Midterms are DONE! WHOOOOO! Bad part; I no longer will be able to leave before noon everyday ): Oh well. More time to write now :P
amysmiles: Yes, Erik does have a belly button, lmao. And maybe reading on a couch would be safer xD
ShayShayCoolAy: Awkward Erik indeed :P Thank you!
13sapphire13: Thank you so much haha!
TheIdesofMarch: Yeah, when I first looked through all the POTO stories, I noticed a lot of them were like, a hundred words a chapter and all like, "OMG ITS THE PHANTOM." -haves sex next chapter-. The whole Erik being alive thing is still something I am thinking about in my head... So its not set it stone quite yet! Suggestions are always welcome :) And yes, they're speaking French; I just cant speak French worth a damn o.O
Take a risk once in awhile, it's good for you. Without risks, life is a meaningless pit of rules and order. If nobody took a risk once in awhile, there is reason to believe that we would have gone nowhere as a race.
Should man have never experimented, would we have anything? Half of the things that we have and use everyday are products of accidental experimentation or simple fixes with pure intentions. Without these people, going above and beyond to solve a problem or to make their life easier, we easily could never have progressed past the ice age (mentally).
Without risking failure, we simply cannot reap the benefits of success.
Abigail desperately wanted to play the organ. However, the knowledge that the Phantom was laying around somewhere on the ground, sleeping, made her quite hesitant. She didn't want to wake him; Abigail didn't know how often he slept.
Or ate, for that matter.
Abigail wondered how he survived down here. She made a mental note to ask him when he decided to appear to her again. For now, she sat in what felt like a couple inches of water. Her sweatpants lay abandoned a couple feet away from her.
She felt at peace with the water now; she had forgiven the gentle flow for nearly drowning her. It had been Abigail's fault after all. She smiled as she dug her toes into the soft mud, cupping water in her hands and pouring it over her hair. Abigail felt goose bumps rise on her neck as the cold water ran down her spine. It felt nice, almost as if she was washing away the experience.
After spending some quality time with the lake, she said goodbye to the cool water and found her pants. She wandered back over to the bed and took the towel that had been abandoned there, and slowly made her way over to the bathroom. After fiddling with the knobs, she managed to get the hot water running.
Abigail had not taken a shower in years. She had only a bathtub in her apartment, and this standing up business felt strange to her. It was awkward bending over and searching blindly for shampoo or body wash. She wanted her bathtub back. It had been the perfect size for her – she could stretch out her feet and just lie in bubbles forever. Abigail remembered she had actually fallen asleep in the tub one time; Doug had found her, much to both of their embarrassment. She knew that all of the bubbles had gone out by the time he stupidly came charging in.
The water began to run cold. She cursed at the showerhead, annoyed at its inability to keep hot water running. Stepping out, she dried herself and changed back into her previous clothes. Abigail deemed them her pajamas. She began to brush out the knots in her hair with the hairbrush she placed near the sink, along with her other things.
A knock came from the door.
"Yes?" she called out.
"Are you… decent?" came a cautious voice. Abigail couldn't help but be thankful that the Phantom did not come barging through doors.
"Fully clothed." Abigail replied, continuing the process of de-knotting.
She heard the door open hesitantly. Abigail felt the Phantom sneak around behind her and pause near the toilet.
"Would you… You know, leave?" he asked awkwardly.
"Gotta take a piss?" she asked, teasing.
"If you wouldn't mind, yes." She heard a slight bit of annoyance.
"I can't even see, so unless you're embarrassed that I would hear you-"
"Get out of my bathroom!" the Phantom screamed, pushing her outside and shutting the door behind her.
Abigail laughed to herself, continuing to brush her hair as she patiently waited. A couple minutes later, she heard the door open.
"God, that took forever. You must have really had to go." She commented, walking directly into him.
He moved Abigail off to the side as he walked past her, "I was not just using the bathroom!" he growled, "I shaved as well!"
"You shave?"
"I'm a man."
"Are you?"
Abigail heard an annoyed growl from across the room. She grinned to herself. Annoying the Phantom was much more fun than she had anticipated; much more fun than annoying Aimee or Doug.
A painful twinge went through her heart at the thought of Doug… and Aimee. She shook it off.
"Come here." The Phantom demanded. Abigail went to the sound of his voice. He was near the table.
After feeling around, she grabbed an apple from the food pile, took a bite, and replied, "Yeah?"
A pause.
"I'm over here."
Abigail walked closer to the voice.
"What?" she asked, getting slightly annoyed.
"Come sit with me." The Phantom said. She heard him pat the seat of the organ. Abigail walked over to it, felt at the seat, and slowly sat down. She wondered why he wanted her next to him. She squirmed nervously when nobody spoke. He sat there, unmoving. Abigail felt his eyes staring at her.
Abigail awkwardly took a bite out of her apple and swallowed. It made a large gulp.
"Do not eat at my organ." The Phantom suddenly said, ripping the food from her hand and tossing it aside.
"I'm hungry."
"You will eat later."
"I was eating now."
"And now you are not."
"Because you took my apple away!"
"I will take your life away if you do not stop talking!"
She stopped talking, and heard the Phantom sigh.
"Thank you." The Phantom said, regaining his composure, "Now, back to business."
Abigail waited. Nothing happened. She wanted to ask him what she was there for, but she definitely did not want to speak so soon. The last thing she wanted right now was to be brutally murdered.
"There, finished." The Phantom finally said. Abigail frowned.
"Finished what?"
"I wrote a song." He replied, shuffling some papers around, "I want you to help me play it."
Abigail fiddled her thumbs, "I can't read the music, you know."
"I know. I will read the notes to you, and you will play them." He stated simply.
Sadness overcame her. She didn't want someone to take the place of Doug so soon. He was the one who read her music, not an ominous voice in the dark that she hardly knew. For some reason she knew that he would become impatient with her rather quickly. Doug would go at her pace, repeating things whenever she needed him to with a gentle patience.
"I don't know." She said quietly.
"Why not? How did you learn before?"
"I had a friend read them to me."
"How is this any different?" he asked, agitated.
"It's just… I don't know. He normally read me the music."
A pause.
"I see." The Phantom said, no emotion, "Very well. Later then."
She heard him shuffle some pages around before he grew quiet again.
Abigail felt even more awkward now. There was really no point in sitting next to him. She was about to get up and leave, to do what she didn't really know, but stopped when she heard him speak.
"Would it make you… happier… if I brought the piano from the stage down here?" he asked, unsure.
A smile slowly grew on her face. While his organ was absolutely amazing, it definitely did not have the same tune as a normal piano. Playing piano pieces on an organ was very different, and often sounded messy. She knew that this would frustrate her in the future, so she nodded quickly to the Phantom.
"Yes, that would be amazing." She breathed. Abigail got up, the smile still plastered across her face.
"Abigail?" the Phantom asked quickly.
"Yeah?"
"Are… You are not… displeased being here, are you?"
She pondered this question. Was she happy here? She had not been here long. It was hard to say. She definitely was not here by choice, however. Did that mean she couldn't be happy? What made one place better to live in than the other? She felt solitude in this underground lair. Abigail desperately wanted to see her friends again. But… She was starting to almost have fun with the Phantom. It almost felt normal when she woke up here rather than her house. She was beginning to not expect Aimee or Doug storming through her door in the morning, yelling at the top of their lungs some sort of good morning.
"Ask me in a week." she shrugged, avoiding the question.
She heard the Phantom get up from the seat and casually pass her by, "Very well. I will retrieve the piano." He said as she listened to him climb onto the boat.
"Phantom?" Abigail called out to the darkness.
"What?" came a distant reply.
"What's your name?" Abigail risked, asking the night.
She heard the darkness shuffle around awkwardly. The night moved back toward her, took her chin and made her face him. As she looked into twilight, the constant veil surrounding her seemed to lift slightly. Abigail reached out and found a mask. She glided a finger across its edges, imagining what it looked like as she felt him tense up.
"Ask me in a week." Came his rough voice before disappearing into the gloom, leaving Abigail standing by herself.
Aimee and Doug walked together down the street, passing by the police car stationed outside of the Opera House. It had become almost a ritual for them; get a cup of coffee at eight, walk to the Opera House, see if anything had happened since the previous day, and then drive to Aimee's.
Doug sipped at his coffee in the car.
"Do you think they're going to find her?" Doug asked, nervous. It had been almost four days since they had last seen Abigail.
"I don't know." Aimee said, one hand on the wheel, the other holding onto her French vanilla coffee, "I'm sure they will do a better job than us, though." She said, giving him a reassuring smile.
"I feel we should be out there too." Doug said with a frown.
"We don't know what we're doing, Doug. And we need to make sure that we don't get in the way of the real cops."
"They don't even know where to start!"
"Neither do we!"
"Yes we do."
"Where?"
"The Opera House."
Aimee's eyes widened, "Doug! You said we can't go in there!" she said, panicking
"I know what I said!" Doug yelled back, "But it's better than nothing! I haven't been able to shake the fact that something might be in there. The cops don't know it because we didn't tell them. But what if we just sneak in one night? Nobody will know. Hell, if you two did it in broad daylight, I can get us in there at dusk."
"But what about the renovators?" Aimee asked nervously as she pulled into her driveway.
"They won't be there at night." Doug said smartly, opening the door of the car and getting out. Aimee followed, approached the door, and unlocked it. The two of them stepped inside the warm house, took off their jackets and shoes, and settled down on her living room couch. Aimee wore black solos with a bright pink t-shirt. Doug was wearing jeans and a dark blue long sleeved shirt.
Aimee had hundreds of songbooks laying around ranging from movies to plays. She picked up one labeled Phantom of the Opera, and began to read over the lines for the millionth time. Doug looked at the cover.
"When is your audition?" He asked politely.
Aimee smiled at him, "In a couple days."
"Do you think you're going to get the part of Christine?"
"I hope so!" Aimee replied, giddy with excitement, "I was planning on locking myself up in here until the audition, but with Abigail and all…"
"Yeah…"
An uncomfortable silence passed the two of them. They simultaneously drank from their coffee.
"Do you want to hear a song?" Aimee asked nervously, looking at him with a small smile. Her eyes seemed to brighten at the idea.
Doug shrugged, "Sure."
Aimee clapped her hands in glee, "Okay! I'll sing Masquerade!" She hopped off of the couch, grabbed a set of fans hanging around, and got into position, "And don't laugh! I'm practicing, so I might get the dance mixed up a bit!"
Doug laughed and nodded. Aimee coughed a little in preparation before looking at him expectantly, "I hope you will help me with the first part? I know you know it!"
Doug rolled his eyes, but started the song with her.
Misseur Andre!
Misseur Firmin!
Dear Andre what a splendid party!
The prologue to a bright new year!
Quite a night, I'm impressed.
Well one does ones best.
Here's to us!
A toast for the city!
What a pity that the Phantom can't be here!
Abigail squealed with glee at him singing. He did not admit it, but he had a rather lovely voice. She whipped the fans out and seductively wagged her eyebrows at him over the fan as she began to sing, him laughing.
Masquerade!
Paper faces on parade.
Masquerade!
Hide your face, so the world will never find you!
Masquerade!
Every face a different shade.
Masquerade!
Look around -
there's another
mask behind you!
Aimee spun around and danced as she sang, moving her fans across her body along with the rhythm, perfectly in beat. She jumped up on her coffee table and almost slipped right back off from her socks. Her arms flayed around for a second before regained her composure, and began to chant,
Flash of mauve!
Splash of puce!
Fool and king!
Ghoul and goose!
Green and black!
Queen and priest!
Trace of rouge!
Face of beast!
Faaces!
Take your turn.
Take a ride.
On a merry - go - round
In an inhuman race.
Doug clapped as she danced around on her coffee table, a grin plastered across his face all the while. He was having fun watching her; she was rather good. Aimee chanted the next verse, and Doug joined in, taking the part of Raoul as she approached it.
But who can name the face?
Abigail sang another part of the chorus, still dancing upon the table, practicing dancing with her fans, Doug singing along whenever she needed more than one voice with her.
He jumped up as it was time for Raoul and Christine's part. He gave a dramatic bow to Aimee, still standing on the coffee table. She giggled and took his outstretched hand, giving a small curtsey herself before jumping off of the table. Doug spun her around the living room before they began,
"Think of it, our secret engagement. Look, your future bride. Just think of it!" Aimee said, giggling as she hit Doug on the shoulder with her fan.
"Why is it secret? What have we to hide? You promised me." Doug replied, acting hurt.
"No, Raoul, please don't, they'll see."
"Well then let them see. It's an engagement, not a crime. Christine, what are you afraid of?" he said, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her close. He took her hand and held it to his face as they sang,
Let's not argue(Let's not argue)
Please pretend (I can only hope)
You will understand in time (I'll understand in time)
Doug joined in this time with the chorus, dancing with Aimee this time. They laughed as the two of them twirled about the room pulling each other closer and closer as they went along. They paused just before they began to sing the dramatic ending of the song before the Phantom's part. The two of them faced each other, Doug copying Aimee's dancing.
Masquerade!
Paper faces on parade
Masquerade! Hide your face so the world will never find you
Masquerade! Every face a different shade
Masquerade! Look around, there's another mask behind you
Masquerade! Buring glances,turning heads
Masquerade! Stop and stare at the sea of smiles around you
Masquerade! Grinnning yellows, Spinning reds
Masquerade! Take your fill, let the spectacle astound you.
The two of them stopped, gasping for breath as they finished the last note, and collapsed next to each other in a fit of laughter. It took awhile for them to regain their composure.
"Well, I think you'll do great." Doug said, grinning at her.
Aimee blushed slightly, "Thanks, Doug."
After spending almost an hour trying, and failing, at the task at hand, Erik was beginning to rethink his offer to bring the piano down to the lair. The piano weighed much more than he had originally anticipated. It was also quite fragile, which he discovered after almost destroying the piano when sliding it into the edge of a wall.
Erik sat down on the stool in frustration. He had waited for nearly an hour before the bumbling renovators had finally left for their break; looking around, they weren't doing that bad of a job. Of course he remembered the Opera House back in its original glory. They would come nowhere near what it used to be, but they were trying extremely hard. He gazed upon the statues and the newly painted walls. Some of the paintings were taken away to be restored, as well as many statues.
The Phantom didn't know what he was going to do once they finally finished it. Many people would be visiting the Opera House almost every day. It would make his life ten times more difficult, trying to keep people from snooping around and accidentally finding his hideout. He had successfully remained hidden for, how long? He couldn't remember. All Erik remembered was anger and loneliness before Abigail. But he felt so much more now. He felt happiness for what seemed like the first time.
He wanted to make her at least somewhat happy as he locked her up with him. At the thought, he turned back to the piano, and continued to push it along the passage. He got to an old dressing room (the name had long since faded, and he refused to acknowledge the past owner of the room, even in his own mind), and shoved the piano through the mirror. Erik almost cheered when it fit; a centimeter more and he would have had to break in the wall, and that would take awhile. There was no doubt as to whether or not he would do it.
After arriving at the boat, Erik wiped the sweat off of his brow and contemplated how to transfer it onto the floating object. Would it sink the boat? Maybe he should build a bigger boat. He shook his head at the thought. That would be far too tedious. Looking around, he saw a spare bit of wood. He placed it down on the ground and used it as a ramp to get into the boat.
Erik thanked whatever God that had been watching over him when the boat only sank a few inches. He began the slow process of rowing to the lair, checking the piano every ten seconds. As he neared his home, he distantly heard Abigail playing on the organ. He closed his eyes, letting the music fill him. It did not sound like any particular piece; he realized she was improvising. This seemed natural; she had spent most of her time on the piano, how would she know any organ songs?
The song felt content. It was not happy or sad, it was somewhere around the middle. At time the music would suddenly become very slow and depressing; however, it would be followed by great leaps of happiness, and back into relaxed. She sounded like baby getting excited at the discovery of her own two feet. He almost laughed as she attempted to implement the pedals with little success. He made a mental note on teaching her how to use them properly. But for now, he was happy just listening to her musical ramblings.
Erik almost didn't notice the boat gently hitting land when he arrived. He had been far to enthralled with the music. After quickly cleared his mind, ignoring her playing, he went to work on the piano. Erik took out the wooden plank that he took along and eventually got the piano down on the ground. It took awhile to maneuver around all of the small bumps and rocks in the ground, but he eventually got the piano next to the organ. Turning back to Abigail, Erik noticed that she was still playing, but much softer now for she had been listening to him.
"Is that the piano?" Abigail asked. He could tell she was holding back excitement.
Erik nodded. Realizing she couldn't see, he stepped over and said, "Yes."
Abigail stopped playing and gave a squeal of delight, "That's amazing!" she yelled, running into him in her attempt at getting to the piano. Erik chuckled under his breath as he helped her to sit at the piano. Abigail cracked her knuckles and began to play The Sting theme song, a happy little tune. She laughed as the cheery little notes rang off of the walls before stopping.
"This is in good condition for having been up there for god knows how long." She commented, hands in her lap, "Thank you!"
Erik smiled to himself, and placed a hand on her shoulder.
"Of course."
Several days later…
Aimee was about to pee herself. Why did she have to go first?
"Aimee, you're going to do great!" a girl said from behind her. Aimee couldn't remember her name, so she simply smiled weakly at her.
"Yeah, Aimee!" said Grace, one of her friends. They had been studying together for about a year now, but Aimee still did not feel as if they were very close.
"Thanks Grace." Aimee said, quickly fixing her hair in the mirror, "Okay. I'm ready."
Aimee pushed back her shoulders, lifted her head, and made her way onto the stage. She smiled at the judges in the seats, and stepped in front of the microphone.
"Hello… Uh, Aimee, yes?" came a voice from one of the three people in the audience.
"Hi, yes, Aimee here." Aimee said awkwardly.
"Yes, yes…" the woman repeated, brushing back a stray piece of black-grey hair as she scribbled something down. She seemed around her mid, late sixties.
"What are you going to be performing for us today?" the man asked next to her. He was early thirties, black hair, and a dark skin tone. He had a spunk in his voice. Aimee immediately liked him.
"Think of Me." Aimee said hesitantly.
"Very well." He said, "Go on. I'm assuming you are trying out for Christine?"
"Yes, sir."
Aimee coughed a little. She felt a strange bit of déjà vu as a random pianist began to play the song. Abigail's face, twisted with fear, popped into her mind. She quickly shook it off, concentrating.
Think of me, think of me fondly
When we've said goodbye
Remember me, once in awhile
Please promise me you'll try
Aimee couldn't help but see Abigail's face again. It began to haunt her as she sang. Guilt sprouted up within her, not knowing why. She didn't forget about Abigail, she thought of her every day!
Then you'll find that once again you long
To take your heart back and be free
If you'll ever find a moment
Spare a thought for me
Did she and Doug want to take their hearts from Abigail? She had been gone for nearly a week now, and things felt so much more different. Was that a good thing? Did they not want her there anymore? Did Aimee want Abigail back? What if she had died? Fear struck her, Abigail's terrified, helpless blind eyes searching the darkness blurred Aimee's vision as she sang the next couple verses.
Think of me, think of me waking
Silent and resigned
Imagine me trying too hard
To put you from my mind
If Abigail was still alive, did she think that Doug and her were going to save her? Had she given up hope by now? What if she was being tortured by someone? Was it really the Phantom she saw? Aimee's voice almost cracked at the thought.
She pulled through, managing to hit all of the notes perfectly at the end of the song. Aimee heard the two judges clapping for her, even the pianist had stood up and gave her a polite clap. She saw none of this. All Aimee saw was Abigail bleeding in a cage under the Opera House, whispering, "Aimee… Doug… Help me…"
"Excellent work, Aimee! Very well done, quite promising indeed!" said the older woman. Aimee shakily nodded, said a quick thank you and shuffled off of the stage. She sprinted out into the cold, wildly searching for a secluded area.
Aimee darted behind a large dumpster and proceeded to throw up violently. She shook her head and groaned as her stomach churned. They needed to find out where Abigail was. Her first step was to find Doug.
It took about ten minutes to drive over to his house. She knocked on the door; a couple moments later Aimee found herself face to face with Doug.
"Hey." Doug said.
"I know it's risky. But we need to find Abigail. Tonight."
"What?" Doug exclaimed, "Why tonight?"
Aimee looked at him sadly, "I can't get her out of my mind... It's as if shes haunting me. Waiting."
Doug frowned, but a mutual understanding passed between them. Abigail was consuming them. The police were getting nowhere. They had to prepare.
Tonight was the night.
Eeee!
TheIdesofMarch brought up a question that I thought I should share. Everyone is indeed speaking French... I'm sorry I never mentioned it before!
Next chapter may be a little bit, I have nothing else written past this lol. Normally I have at least one chapter written in advance.
REVIEW! Tell me how you liked/hated it! I want your opinions/ideas!