Chapter 3: Always Watching

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Warnings- Some mild sexual content in this chapter, you have been warned!

Disclaimer- See chapter 1

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Perhaps Berdine had judged the old opera house too quickly. The further they traveled, the more grand and even borderline charming the place became, though it never quite lost the creepy edge. Adeline was quick to explain every corner, every nook and cranny like she had given birth to the damn place herself, but Berdine had to admit the history behind the architecture itself was fascinating.

"And it wasn't until recently that we discovered that many passageways lie underneath the Opera Populaire, connecting to catacombs and waterways that remain unexplored due to the unstableness of the structures."

Really, now that was interesting…

Something of that nature was mentioned in the infamous tale of the falling chandelier and the tragedy with Mlle Daae. That the masked fiend had been under the opera house the whole time, hiding away from the world and wreaking havoc.

Berdine didn't see how some of the girls her age thought the story was as romantic as it was disturbing. They would sit there and share in the gossip, all the while cooing at how they too wanted a man that would bring down an opera house in his jealousy, and would love them enough to want to keep them all to himself.

"It' so romantic!" They had all sighed together, their doe eyes wide with wonder.

It was most certainly not romantic, in Berdine's mind. What the Monsieur did to Mlle Daae was anything but love. Love is sacrifice, love is kind, and love is patient- pure in all forms and the light within the darkness. Yes, love could be selfish, love could be passionate, even sometimes eager- but what the Phantom failed to grasp was that when love is not welcome, it bows out gracefully and leaves.

No, what he had experienced was something born from anger and resentment, the childish need to have something one couldn't. He didn't want to share the shiny, new toy he had stolen from the rich boy and so he hid it away in the hopes no one ever went looking for it. And when the toy was eventually missed and searched for he fought to keep it, yelling and screaming why it was he who deserved it and no one else. When the toy was finally found, he threw a tantrum and spent the rest of his days sulking at the unfairness of the world.

Love wasn't anything close to that.

Yes, the man- at least from what she heard- was disfigured, maybe even horribly so but that was no excuse. Her own brother can't even communicate to his fellow human beings, can never express with his mouth what he's thinking or feeling. Can't ever tell his beloved wife that he loves her more than life itself. But that certainly doesn't stop him from trying.

She remembers a time when she was still just a tiny thing, maybe no more than seven, and her brother Charlie brought her out to a small pond not far from their home. Like the elaborate game she was playing now, Berdine would sit and pretend she was mute like her brother (though at that age she was very bad at it), and they would sit for hours and try to communicate with each other without words. Her brother, for obvious reasons, was always much better at it than she was. He would use his hands and the objects around him to create all sorts of thoughts and happenings, always elaborate but never hard to understand. Berdine's efforts were sad and terribly simple but she she managed to play along well enough that she didn't quit from becoming too frustrated.

It had been Charlie's favorite game, and she made sure they played it as much as they could.

Well, one day he brought her out to that pond like he always did and sat her down looking at her and smiling. He held up a finger and pointed at himself, indicating he would be going first. She watched with concentrated eyes as he knelt in front of her on one knee, taking her hand and gently squeezing it with both of his, looking into her eyes before one of his hands let go. He brought it to his chest where he touched the spot his heart was beating, held it for a second, before bringing it to her own heart and resting it there, squeezing her hand again.

That was the first time her brother 'told' her he loved her.

The words had never left his lips but yet to this day she recalls the utter happiness she felt that was equally shared with Charlie. For years after, she had watched as the world beat her brother to a pulp, witnessed the bruises from fist fights and the emotional hurt from the misconception that because he was a mute, he wasn't a human being with his own dreams and feelings. And despite all this, her brother had moved forward and found his own reason for living- married a wife and worked to support her like all other men do for their loved ones. Charlie had made his place in this world of cruelty and unfairness- and never once had he killed innocent lives or kidnapped pretty opera singers in order to do it.

Berdine had lost herself within this rant, and by the time she came back to herself Mlle Fincher had brought them to the theatre stage itself. They were walking down one of the many aisles, plush carpeting cradling her feet and stopping her footsteps from echoing around the cavernous ceilings high above them. The mighty stage stretched before her in all its glory, and from the looks of it, ballerinas were having their practice. Berdine never grasped how skinny and lean these girls were, all graceful limbs that stretched and bent like tree branches. Her own body was womanly, where these girls were muscular and taut she was soft and round. Not necessarily plump, but not even close to trim and fit like what was before her now- twirling and leaping through the air like birds.

There was also an older woman standing off to the side, observing the dancers and offering corrections when a mistake was made or praise was needed. She was beautiful in her own mature way, motherly-looking with her graying hair pulled back into a neat bun. As if she knew Berdine was watching her, the woman turned to look at her sharply, those soft eyes turning to steel when the woman had had a good once over. She glanced up into the catwalks before returning her gaze to a puzzled Berdine, shaking her head with what seemed like pity before once again turning her attention to the dancers, snapping the cane she held against the ground when two girls collided.

"Pay attention!" She boomed.

It was then Berdine noticed practically all eyes now glued to her form from where she stood, just slightly behind Adeline in the many rows of seats. They were gaping, mesmerized and some had even quit dancing to look at her. The large theatre suddenly felt very small.

The dance instructor sighed irritably before giving up. "Mlle Fincher, what is the meaning of this?"

Adeline suddenly gasped, embarrassed. "Pardon me Madame Giry! I was just- um- giving our guest a tour of the building. I figured it was important she know her way around."

"And you find it important enough to barge in on my lesson and distract my dancers?"

"Oh no, no, no! I wouldn't, Madame! We'll just be on our way then." Adeline turned to Berdine, "Let's go dear."

What a hag, Berdine wrinkled her nose and almost leaned in to whisper her thoughts to Adeline, but managed to catch herself in time. This hadn't been the first time she almost slipped since she arrived to her new home and she would have to learn to keep her mouth shut. It was easier only because she was uncomfortable, and didn't care to talk to people she didn't know. There were a few girls at home that Berdine could call her friends, but they weren't many and they weren't really close. She liked to keep her heart to herself she supposed.

Her mother had told her when she was little that every time she became close to someone, intimate, she would be giving a piece of her heart to them. Her mother had been very serious about this, stressing that she needed to be careful of who she gave her heart to and how many.

"Take it from someone who knows, little birdy, that your heart can only love so much- can only stretch so thin. I myself had to learn this the hard way, don't be givin' your love away to people who only want to hurt you."

Berdine had taken this piece of advice and carried it like a heavy cross on her shoulders. A reminder that her love was limited, and letting people carry pieces of her heart was something precious indeed.

Her hand was grabbed by the soft one of Mlle Fincher, and they had only taken a few steps to leave when they heard, "Pardon my rudeness... if you wish to sit and watch you may," Then Giry added as an afterthought, "But keep quiet."

A few of the younger dancers giggled, but were silenced with a nearly poisonous glare from their Madame. Adeline and Berdine took a seat in the fourth row from the stage, and without the crowd of heads that would normally be present, the view was wonderful. She could see every part of the wide stage without having to constantly turn her head. The entire stage itself was elaborate, and she could faintly make out carvings along the outer rim in the wood, not to mention how big it was compared to the rest of the room. It was certainly meant to be the center of attention, and was as grand and beautiful as the rest of the room.

The dancers had regained their composure once again and took their places along the stage, the taller and older dancers behind the younger ones. They were all dressed in nearly depressing attire, the leotards a light blue- almost grey- and flowing skirts a dark charcoal that was shimmery and translucent in the bright lights. As they began to move about in dance, Berdine noticed the slow, graceful poses as if the ballerinas were swimming through viscous fluid, each movement incredibly sluggish. It was a pretty routine, she supposed, but at this rate she was going to be put to sleep.

Suddenly, the hairs at the back of her neck stood on end. Prickling needles tickled down her spine, and fine beads of sweat appeared on her brow. Berdine shivered but remained with her eyes facing the stage. It was as if she was frozen by another's will, her body no longer listening to her attempts to look behind her. She could feel eyes on the back of her head, piercing her very core with their intensity. She had never felt such a thing before, but instincts told her exactly what she needed to do… Run.

Berdine was suddenly very afraid.

This went on for about another three minutes, and just as she was about to tug on Adeline's arm to signal she wanted to get the hell out of there, a whispering voice sounded near them.

"So this is the new girl I've heard so much about."

Adeline squealed quietly in delight and turned around to greet a girl near Berdine's age, her dark hair pulled into a bun and wearing attire similar to the dancers on the stage. She was thin, and had the face of a cherub, her cheeks rosy and lips thin but not terribly so. She had long, strong legs and a tiny waist- definitely a dancer.

Berdine almost sighed in relief.

"Meg, what are you doing here? I thought you were supposed to be in town today?" Adeline inquired as Meg took a seat beside her.

"Nah, I wanted to be here to help Mama with her class. I already know the routine by heart." The girl then turned her gaze to Berdien. "So new girl, is it true you can't talk?"

"Meg!" Adeline looked like she was ready to faint. "You are so rude sometimes!"

Meg rolled her eyes, "Well, you never know around here, I was also told she was ugly and had only one leg." She looked to Berdine again, "I see they were wrong on both accounts." She giggled.

Berdine didn't know if she wanted to laugh or snort. People were so idiotic.

Adeline at least had the decency to look mortified on behalf of her very blunt friend. "I'm so sorry about this, Birdy. Meg is a little devil."

"Aw! Her name is Birdy?" Meg giggled again.

"Yes and no, her real name is Berdine. But I call her Birdy."

"Birdy it is then!"

"If you are going to continue to talk, then I would greatly appreciate it if you all left!" The Madame's voice sounded off from the stage, her dark eyes glaring in the trios' direction with sharp reprimand.

"Oops," Said Meg, "Looks like we've outstayed our welcome. Who wants some dinner?"

….

She was so tired. Who knew that Meg was just as talkative as Adeline? The two were like gossiping machines, every breath was spent on talking the night away- like they never again would have the opportunity to say something. Berdine hadn't even needed to keep herself in check at dinner, because she was pretty sure it would have been impossible to fit a word in anywhere. She was just as much disgusted as she was impressed.

She had learned a great deal however, about everyone who was anyone at the Opera Populaire. They had discussed Carlotta the most however- the conniving Diva with a nasty temper and even nastier personality. Looks like she had someone there to avoid as much as possible. The woman sounded outright unpleasant to say the least. Apparently the Phantom had thought so too, if the countess stories of pranks he played on Carlotta were any hint. Too bad the women was so stubborn.

Berdine entered the old dressing room and looked around. It was exactly how she left it, nothing out of place, no… mysterious notes or anything of that ilk. It seemed Meg's stories during the evening had gotten to her a bit. It wasn't like her to believe in such fanciful tales, but these were no tales.

They were true events.

And that in itself was enough for her to be cautious when settling down for the night. She undressed quickly, very weary of the mirror that hung on the wall overlooking the room.

"I heard he spied on her through the mirror in her dressing room, that he would speak to her and she actually believed he was an angel or something."

Maybe it wouldn't hurt to cover it… Berdine thought and went over to the cot, grabbing one of the sheets that were folded in a stack at the foot of it. She then brought it over to that ominous mirror and threw it over the damn thing. It was mostly covered, but the bottom part still peeked out however, that was fine. Just as long as the majority of it stayed out of sight Berdine might actually get a wink of sleep tonight.

She settled down in the narrow cot, uncomfortable as it was, pulling a couple of the remaining sheets over her body. With the brief prayer it wouldn't be too terribly cold tonight, Berdine quickly fell into an exhausted sleep.

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She was aware suddenly. Not awake, just aware she was in a dream. At least, it could only have been a dream, with the voice she was hearing. It was warm, and masculine.

"Berdine, my sweet little child."

A feeling of hot ran down her leg as a hand touched her thigh, stroking it in the gentlest way- almost as if petting her. The hand was large, strong, and the things it was currently doing were so inappropriate that Berdine knew she would be blushing profusely if this wasn't a dream. But because it was she decided to enjoy it.

"You are simply stunning." The voice whispered.

Those hands, two of them now, began to travel upwards towards her breasts, the fingertips just touching underneath them before disappearing. Berdine let out a whimper before she could help herself.

The voice chuckled. "Yes child, crave my touch. You will soon learn you cannot live without it. For I will make sure no man can please you but myself."

Then the voice melted into an angry growl. "I will not make the same mistake twice."

And then it was gone.

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Author's note: Hey guys! I want to thank all of you who reviewed the last two chapters! You guys are beyond awesome! And a big thanks to those who faved and followed!

dp10414: Sorry, didn't know if the site would delete your name so I didn't capitalize the first two characters *shrugs* But I wanted to thank you for catching my errors, I really appreciate it! And don't worry, I can take constructive criticism! Give me more! I can't always know what the readers like, and outside help is always needed in my opinion, so thank you.

sesshomaru'sginstuki: Thank you so much for your review! I loved hearing what you think, and you were spot on! And I guess she's an introvert. I know all about them after all- I am one XD But it goes a bit deeper than just being an introvert, though, that's part of it.

Chaiteaandwalnuts: I'm glad you like my idea, I've tried to find a story similar to this idea that's been floating around in my head for years but never did. So I just decided to take matters into my own hands. I hope you keep loving this story as it progresses!

Well, that's all for now! Hope you all enjoyed, please leave a review. They keep me motivated!

Oh! And to take the advice of DP here are some questions for you guys!

1. Do you like my version of the Phantom? What can I change or keep the same?

2. Do you like Berdine? Is she too much of a mary sue? If so, what can I do to fix that?

3. Am I doing the other characters justice? (Giry, Meg, Moncharmin, etc)

Till next time!

IiR