"So how is everything going?"
"With what?"
He knew what. It wasn't like he hadn't been contemplating it over and over in his mind since he had been given the job. But he could still stall as much as possible. He was in the worst possible situation right now, and he wanted to buy as much time as he could.
"You know what."
"Do I?" God, he sounded stupid. He was effectively avoiding the man's eyes as they sat across from each other in the dark office that the Count had. If it weren't for the darkness, he's sure he would be able to see the heavy smoke that was floating out of the cigar his employer was smoking. He took a sip of his whiskey and looked down, swirling it with a motion of his hand.
He heard a slam on the table and sharply looked up to see Phillipe with his fist on the table and a furious expression on his red, lean face. "The godforsaken girl, Erik. Raoul's little play thing, the job you were given." His words were loud and heavy, his perfect teeth accentuating each word.
He opened his mouth and looked down, not daring to look at the frustrated face any longer. Should he just say it? Or should he lie? No, he couldn't lie. This was a situation that he couldn't possibly lie about. Sure, it may work for a few hours, just enough time to flee the country and, hey, you know, maybe take a certain young brunette with him too...
"I can't do it." He was actually surprised with how strong and confident his voice sounded, especially with the way his palms were sweating. At least it was out in the open now, up for discussion.
He heard heavy breathing. That was never good. Especially from a man who had the power to kill somebody so easily and not get blamed in the slightest. Why had he ever thought this was a good idea?
He sneaked a peek through his eyelashes and immediately looked down. The man looked ready to pounce. He heard slight chuckling, a low sound that grated through Erik's ears. "You..." He chuckled some more, "you can't do it?" He took a swig of his drink and raised his voice. "I employed you to get rid of this thing once and for all. You've done it before, why is this common whore anything different?"
Erik unconsciously bristled at that and gritted his teeth before looking up and placing his glass on the over piled desk in front of him. Despite the mask that managed to cover half of his ungodly face, the Count still managed to sense his resentment.
"Oh,"- again with the laughing- " so you, ugly forsaken Erik,"- he said this slowly, deliberately- "have developed a fondness for this hussy. How hilarious this is." He laughed again and Erik had to look down in embarrassment at being so singlehandedly humiliated. The laughing cut through the smoke and pierced Erik's ears, making his heart beat faster and his head start to hurt.
"Look, I'm sorry, De Chagny, but-"
"No." He had stopped laughing altogether now, instead his voice taking on a condescending yet deathly tone. "There's no need to be sorry. After all, you couldn't help it, right?" He was smirking, Erik didn't even have to look up to tell. "But, Erik, surely you see my problem? I mean, I gave you this task as an easy €25000 straight in your pocket, and even you, my most trusted hitman, can't fulfil this. First I lose my beloved brother to this opera rat, the very relationship in fact that I employed you to exterminate, and now I lose you as well? Why, what is a poor Count to do?"
Phillipe stood up then, walking around the room and raking his fingers over several artefacts on the walls around Erik. He could hear the man behind him, and he looked up and braced his shoulders, ready for a fight if needed. After all, Erik was strong and he could outwit the Count any day. But, right now, he needed to get out of this place. He could barely breathe, and the alcohol had only served to make his head hurt more than usual. He couldn't concentrate in a room like this, and the constant, repetitive noise of the Count's fancy shoes clicking around the room was making him go insane.
"I need to leave." He stood up without realising it and immediately regretted doing so when he felt a hand on his shoulder, pushing him down with more force than he thought necessary.
"Oh, you don't need anything, Erik." Phillipe walked around the desk and sat down in his chair, twirling an unlit cigarette between his fingers. "After all, you know what you are. You know why you're so good at this business." He lit the cigarette. "You're disgusting. See, that's why you don't need anything, Erik. Because you're not worth anything."
Erik lowered his head, his heart dropping in his chest. He had heard all of this before, of course. But that didn't mean it didn't hurt as much as the first time.
"But, more importantly, let's get back to what I need." Erik lifted his head. "You know what this is, and you need to do it. Or else. I don't care about your stupid feelings, I don't care what you think you want or need. I'll tell you what you want and need. You need to get the fuck out of my office and do what you have been assigned."
Erik didn't need to be told twice. He stood up sharply and turned around, heading straight for the door. He grasped the door handle and, whilst opening the door, heard the man inhale the and exhale the smoke from his cigar. He quickly stormed out of the room. As he walked away, he's sure he could hear chuckling echoing from inside the office.
Exiting the grey building, he had never been so happy to feel the cool night air of Central Paris on his heated face.