Nothing belongs to me :(

Erik

Entry 14

It turns out that I was right to be worried about Piangi and the strain that he was putting his heart under. I had asked Madame Giry some time ago to drop a hint to the managers about suggesting to the baritone that he try and lose some weight. It seems though that the suggestion fell on deaf ears.

Don Juan Triumphant opened tonight and I was happily anticipating the introduction of my opera to the whole of Paris. Christine I know was feeling very nervous, not wanting to let me down. I could only laugh and smile at her when she had voiced her concerns to me. No matter what happened she could never let me down.

Everything seemed to be going fine. All the usual problems that cause hiccups during the first night of a production seemed to have passed us by. That is until Piangi was found. He was dead. His body was found slumped against some scenery behind the stage.

I seemed to view the entire proceedings in a kind of trance. Detached.

It seemed to come as a shock to everyone and even though I had been expecting some kind of health problems I had never expected this. The whole performance had to be put on hold and the entire house was refunded and the opening rescheduled for next week. Due to some "unfortunate, unforeseen occurrence" according to the managers.

The audience went home grumbling and unsatisfied – after all you do not want to tell a whole auditorium of people that the performance can not continue because of a dead body. They would not return for months. People seem to have an unexplainable aversion to dead bodies. Which strikes me as strange since dyeing is a natural part of living is it not?

I made my way back to the lake, deep in thought.

I was disappointed about the delay. It was after all the opening night of my opera. The opera that I had spent years working on. The opera that was only completed due to Christine being in my life. Her influence had allowed me to call on a whole well of emotion deep within me that I did not even know existed.

On my way through the passages and basements I wondered just how the managers were going to put together the production for a week from now. It is not easy to find singers and as Piangi had no understudy the whole process would have to be started from scratch. Such a thing could take weeks if not months. I could not see them doing it in seven days.

Then it struck me.

After Madame Giry's somewhat pointed conversation about my face I had began to think about how I would go about living above when married to Christine. It would be a crime for me to even consider imprisoning her with me below the Opera House. So I had began to experiment. I had though that perhaps it would be acceptable for me to just continue with my mask but no...a story would need to be thought of. Small pox? A fight? An animal attack? War? There were so many different options. And then even if such a tale was accepted by the world above they would no doubt wish to see proof. After all many men have such problems and they do not hide their faces from the rest of humanity. I still cringe to think of the day that Christine will see what I really am...

But to continue.

After brushing of the idea of making do with only my mask I began to think about other options.

During comedy pieces certain make-ups are used to increase the size of body parts such as noses, ears etc. If such things could be used to create features then surely it could hide them also. So during one of my many visits above I picked up what I required.

When I got back I sat before the one mirror that I have and removed my mask carefully. Sill feeling surprised that the mirror did not crack at the monstrous reflection that was staring back at me. I opened the jar and sniffed it suspiciously. I could not quite identify the scent of the white sticky substance.

Deciding to get the disappointment out of the way quickly – I was somewhat sceptical as to whither it would work or not – I scooped out a handful and plastered it across my face. The bizarre mixture was cold and shocked the sensitive, thin skin on the blemished side of my face.

I continued to smear it on - the longer it was exposed to the air the more solid it became and yet it stayed flexible. I moulded it as close to my skin as possible and by the end I was surprised that the end result was pretty good. The extreme scaring and markings was no longer visible instead it was just smooth white. I could do nothing to prevent my eyelid from drooping but it was not a bad attempt.

I emptied out the bag of stage make-up that I had lifted along with the slightly smaller bag of the more discrete make-up that I had lifted from Carlotta's dressing room. I set to work trying to get the two sides of my face to blend seamlessly. I experimented with the different shades and tones until I finally managed to find the right combination. It was not until I had finished that I realised that I had been at it for nearly four hours.

I sat back and admired my handy work. I flatter myself that I had not done a very bad job.

Both side of my face merged seamlessly with nothing that could be seen to say that my whole face was not my own. I had to spray some kind of strong smelling stuff to my face to stop the make-up from running – the performers use it during productions to save their costumes.

I felt a slight lift in my chest when I realised that I looked just like any other man. I could make a life for myself and Christine above the confines of the basements...

But there is a reason behind this story. As I was saying I was walking back home trying to think of just how the managers were going to pull off their idea of rescheduling the performance for a week today. I could perform in Piangi's place. With Madame Giry's assistance of course. As it was the ballet mistress who had first approached the managers and conductor with my work I would need her to identify me as the writer. And then they could hardly deny me the rights to perform in my own Opera. I would sing with Christine before the whole of Paris.

I began to rush now, my steps echoing around the passages.

A soon as I got home I dragged out the bag of make-up and began the same process. I had practised occasionally since then and since I was no longer experimenting the whole thing took no longer then half an hour. I ensured that I had missed no where and that everywhere blended properly. I was showing Christine and I was not risking missing anywhere.

I carefully placed my mask back over my face and rushed back to the surface more eager to show Christine and tell her of my idea than I had been about the opening of my opera.

It didn't come as much of a surprise to me when I recognised steps coming towards me – quickly. And I was no where near the surface.

I opened up my arms when Christine came running towards me and she threw her arms around me. I held her close to me - once again feeling lucky at having her in my life. She squeezed me tightly before she drew away and looked into my eyes.

She asked me how I was, her voice thick with concern and I smiled widely at her. She was worried that I was upset about the performance. She didn't know that I had something greater to show her.

"I am fine my love," I told her stroking her hair away from her face before I took her hand and lead her back to the lake. She clutched my hand trustingly.

"What is the rush Erik?" she asked me and I could hear the laughter in her voice. She always found my behaviour funny when I acted this way. I don't know why.

"I have something to show you," I answered her unable to keep the excitement out of my voice.

After what seemed a lifetime we were finally back at my home the light coming form the many candles placed around the cavern making it almost as bright as it was outside.

I released her hand and spun around to face her, still smiling happily.

"I have something to show you," I repeated.

She just smiled at me and nodded her head.

My hands moved to my mask but before I could remove it she had lurched forward and took my hands in hers.

"You do not have to do this Erik," she told me, her voice was shaking with emotion.

I continued to smile and squeezed her hand. Not once has she ever made a move to remove my mask from my face. Always respecting the fact that I am most comfortable with it on.

I slipped my hand out of hers and moved back to my mask. She would have no reason to be ashamed of being seen with me from this day on – not that she would ever show me that she was feeling so...

I took the mask from my face and waited for her reaction.

She was silent.

I looked at her and seeing the shock on her face words sprung to my lips.

"I know that you have never seen my face as it truly is sweetheart," I whispered reaching out a shaking hand to stroke her own perfect cheek. I cupped her face in my hand.

"But do you think you could live with this?" I asked her, unsure if what her reaction would be. Would she demand to see what I was hiding?

She reached out her own hand and stroked the side of my face that was now mask less.

"I love you, Erik," she told me firmly.

"Whither you wear a mask or not." If only she knew what was truly hidden she would run from me. All the love in the world could not over look my cursed face.

She blushed now and wrapped her arms around my neck drawing my head down. I allowed her to do so, willingly losing myself in the kiss that she planted on my lips. I had never realized before just how much my mask had been in the way. I deepened the kiss and held her closer to me. I felt her knot her finger in my hair when I went to pull away. It seemed that I was not the only one who had noticed the difference.

A need for air finally drew us apart and I wrested my forehead against her own.

She was gasping for breath as was I.

I stood straight and looked down at her. She was smiling brightly at me.

"That is definitely a bonus,"she breathed.

I told her of my plan and she agreed whole heartedly, insisting that we go to see Madame Giry right then.

I allowed myself to be dragged along and found myself standing outside the ballet mistress rooms tugging at my collar nervously.

Christine let go of my hand (that she hadn't let go of since she had began dragging me) and slapped playfully at the one that was tugging at my shirt. Going to see Madame Giry tonight had not been part of the plan. She straightened my tie that I had managed to mess up with my fusing and playfully planted a light kiss on the tip of my nose.

"You look fine Erik," she whispered, pulling away slowly and looking into my eyes.

"You look very handsome," she added tugging my jacket straight and I saw the same blush come to her cheeks that had appeared earlier.

I felt invincible at that moment and leaning forward I knocked on the door.

Do you like my twist?

It won't be long now till the end =(*sniff sniff* 3-5 more chapters. I feel so sad.

Anywayz moving swiftly on :). Hope you like and please let me know what you think.

Cheers and have a great weekend everybody :)