Erik pounded the keys of his organ in frustration then buried his face in his hands. Ever since Christine had left, he had no light, no happiness, no music. His angel and his inspiration had abandoned him to the cold, damp cellar of this opera house for a life of luxury with a boy who knew nothing of love.
For an Opera Ghost, there was surprisingly little music in his life now. Without Christine, he had no muse, and no muse meant he had no inspiration for his compositions. The only way he was able to tell that time had even passed was the ever changing opera productions.
Days like today, the hole in his heart consumed him. Days like today, he felt half alive, a shell of a person, more ghost than actual man. Days like today, Erik would spend locked up in Christine's old dressing room, remembering the love he had lost.
He began the journey upstairs, wishing for nothing more than for his angel to be back in his own arms. Lost in his own thoughts, Erik nearly walked into the room. At the last moment, he realized that there was someone already in there.
A girl with loose red curls was staring at him. He froze in horror until he remembered that the one-way glass of the mirror meant she only saw her own reflection. But who was she and why was she in Christine's dressing room?
One closer look was all he needed. She wore a white leotard, just like all the other ballerinas, but Erik didn't recognize her. Whoever she was, she was new, and apparently had been given this room to use. But not for long, he would make sure of that.
"Madame Giry!" he snapped, bursting into her office. She turned around and faced him, dread on her face. Obviously she knew exactly what his problem was. "How dare you," he hissed. "How dare you give that room to some ballet rat!"
"She isn't just some ballet rat, she's a young girl!" Madame Giry responded just as harshly. "You always want to be treated like a human being, and yet you dehumanize everyone else just as much as they do you."
"Don't you dare change the subject. I want that girl out of there. She has no business in that room."
"Where else am I supposed to put her?" Madame Giry demanded. "There's no other place for her to use."
His eyes narrowed. "That's not my problem."
Erik spun on his heel and started to leave, but she called out to him. "Erik, Christine is never coming back. She made her choice, and it's long past time for you to grow up and accept that fact."
He half turned so only his porcelain mask was visible to her, but the flames of fury that danced in his eyes screamed volumes. His jaw tightened; if it were anyone but Madame Giry, he would have attacked, but since it was her, Erik stayed put but his voice was dangerous. "Don't test me."
"Erik, she has no family, no money. The opera is the only thing that's keeping her off the streets. She doesn't have the skills or the knowledge to survive on her own."
"So now you're trying to use compassion?" he asked incredulously.
"I'm trying to get you to use your heart like a decent person," Madame Giry replied.
How dare she talk of using his heart! He had loved before and received nothing but betrayal. "I have no heart," he retorted bitterly.
"We both know that's not true."
He just glared at her. "Either you get rid of her or I will."
"Honestly, can't you dance?" Jacqueline demanded.
Ella could feel her cheeks flush. She bowed her head in embarrassment and whispered "I'm sorry," for what felt like the thousandth time that morning.
"Leave her alone," Meg said angrily. "You were just as bad when you started, probably worse."
"I started when I was nine, so by the time I was old enough to actually be in a production, I knew what I was doing and didn't look like a bumbling oaf."
"Go terrorize someone else," Meg ordered.
"She's right you know," Ella cried miserably.
"Ella, don't you listen to her. You're doing fantastic for someone with your level of experience. The fact you've gotten this much down so quickly is just amazing. Especially since we've already learned all the choreography for this, and you're being tossed in mid-production."
"But I keep messing up," she protested. "You guys can't keep learning your routine if I can't catch up to what you've already got down."
"It's your first day," Meg insisted. "Don't worry about it. Everything's fine. Really, things will get better for you. You're still learning."
"But Jacqueline said…"
"Jacqueline is horrible to everyone. She finds your flaws then makes you feel bad about every little thing. Honestly, she's worse than La Carlotta and no one thought that was possible. You're actually a great dancer, and she probably thinks you're going to upstage her."
Ella shook her head. "That will never ever happen."
Meg gave her a reassuring smile. "You'll be fine."
Just then, the rehearsal ended. "Learn to dance," Jacqueline snapped as she sauntered past.
"You'll be fine," Meg repeated, though seemingly less sure of herself.
Erik watched the petite redhead run from the stage. Silent as a shadow, he followed her back to her dressing room. He watched her from his old place behind the mirror as she sat in front of her vanity, buried her face in her arms and began to sob.
"What are you even doing here?" she asked herself, staring at her own tear stained reflection. "You don't belong here. Jacqueline's right. Why do you even bother?"
He tilted his head to one side in curiosity. He had watched her all day, and although he hated to admit it, Meg was right. This girl was talented, and with a little practice, could probably match if not surpass, Jacqueline's or even Meg's skill.
But that didn't change the fact that she was still in here. No matter how talented, he wanted her out. Although if Jacqueline continued to terrorize her like this, he probably wouldn't even have to put any effort into getting rid of her.