Hey, sorry its late, I said on my profile it would be today rather than yesterday due to an overload of shit going on. Again, if I don't update on Wednesday, check my profile and I will have some sort of reason, and then a definite update day there. I hope you enjoy this chapter! It's a bit shorter, but that's because the next chapter is like... SUPER important... -wink-
I am a little disappointed in lack of reviews for the last chapter by the way...
Panic at the Epicness: Yes, Doug has taken quite a turn for the worse. And I had that ending planned for quite some time! I just was unsure as to where it was going to be put in hehe.
PhantomFan01: Hahaha, nobody likes Doug xD
13sapphire13: Yes, Erik has quite a thick skull. Someone needs to tell him the truth.
RedDeathLvr: Hurr is moar! :D
SammiRichGurl: You should be very, very worried about Doug's mental state. I didn't want to make it less than obvious though. I wanted it to be quite clear, and slightly humorous.
Life is never what it seems to be. When life, for lack of better terms, "sucks", things will always get better. When you hit rock bottom, you have nowhere to go but up towards the heavens. However, the opposite also stays true; whenever you float among the clouds, you always will end up falling over towards the earth. It is a rather vicious cycle with some ups lasting longer than the downs, and vice versa. One can only pray to have their final moments flying with the birds, happy and free.
To be happy. What a funny expression. People always assume they are happy, but are they really? What does it feel like to be truly, deeply happy? Do we know what it feels like at all? Does this life offer true happiness? Few people have achieved pure happiness.
Happiness is not a small feeling for a few hours. It's not when you receive an A on a test, or when you get a gift that you have always wanted. It's not when you find a ten dollar bill in your pocket, nor is it when you are doing some activity you enjoy. To be completely and utterly happy, there are several things you must achieve or consider beforehand.
First, you must have money. To have money is to not have worry of basic necessities, not only of food, water, and shelter, but of the requirements that this day and age has imposed upon us. This includes, but is not limited to: taxes, bills, small fees.
Second, you must be either happily employed or happily retired. If you do not enjoy what you do, you will never be happy, period.
Third, you must be in a situation that you desire. If you are living in China and do not like the country, there is no reason to be happy. Move somewhere else. This also refers back to the money aspect of happiness; you must have money in order to move.
Fourth, you must be in love.
This is perhaps the most complicated of all of the requirements, as well as the hardest to attain. Anyone can get money and a job and a proper living situation. Few achieve love. However, let us take a step back and examine this word in order to properly define it.
An ordinary dictionary's definition of love is the following: a profoundly tender, passionate affection for another person.
All of this is true. However, it does not fully explain what love truly is. It is not just a feeling for someone else. It is absolute knowledge, knowledge that many cannot comprehend, that the person that they are with completely and utterly understands them, and they understand that person. Love is not beautiful or calm. Love is an absolute and utter disaster. And yet, it is a wonderful, astonishing disaster. Many envy those who are in love. Those in love envy the "free".
Why is this a requirement for happiness then? Why would it be important to be in this painful predicament, to be attached to someone so tightly that you cannot rid yourself of them?
A simple answer may be used for this.
Love is a miracle. A horrible, horrible miracle. Everyone must go through it's pain and suffering in order to know what true happiness is. You must see the shadows in order to realize how bright the light really is.
Abigail felt the bright, glaring ball of gas warm her skin. She was on top of the Opera House, basking in the sunlight. She had finally won Erik over.
Today's lesson: learn to love the sun.
Abigail felt Erik's tense body next to hers. He was stiff and uncomfortable, his awkwardness shining almost as brightly as the sun itself.
"It's so hot. I do not like this." Erik moaned.
"It's not hot, its normal temperature. It's only seventy degrees."
"I'm sweating. This is disgusting."
"Well, you've been cooped up in that chilly cave of yours for your entire life, what do you expect? A change in temperature is exactly what you need as your first step towards re-integration."
"Re-integration into what?"
"Life."
"Ah, yes. Of course." He said uneasily.
"You'll be fine," Abigail said with a smile, grabbing his hand, "people will love you."
"I don't love me."
"I do."
He didn't respond, but slightly tightened his grip on her hand. Abigail ignored his sweaty palm.
A few minutes passed.
"Why is it so bright?"
"It's the sun Erik. It brings warmth and light to us. The sun is essentially a large, flaming ball of gas thousands of miles away."
"Really, now? How is it the wind simply does not blow it away if it is just gas?"
"It's in space. There is no wind in space. Besides, anything that gets close to it would just burn away."
"Why don't we burn away?"
"Because we're too far away from it."
"But we can feel it."
"I know. Earth is at a perfect distance from the Sun so that light and heat are in the best conditions for life to be created."
He questioned things for almost an hour with Abigail patiently answering as many questions as her knowledge could allow. She laughed at his foolish questions, baffled at how much knowledge that Erik had missed while being trapped inside his little hell cave. She realized he would need to be caught up with everything before she could introduce him to society. But how would she even begin to tell people of him? How did one tell the world that an assumed fictional character was not only real, but alive, hundreds of years after he was thought to have lived?
A thought struck her. Was there not going to be people going to the Opera House soon? The workers were practically done with the Opera House, and she knew that Aimee was going to be practicing there. Maybe she could get him to attend the very first play with her? Afterwards, she would bring him out for all to see. Yes, yes! This was a perfect idea.
"Erik, I want to see the play."
"What play?" he asked, confused.
"The Phantom of the Opera, the first play that will be performed in the Opera House. "
"Ah. Yes. Of course…" he said nervously.
"And I want to introduce you to people afterwards."
"What?"
"I know we have a lot to work on, and its it only in like, a month or something, but I think we can get this to work."
"Abigail…"
"Erik, you said yourself that you wanted to come back into reality! Well, here it is. I'm helping you."
She heard him sigh in defeat.
"Very well, Abigail."
Abigail laughed, giddy with excitement. They had so much to do! And oh, so very little time… However, baby steps were required. The list was far too long to tackle all at once. They returned to the inner depths of the Opera House.
Abigail leapt out of the boat and skipped towards the center of the room. She twirled around, unsure of where to begin. Science, literature, math, history, manners, talking habits, clothing, behavior, music… What to do? Abigail clapped her hands together, mentally preparing for the challenge.
Over the next two weeks, nothing but progress was made with Erik. Abigail introduced him to the rest of Disney ("It is physically impossible for a dog to have a hundred and one puppies at the same time.", and Harry Potter ("He DIED? What?"). Afterwards, the two watched movies ("Rosebud was the sled?") and read the most famous novels ("Why does Frankenstein's creation not have a name?"). Abigail wanted to read and watch more, but they simply had no time.
She made him listen to the progression of music over the ages ("This is not music. This is sound."), as well as updated his knowledge of science ("The moon is getting closer? What madness is this?" "Photosyn-what?"). She told him all of the history she could recall from the 1800s to present time ("People are mindless. Pure idiocy."). Surprisingly enough, his mathematical skills were far beyond her own. Erik seemed to have subconsciously taught himself when he transformed into a mad genius.
About a week into their lessons, the cast of the play began to practice. It took all of Abigail's strength to not march upstairs and find Aimee. She wasn't sure what she would do if she did end up finding her. Their last confrontation was less than cheerful.
But for now, Abigail was happy. She felt cheerful teaching Erik, and she could tell Erik enjoyed learning. Abigail could almost sense his mind growing with knowledge, and she felt that after the two weeks, he would be able to have a logical conversation with someone on the street and not run into a topic he was clueless about. This brought her to behavior lessons.
"Okay Erik," she said rubbing her hands together, "Pretend I'm a stranger."
"Very well." He said, standing a few feet away from her.
"Let's say I'm walking on the street and accidentally bump into you." She described, walking over to him and bumping her arm against his, "What do you do?"
"Ask them why on Earth they would do such a thing."
"No, no, it was an accident."
"Your point?"
"It's polite to let them apologize, and you accept their apology and keep walking."
"They just ran into me. I can't simply let them get away with it, Abigail. What if it was intentional? What if they are mocking me?"
Behavior lessons went far less smoothly than the educational ones. His rough, coarse attitude towards people resulted in an abnormal amount of violent reactions to situations.
"Someone cuts you in line in the coffee shop."
"I murder them."
"Stop joking around."
"I'm not joking."
"…"
Abigail realized it would take more than a few days to change his attitude. For now, she would just have to accompany him wherever he went in order to avoid him committing homicide.
After weeks of lessons and practicing, Abigail and Erik found themselves strolling around the town. His arm was wrapped over her shoulders, steadily pulling her closer whenever she moved to far away.
"Abigail, I feel… Odd." Erik stated, turning a corner of the street, heading to an ice cream parlor down the road.
"What do you mean?" she asked casually, the wind blowing her hair in front of the sunglasses she couldn't see. Abigail wore white jeans, a yellow tube top with a black cross necklace. Her sunglasses were a bit larger than necessary, and she knew it. They were white around the edges, and she had a pair of yellow sandals on.
"I'm not sure. I have been happy before, only with you, but I feel more happy than normal. It's odd." He replied. Abigail tried to picture the outfit he had described to her before they snuck out of the busy Opera House: a baby blue long sleeve shirt with blue jeans, and your average brown shoes. He told that today, he hid his face with his normal black hat tilted downwards, as well as a few bandages stuck over the deformities, just in case.
"I'm glad. It's a good odd, Erik."
"I don't know what to make of it."
"Embrace it."
"How?" he asked, pulling out his brand new wallet as they walked into the ice cream parlor. Abigail heard a long line in front of them.
"Live in it. Take it in. Don't push away from it. Are you truly happy?"
"I'm not sure. What does it feel like to be truly happy?"
"I wouldn't know," she admitted, "I've never felt true happiness. I've been happy, but never fully happy. There has always been something off in my life."
"What's wrong now?"
Abigail smiled at him as he pulled her along with the line, "Things just haven't lined up quite yet I suppose. I want to live somewhere else than where we are now, you know? But that's not your fault." She said quickly, sensing his alarm, "You are not ready to move out of there yet. But when you are, I want to get out of this city and go somewhere else."
"Where do you want to go?"
"I'm no t entirely sure. I think I just want to go and explore for a bit outside of the cities. Like, go on a really long outdoor trip. Climb a few mountains. Swim in a few different oceans."
"That would be quite difficult. What flavor do you want?"
"Vanilla. And yeah, I know. But I want you to come with me."
"One Vanilla, one chocolate." Erik said to the man behind the counter, "I wouldn't want to do anything else, Abigail."
Abigail grinned, and he pulled her into a one armed hug. Erik handed her the vanilla cone, and they left the parlor in a comfortable silence, both munching away at their cones.
Ah, yes, yes, it was all coming together quite nicely.
Soon, soon, it would all be complete.
Time, time, it was all that was needed.
But… Time was running out, yes, running out.
He needed to get the details straight. It was time to get serious.
A couple weeks was all that was left. The time has come to collect and map everything out.
Doug opened his eyes. The room was pitch black, the same room he had been in for the past two weeks. Silently, he rose from his chair, opened the door, and stepped out into the dark hallway. His eyes darted around, searching for an unexpected surprise. He knew something was watching him, waiting for him. But he, oh, he would be ready for them. Doug clenched his fists and went down the stairs and into the kitchen.
Doug passed by a plate of steaming hot chocolate chip cookies, went to the refrigerator, and took out a couple pieces of bread. He chewed them violently, quickly moving towards the garage door. He stepped through, shutting it quickly behind him. Doug swallowed the tough bread, pulled on a string, and a dim light lit up his lair.
Looking at the light hurt his eyes, but Doug ignored it. He walked around the garage with determination, taking inventory. He finished off the bread, ignoring the pain in his stomach. Grabbing an empty cardboard box, Doug began to put items inside. Rope, flashlights, a couple knives, a few pieces of cloth, his combat boots, an entirely black outfit and a crowbar were initially put in, as well as his lock-picking equipment.
Doug walked over to where he hid his gun, checking to make sure it was still there as he did every other night. He lifted it from its case, running a hand over its smooth, silver surface. He smiled manically to himself, knowing exactly what he would do.
Doug pointed the gun at the opposite end of the garage.
He unlocked the safety.
He pulled the trigger, and the gun let out a small click, showing him he had no bullets loaded.
"Boom." He whispered to nobody.
Aimee was getting more and more nervous as the weeks went on. She and Drew practiced non-stop, but for some reason, it was never good enough to her. Aimee always saw something wrong with her performance, something was always out of tune, something was always wrong with her dance.
Drew was constantly telling her she was outdoing everyone, but she did not believe him. To fill the role of Christine was huge, and she knew it. No matter how well people told her she was doing, she would need to work harder and harder as they drew closer to the first performance.
They had begun to perform at the actual Opera House. Aimee had to admit, it was rather nerve racking. Whenever she was not concentrating on her work, she was thinking of Abigail and the Phantom. She knew that they were below them, and she knew that they knew that she was here. Why did they not approach her yet? It was confusing to her, but at the same time, she was grateful. The last thing she needed was for Abigail to come upstairs and cause a scene, as cruel as that may sound.
"Aimee! From the top!" called Drew from the stage.
"Alright!" Aimee called back, shaking the thought away. They were practicing the scene where Christine rips the mask from the Phantom's face.
Aimee rushed back out, passed Drew grinning at her from his place at the fake organ, and went back down on the swan bed. She shut her eyes, gave a thumbs up, and the music began to play.
She slowly woke up, looked around, and pretended to contemplate her surroundings.
I remember there was mist
swirling mist upon a vast, glassy lake
There were candles all around,
and on the lake there was a boat,
and in the boat there was a man
She walked towards Drew, sitting at the organ, pretending to be busy with something. She sang, her hand slowly reaching up to a pretend mask upon Drew's face.
Who was that shape in the shadows?
Whose is the face in the mask?
Aimee grabbed at the pretend mask, and threw the invisible object away. She screamed, Drew jumped up, and roared his lines.
Damn you!
You little prying Pandora!
You little demon
Is this what you wanted to see?
Drew thrust a finger towards his perfect face.
Curse you!
You little lying Delilah!
You little viper
Now you cannot ever be free!
He fell over in fake anguish, slamming his fist against the ground. Aimee slowly crawled away from him, giving off an air of fear.
Damn you...
Curse you...
Drew looked up at her, a tear slowly rolling down his cheek.
Stranger than you dreamt it
Can you even dare to look
or bare to think of me:
this loathsome gargoyle, who burns in hell,
but secretly yearns for heaven,
secretly... secretly...
Christine...
He began to crawl towards her, reaching for her.
Fear can turn to love - you'll learn to see
to find the man behind the monster:
this repulsive carcass, who seems a beast
but secretly dreams of beauty,
secretly... secretly...
Oh, Christine...
Aimee shook her head at him, and he bowed his head in shame. After a moment, he jumped up, pulling her up forcefully with him.
Come, we must return
Those two fools Who run my
theater will be missing you.
"Good, good." Came a voice from the audience. Aimee looked over to the man, the director. He was sitting among other crew and cast watching. People clapped politely for a second at the scene they had watched five times in a row.
"Well, we can move on. Just remember, Drew, more pain. This is a vital moment."
"Yes, sir." Drew said, giving him a fake salute. Aimee giggled. Drew wagged his eyebrows at her.
They had become quite close over the past few weeks. She had not seen Doug at all, so she spent most of her time with Drew these days. The last episode with Doug had left something of a sore spot on their relationship, and Aimee was not going to apologize. It was not her fault that after all she had done for Doug, he turned around and did something so rash to her.
The two of them walked backstage, "The show is coming up next week. You excited?" Drew asked.
"Yeah, I am. Sort of nervous too though." She said honestly.
"Don't be, you're amazing." Drew said.
Aimee rolled her eyes.
"Well, dress rehearsals start tomorrow. So it's time to get serious."
"You haven't been already?"
"Oh, no, I have!" she said quickly, "But just, more serious? I don't know. All I know is that the big day is coming up. I'm just worried about what might happen."
"Why are you so worried? You're like, a pro."
"I guess I'm just worried that Doug might show up and ruin it. Or other people." Aimee admitted.
"Like who?"
"Oh, you don't know them.."
"Well, if Doug and these other people are really your friends, they will be in the audience cheering you on."
"That's what I'm afraid of."
Drew laughed, "Oh, let's not worry about this now. Keep your head in the game, Aimee. Don't freak out about something that's not going to happen. Let's go practice."
"Alright."
They went off to a secluded corner, and began to practice. Aimee still could not shake the off feeling she had about opening night.
Was her subconscious telling her that something was going to happen? What could happen? All that was going on was the play.
Right?
And nothing would go wrong with the play. It was perfectly organized and practiced. They had already done the play fully three times, each one getting better than the last.
Still…
She knew something was going to go wrong.
Another in between chapter, next chapter will be extremely important. Can you guess what its gonna be? :P
REVIEW. Last chapter's reviews were a lot less than what I have been getting. I want moar! I AM GREEDY.