ice. "Monette. What are you doing here?"
"Monette?" she thought the name sending her into trance-like state.
"My grandmother was the one who gave you and your accursed father the deformity...the one you now possess."
"You're bluffing-!" The two men glared at each other, one masked, the other exposed, both with glittering gold eyes and utter contempt for one another.
"We have the same dark hair, even our eyes are similar...of course, yours looks like something from a demon of Hell! No one's eyes glow like that in the dark! Your father was supposed to have died when he ran away...my grandmother was careless and tired, so she ran away to start a new life. She had hoped that Erik would perish, but found out just before she died that he thrived...that his bloodline continues!"
"I came to see how things were going with the auditions, of course!" he laughed merrily. Melody fought back the urge to shiver, his voice reminding her of a snake's. Something about this man was extremely wrong, and she wished he would leave soon. "Now, where are my manners? Bonjour, mademoiselle," he said sweetly, taking her hand and kissing it, making her stomach churn. "I am Michel Monette, an old family friend of Erik's."
"You are not a friend of the family, nor are you a friend of mine," Erik snarled, taking a step towards him as he pulled Melody's arm out of Monette's grasp. "You are not welcome here, especially not now."
"Do you mean during these tryouts, or where you about to insinuate something with the lady?" Michel snickered, enjoying how Erik clenched his fists in order to avoid punching him. "Don't worry, Erik, I'll be taking my leave now…just answer me this. Has the Phantom been causing you problems?"
Erik glared at him, a small smirk growing on his lips. "Just a few little mishaps as per usual…not to worry, though. These shenanigans will stop once and for all soon-"
"Oh, yes, the 'Opera Ghost' will stop them," laughed Michel, mocking the second specter as he rolled his eyes. "By the by, I hope all your secrets are kept under lock and key, Erik. You wouldn't want anyone to get a hold of them now, would you?"
Melody bit her tongue, though she wished she could start asking questions that very moment. Still, she pitied Erik, seeing how he fought to constrain himself against this man's obvious public attacks.
"Get. Out."
Melody's eyes widened at the sound of those two words, the same amount of venom and anger dripping from his mouth. Her mind flashed with the vision of her confronting the Opera Ghost in the passageway, ordering her out as his eyes glowed like embers. "My dream…the words he just said…he must be-!"
"Soon, it shall be me ordering you out, Erik, just you wait," Michel taunted him, sniffing impudently at Chevalier. "I can still scarcely believe you run the place, let alone own it-"
"Stop it!" Melody snapped, startling the two men. "Erik is a gentleman and a brilliant man! Don't you dare put him down-!"
"It appears you have a little cheering section," Michel chuckled, giving the girl a disapproving look. "Pretty women should be seen and unheard, my dear…you're a feisty one." His frown turned into a smirk as he glanced to Erik and back to Melody. "…still, an independent woman is valuable in this day and age." Melody thought she was going to puke on the spot. Was he assessing her for his own personal use in front of her?!
Erik lunged at the man, gripping the lapels of his coat aggressively as he snarled, "You keep away from her, and from my family. Now get out!"
"Easy, Erik…you wouldn't want to let your bad side show like you did in India…would you?" He stumbled back as Erik released him with a growl, fixing his clothes before nodding his head to them. "Until we meet again."
Erik watched Monette leave, his whole frame as tense as a twisted spring, ready to be released. It wasn't until he felt a soft, hesitant hand on his arm that he bothered to remember that Melody was still standing there. The look of concern and admiration in her eyes seem to vaporize most of the rage he felt from Monette's attack, his body relaxing only to have his blood race as he realized she was practically clinging to his arm.
"Erik, are you ok?" she asked, her eyes staring into his own.
"I…yes," he stammered, unused to being left speechless. "…why did you stand up for me?"
"Because you did the same for me with Dolores, and I know what it's like to be attacked," she admitted, blushing as he placed his hand over hers.
"…thank you," he said at last, a small smile showing on his face.
Glancing back in the direction Monette had walked off in, she made a face of disgust. "Who was that creep? He gave me the heebie-jeebies."
Erik's smile vanished as he was reminded of his fury, causing him to also glance down the hall. "Michel Monette. He runs a winery and brewery, and he's extremely wealthy. He enjoys attending performances here-"
"And tormenting you, clearly," she noted.
"He shouldn't have said anything, not with you here," he growled, pulling away from her. His eyes widened as he felt her grip on him tighten, making him turn back to face her.
"Erik, tell me I'm not crazy," she pleaded, finally caving in. "Tell me…tell me that you see them, too."
"See what-?"
"The flashbacks," she confessed. "Those little moments that take place in another time, with people that shouldn't be real. People who dress in beautiful Victorian-era outfits, with a man in a mask who goes around with a girl who has red-brown hair and beautiful grey-blue eyes…please, Erik, I see you blinking and shaking it off at the same time I do…I've been getting these since I got here in Paris…just tell me the truth!"
She watched as he stared at her, his brows furrowing just before he looked away and closed his eyes, holding his breath in contemplation. Despair filled her instantly, but as she began to let her hands slide off of his arm, he grabbed her hands and faced her, his nose nearly touching her own.
"Listen to me, Melody…there are things connected to the Garnier and my family that would seem absurd if anyone else knew about them. I'm not entirely certain how or why you receive these memories, but I ask that you be patient. In the meantime, keep away from both the ghosts and any trapdoors you find here. It's not safe."
"Really? I couldn't tell when that stagehand was thrown off the catwalk by that hooded maniac," she scoffed, pulling away. "I don't want consolations, Erik – I want answers!"
"I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to tell you anything right now, Melody," he frowned. "But you must trust me…I will do all that I can to remedy the situation and to give you answers in due time." Running his fingers through his hair, he heaved a tired sigh. "Until then, please, do not ask questions and do not tell anyone, especially those closest to you."
Biting her tongue, she merely nodded her head, excusing herself before she walked towards the main stage. Her eyes glanced over the door to the dressing room that contained the mirrored passage, sparking her determination once more. "There is no way I'm sitting put until then, Erik…I'm going to figure this out with or without your help!"
~OG~
It proved to be very difficult keep anything from her family, especially when Riley was so nosy, Ben wanted to know about the lesson, and Rose wanted to hear about whether or not she and Erik were romantically interested in one another.
"Dear God, no!" Melody scowled, blushing all the while. "Of course we're not interested in each other-!"
"But the way he held your hand and looked at you and said your name!" Rose insisted as they sat on Melody's bed, gossiping about what had gone on that day. "He called you by your first name with no 'miss' or 'mademoiselle' to make it formal!"
"So what if Erik did-?"
"Ooh! See?! You're calling him by his first name!" she giggled. "You like each other!"
"Oh, for the love of Pete!" Melody groaned, covering her face with both hands.
"This is great!"
"No, it's not, and we don't like each other! We don't even know each other!" Her frown turned into a grin as she realized something she had seen once she was dismissed. "Now, you and Tom Sawyer-Garcia on the other hand…" She laughed as she saw her sister blush madly, tucking her honey-blonde locks behind her ear. "Now that is confirmation that you two like each other," she stated. Her brows furrowed as she began to mull a peculiar thought that came to mind. "Isn't it weird, Rose, how your boyfriend has a fictional character's name?"
"He's not my boyfriend," she argued, pouting at her sister before realizing what she had asked. "Wait, what do you mean?"
"Think about it. His name is Tomas Sawyer-Garcia. Shorten it and you have Tom Sawyer," Melody explained, pursing her lips as she thought about the people they had met. "The man who runs the Garnier is named after the 'Phantom of the Opera' and there are not one, but two ghosts running amuck! Also, there's the friends of the Chevalier family, one of them being 'Chagny', and we live in the 'de Chagny' estate-!"
"Mel, what are you trying to say?" Rose asked, her brows furrowing in confusion.
Melody leaned back against the pillows on her bed, clasping her hands together as she thought a moment. "…these are all literary characters we're familiar with…what if the stories we grew up on aren't stories…what if they were real?"
Rose gaped at her, stunned by the notion. "You can't possibly mean-?"
"How else would any of this make sense?!" Melody cried, placing her hands on either side of her head. "The more I'm here, the more I seem to be losing my mind!" Erik Chevalier's face flashed through her mind, making her face burn with blush yet again. "To think I actually let him talk me into it…"
"Let who talk you into what?" Rose asked, raising an eyebrow. Her eyes widened as she realized what her sister meant, her smile returning. "Will you sing, Mel?! Will you audition-?"
"I don't know about auditioning, but…I do want to keep taking lessons," Melody confessed. She truly meant it, part of the reason being that she wanted to snoop for answers after the lessons and the other part being that she secretly liked being close to Erik…he made her soul want to sing out so that he might notice her…there was just something magnetic about him…
"Oh, Melody, I'm so glad to hear that!" Rose gushed, embracing her elder sister. "I knew you'd change your mind! Isn't Mr. Chevalier wonderful?!"
"He sure is something else," she murmured, hugging her sister back. "He sure is…"
~OG~
"Well done, ladies. You continue to amaze me," Erik beamed at them, closing the piano key cover the following day. "I believe your troop needs you, Miss Rose."
"Thank you," she smiled, excusing herself before hurrying out the door to find Tom and the others. "See you later, Mel!"
Erik turned his attention to the second sister, remaining still in her place by the piano, wringing her hands in indecision. "Is something the matter, mademoiselle?" he asked courteously, rising from the bench and walking over to her.
Refusing to look at him for the moment, she noted coolly, "I see we're back to formalities."
He blinked a moment before he realized what she meant, a crooked smile growing as his lips as he chuckled and ran his fingers through his hair. "I apologize for yesterday. Monette is one of the few people that gets my feathers ruffled." Noting how she nodded vaguely, her eyes dim, he reached for her shoulder but stopped himself. "…if you are all right with the idea of me calling you by your first name when it's the two of us, I certainly wouldn't mind."
She felt her face become red once more as she dared to glance over at him, seeing him smile sincerely at her. Returning the gesture slowly, she nodded, "I'd like that…Erik."
He closed his eyes a moment, enjoying the sound of his name as she spoke it. Heaving a sigh, he fixed his tie and asked, "Is something bothering you? You didn't leave when I stated the lesson was over."
"I…I thought about what you said and…" She swallowed hard, her hands clasped so tightly that her knuckles went white. "…do you…do you really think I can do this? The auditions and Showcase, I mean."
His eyes softened as he placed his hand over hers and said gently, "With all my heart. A voice like yours could astound the world."
"…I want to audition," she confessed. "But I'm…I'm still scared."
Placing his hands on either shoulder, he made her turn to face him. "It's all right to be frightened…but the fact that you finally admit you want this and you're willing to try it…that shows you're dedicated, it shows your passion." His smile widened as he took her hand and asked, "May I?" She nodded, hoping the entire time that he would repeat the gesture. Kissing her hand, he added, "I had hoped you would change your mind. Your stubborn brother had the paperwork filled out for you and asked me to hold onto it. I just need your signature so I can stamp it and make it official. Will you come with me to the office?"
Nodding her consent, Melody followed Erik out of the room and into the hall. Once again, she eyed the room with the mirror and secret passage, her mind made up. Holding her breath, she continued on in silence with Chevalier until they arrived to the manager's office, watching him rummage around his desk before he pulled out a set of papers. "Somehow, I'm not surprised he went ahead and filled this out," grimaced Melody. "He's going to get an earful from me tonight."
"Yes, but he'll also be insufferably smug and delighted when he finds out you've agreed to do this," Erik smirked, waiting for her to finish reading the fine print and signing the slips. "I'm confident you'll do well, Melody."
"Thank you," she answered quietly, handing the papers back. She felt her stomach twist into a knot as he stamped the required slips and displayed them to her before putting them away. "So, now what?"
"Well, you're still needed to take photographs, however, after lunch, I suggest you get started with your new troop. I'm sure they've already picked out a routine and song, so they'll get you accustomed to it in no time. I know that Rose and Tom will help you with everything…and ignore Miss Casales," he warned her. "She is nothing to you now, do you understand? You aren't doing this for anyone except for yourself. Enjoy the experience and don't let her belittle you."
A swell of gratitude and pride filled her as she listened to him, nodding once in agreement. "…thanks," she said, her throat tight and dry suddenly.
With a wave of his hand, he motioned for her to go. "You're free to go now. I've got some business to attend to if you'll excuse me."
She bid him goodbye before walking out, returning the way she came before checking over her shoulder to make she hadn't been seen of followed. As excited and wonderstruck as she was, she wasn't going to give up her insatiable curiosity. Guilt poked at her side as she reached for the forbidden door. "Sorry Erik, but I'm not going to sit around and wait for answers," she whispered, testing the knob only to find it locked. "It makes sense…they can't have people poking their heads in…still, it's an old lock…" Having considered this the night before, she pulled out a bobby pin and began to stick it inside. "C'mon, it can't be much harder than trying to break into the cookie cabinet at home," she muttered, grinning as she heard a distinct 'click'. "Cliché? Yes. Does it still work? Hell, yes." Checking her surroundings once more, she bumped her side against the door as she had done so days ago and slipped into the room before placing the useful pin back into her pocket. Shutting the door after her, she found herself back in the dusty, covered room, the mirror before her concealed once more by the ancient cloth.
Inhaling deeply, she strode up to the item and gently tugged the fabric off, waiting for the dust to settle before reaching on her tiptoes and finding the switch once more. As the mirror opened before her, she pulled out her cellphone and turned on the light. Placing the stool back in place to block the mirror, she dared to enter the passage once more, her determined brown eyes scanning the darkness.
"Opera Ghost, here I come."