Chapter Thirteen - Change the Script
"Where's Angelique?" Christine asked as she entered the dining room the next morning.
"Not here," Erik growled, a foul mood permeating off of his being.
"…oh," she said, suddenly wary of the Phantom's disposition. "…well, I suppose-"
"Go."
"What?" she asked, stunned.
"Go, Christine. Go to Mamma Valerius, to the opera, to Raoul," he sneered, causing her to wince. "I do not want you back here unless you wish to return of your own free will."
She blinked, unable to believe what she heard. "…you mean that?"
"Yes," he hissed, encompassed in a black aura as he got up and stormed out.
Christine flinched as he slammed the door of his room, the organ suddenly thundering to life. "Oh dear," she whispered.
~OG~
Angelique rubbed the sleep out of her eyes as she awoke, her face sticky from tears. Though her stomach grumbled, she remained under the covers, drawing them over her head. She had absolutely no desire to do anything, to see anyone…
The sound of the secret door opening made her jump, her body rigid as she sat up to see who was her early visitor. A breath of relief escaped her as she saw a small, blonde figure step into the room. "Christine…"
"Angelique, I hope I didn't wake you," she apologized, the aroma of breakfast wafting out of her basket. "I thought we might eat and talk together…won't you come to my dressing room with me-? Heavens! What happened?! Have you been crying?!"
"W-What? N-No, no, of course not," she stammered, touching her face. "Why, what's wrong?"
"Your eyes are red," she said, helping her stand. "Did you have a nightmare?"
"Yes," she lied quickly. "Yes, an nightmare…about all sorts of strange things."
"Do you want to talk about it?" Christine asked, wrapping an arm around her.
"No…I can't really remember what happened…it just frightened me, that's all I know." She didn't dare utter a word about her feelings for Erik and how he had unconsciously reminded her that he still longed for Christine. "Let's go to your room, Christine. I need to walk, I'm feeling a bit stiff."
"Of course," she nodded. The two of them linked arms and left the room, walking past several stagehands as they prepared themselves for another day of work. Excusing themselves, they arrived at the dancers' hallway, waving to several girls as they got up and hurried to find breakfast. Passing La Carlotta and La Sorelli's rooms, Christine opened the door to her dressing room and ushered her friend inside.
"Make yourself comfortable," she encouraged her, locking the door before tugging a small table over and setting the basket upon it. "I'm so glad I found you. There's so much I want to say before I go-"
"Go? Go where?" Angelique asked, stunned by the news.
"I'm going to see Mamma Valerius," Christine explained with a smile. "I'm sure she's quite worried, even with Erik's notes."
"Oh, that will be nice," Angelique said, offering a tired smile to Christine. "What is it you wanted to talk about?"
The blonde girl removed the cloth that covered the warm baguette and several slices of bacon. Setting it upon the table, she sighed. "Angelique…I saw Raoul last night."
"Did you?" she asked, remembering how Erik had gone running after them the moment they appeared. "How did that go?"
"He's…he's insisting to know what's been going on," she confessed, offering her tea from the pot she had brought along. "He's desperately worried for me…he told me that his brother's quite concerned about you, actually."
"Oh?" Angelique asked, accepting her cup of tea.
"They're offering you sanctuary at their home until you find out what's happened with your uncle," she prodded on.
"Yes, I know," she nodded, buttering her bread.
Christine stared hard at her, making Angelique avert her eyes. "…you're not interested in Philippe de Chagny whatsoever, are you?"
"Not in the least," she answered honestly. "He's very kind, but I don't want to be told what to do anymore. I like being here."
"Mon Dieu," Christine muttered, eager to get away from the place.
"Wait a moment – Erik's letting you leave?" Angelique asked, remembering what Christine had mentioned moments before.
"Yes! He told me I could go," she beamed. "O-Of course, I shall return once I've had some time to myself with Mamma."
"Ah."
"…Angelique, what happened to you and Erik?" the singer asked gently.
"What?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at Christine. "What do you mean-?"
"You didn't come to Erik's house last night, and he was in a rather foul mood when I left," she informed her. "He started playing some frightening tune on his organ. I find you in your workroom with your eyes red…what's wrong? He didn't hurt you, did he?!"
"No, of course not." "Yes…yes, he did." "Really Christine, I'm fine. I just started working on some of the new costumes for Faust and got carried away. I didn't want to go stumbling in the dark, so I stayed in the room."
"Well…I do hope you'll go back to Erik soon," she said, tucking her hair behind her ear. "I'm worried about leaving him alone in such a state…he might hurt someone, or even himself!"
"I'll visit him," she answered, though she never stated when. "I promise."
~OG~
He swallowed another mouthful of the wine, glaring at the dark wall before him. Swishing the liquid in his glass as he tilted his wrist, he played a few mournful notes on the piano, his heart aching. "Imbécile," he muttered to himself, setting the glass down before hiding his unmasked face in his hands. "Erik has sent Christine away and frightened off Angelique…he shall never see them again…" Reaching for the edge of the piano, he plucked the note and rose he had gathered, gripping them tightly in his long, thin hand.
"There's always hope," a little voice within him chimed. "Just take these to her and apologize."
"Bah," he scoffed. "Apologize? Why should Erik do such a thing?"
"You ought to."
He frowned, wallowing in sorrow. "How could she forgive Erik for hurting her…for leaving her…?"
"You never know until you try."
Grumbling in frustration, he forced himself off of his perch and grabbed his mask, fixing his cravat before slipping his gifts into his jacket pocket. Snatching his cloak and hat, he ran out of the house and headed for the secret tunnel, not wanting to waste any time rowing across the lake. He moved faster than he ever had before, turning and bounding up and down stairways and corridors as though his life depended on it. Arriving at the door which led to Angelique's room, he placed his hand on the lever when he heard a familiar voice on the other side.
"I am glad to see you are well."
"And I'm very glad to see you, Daroga," Angelique cheerfully answered.
"Daroga!" Erik peeped through the hole in the wall, observing the two as they embraced. Jealousy instantly bubbled within his chest, his hands moving for the Punjab lasso at his belt.
"He let you go after all this time, then?" the Persian asked, stroking his beard in interest as he raised an eyebrow at her.
"Of course he did, he's not a monster," she answered lightly, unknowingly stabbing Erik through the chest. "I told you there was nothing to worry about-"
"Angelique, I have- Oh!" Madame Giry stood by the door and envelope in her hands. She stared at the Persian in disbelief. "…I did not realize you hand company."
"Oh, Madame Giry, meet Daroga. Daroga, meet Madame Giry," she introduced them, watching in amusement as the Persian bowed politely and Madame gave her usual curtsy, the two of them eyeing each other uncertainly. "Is something the matter?"
"No, I only came to leave this with you," Juliette Giry said, handing the envelope to the girl. "The Comte de Chagny asked that I give it to you."
"He did?" she asked, her brows furrowing as she accepted the item.
"I'll leave you to your work," Giry said kindly, excusing herself.
Once she was gone, the Daroga cleared his throat. "Since you are well, I shall also take my leave."
"Thank you for checking on me," she smiled, ushering him out. "Do stop by again."
"I shall, you can be certain of that," he nodded, bowing to her before walking down the hallway.
She watched him leave, smiling wryly as he appeared to vanish amongst the pillars and beams towards the back of the opera. "How does he manage to get away wandering about like that…?" she chuckled, shaking her head as she ripped the letter open. Shutting the door after her, she sat on her bed and read its contents, the light in her eyes dimming. With a sad smile, she slipped the letter under her pillow when another item at the foot of her bed caught her attention. Her eyes widened as she saw a glorious red rose, bursting in full bloom, lying atop a sealed envelop. Taking the flower in her fingers, she sniffed it, smiling at its fragrance. Setting it aside, she broke the wax seal on the paper and opened it.
"Dearest Angelique,
Erik is terribly sorry for having hurt you, in more ways than one it would appear. He understands that you are upset and will respect your wishes, but he hopes you will forgive him, perhaps not now, but someday.
…Erik cannot lie, he misses your presence and wishes you would return. Life is meaningless, dead, without you in it. You are the only friend Erik has that he truly depends on and cares for, and he is heartbroken for abusing your trust.
Please accept this rose as a mere token of Erik's undying concern and gratitude.
Your humble and obedient servant,
O.G."
"Oh Erik," she whispered, her smile growing as she read the paper and pressed it to her breast. Shaking her head, she glanced around, saying nothing as she set the paper aside and walked towards her latest project.
"Angelique…"
She gasped, spinning around as she heard his voice softly call her from the hidden door in the wall. "Erik?!"
"Angelique…" he spoke again, his voice low and mournful. "Erik is…very, very sorry."
"Erik, do come out of there," she insisted, walking towards the wall.
"Erik is not here," the wall informed her.
Rolling her eyes, she pressed the nail into the wall and waited for the door to slide open, a gasp escaping her as she saw that he truly wasn't there. "Erik?!"
"Yes?" he said, making her spin around with a squeak of fright.
"Erik, where are you?!" she demanded, her eyes scanning the room.
"Here," the desk called out to her.
"Or here," the ceiling suggested.
"No, here!" shouted the suit she had just finished.
"Erik!" she called, struggling to hide her laughter, forcing a frown on her face. "Just where are-?" She caught a snicker behind the suit, a grin growing on her lips. Walking towards it, she peeked behind it and smirked. "I suppose you wanted to make sure that I received your note?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.
Erik couldn't contain his laughter as he looked up at her. "Oh, oh, Angelique! Your face when…you…the door-!" he clutched his sides, shaking as he laughed. He was grateful he had crouched behind the mannequin in the shadows, for he laughed so hard he thought he might topple over.
Despite being irritated, she laughed with him, having missed his voice and presence. "Erik, you're just awful!"
Wiping the tears off of his mask, he inhaled deeply, struggling to regain control as he slowly stopped laughing. "Ah…yes, Erik is awful," he agreed, sighing as he stood up. The smile was gone from his face as he looked at her, his eyes showing all the sadness in the world. "Angelique…about last night…Erik-"
"I read your note, Erik," she said, shyly tucking a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. "…thank you, for the apology and the flower."
He allowed himself a small smile, hesitantly taking her hand in his. Raising it to his mouth, he pressed it to his lips. "…will you come home?"
"Yes, just not now," she shook her head. "It will look strange if I vanish in the middle of the day. I'll be back tonight, I promise."
"Angelique," he started, pausing for a second. "…you are not…mad with Erik anymore?"
She hugged her arms, shaking her head. "No, Erik…I'm not mad with you. I can't stay mad at you…but it did hurt. I mean, I thought that we-" "That we might have had a chance." "-That we were going to have a nice time together, and you suddenly go off and leave me alone. I didn't I would be bothered so much by it, but I was. It hurt, Erik, that's why I was upset."
He bowed his head, ashamed of himself, when he felt her embrace him. "But I just can't stay at you, Erik…you're all I have now."
A gasp was stuck in his throat as he felt her arms around him, her words ringing in his ears. She depended on him…she admitted it. Embracing her back, he whispered, "Erik shall make it up to you. He shall make supper this time."
"That's not necessary," she giggled, resting her head against his chest. "But thank you, I would like that." Pulling away from him, she clasped her hands together and said, "…I received a letter from the Comte de Chagny."
"I heard," he grumbled, his blood curdling at the thought of the man.
"Of course you did," she smirked. Her grin faded as she took his hand – making his heart flutter uncontrollably – and led him to her bed. Taking the letter from under the pillow, she handed it to him. "It's a letter from my Uncle Pierre that he forwarded."
He took it from her, reading the message.
"Monsieur le Comte de Chagny,
I cannot express my delight at hearing the news. If what you say is true that my little brother's daughter is well and staying at thePalais Garnier, then I ask that you keep watch over her. As you know, I am quite ill – my faithful butler is currently writing this letter at my request. While my sickness is not contagious, it is too long and tiresome a journey to ask that you send her this way, especially in this winter weather. If she is happy at the opera, then I ask that she remain there until I am well enough to return.
My little brother, Angelique's father, and I had a spat the last time we spoke, which is why she has never seen me…we were never able to reconcile in person before he passed away, but we did exchange letters. I have thought of her often but was unable to contact the family she was staying with. At last, God has granted me a second chance to redeem myself.
Please send my love to Angelique, and ask her to forgive me for taking so long to find her. You have my eternal thanks, monsieur.
Sincerely,
Comte Pierre Alexandre Louis Archambault."
"The poor man," Angelique whispered, shaking her head.
Erik reread the letter, his fingers tightening their hold on the sheet. "…An-Angelique…" She raised her eyes to his, waiting expectantly. "…Erik has not always been the best person he could be, but…but he would like you to consider his home yours. A sanctuary, if you will…u-until your uncle can come for you."
Her face lit up at his words and she was upon him once more, burying her face into his chest. "Merci, Erik," she mumbled, her breath hot on his shirt.
He shuddered in unexpected ecstasy, curling his hands into fists as he gulped. "Mon Dieu, self-control, self-control…!" "Th-Think nothing of it," he choked, straightening and turning away as she released him from her arms. "Uhm…Erik shall fetch you tonight then." She nodded, her smile causing her face to glow. "V-Very well…until tonight." Pulling his cloak close to his chest, he hurried back through the tunnels, his breath coming out in spurts. His mind swirled with inspiration, his hands itching to grasp "Don Juan Triumphant". "I need to make some additions…"
~OG~
"That was delicious, Erik," Angelique beamed. "I'm afraid I'll burst!"
He chuckled, getting up and helping her collect the dishes. "Merci. Erik is glad you enjoyed the meal." He entered the kitchen with her and set the dirtied utensils into the sink, a strange sense of contentedness washing over him. He had calmed since he came back from seeing her that afternoon, working feverishly on his opera as well as making the evening meal for her. Now, with her standing beside him, he felt that all was right with the world once more, everything in balance. "…Angelique, Erik should like you to see an addition to 'Don Juan', as well as sing it."
"Me, sing a piece of opera?" she giggled, shaking her head. "I can't sing operatically, Erik."
"Erik shall be the judge of that," he said, shyly inching his hand to hers. "Please…?"
She sighed, a defeated smile on her lips. "Only for you, Erik."
His eyes widened as a beautiful smile grew on his lips. "Only for you, Erik." How he wanted to take those words and grasp them to his heart for eternity! Taking her hand in his, he led her to his room, selecting one of the newest pages he had written. Placing it on the stand upon the organ, he motioned for her to sit beside him. She did so, her arm brushing against him, his hairs standing on end while his blood raced. "The tune goes like this," he said, eager to get his mind off certain topic that started rushing through his mind. He played it for her, watching out of the corner of his eye as her brows furrowed, showing that she was concentrating on the notes. He was still teaching her how to read music, but he noticed that if he played a tune a certain number of times, she would pick up on it and usually hit the notes on key. She had a remarkable memory and was able to pick up on the music rather quickly. "I'll play it again," he said, doing so on the organ keys, the corner of his mouth twitching into a grin as he watched her nod her head in time with the music. "Again?"
"Once more, s'il vous plait," she requested. "I've almost got it."
He complied with her request and let her silently read the music. "Whenever you are ready."
She nodded, her signal to begin. Playing the note, he eagerly listened to her voice.
"Though trial and pain you have put me through,
I cannot deny you love.
I only can hope that you'll see in me
What you most desire, my J-"
She stopped as she arrived at the last word, "Juan", his brows furrowing. "What's the matter? You were doing wonderfully-"
"I can't hit that note," she shook her head, biting her lip anxiously. "I'll choke, or maybe croak like La Carlotta."
He laughed at this, shaking his head. "They only way you would be able to croak like that is if I made you," he winked, casting his voice so that the inkwell on his desk declared, "co-ack!" He smiled as she giggled at this, placing his hand upon her shoulder comfortingly. "You needn't be afraid of Erik, Angelique. He is your friend and teacher, and you are doing very well for a beginner. Besides, Erik knows you can hit that note."
"How?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at him with a playful grin on her lips.
"He has heard you sing it," he said confidently.
"When? Where?" she asked, skeptical.
"Just the other day, Erik heard you singing in the bath," he smirked, watching her blush. Immediately, he also began to blush. "Erm…Erik apologizes…"
"I thought I was alone…I was being silly and pretending I was Christine singing one of Margarita's parts," she confessed, covering her mouth with her hand. "Oh dear…"
"Erik is sorry," he repeated, looking away. "But…Erik knows you can do it."
He heard her inhale deeply, and he began to wonder if he should stop the little lesson, when suddenly, her voice rang out,
"Though trial and pain you have put me through,
I cannot deny you love.
I only can hope that you'll see in me
What you most desire, my Juan!"
Her voice bounced off the walls of his darkened room, running through him like ripples of water. She gasped for breath, her hand resting on her throat. "Oh…oh dear. I ruined it, didn't I-?"
"Mon Dieu, that was…perfect!" he exclaimed, his head whipping towards her, his eyes wide with awe, his voice breathless.
"Erik, it couldn't have been-" she shook her head.
"It was," he insisted, standing up, envisioning her voice as a soft, golden wisp of smoke twirling above him. "Your voice is not like Christine's, it's not operatic, it's true…but it is strong, warm, clear…like a bell…" He reached into the air, his fingers curling around the imaginary wisp as he closed his eyes in bliss. "…it filled Erik's soul, Angelique…"
She shivered at the tone of his voice, her eyelids fluttering close as she hugged her arms, now covered in goosebumps. Tilting her head downward, her chin pressed to her shoulder, she absorbed his praise and felt her skin tingle. Her heart thumped happily within her chest, her lips stretching into a smile.
Erik opened his eyes at last and turned towards Angelique when he saw her. His heart leapt, his throat dried, his eyes widened. She was a combination of innocence and sensuality, sitting beside him in pure bliss. Her hair curled over her shoulder, her neck and collarbone exposed, a modest amount of cleavage showing as she hugged herself. It was her lips, however, that caught his attention the most – curled upward in a smile, unpainted, ready to be kissed…His breath hitched as he saw this, forcing himself to look away. "Ah…Angel-?"
A loud ring shot through the air, making him stiffen. He growled, storming off.
"What is it?" she asked, opening her eyes and watching him leave.
"We have a visitor," he frowned. "And I'm fairly certain I know who it is." Stopping in his tracks, he cast her a reluctant glance. "Erik must go and greet our…guest, but…wait for him?"
"I'll be here," she smiled, getting up from the bench and moving towards him. Standing upon her tiptoes, she kissed his masked cheek and left for the kitchen. "I'll be doing the dishes!" she called out before vanishing.
Erik stood perfectly still, the thrill of the kiss washing over him. Weak at the knees, his vision slightly blurry, he struggled to fight off the daze before grabbing his cloak and hurrying outside. "She kissed Erik," he thought, a smile plastered to his face…until he saw a figure standing on the other side of his lake. The instantly disappeared, a scowl replacing it. "Damn it all, Daroga, Erik is busy! Go away!"
"Not until we talk, Erik," the man shouted back, crossing his arms over his chest.
Growling, Erik got in the boat and rowed furiously towards the other side, glaring at his not quite friend and not quite enemy. "This had better be important!"
"I'm concerned for Mademoiselle Archambault, Erik," he said, looking at him sternly. "It's not safe for her to linger about the opera with her stepfamily hovering around."
"Her stepfamily is not any of your concern," Erik huffed, waving him off. "I shall be taking care of her from now on."
"You cannot force her to-"
"But Erik doesn't, Daroga, don't you see?!" he all but shouted at the man, torn between wanting to laugh and strangle the man. Gripping his shirt, feeling his heart beating from within, he said softly, "Angelique wants to be Erik. She comes freely, she smiles and laughs with Erik, she touches him…she kisses him," he whispered, touching his masked cheek.
The Persian's eyes appeared to pop out of his face when he heard the news. "K-Kisses-?!"
"Hands, forehead, cheek, Daroga. Nothing like…that," he shook his head, blush appearing under his mask. He sat on the pavement, looking back across the lake towards his home, a strange tingling sensation floating in his chest. "…for the first time in Erik's life, he feels…alive. He's happy…"
The Persian sat beside him, looking out in the same direction Erik did. "…then I am glad for you, Erik, truly…but do not use her."
"What?" he asked, facing the foreigner.
"Do not use her as you did with Miss Daae. Do not toy with her emotions," he warned him.
Erik laughed harshly. "Erik? Abuse her feelings? It is possible it could be the other way around…" His tone softened as he remembered her. "…but Angelique would not do such a thing."
"Angelique, hmm? She lets you call her by her first name?"
"Yes," he answered quietly.
They sat there for minutes, listening to the water lap against the dock. The cool air swirled around them as they sat silently, each raveled in his own thoughts. Erik contemplated his feelings for Angelique, especially after what the Daroga had said to him. Just what was she? They called each other friends, they treated each other kindly and argued as if they had always known one another, and yet, there were times – such as the moment they shared in his room by the organ – that he felt so inexplicably wonderful that he couldn't place it as just having friendly feelings for her. They were stronger at times than any sensation he got when he was with Christine…
"Erik."
"What?"
"This shan't be the last time you see me," he said gravely.
"No doubt of that," Erik grumbled, rolling his eyes.
"I shall leave you for now…" Getting up, the Persain bowed to Erik and walked away, soon swallowed by the shadows. "Remember Erik, don't abuse her trust or feelings."
Snarling at the final comment, his mood soured, the Phantom returned to his dinghy and got to work rowing back, eager to get away from his old acquaintance. "He doesn't know anything! Nosy Daroga," he muttered. "He should learn to mind his own business!"
When at last he arrived, he tied the boat to the dock and pulled the key from his pocket. Opening the door, he was struck with the sweet, thick aroma of chocolate, making him blink in awe. Shutting the door, he followed the scent into the dining room when he stopped at the sight of a large, luscious cake, the name "Erik" written with frosting and adorned with strawberries on the surface. There, standing beside it, was Angelique, her hair twisted into a sloppy bun atop her head as she smiled at him.
"Surprise, Erik."