CHAPTER EIGHT:

Christine POV

The Opera house was utter chaos for the next few weeks. Everyone was running around talking about Erik and the blackmail he had been sending to some of the cast.

Even though it was alarming, I couldn't help but be at least a tiny bit entertained by it, and I would find out as soon as I could if people had received any of this sort of mail through Raoul.

I became his partner of sorts, but I only agreed because it meant I got away from all the confusion of the Opera Populaire every once in a while. I also would receive the latest news from "O.G." as his nom de plume was before any of the chorus girls could stretch the story.

Meg seemed very jealous of me, and would often grumble whenever I went out with Raoul. I formed the idea that she was smitten with him, but didn't question her on it. I had watched enough catfights in the dormitory to know what not to do.

I also had the obligation of learning a role in the new production of Il Muto, where I was to play Serafimo, the mute fancy of the Countess. From the way Erik treated me, I could tell this would not please him, especially since La Carlotta was playing opposite me.

Carlotta and I had not been great friends to start with, but now we were bitter rivals. I kept my hatred within me, but she spread hers across the very earth, so it seemed. Every week I would have to fight off sabotage attempts, everything from blackmail to burning my clothing, which made me detest the fat hag even more each time I saw her.

It was finally the first performance of Il Muto and I had just finished putting on my heavy make-up and costume, and was trying to get on stage. The regular way was too crowded as one of the sheep for the ballet was having a fit and knocking into props.

There was too much commotion, so I decided to take the back way where many of the stagehands hid out on their breaks. It was dark and gloomy there, and many old, broken puppets hung from the ceiling, jeering at me silently. Above me in the rafters, I kept hearing what sounded like the soft swoosh of a cape, and once I thought I caught a glimpse of Erik's mask.

It was starting to scare me, and I was about to go when I was caught around the waist and dragged into someone's arms. The smell of strong alcohol and sweat mixed together assaulted my nostrils, and I feared the worst of whom this might be. My fears were confirmed.

I was captured by none other than Joseph Buquet.

He pushed his sweaty face into my ponytail, inhaling my scent, which made me sick.

"What a pretty bird I've caught," he muttered, the scent of his breath making me choke.

"Buquet," I grunted, struggling to get out of his grip. His arms held me tighter, almost as tight as a corset, and I could not break away.

"I do hope you will perform well for me." I knew he didn't mean singing, and I threw myself against his arms in attempts to get free.

"Speaking of performing, I really have to~" I never finished my sentence in time.

Spinning me around, his drunken lips met mine and for a second, I received my first kiss. It was not pleasant, I assure you.

I pushed him away from me, trying to run, but he caught my arm.

"The show's not done yet, little birdie," he grinned maniacally, his sweaty hand reaching out for my bosoms. I had never been violent before, and wasn't quite sure where my inner strength came from, but I was quite glad I had it or I would've been doomed.

I slapped him across the face, catching him hard and sending him to the ground. I hesitated for merely a moment, a little shocked at my force, before picking up my skirts and running as fast as I could onto the stage, ducking behind the curtain in front of the fake bed.

Carlotta already stood there with her precariously tall wig on that resembled Marie Antoinette's ill-fated head. She frowned at me when I arrived, panting from the long run and the fear.

"You are late, petit grenouille," she commented in a huff, opening her mouth so her maid could spray a foreign concoction into the yawning cavern.

She cackled like a crow for a small warm up, and I waited until after her little show was done to respond.

"I was held up… so to speak." She looked over at me and raised an eyebrow.

"Your lipstick is smudged," she noted, and I bit my lip.

"'Ave you and zat Vicomte been smooching again?" My mouth fell open at her suggestion. Raoul and I… kissing?

"What do you mean?" I stuttered, which only seemed to confirm her suspicions.

"You and 'im are, 'ow you say… sweet 'earts?" I opened my mouth in shock, but I didn't get to answer as the orchestra began to play the prelude.

"We are on soon, frog," she told me, and readied herself. I sighed, stepping close to her to prepare as well.

The stage was set. The show was beginning.