Hello there,
I woke up this morning inspired, and decided to type this up and post it as a sort of apology for being MIA these past few weeks. Hope you enjoy!
Ever yours,
Soprano in Shadow
Christine had been looking for him for three days, but Erik was nowhere to be found. Ever since she had declared that he had wasted enough of her time, he had disappeared. She had torn the apartment apart and had looked through every nook and cranny of the opera house, but still there was no arrogant, self-centered, foolish… there was no Erik. And while Christine had agreed to be Raoul's fiancé, in order to protect what remained of her heart from that indecisive fool, she couldn't deny that she was still in love with the masked composer. Within three weeks, she had done the one thing that she hadn't done in three years: given her heart to a man, one who didn't even know what he wanted to be to her. It was downright embarrassing.
However at the moment, what was even more embarrassing (on top of all of her feelings), was that she had lost her second, and baritone just in time for tonight's performance—the first one since the ending of opening week.
"Still no luck, Cat?" Andre asked her, as she stared helplessly into the dark corners of the composer's room. Turning to face one of the men who had been like a father to her, Christine shook her head and buried her face into his comforting shoulder, feeling almost ready to cry once more. Who was this girl? Since Christine had been sixteen, a tear had never glistened in her eye, and her feelings had been locked away—the perfect assassin. And now? Now she was this blubbering, crying fool who cared more about finding a man than finding her clients. Speaking of which…
Christine pulled away, wiping away a few tears that had escaped her eyes. "You didn't by chance move my stack of folders, did you? I'm behind Eri- Mr. Destler, and I really do need to catch up."
Andre shook his head. "Sorry, Cat, but the last time I saw them, they were on your desk when I had to carry you kicking and screaming from Erik's door a few nights ago, and stand guard so that you wouldn't actually try to break into his room again."
Christine nodded, and turned to head back to her room—she had blades to polish and sharpen—when Andre called out to her. "Cat, if I may ask, why are you doing this? Why marry Raoul? We all know you love Erik, including Raoul. And Firmin and I can tell that he's… well more our cup of tea than yours, if I may say so myself." Andre winked at the girl causing her to giggle. "But why get yourself locked in a tower for the rest of your life, when you could most likely have Erik wrapped around your finger?"
Christine's bright face turned glum at the mention of having Erik. "Because I tried, Andre. I put my heart out there for him. And do you know what he did? He beckoned it closer, worshipped it, caressed it… and then he took a hammer, some nails and crucified it. I may be locked in a tower by marrying Raoul, but he's my best mate, and he understands. We're both in the same position, Andre. We're both lonely, and we both want to spend more time together. At least I'll be with someone who wants me emotionally, and I'm allowed to leave the marriage if I love someone else. It's the only thing to do that makes sense. I need to leave the Organization, Andre. I think this will be my last assignment, and then I'm going to Antoinette to see what can be done."
Andre looked serious for a moment, as if he had something on his mind, when his eyes turned warm, and his face broke into a smile. "Alright, hun, if you're sure. Just as long as you still love Firmin and me, then I can't complain." He winked once more, before letting the soprano head back to her room.
Once he was sure that she was no longer in the hallway, Andre reached into his pocket for his phone, speed dialed the only person who would probably find this interesting. "Antoinette? We have a problem…"
…
Christine tried to smile all during the first scene of Act Two, but her heart wasn't in it. Raoul was currently watching the performance from a box, and after the performance, they would be announcing their engagement to the press. Andre was backstage in order to help guard her from the crowds post-performance, and Firmin was seated beside Raoul and Carlotta. She had found out from the stage director that Mr. Destler had requested his understudy to perform the role, however not even the bubbly woman could explain why to Christine. Even Nathaniel looked surprised by the composer's attitude. He had walked away from her saying, "That bloody bastard…" although Christine wasn't sure if it was because Erik was missing, or because Nathaniel knew something.
Staring at herself in the mirror, Christine mentally scolded herself over and over again. She was a famous opera singer. No matter how damaged her personal life was, the show must go on! Sighing, Christine began to mentally prepare herself for the sensual Scene Three. She had never practiced this duet with the understudy, so she hoped that the man would know what to do. She had met the bloke, Michael… something, before the performance had begun, and while his voice had some power beneath it, it was still raw whereas Erik's was polished and rich.
"Five minutes, Miss Daae," The director's assistant said, peeping his head into her dressing room in order to make sure that she had heard. Christine turned and smiled in thanks, before looking back at her reflection in the mirror.
"Oh, Erik. Where have you gone now?" Christine asked her reflection quietly. When her reflection could not deliver a timely response, the brunette sighed and, getting up from her chair, Christine moved to the stage right wing, her face filled with wonder, her eyes wide. She had a role to perform.
…
As the audience roared its approval at the drop of the final curtain, Christine couldn't help but think how pathetic people truly were. Could they not hear the hollowness of her voice, the lack of passion in this new baritone's voice? They were all fools, each and every one of them!
Her curtsies finished, Christine flashed a smile to her leading man. "Thank you so much for standing in this evening, Michael. You were a wonderful help." With a flash of her smile and a bat from her eyelashes, Christine was gone, turning on her heel and moving away before the understudy could even thank the prima donna for her kind words. Michael blushed at her smile and dark eyes, the dream of singing with his idol now complete.
At once, the soprano's cheerful disposition melted away into her real expression: tired and haggard. She wanted Erik back. Turning the knob of her dressing room door, Christine opened the door, and slipping into the darkness, closed the door while searching for the light switch.
A moment later, the members of the audience closest to the stage and the opera's cast and crew all froze as they heard a chilling scream coming from the leading lady's dressing room. There was trouble.
Andre's face paled, as he ran as quickly as he could across the stage behind the curtain. This blasted leg. Crashing through the dressing room door, Andre whipped out a gun with a silencer muzzle from within his dress coat, when his mind finally registered the scene. There was Christine in the far corner of her dressing room trembling in a way that Andre hadn't seen since the girl was sixteen.
And there on her dressing room table laid a corpse, with its face mutilated beyond recognition and the throat torn out, dressed only in an undershirt and boxers.
"W-who's done this. Who would do such a sick thing?" Christine cried out shakily as tears began to run from her eyes.
Tied to a toe on the man's foot was a gift tag:
For Christine.
…
Three hours later, and Christine finally found herself back in the apartment, her body still shaking from this evening's shock. Raoul had his arm around her waist and was leading her to her bedroom, while Firmin was talking avidly on his cell phone trying to control the press. Andre had disappeared an hour after police had arrived, no doubt either on a conference call with Antoinette and the council, or on a plane to speak with her in person.
As Raoul flicked the light switch of Christine's bedroom on, Christine stood there frozen at the sight of a folder on her bed. On the top of the folder, a black X had been drawn in what looked like paint.
And then the hysteria began again. Collapsing onto the floor, Christine began to shake uncontrollably; her body scrunched into a loose fetal position, as Raoul picked up the folder and opened it. Inside was an official profile sheet from the Organization, complete with a man's photo. Alarmed, Raoul showed it to Christine, who paled.
"That is one of my client's folders. I was going to take care of him a few days ago, but the whole stack was missing. He was definitely one of mine though," Christine said, certain of seeing the photo before.
Nodding, Raoul pulled out his phone and dialed the Organization's connection to the NYPD. "Hello, Inspector? Raoul de Chagny here. Some more information about the body found in the opera house…Yes, his name is Dr. Phillip Cassava—it seems as though he was one of Miss Daae's clients, and involved in chemical products. Yes. She's right here, although I doubt she'll want to talk anymore about anything. Oh, we do know that there was a stack of about—how many, Chris? Oh right—of about twenty-seven clients' folders that has gone missing….The names? I'm sure Miss Daae could provide them in the next couple days. Yes, I believe one of Miss Daae's contacts is alerting Madame of the situation. Yes. Yes, I will. Alright, well goodnight, Inspector. We'll alert you if anything else comes up."
Putting his phone away, Raoul bent down, and scooped up the trembling soprano, placing her gently on her bed.
Christine looked at her best friend worriedly. "Who would do this to me, Raoul? Who knows that I'm part of the Organization? Who knew how to sneak in while I was sleeping and steal my folders? Why would anyone do this?"
Raoul shook his head, unsure of what to say. "I don't know, Lottie. I only know that we need to get you to sleep. You need to relax—you have a matinee in two days. Shall I sleep with you tonight, Lottie?" Seeing the quick nod of his best friend, Raoul pulled the blankets back and over both himself and the brunette. Any straight man would have taken advantage of this situation, but Raoul? Besides being out of the closet, Raoul was only concerned for his best friend's well-being. Christine snuggled against the blonde man, already beginning to fall asleep, as the shock started to wear off. Frowning, the soprano began to mutter under her breath.
Raoul froze for a moment, wondering if she was dreaming already. "What did you say, Lottie?"
"Erik…Bring Erik back, Papa."
Raoul smiled sadly, as he began to absentmindedly run his fingers through her glossy locks. Erik, where are you?
…
Andre strode through the Organization's headquarters, tired from the flight and worried about how Madame was going to take this. He found the elder woman in one of the training rooms, clad in black hakamas and a grey t-shirt, instructing a class of girls on beginner's swordplay. Knocking on the open door, Andre's face paled at the sight of the Madame's wrath as the older woman whipped around at the sound, with the grace of a twenty-year-old. No one under normal circumstances was allowed to interrupt a class that Madame taught.
"What!" Antoinette Giry snapped, her patience wearing thin. However, at the sight of Andre, her expression softened. "Andre? What are you doing here?"
Andre gave a short nod towards the woman in respect, before beginning to address his concerns. "Madame, I'm sorry for leaving Miss Daae behind and interrupting one of your sessions, but this was an emergency, and I wasn't sure what else I could do without your direct instructions. We have a problem back in New York, which requires your immediate attention." All of the girls began to whisper at the name of 'Daae'. Christine Daae was reputed as one of the deadliest assassins in the history of the Organization, and the first woman to be so. She was a legend among the young students.
Antoinette's sharp gaze silenced the gossiping girls, and finally pierced through Andre's troubled one, and with a nod, the head of the Organization dismissed her class. "Well, I'll be the judge of that. Ladies, you are dismissed. Andre, my office. Now." All of the girls presented a short bow, as Antoinette swept out of the training room, with Andre hot on her heels. Within a minute, the pair was locked safely in Antoinette's office, with the leader of the Organization seated behind her desk.
"Now, Andre. Tell me what all of this is about."
Andre swallowed, his throat suddenly feeling dry at the prospect of sharing the news he had. "W-well, Madame," Andre began slowly, "it seems as though Erik Destler has disappeared…"
Antoinette closed her eyes in sheer frustration of the stubborn composer's actions. Picking up the office phone on her desk, Antoinette dialed the scouting department's number. "Hello, this is Antoinette Giry. Yes, I need a trace on one of our Organization members. Erik Destler—he's one of mine, a dark red rose—last seen in New York. Get all of our contacts in the FBI and Scotland Yard looking for him, but do not alert the council that we are looking, and absolutely no contact is to be made with Mr. Destler. I just want to know where he is. Thank you."
Antoinette placed the phone back on the receiver, before reaching for the crystal decanter of scotch found on her desk, and pouring herself a glass. "I wonder what it is that upset Erik—he has never disobeyed an order, or left an assignment unfinished." Antoinette paused in pouring her scotch, as she studied the nervous Daae contact. "Anything else I need to know about this situation?"
"Well, Raoul de Chagny arrived a few days ago…"
Antoinette looked surprised at that. "So my Meg must have contacted Raoul, since I specifically instructed Christine not to bother the poor man, hmm? And then he came to 'rescue' his best friend, of course. And Erik was already half in love with poor Christine by then. Oh my…"
Andre looked uncomfortable. "From what Firmin and I have gathered, it seems as though Raoul has proposed to Christine… And Cat…Well, you see Madame, she was so heartbroken over something that Erik did, that Cat accepted Raoul's proposal. And she's expecting to retire immediately after this assignment. I think that… well- I believe that Erik Destler may have overheard their conversation up until when Cat accepted de Chagny's proposal. It also seems that someone has uncovered Christine Daae's identity."
Antoinette closed her eyes once more at the plan that Christine had come up with, but they shot open at the news concerning her adopted daughter's identity. "Was Christine injured?"
"No, Madame. However, one of her clients' bodies was found in her dressing room after a performance, and her stack of files went missing a few days beforehand. Raoul de Chagny has already confirmed with me that contact with our inspector in the NYPD has been made, and they are waiting for your instructions."
Antoinette closed her eyes in shock, massaging his temples. "Thank you, Andre," Antoinette said wearily. "Now start from the very beginning, and tell me in detail everything that has happened since Erik arrived on assignment."
…
Erik sighed, finally content, as the pilot announced overhead that they had successfully landed in Amsterdam. Finally, he would try and live a peaceful life. While he had ultimately be angry with Raoul, and desired above everything else to subject the blonde fop to some terrible accident, Erik knew that the moment he did that, the Organization would keep him on lock down. What he needed to do now was forget Christine Daae and his feeling for her. It would be like hitting the refresh button; he would take as much time as was needed before facing the wrath of Antoinette Giry. She would understand. He would forget Christine Daae, Erik repeatedly told himself firmly.
He would forget his heart.
