~White Lily, Blue Ribbon~
"Break a leg!"
The whispers of good luck came from all sides as Evie made her way up the stairs to the stage, her heart in her mouth. It took her longer to make it up those stairs than it probably should have, which was due in part to the tent's worth of fabric in her costume, and partly to the ridiculous shoes she had been forced into to increase her height. She eventually managed to stumble to the top of the stairs, muttering "I might just break my leg, in these." under her breath.
Once she reached the top however she stepped on her skirts and tripped, screwing her eyes shut. When, to her surprise, she didn't in fact hit the ground, she opened her eyes to find she had been caught by the old stage manager, who gave her a wink.
"Go get 'em darlin'." he said. She smiled nervously back at him.
"Thanks,' she whispered.
She moved behind the heavy red curtain as the last people fled the stage. She took a few deep breaths, to still her nerves. First fill the bottom of your lungs, then the top, the Phantom's instructions still echoed around her head, use your diaphragm... She smiled to herself, getting into position.
In the moment before the curtain rose she heard a whisper, causing her to jump, making her head whip around.
"Hey, Evie!"
There stood Sebastian, clad in stage-blacks and about to haul the open the curtain. The sight of him brought sharply to mind their row of a couple nights before, but her fears were quelled when she saw that he was grinning. 'Break a leg,' he mouthed at her, just as she heard the audience fall silent on the other side of the curtain. She smiled her gratitude. At her nod, he took the chain in his hands, and the curtains swung open to the politely indifferent applause of the audience.
A moment or two passed in expectant silence.
Then, Evie began to sing.
xXx
From his vantage point in Box Five (which he had been pleased to find empty upon his arrival), the Phantom at first did not watch the stage, but instead the audience, gauging their reactions- a vain little habit he was yet to grow out of. He noted with a smug satisfaction the way each gentleman and lady now sat a little forward, on the edge of their seats. They even seemed to sway a little as the music filled the auditorium, as if it physically moved them.
However, as the music swelled to a crescendo and Evie's voice soared through the highest notes of her aria, he missed the tears welling up in the eyes of every member of the audience. He didn't see the way the lovers clasped hands in the dark, or see the contented smiles on the lips of those who had come alone, for he too had suddenly become captivated by the girl on the stage.
She didn't sing well. In fact, at one point her voice broke completely. She was crying; crying and singing at the same time, bent over the prone figure of the tenor that played her dying father. Even he wept, as silently as he could, trying not to draw attention to himself.
It wasn't the song that was what moved them to tears; in fact, as a piece of composition alone, the Phantom held it in a degree of disdain. The beauty lay in the truth with which she sang it. The Phantom knew now, as he watched her sing, she understood the meaning. She felt it.
His heart swelled with pride, but at the same time he felt it sink. There it was, what he had been striving for all these long months, and she had achieved it without him. The victory wasn't his, just as she wasn't really his. He gritted his teeth. And now she didn't need him any more. It was only a matter of time now, the Phantom thought bitterly, before she went off on her own. Before, self-satisfied and self-important, she left him. He fumed inside. The arrogance!
… He was getting ahead of himself. He drew a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment, letting the sound calm him. This was Evie. Evie who had cried for fear that he would leave her. And yet, a part of him still ached inside, knowing the fragile arrangement they had developed would inevitably end. It always did. Still as the audience, a moment ago so polite, so disinterested, burst into roaring applause, he let himself enjoy it. Or if not enjoy, then at least appreciate it; this brief moment of victory.
xXx
When the curtain closed to the roar of Evie's standing ovation, the very first thing she did was remove her shoes. The second thing she did was run. She tore from the stage, pushing past each person- chorus, ballerina, or crew, that tried to trap her with their praises – there was only one person whose praises she wanted tonight.
She burst into box five with a flourish, red-faced and out of breath, but found it empty.
"...Phantom?" her face fell, and her heart sank. Where was he? Had he seen it? She looked around, as if by some chance he might appear from the shadows. A shape on one of the chairs drew her attention, and she moved closer to examine it. It seemed to be some sort of bundle. There was a note on top. She quickly picked it up and unfolded it.
Dearest Evie it read. She smiled. Dearest, was it? Well done tonight. I am quite pleased. Pleased? Her face fell ...that was it? Just pleased? With this letter please find a small gift, a reward of sorts for your efforts. She looked again at the bundle the letter had rested upon, and picked it up. Her breath caught as it gently unfolded to the floor. It was a dress. A dress of a dark blue velvet and white silk, with sleeves to the elbows and a bow at the hip. It was easily the most beautiful thing Evie had ever seen in her life.
She was already near tears, but then as it unfolded something fluttered to the ground. Her father's blue ribbon. He'd found it. She tied it, hands trembling, into her hair, smiling through the water that had filled up her eyes. She looked back down at the letter. I would have you wear it to the ball this evening, instead of whatever abomination your mother has picked out. She laughed, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her costume. Now stop reading and go prepare yourself. There are people waiting for you.
She smiled and gathered up the dress in her arms, shuffling quietly down the empty hall before ducking into an empty broom cupboard to get changed in. She didn't feel quite up to braving the dressing rooms, they would be crawling with people at this moment; people preparing themselves for the celebration.
It was only once she'd stripped to her underskirts and stepped into the dress that she felt her stomach sink in realisation. She couldn't do the clasps up by herself. She was just beginning to fully panic when she heard a light footstep coming down the hall and a soft, tuneful humming. She peeked through the crack in the cupboard, and let out a breath of relief.
"Psst! Sebastian!" she whispered, opening the door just enough to stick out her head. He turned around, looking surprised and more than a little confused at the sight of her there. He was dressed much more elegantly than usual, she noticed, in a dark green coat with tails.
"Evie?" he asked, a curious smile lighting his face. "Hiding from your rabid admirers I see..."
"Very funny."
"Well what are you doing then?" he asked, "in a... broom cupboard? I thought you'd be down in the foyer..."
"Never mind that." she said quickly. "Come here, quick, I need your help." He stepped inside the cupboard with her, but blushed and quickly turned away when he realised what she wore.
"For God's sake Evie- you're half-dressed-"
"Oh stop being such a pansy," she said impatiently. "and help me do up this monster. I can't manage it on my own." He reluctantly obliged and once he had finished, she whirled to face him, smiling in satisfaction.
"Well, what do you think?" she asked, arranging her skirts around her.
"Its..." he seemed speechless, unable to find the words to describe what he felt. Perhaps he was still ruffled from his earlier embarrassment... "a dress?"
"...That's it?" she looked back down at it. No, it was still as magnificent as it had always been.
"...pretty?" he floundered. "I don't know, Evie, I'm not good at these things. I mean, I only stole this," he gestured to his fine coat, "from the costume cupboard cause it was the least moth-eaten, and Hamish said - "
"Whatever, Sebastian," Evie sighed, rolling her eyes, "Come," she took his hand and tugged on it impatiently, in the direction of the foyer. "We're already late." He frowned.
"Aren't you worried about your mother-"
"I am the star of the London Opera now, Sebastian." she replied smoothly, smirking. "I can do whatever I want."
xXx
The room was a swirl of colour and music and laughter and life. When Evie and Sebastian crossed the threshold a swarm of people assaulted them, Lords and Ladies of every sort, heaping upon her more praise than she knew what to do with. For the most part she just smiled and blushed and mumbled thank-yous to her shoes, letting Sebastian steer her through the crowd.
"My dear! A stunning performance, truly-"
"... charming! Just charming! And even more so in person-"
"... how beautiful! And so young as well-"
It made Evie feel shy and bashful, but it also made her feel powerful- a kind of power she'd never known before. Here, being loved and adored by a hoard of people whose names she didn't even know, she was no longer a child, she was something more, something more than mere human. A star. She wished the Phantom were here. She wished he could see her now, see how far she had come.
All the attention made her brave, cocky even. When she caught Victoria's cold, narrowed eye from across the room she couldn't help but smirk. She caught Sebastian by the arm, noting with glee the way her mothers lips tightened.
"Dance with me, Sebastian?" she murmured in his ear as the group of musicians struck up a waltz.
"What?" he asked, with that ever-present touch of self-mocking sarcasm, "Me? The stage hand? When your mother expressly forbid it? And when that viscount over there has had his eye on you since you walked in?" He masked the bitterness in his tone with a joke as always, jerking his thumb at a weedy blonde man who was, indeed, staring in their direction. Evie wrinkled her nose in distaste.
"Especially then." she replied and he laughed, taking her hand.
"As you wish, my Prima Donna..." When they began to dance others joined them, and the floor was soon full of twirling dresses, whirling tails and laughter. Evie and Baz weren't very proficient dancers, so much of the laughter came from their direction, and had much to do with stumbling or foot-fumbling. When the song finally came to an end, she smiled up at him, face flushed and eyes bright.
"Thank you, kind sir."
"Yeah, well don't let it go to your head." he said, a smile in his eyes. There was an element of irony in his voice, but she was too high now to notice it. "I'll have you know you're just one of many girls vying for my attention." she snickered, but someone had already tapped her on the shoulder and asked her to dance. Before Bas could say another word she was gone in a whirl of blue velvet and he was left alone.
The faces of the men and boys she danced with eventually blurred into one for Evie that night as she danced and danced until she was dizzy. And then again, she was spun from one man's arms into another's, but something caught her attention this time, making her frown. Red. Red and gold brocade. Her head snapped up to meet the man's eyes. Sharp, dark and deep-set and behind a skull mask of the finest quality.
"You came!" she breathed and threw her arms around her master's neck. "I'd thought you weren't going to..."
"And miss seeing my Prima Donna? Not for the world." he replied with a smile.
"Did you see-" she broke off, noticing how quiet the room had become all of a sudden. She looked around her, to find that people were all watching her out of the corner of their eyes, whispering amongst each other, throwing the odd glance in their direction. Victoria was making her way through the crowd towards them now, and Moretti and the Maestro weren't far behind.
"Good sir," Victoria began, her voice pleasant but false, "Your costume impresses us all, I am sure, but this evening's ball is not a masquerade."
"Well." the man in red said, turning to her slowly. His voice was low and chilling, unsettling even to Evie. "I did always love an entrance, Madame Frost. That is a charming dress that you are wearing, by the way." He said with a smirk, indicating the salmon pink confection she wore this evening. She took an unconscious step back, but her eyes narrowed.
"It would be taken as a kindness if you were to remove-"
"You are French." cut in the Maestro. The man in red stiffened, turning to the Maestro.
"I hope that is not a crime."
"Killing people is."
"Sebastian!" Evie whirled to face the boy who had stepped forward from the ring of people that had come to surround them. Her expression was shocked. "You mustn't talk about people that way-"
"Georgia died in hospital, Evie." he replied calmly.
"What?" she looked horrified, and tears sprang to her eyes as she glanced from person to person, as if hoping someone would contest his statement. "N- no..."
"But before she did," Sebastian was slowly walking up to the red-clad man, speaking to him now, eyes piercing, "she talked a lot about a man in a mask. The 'Opera Ghost'" there was an appreciative, intrigued tittering among the guests.
"Sebastian," warned the Maestro.
"What?" he challenged. "I'm right aren't I, Evie? This is the man who has been blackmailing the Opera House? This is the man who I saw you meet with every night in Box Five?"
"You followed me?"Evie exploded at the same time her mother screeched;
"You followed her!"
"Evie!" warned the Phantom, at the same time Moretti said
"Victoria!" before frowning and adding, "Wait, you knew-?"
"Okay fine. This man is my singing tutor." Evie finally admitted.
"And what is 'this man's' name, then Evie?" the Maestro asked quietly. Evie floundered. She didn't know. She turned to Sebastian for help.
"Baz-" she pleaded.
"No Evie!" he growled, "I'm not covering for you any more!"
"Baz- listen-"
"No, Evie!" he roared. "Not when you'll sneak out in order to get stupid singing lessons from some creep- some murderer whose name you don't even know, whose got the whole Opera House under his thumb and now you defend him? What about us, Hell, what about me? I've been your best friend for God knows how long and you wont even look at me any more!"
"Baz, you're not listening to me-"
"Well I'm through, I've had enough of your selfishness- your bloody hypocrisy-" his anger was swallowing his words, so turned to leave, but then doubled back as another thought hit him.
"You know what's the worst thing?" he asked, a little more softly, "Gerry's too young to understand, and I have to explain it to him when he asks how come you never see him any more. I have to lie for you. Well I'm done lying for you!" he declared before turning and pointing.
"That man is the- " the man in red was gone. Excited whispers rose up from the ranks of the watchers as everyone looked about themselves for a glimpse of red. Once it was established that he was nowhere to be found, all eyes once again turned to Evie.
At that moment, she felt utterly alone.
"Miss Evelyn." said Moretti softly. Seriously. "I think you should come to my office."
ITS A BIRD! ITS A PLANE! NO! IT'S... AN UPDATE!
So I've decided to attempt to finish this monstrosity, despite how much I've grown to hate it over the year it's been sitting dead and unfinished.
I'm not gonna apologise, cause odds are, if you were reading it before, you're not about to start again (and if you are, I'd just like to say, super special kudos to you) and if you've just discovered it, you won't really care. And also because honestly, this story was dead. I had no intention of starting it up again, or finishing it. Until, of course I was nagged, blackmailed, threatened and bribed enough into picking up the figurative pen one more time (special mention to KnutCase and Suzetteisblue). So here I am and, all Gods willing, this will be finished because I am sick of it sitting in "My Stories" section all unfinished and accusing-lookin'. In any case, I hope you enjoy it. =D
And now, just for fun, a conversation excerpt, which I'm sure everyone here can relate to.
Knut: Guess what I have on my desk right now.
Clue- it's Phantom related.
CANDY: … Gerard Butler?
Knut: *swoons*