My Forever and Always (The Phantom of The Opera)

Chapter 9 - Ready to work!

Erik's POV

I had a day unlike any other. For the first time in my years of solitary living under the Opera House, I had a company, a pleasant company. It was the most absurd yet beautiful encounter in my life. I was not met with loathing eyes, pity or even fear. This pant-wearing lady whose diction was just as erratic as her behaviour, truly had a heart of gold which even I, the lonely Phantom could feel. The mundane life around my Opera House has suddenly changed ... for better.

"Practically you are not alone. I am here standing with you right now. That makes two of us and therefore not alone. There, point proven."

Something touched deep within me when I heard those words. Clarissa spoke those words without even thinking twice. Yet these words were the most compassionate words I have ever heard. Her words resonated in me – You are not alone. She looked me straight into the eyes with her usual smile. I heard my heart beat in my head as I walked up to her. She looked radiant under the moonlight but I was at loss of words. I stepped closer and now her smile faded. She looked up at me. I took her hand in mine and said a silent thank you in my head because my words felt numb. I don't think I can ever figure out how Clarissa understood what was in my head, because she returned the gesture by holding my hand with both of hers, and giving it a little knowing squeeze. I never felt such tranquillity in years. I felt peace and warmth in company of a strange woman and it made my heart soar.

....

I was wrong, very wrong. My peace and sleep were guillotined the minute Clarissa reached my home to say, "Gosh I need new clothes!". My home was now cluttered with fabrics all around the place. Other than unloading costumes and gowns kept under the Opera House, I had to make four trips to the seamstress room above the ground. My biggest task was to explain this girl how to wear women's clothing. I'm livid.

Every piece of clothing earned ten different opinions from Clarissa. It's always "too tight, too dull, too long, too fancy, too plain, very bridesmaid, very boring, very grandma, very tacky, so much frills, weird cut, this is like Lizzie Bennet (who in the world is Lizzie Bennet), 'Swell', 'cute', 'yuck', 'meh'" and countless others that my humble mind couldn't keep track of. How dare she reduce me to a menial dress-fetcher?

When I finally realised I had enough of running around and being her errand-boy, I walked up ready to tell who runs this place.

"I think I've had enough-" A pink satin scarf flew at my face. That is it, it's time to get my lasso.

Clarissa ran out of her room and almost shouted, "Yay, I've got my wardrobe ready!"

Before I could glare at her long enough, she shot to her feet and grabbed my hand. She pulled me and made me sit on a chair.

"Alright Erik, be prepared. Today you have the honour to witness the greatest Fashion Show of this century. Literally, because there are no fashion shows in this century." Clarissa clasped her hands together as she excitedly declared.

"A what again? You must know my patience ran thin long ago I-"

"Shhh, I'll fix the music." Clarissa ran back to her room and bought a brick like object and her 'phone'. A few lights glimmered around both the objects in her hand and a weird sound started playing out of it. It was so loud that I flinched.

"So, did you just call that abomination playing from the brick 'music'? I think noise is the word you are looking for." I said.

Clarissa contorted her face in an expression that looked like she was clearly not amused. She walked back and came out in a beautiful white dress. When did she fix this? Her hair flowed freely around her shoulder and she looked like she had light-makeup on. She walked like she was next in line for the throne to all of Europe. This went on to almost eight different kinds of dresses, and Clarissa altered her hair in various styles while walking out in each on them. She smiled and giggled and stopped right in front of me to give her 'pose'. The sound now suddenly seemed to make sense as I understood it to be an upbeat and exciting rhythm with some familiar and some unfamiliar instruments.

I didn't realise it until I caught myself smiling back at Clarissa's ridiculous shows. It wasn't all too bad, I think.

That's when Clarissa walks up to me and says, "Well all this Victorian clothing makes me feel like a princess."

"That's really good to know. Though your uniquely charming walk just now suggested you think yourself as the Empress." I retorted.

Clarissa laughed and looked up to me to say, "Wow, someone is joking these days."

Isn't she right? I actually am. How amusing.

She brings back attention to herself with a clap, "Alright! I always wanted to try ballroom dance or waltz. I think I'm perfectly dressed for it too! Erik, do you know how to do it?"

"I know but I suppose this isn't the most ideal time for a ball dance. Don't you have a job to look for tomorrow morning? I must say you aren't the most disciplined personnel to have in my Opera House"

"Oh come on Erik just teach me some basics. Don't be such Karen."

"A what now?"

"Yeah got the music fixed." Clarissa ignored me and tinkered with the brick-like object and now a high tempo orchestral piece started playing. If I didn't know any better, I would believe she is a sorceress.

I lead Clarissa around the empty space and slowly led her to the movements. Her left hand was placed on my right shoulder and my right hand on her waist. We slowly swayed to the music and Clarissa nervously looked down at her feet to see if she got her footing correct. I taught her a few more movements and she learnt surprisingly fast. Now that she knew all the steps, we both hurried about to catch on the tempo. This caused her to step on my toes a couple times and she looked up at me wincing with a sorry-look on her face. One time she almost tripped on the hem of her skirt and I caught her quickly by her waist. She giggled at her own mistake but evidently repeated it many times too, not that I was complaining. Her inadequate dance skills didn't stop her to engage in sly and sarcastic banters with me. With her I freely laughed about and danced the night away like I didn't have any other care in this world. The music shifted on its own to slow piano and violin piece. It was for good because with a slow waltz Clarissa's mistakes reduced a lot. We gracefully danced around to the slow and beautiful rythm.  It felt like I was just another person deserving happiness and all my problems were momentarily drowned. Clarissa shyly looked up at me and smiled happily. I felt myself smiling back to her.

This was a long day but I felt something akin to joy.

Back To Clarissa's POV

The morning fled by much easily than I thought. Erik led me to a passage that ended outside the Opera House. I walked up the stairs to Opera Populaire, not the first time doing so but my heartbeat thundered in my head. Erik gave me crash course this morning on some common greetings and mannerism but I could barely swallow my breakfast under all that pressure. The time since I approached Monsieur Lefèvre till I was appointed and taken to Monsieur Pierre, the Stage Director went by quickly. Pierre was a man in his mid-twenties who was an extremely talented artist. He was almost a prodigy and exceptional worker since it wasn't common to be appointed as the Stage Director at such a young age. He was a tall and handsome looking Frenchman, with brown hair and eyes. I met the Assistant Stage Director Robert Dawson who actually came here from England. He too was in his early twenties and was more than glad to know that I can speak English. Robert, the blue-eyed dark-haired colleague was appointed to train me and assign all my immediate tasks. Robert was quite amicable with a classic British accent and humour. We quickly became friends and he gave me my first few tasks of the day. I must say it was much easier than I thought. I was mostly assigned tasks that were quick errands and filling in paint to huge canvases of backdrops. I was glad that it was simple enough to follow and I earned quick praises from both Pierre and Robert. I made multiple quick trips to the Prima Donna room and check on the mirror. Nothing happened. I once thought I heard a click-sound behind the mirror so I walked up to it and made a funny-face at it. That earned me a deep and familiar chuckle from the other side.

Later that afternoon Pierre introduced me Madame Giry and the head Seamstress Madame Marie Bernard. After a quick meet and greet with most of the employees, I was informed that as a new intern, I have to help out the hospitality team on the day of the weekend show. My work basically included waiting on the noble men and women who occupied higher boxes and seats (VIP seats equivalents) in the Opera. The hospitality team was running low on hands and I didn't hesitate to oblige.

The week busily passed by and soon it was the day of my first show at this Opera.