A week later, Erik was surprised to find himself watching the new girl again. She had actually stayed longer than he had expected. Jacqueline threw everything she could at her, but the girl just took it with a straight face. Well until she got into her dressing room and sobbed her heart out, although Erik was fully aware she thought she was alone.
This complicated things for him. Part of him wanted to see how long it was before she snapped and either broke down fully or lashed out, but the other part of him wanted her gone, and wanted her gone now.
He watched as Jacqueline decided to confront the new girl yet again. The dark haired girl moved just enough out of place so that the two collided. "Watch it!" she snapped. Things like this happened more and more frequently, but as usual, the new girl just murmured an apology.
"Hey leave her alone!" Meg had spent the past few days trying to stand up for her since no one else would. "It's not Ella's fault! You weren't in the right spot."
"Alright that's enough!" Madame Giry interrupted before the fight could go any further. "Jacqueline, you were off, you're supposed to be there. And as for the rest of you, you look like you've never danced a day before in your lives. You're going to do it over and over again until all of you can get it right."
As the ballerinas began their routine again, Erik found himself amazed as the redhead almost seemed to vanish before eyes yet again. She perfected the one art of disappearing that he knew he never could: vanishing in plain sight. Although she learned the steps faster than anyone had expected her dancing had become utterly average. She was neither awful nor spectacular; she did absolutely nothing to draw attention to herself. But he could see that she danced effortlessly, and to a well trained eye, she was just as good, if not better, than the best. The only thing holding her back from dominating the stage was herself. But why?
Ella was relieved when Madame Giry decided they had improved enough to end their rehearsal. Jacqueline's constant harassment was really starting to bother her. She couldn't figure out what she had done to attract her bitterness.
Lost in her own thoughts, Ella jumped when a hand touched her shoulder. "Hey, Jacqueline's just nasty to all the new people. She just sees you as a threat her position," Meg explained, as if she could read Ella's mind. "She'll stop eventually."
Before she could respond, the managers walked in, deep in conversation with a man Ella had never seen before. Everything about him screamed money, from his perfectly styled, glossy chestnut hair, to his fashionable clothes, to the air of dignity and slight arrogance that surrounded him. He glanced over at the group of dancers, and when his gaze passed over Ella, he smiled and winked before turning back to his discussion. "Ooh, I think someone likes you," Meg whispered excitedly.
"I don't even know who that is," Ella replied, looking at the ground in embarrassment.
"That's the patron, Archer Dubois. He's here all the time with the managers. After the Vicomte de Chagny left, he replaced him. Isn't he handsome?"
"I suppose so," Ella mumbled, blushing furiously. "But he's obviously wealthy, and I'm just a chorus girl. Even if there was something to that, and I rather doubt there was there's no way there could ever be anything between us."
"You never know," Meg insisted. "Raoul de Chagny married Christine, even though he was a Vicomte and she was a ballerina here."
"She was also prima donna for a time. That's different," she protested.
Meg gave her an encouraging smile. "Maybe someday you will be."
"Your mother said the same thing."
"See?" Meg said with a laugh. "My mother can spot talent from a mile away. If she said that, that means you have a lot of potential."
"But I can't perform in front of people!"
"You're a dancer. How can you not perform in front of people?" her friend asked.
"Dancing's different. I'm part of a group, I blend in. I can't stand people watching me, just me. I can't be the center of attention, I freak out." Ella knew that Meg didn't seem to understand. "I can't explain it."
"Well, it's no matter. We already have a star anyway. Now come on, let's go or we'll miss dinner."
Ella shook her head. "I'm not hungry. You go ahead. I just want to spend a little time alone."
Meg looked at her curiously. "Are you sure?"
"Go, I'll be fine," Ella insisted with a wave of her hand.
"Alright, if you'll okay. I'll see you later." Meg flashed her one last smile before walking away.
A prima donna? Her? Ella toyed with the idea. She would love to be able to sing for the world. To hear the thunderous applause, all for her. Closing her eyes, Ella walked back onto the now deserted stage and pictured it. Alone, all eyes on her… just staring at her… watching her. With a gasp, her eyes snapped back open, her daydream shattered. There was no way she could ever do that. Even eyes she was imagining was enough to make her clam up.
With a sigh, Ella knew she was doomed to be forever in the chorus, trapped by a cage of her own shyness. She looked around the empty theater once more before singing for the only person who ever heard her. Herself.
"Green finch and linnet bird,
Nightingale, blackbird,
How is it you sing?
How can you jubilate,
Sitting in cages,
Never taking wing?
Outside the sky waits,
Beckoning, beckoning,
Just beyond the bars.
How can you remain,
Staring at the rain,
Maddened by the stars?
How is it you sing
Anything?
How is it you sing?
Green finch and linnet bird,
Nightingale, blackbird,
Teach me how to sing.
If I cannot fly,
Let me sing."
Oh God, that voice! That angelic voice! It was just as beautiful as…no he wasn't going to go there. Erik leaned over the rail of Box Five, wondering if what he was hearing could possibly be real. How could she keep such a heavenly voice hidden like that?
Erik closed his eyes in ecstasy and let her song surround him. He could help her, he could teach her to get over her stage fright, he could make that voice his, he could…no! He had been through that before and had his heart ripped to shreds. He didn't need another betrayal. Besides, he told himself, this girl wouldn't fall for the angel trick, not like she had. It would be better if he just walked away. But how could he just leave her confined to the anonymity of the chorus? She was a flower, waiting to bloom, a songbird, too afraid to take wing. That seemed more cruel than anything.
Erik was torn, an internal screaming match going on in his head. There was so much he could do for her, but there were even more ways for this girl to hurt him. He couldn't afford to get attached, he knew the price. He had paid dearly already and couldn't bear the thought of doing it again. And yet, he felt the need to risk everything once more.
"You have a lovely voice." Ella yelped in surprise. She thought she was alone. Her heart pounding, she searched for the source of the masculine voice that had interrupted her, but couldn't see anyone.
"Where are you?" she asked. "Show yourself!"
"As you wish," the voice said with an amused chuckle.
"I don't see you," Ella said, looking around wildly when no one appeared. "Where are you hiding?"
"Behind you," came the reply whispered in her ear. She had to clamp her hands over her mouth to keep from screaming in shock. Whirling around, she saw a man half hidden behind some scenery. The half of his face that she could see was handsome, with a strong jawline, slick black hair, and mesmerizing green eyes.
"Who…who are you?" she managed to stammer, breaking eye contact.
"Someone who knows talent," he responded evasively. "And you mademoiselle, have one of the most beautiful voices I have ever had the pleasure of listening to." Ella could feel her face get hot. He wasn't supposed to have heard her at all.
She wondered who he could be, she didn't think she had seen him before. Trying to get a closer look at his face, Ella took a step closer, but he retreated back a step into the shadows. Before he could get any further away, she rushed towards him, but froze when she saw the white mask on the other side of his face. "You're…you're the…the Phantom of the Opera." Her eyes wide, she reached instinctively for the mask.
"Indeed," he said, calmly catching her wrist and pulling it away from his face, her fingers just barely brushing the cool porcelain. "I wouldn't do that if I were you."
Ella twisted out of his grip and backed up against the wall, her heart hammering in her chest. She had heard the stories. What was he going to do to her? Kidnap her? Kill her? Instead of either, he surprised her by disappearing into the shadows. When he didn't reappear, Ella turned and ran, grateful she was still alive.