"Erik, where are you!?" Madame Giry yelled as she stormed down the hidden staircase and into Erik's lair, "I must have a word with you!" she finished as she slammed the one way mirror shut behind her.
Erik stopped his scribbling of the sheet music for a moment as he sat at his organ, then continued without looking up, "Ah, Antoinette, how are you?" he mumbled dryly, dipping his quill in ink.
Antoinette strolled over and stopped behind him, "I need to talk to you." she said simply, tapping her foot on the stone impatiently.
"About what?"
"You know exactly what!" she snapped, placing her hands on her hips, "I know you were listening behind the walls! You always are!" she shook her head, rolling her eyes, "You are the eyes and ears of the Opera Populair, nothing happens up there that you don't know about. So don't play dumb with me, Erik."
Erik sighed and softly set down his quill, "Well, then, if I know what you're going to say, then by all means leave me be, for I have no need to hear it again."
"You can not see that girl again, Erik. I won't allow it." Giry's tone had dropped, and she pointed a stern finger at him.
Erik finally turned towards her, gently pushing Giry's finger out of his face, "Then please explain why, for I have no clue as to why you are being so brash towards the both of us."
"I'm just looking out for you Erik. For both of you."
Erik shrugged, "I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself, and I'm sure she is as well."
"I know that, it's just," Antoinette sighed and her arms fell to her sides, "We don't really know anything about this girl. She appears here literally out of nowhere and says that she doesn't remember anything about her past," Erik looked away for a moment, "She has no one. And if something were to happen to her, or to you-"
Erik looked back up at her, tilting his head, "You say she has no one, but the moment that she begins to become my friend you change your mind and shield her from me."
She held up a hand to stop him, "That's different-"
"How so?" he interrupted.
"You're dangerous."
"Oh, wow," he said sarcastically, rolling his eyes, "It totally slipped my mind, how much of a terror and a monster I am. And yet, you're still here. Just to keep me focused on that fact and to never, ever forget it." Erik smiled, lifting his hands in the air dramatically before crossing them over his chest, "But thank you so much for reminding me. I really appreciate it, Antoinette."
"Don't be smart with me, Erik." she snapped, "You know that's not what I meant."
"Then please explain to me what you truly meant to say. Why in the world must I stay away from the one person that actually might care about me? If you really care about me so much then why are you forcing her away from me? I make one friend and you think that I am going to kill her!" he snapped back, spinning back around and crumpling the sheet of music that he was working on without a second thought. His shoulders shook as he slowly breathed, closing his eyes and trying his best to stay calm.
'I don't have time for this,' Erik thought to himself, 'Why did she have to come and bother me? Is it too much to ask for some time alone to write a simple Opera?'
Madame Giry sighed and sat next to him, "I just don't want something to happen to her, and leave you broken hearted. And vice versa."
Erik looked to her, "You say that as if I'm in love with her. You know fully well that I love Christine."
"You and I both know how attached you can get to others. I'm just trying to be careful."
"Oh, of course!" he exclaimed sarcastically, "Well, I might as well cut everyone else I know off too, just in case if I get too over attached to them. Don't want my heart to be broken, or anything. Does that satisfy you, Giry?"
"Erik, that's not funny. Of course I don't want you to be alone. It's just," she sighed, deflating, "Oh, you know what I mean."
Erik looked down at the keys on his organ, "Well, I'm sorry to break it to you, but I have already struck a deal with her. She is going to play a piece for my opera, and nothing that you do is going to change that."
"And where is this piece of music, may I ask?"
He shrugged, "It is not written yet. I was working on it when you came, but your outburst has ruined my train of thought, and I am afraid that I must start over. It will be done in a few months. Maybe even sooner if I have some peace and quiet for once, instead of constantly having others storming into my home all of the time."
Madame Giry sighed and stood up, "Well, I apologize for disturbing you, then. But what I said before still holds. You and Scarlet may see each other, but only to work on your silly opera. Once La Dame Blanche has finished she will need to return to her work for the next opera. The managers won't keep her out of it if I have any say. If I see you too fooling around again-"
"Antoinette, we never fooled around-"
She raised her voice, "Erik, do not interrupt me. I said if I see you two fooling around again, and not working on the opera, she will leave this opera house at once. And that is final. I have worked too damn hard to make sure you aren't taken away from here in chains. I am not going to let some silly girl who doesn't even know how old she is ruin it all. Good day, Erik." And with that she spun around and walked over to the mirror, opening and slamming in behind her in anger.
Erik sighed and turned back towards his organ, and let his eyes drift up to a rose that was sitting in a vase near his sheet music. It was a yellow rose with red tips, and despite how much he tried, he couldn't help but be reminded of Scarlet.
xXx
A week had passed since I became ill, and I had gotten better since then. I had not seen Erik at all during that week, and on Madame Giry's orders I stayed confined to my room, only leaving my bed to take a bath or to change clothes. When Madame Giry would walk in, she wouldn't say a word. She would just switch out my trays of food and leave me to eat, and then it would repeat again. During that lonely week, I had taken my time drawing and listening to my favorite music. I longed to sneak out of my room to journey to my bedside in the modern world with my music, but in fear of Madame Giry's scorn, I remained in my room.
I sighed as I opened my eyes, the sun of a new day streaming through the window. I groaned and sat up into the chilly October air that had leaked into my room. I shivered as my feet touched the cold floor and I made my way over to my closet and put on a lavender dress with the sleeves ending at my elbows in white frills. As I was tying the ribbon around my waist, I headed over to my bedside table to grab my journal when I noticed a yellow rose with red tipped petals sitting next to my gas lamp. Tied around the stem was a black ribbon. I smiled softly at it, tilting my head in confusion at its sudden appearance. It definitely was not here when I had fallen asleep last night.
Before I could reach down to take a closer look at it, the door to my room opened and Christine walked in.
"Scarlet, come with me! Raoul, Meg, and I are having breakfast together at a cafe down the corner and you must come with us!" she said with excitement as she grabbed my hand.
I blinked, shaking my head, "But Madame Giry, she-"
"Oh, don't you worry about her for one minute! I talked with her and she says that you are well enough to venture outside the opera house today!" she exclaimed as she began to pull me towards the door, "Oh, it'll be so exciting! We'll have tea and rolls and-" suddenly she stopped, her eyes opened wide as she looked down at something.
"Christine, what is it?" I asked, following her gaze. My breath caught in my throat as I saw what she was looking at.
It was the rose.
"What is that?" she asked me in a whisper, not looking up to meet my gaze.
"J-Just a rose." I stuttered, shrugging innocently.
"Who is it from?" she asked, finally looking up at me. Her happy eyes had suddenly gone cold with fear. But not fear towards me. Fear towards someone else.
"I-It was a gift... from the managers. A 'Get Better Soon' gift," Horrible lie, but it was all I could come up with. I ripped my hand out of her grasp and walked towards the door, "Come on, Christine. We don't want to be late."
xXx
I stared down at my coffee as Raoul and Meg laughed together. Christine kept trying to meet my gaze but I wouldn't let her. If she knew that I was friends with the man who is after her, who knows what she'd do. Or what Raoul would do to protect her. I could be out of the Opera Populair for good, out on the streets that I am unfamiliar with, forever on my own in a reality I did not belong to.
Raoul suddenly turned towards me, "So, Scarlet, please tell me something about you. I hardly know anything. From what Christine has told me you can't remember where you came from. Only that you arrived in the Opera Populaire a week before I did with amnesia. Christine said that you fell from the rafters?"
I chuckled softly and looked away, "Yep. That's me. The girl with all the injuries. I don't remember a thing about my past, unfortunately."
"Well, I hope that someday you remember," he said, smiling kindly at me, "How has living at the Opera Populaire been? I'm sure you've made lot's of friends."
I shrugged, "I guess, just Meg and Christine, really."
"Really?" asked Christine as she stared me down, "No one else?"
It was hard to look away from her, "Well, there was Simon but he, um..."
"Who?" Raoul asked, looking around at us.
"Oh, yes," said Meg, "The boy who died in the middle of Il Muto, Monsieur. Scarlet and Simon were pretty close."
"Ah, yes, I remember," Raoul continued, "I remember that night. I'm sorry that you had to lose a good friend of yours. Very unfortunate."
"Extremely," Christine agreed with a smile, "But surely there must be someone else. I mean," her fake smile fell, "There must be some sort of man in your life. Are you into the romantic type? Or the dark and mysterious?"
I slammed my coffee cup onto the table and stood up, "Thank you for the wonderful breakfast, but I really must be going. I'm afraid I have some things to do," I turned to Christine with a smile, "Thank you for inviting me. I really appreciate it." and before she could bat another eye, I strolled out of the coffee shop and onto the streets of Paris, heading back to the Opera Populaire as fast as I could. But I could still feel Christine's gaze burning into the back of my head as I walked.