Porcelain

17

"Oh..well it's a pleasure." Charles said with a smile while looking at Fleurette. She quickly smiled at him and leaned back in the chair. Her smile and his dropped when yelps were heard from in front of them. Eleanor twirled around to see what the commotion was as well.

Several sand bags had seemingly fallen from the runway and now laid on the stage. Fleurette stood up and ventured past Charles and stood in the aisle. Eleanor barely registered her standing beside her. If the sand bags falling weren't enough a backdrop collapsed and draped down onto the stage too. The dancers barely managed to run out of the way of the enveloping material.

Fleurette turned and looked at Charles as he spoke, "So it is true? This place really is haunted." Eleanor paled slightly, sure she'd listened to the people who inhabited the opera house alongside her. But she never actually believed in their words.

"Eleanor come back and help, Fleurette show your guest out and help too." Madame Giry's voice sounded over the space. Eleanor walked up to the stage quickly after saying a quick bye to Charles.

Fleurette walked down the aisle and towards the exit. "Thank you for visiting me."

"You're welcome."

"Good bye, Charles," Fleurette smiled and turned to leave. He waved a hand at her and walked down the street. She walked back into the main space and walked down the aisle. Standing she frowned, she couldn't visibly see what she could help with. Stagehands had appeared and were lifting the fallen backdrop off of the stage. Others were carrying the sand bags. Looking up to the runway people were already up there reattaching them to their original positions.

It wasn't long until rehearsals picked back up again. Fleurette slipped away and walked down the corridor. She passed a few people who didn't even spare her a second glance. Turning and walking down the stairs she kept on heading downwards. Stopping at the bottom, she looked around to make sure no one was around before walking through a doorway and walking down another set of stairs. It was only now when she got to this level of the building that she picked up her pace and was practically running down the corridors and stairs in this labyrinth.

There was a distinct pulling for her to find Erik, she really wanted to know the reason for his sudden destructive behaviour. Wincing when she tripped and scrapped her hands, Fleurette slowly knelt and looked at her hands. They stung and spots of blood started to trickle down her wrists. Gritting her teeth and standing back up she walked quickly down the last set of stairs. Stopping at the edge of the lake, she squinted her eyes through the dark. "Erik?!" She shouted, a shadow flitted past a set of candles. Yet unlike last time there was no sounds of the boat travelling towards her.

Fleurette shifted her weight from one leg to another and looked up at the dark ceiling. Pulling her sleeves down the best she could she walked forward and shuddered. The dark water was freezing, kicking herself away from the stones behind her, she slowly swam forward. It didn't take long for the cold of the water surrounding her to seep through her. Fleurette tried desperately to stop her teeth from chattering but failed miserably.

Across on the other shore, Erik ran a hand through his hair. Out of curiosity he had ventured out of his home and gone up to see how the new rehearsals were going. The last thing he expected to see was that young man sitting and idly trying to talk to Fleurette. The only thing which made the moment sting more was Eleanor seemingly encouraging him. Fleurette looked utterly unamused by the whole thing. But nonetheless the annoyance he felt towards the young man was taken out on surrounding objects.

Stopping his pacing Erik frowned, there was distinct quiet pattering noises. Turning slowly he frowned. Nothing seemed out of place amongst his underground home. He looked confused when a figure heaved themselves up onto the stony shore and laid there for a few moments. "Fleurette," he said quietly while walking over. She pulled herself to kneel and then eventually to stand. Pushing her wet hair out of her face she walked slowly and stiffly up to him, an echoed chattering sound accompanied her.