MARCH 1915
GUSTAVE
The tension had finally cooled entirely in our house after the heated argument between me and Papa. Though I could tell that he was still fairly skeptical about Lara and her family ties, I knew that my newest plan would hopefully help him get over that.
"Papa, you aren't busy tomorrow evening, right?" I asked as I cleaned up my lunch dishes and brought them over to the sink.
"I'm always working, but unless Nadir stops in to play cards and pester me endlessly, I'm free," he replied from where he still sat at the table. "Why do you ask?"
"Just to make sure that you'll be here to meet Lara and her parents when they come for dinner." I winced a bit, waiting for an outburst because I hadn't told him earlier or asked him first. Although, in my defence, Lara had only asked me the day before at school, so I hadn't had all that much time to tell him.
"They're coming here?" Papa inquired.
I turned around and nodded at him. "Her parents, Marguerite and Philippe, were asking to meet my father, and Lara really wants to get to know you. I've been teaching her about music and she loves history. I think you two will get along quite well," I explained. "Please don't be upset that I didn't tell you, Papa. Lara and I only just made the plans yesterday, so I was going to tell you at some point."
"Gustave, I'm not upset. Just relax." Papa was smiling at me, but I could see the nervousness and hesitancy in his eyes. He still wasn't too keen on Lara's family; the Vicomte may have left, but he was still wary of his older brother and sister-in-law. "I would be happy to get to know them. Lara, in particular, considering you speak so highly of her."
I felt my cheeks heat up quickly at that remark and heard Papa laugh a little at my expense. "Well, I love her. What can I say?" I replied sheepishly.
"I know, I'm only teasing," he said. "Now, how has school been? You had that important math test just the other day, did you not?"
"Yes, and I think it went well, although I say that now and it probably didn't go all that well," I admitted, scratching my head as I spoke. "But besides that, I signed up for the talent show that's coming up."
That piqued my father's interest, thankfully drawing his attention away from the possibility that I didn't do well on a test. "Did you? What would that talent of yours be, hm?"
"Well, I wrote down singing as my act, unless you object to that."
"No, that's not what I meant. You play the piano, sing, and have other various talents. I just didn't want to jump to conclusions like I usually do," he said in his defence. "What is it that you're planning on singing?"
"I haven't the slightest idea," I admitted as I sat down next to him. "I was hoping you might have some suggestions for me."
"Well, not off of the top of my head, but I have a folder of sheet music in my study. Go flip through it and see if anything catches your eye. It's a dark blue one."
"Thank you, Papa!" I bounced out of my chair and hurried upstairs, already knowing exactly which desk drawer the composition folders were kept in. I looked behind the red folder that held Papa's opera and found the blue one that he had told me to look for. I sat down at his desk and opened it, only looking up when he walked in the door and leaned against the desk to watch over my shoulder.
"Well, we're off to a good start," I remarked as I pulled out the first piece of music and found it covered in ink blotches and scratches. I could barely read the title. The first word was scratched out beyond recognition, though the second word looked almost like 'beauty'. "Why is this one all ruined, Papa?"
He groaned when he saw it. "Put that one back. My biggest mistake from my Phantasma days," he said.
I realized I could tease him with that comment and jumped at the chance. "I thought I was your biggest mistake," I said, my face expressionless and a hint of false pain in my voice.
Pain and regret painted his face for a split second, only to be replaced by annoyance and amusement soon after. "First off, that kind of self-deprecating humour is my thing, so stop it. Secondly, 'mistake' is far from being the word I would use because you are anything but a mistake. More like...an accident. A happy accident," he replied, giving my face a gentle pat. "Poor planning on my part, really; entirely my fault. Not your fault, not your mother's. Were there precautions that could have been taken? Yes. Did either of us think of that at the moment? No. We should have, but we ended up with you, so all is well! Why can't I stop talking?"
I laughed at how flustered he was getting about the topic that he was so quickly approaching. "Papa, I know how it works."
"Good, so I don't have to explain anymore! Now, put that thing back where it came from and never take it out again."
"Alright, alright." I set that particular composition aside and pulled out the next, then frowned at the title. "Think of Me? That's from Hannibal, you didn't write this. Why is it in here, Papa?" I asked.
"A memory. Your mother made her opera debut with this show, this aria. Just a little momento of her - our - first triumph," Papa explained as he took the composition and read it over. "You could perform this if you did it in your range and if we practice plenty. You could make your mother proud."
He was quickly lost in his memories, humming the aria as he read over its sheet music. I knew that was his favourite performance of Mother's that she had performed for her record, so I left him to his music while I moved on to the next composition. I found that the notes fit comfortably with my range and I'd never seen it before, so I gave it a try right there and then: "Past the point of no return..."
"No, no!" Papa practically threw the aria from Hannibal across the room as he moved to grab the music from me, but I turned away.
"No backward glances. Our games of make-believe are at an end," I continued, paying no heed to his words.
"Gustave, that's enough," Papa begged. His face was bright red, a shade I had never seen it turn before. "Just leave that one."
I smirked and quietly read the words to myself. "Wow, Papa. Risque," I teased. "Who did you sing this one with?" When I received no reply from him - just more blushing - I made my guess: "You and Mother sang that, didn't you?"
"I...It wasn't meant to be me initially, but yes. Christine and I ended up performing it. It was a part of my opera."
I frowned at that. "Your opera? You said it was performed at the Opera Populaire because you submitted it as a composer. How were you in it?"
Papa groaned quietly, but looked at me, his expression a mix of countless emotions that I could tell he was struggling to figure out how to explain. "Gustave, I recall you saying that your mother told you the story of the Angel of Music. Of her Angel of Music," he said.
"Yes, that was always my favourite story that she told me. I used to wish I had been able to meet him, but she said that he disappeared before I was born." I smiled, amused by my childhood desires. "I believe Mother with all my heart, but sometimes I think she made parts of it up to entertain me."
I noticed a sad smile appear on Papa's face. "For one, she was right; he did leave before you were born. For another thing, as probably the person who knows that story best, outside of her and her father, I can report that all of it was true."
"But that was just a story her father told her," I argued. "There was no Angel of Music."
"Oh, there was, mio soldatino. I was the Angel of Music," Papa said quietly.
My mind felt like it was exploding and I dropped the sheet music in shock. I had heard the story for as long as I could recall, only to find out years later that the Angel of Music that I had longed to meet was my father!
"It was you?!" I breathed, then paused as I realized. "You did leave before I was born..."
He nodded. "It was a story that her father told her. I made it a reality...to a degree," he explained. "I was already residing at the Opera House when Christine arrived. I had become known as the Phantom of the Opera. During the building process, Charles Garnier - my friend and the head of the project - gave me his blessing to make the fifth cellar my residence. I had been kicked out of countless inns because of my face, so I took advantage of the fact that I had given some input on the Opera and built myself a home beneath it. I kept to myself, letting no one see me and frightening a ballerina now and then. Nothing harmful. Life was quiet...until your mother arrived.
"She was a ballet dancer, as I'm sure you know, and her father had recently died. I was immediately in love with her, and when I heard the tale of the Angel of Music, I took on that persona. My hope had been to bring her comfort, to make it so her father's last promise could be fulfilled, as well as to teach her to sing. Her voice had an almost overwhelming potential; it just needed to be finetuned."
"Papa, you said you lived beneath the Opera House. How was it that you taught her?" I inquired, quickly getting more and more invested in the story of how my parents met.
"I mastered the art of ventriloquy in my youth, so I could project my voice in order to make sure she heard while still keeping myself out of sight. I'll teach you one day," he promised with a wink. "Eventually, though, I revealed myself to her. It was after her debut in Hannibal and she was in her dressing room, speaking with..." he trailed off, almost as if he were being selective about what he told me. "With another ballerina and being wooed by the Vicomte. Naturally, that angered me and I made that known to her, but she apologized and begged to finally see me. I was in such a state of love at that point where I could deny her nothing, so I agreed and brought her to my residence beneath the Opera House.
"There, I sang her the very song that I put in your music box. The one that I turned into a lullaby for you. It was a song I shared only with her and you; I intend to keep it that way. At least for now."
I nodded. "That makes sense. It's special; I understand why you'd want to keep it in our family. What happened next, though? I can only assume that meeting your teacher who lives under the Opera House would be a lot to handle," I said.
"Indeed; a case of overstimulation. She ended up fainting, so I let her rest while I worked on my opera." At that moment, I watched his mood darken immediately. Whatever he was about to tell me was not a fond memory, that much I could tell.
"Then, out of her own curiosity, she took off my mask," he said quietly as he straightened up and walked over to the window. I saw his fingers start to twitch; a dead giveaway that things were getting difficult to explain. He raised his hand to his face and felt the side that was normally covered by his white mask. It took a long time but he was finally comfortable enough to be around the house without it. But the story took place long before that, so I could only imagine the fear he must have felt. "I lashed out at her because I was so afraid of losing her. I finally had a connection with someone; I hadn't been so close to a person since Nadir and never had a woman been so sincerely invested in a relationship with me. I wasn't prepared to face the possibility of losing yet another important person in my life because of my face. Somehow, though...she didn't run away and leave me. She gave my mask back and looked at me with the same admiration that she always had. I realized that I finally found someone who could look beyond...my condition.
"I took her back up after that, but I was not done with advancing her career. I wrote notes to the new insufferable managers, asking that she play the lead in the upcoming opera, leaving the Prima Donna, named Carlotta Giudicelli, in a silent role. On top of that, I requested my salary of 20,000 francs and for my seat in Box 5 to be left vacant."
"And? Did they listen?" I asked.
"No, no they did not. They cast Carlotta as the lead, didn't pay my salary, and sat in my box themselves. Those two had some nerve."
"Well, it is a large amount of money, Papa."
"Oh, the Vicomte was their patron. They had plenty," he retorted. "That money would have paid another musician in the orchestra that couldn't play to save their life. I would have used it to buy food and to get new shoes tailored."
"Alright, fair point," I admitted. "So what did you do? Did they get away with it?"
"Of course not! Do you know me at all? I acted on my threat for disaster and Carlotta croaked like a frog during her performance. I then followed a rather frantic Christine and the Vicomte to the roof of the Opera, which was where my heart was broken. I heard her declare her love for the Vicomte, swearing to love him forever. I can't recall any other time in my life where I could feel my soul shattering in such a way that it had that night. In my anger and hysteria, the chandelier was accidentally affected and it crashed. After that, I buried myself in writing my opera. The Opera Garnier saw and heard nothing from the Phantom for six months until I reappeared with my finished opera in hand at the masquerade held to ring in the new year."
I gasped. "That's where you wore that god awful skull mask, isn't it?"
"Exactly. The Mask of the Red Death. Why the managers threw a masquerade ball while being haunted by a masked man is beyond me, but it worked in my favour.
"Christine was the lead in my opera - a character named Aminta - but the pressure grew too much, so she fled to visit her father's grave. I was there as well and I heard her pour out her heart in song to him, wishing he were by her side once more. Again, the love I had for her moved me to try and bring her to me for comfort, but the Vicomte arrived and ripped her away.
"My opera was performed shortly thereafter. Don Juan was played by Ubaldo Piangi, Carlotta's husband, but he...fell ill, so I took his place. That was when Christine and I sang that song you found: Point of No Return. A sensual song, to put it simply. I wore a robe to conceal myself, but Christine realized it was me and revealed me to the audience; mask and wig off as well. I whisked her down to my dwelling, as I had to get both of us away from the mob chasing me for my head. Madame Giry, however, showed the Vicomte the way down, and Nadir wasn't far behind. He didn't intervene, but he saw it all. He was around the Opera House quite a bit when he realized that I lived there; once that I was in danger like that, he was on high alert.
"Christine had a choice - Raoul or me." Papa's fingers were curling up again and his voice was strained when he spoke; he was trying not to cry, I realized. I got out of my chair and walked to his side then, setting my hand on the small of his back for support. Me being next to him seemed to have calmed him down a little. His fingers uncurled but I was slightly concerned when I saw a tint of red on his fingernails; sometimes he doesn't know his own strength.
"She kissed me. Twice," he breathed, a sad smile on his face and tears rolling down his cheeks as he reminisced. "It was then that I told her to leave. To make a life for herself with a man who could give her just that: a life."
"Oh, how wrong you were," I mumbled.
"Indeed, though I didn't know it then. Oh god." He was looking up now, trying and failing to blink away his tears. "If I had known then, I never would have let her go."
I sighed and simply rubbed his back for a moment, giving him time to compose himself. Eventually, though, another question crossed my mind: "Hang on. If Mother left you, how did I...oh."
Papa chuckled a bit, and I was relieved to see that I had managed to lift his spirits again. "You came to that conclusion all on your own, so blame yourself. But your conclusion would be correct. Sometime after those events, on the night before her wedding, she found where I hid. I wonder sometimes if Nadir told her; they were both equally concerned that I would die of a broken heart. Christine visited me to check in on me, and then, nine months later, our happy little accident arrived." Papa smirked and gestured to me as he spoke. "So that's it, then. That's how I met your mother."
"Your story is unbelievable, Papa. How did you take it all?" I queried.
"Her. Christine was my light, my life. Now, you have taken up that mantle," he replied.
I grinned. "I'm very privileged," I said before I laughed at my newest revelation. "My Papa is the Phantom of the Opera!"
~~~~~
"William!" I exclaimed as I jumped off the third step of the stairs and ran to the front door, greeting Charles, Madeleine, and Nadir before turning to my best friend. "Will, I have a story for you!"
"Okay...what is it?" Will asked. He looked very confused, my abundance of energy clearly baffling to him, though I didn't know why; after our five years of friendship, I would have thought he would be used to it.
I opened my mouth to share the latest family revelation but glanced at Papa to see him shooting me a stern look. He seemed to be almost daring me to reveal his past as the Phantom in front of his friends. I knew that I would get an earful later if I said anything, so I looked back to William and smirked. "I'll tell you upstairs. Come on!"
~
NADIR
Madeleine laughed as William and Gustave hurried upstairs with plenty of gossip to share. "What do you think that was about?"
"I have a slight idea," Erik replied. He looked over at me and I nearly burst out laughing. He looked incredibly unimpressed with his son, and it was then that I confirmed what the secret's topic was; the age-old tale of my best friend and brother in spirit, Erik Destler. The Phantom of the Opera.
"And what would that idea be?" Madeleine questioned as she gave Erik a hug to greet him.
"I'll explain that another time," he replied as he turned to give Charles a handshake.
"You say that quite a lot, you know."
"I'm not sure if you've gathered by now, but my life has been rather eventful."
"Right, so enlighten us!" she exclaimed. "I'm sure it will make good conversation, Erik."
"Dear God, Maddie, let the man have his secrets," Charles said, hugging his wife from behind.
I smirked. "If he kept all his secrets, he would never say a word to anyone," I explained. "Even I wouldn't be involved in many conversations." I paid no mind to the glare Erik was giving me; I saw it enough, I was used to it.
"Exactly! He's so interesting, Charles, what would you like me to do?" Madeleine asked.
Erik laughed quietly; that was a sound I had grown quite fond of once I had started hearing it regularly after we had reunited. Having a son brought out the joy in him that I hadn't seen since Reza was alive, so it was refreshing to see it again.
"Thank you for your support, John," he teased.
I sighed and shook my head, only for a laugh to burst out of me when I heard Charles reply, "My pleasure, Steve."
Madeleine joined me in laughing at our friend's expense, and the baffled expression on Erik's face only made us laugh harder. "What did you call me?" he asked, chuckling through his words.
"Steve," Charles repeated, trying to stay serious during the ridiculous conversation, even though a smile tugged at his lips. "My rebuttal to your 'John' comment."
"Charles, allow me to remind you of something. I am a Frenchman, not an American. I may have come here from that insufferable country, but that doesn't mean I want to take an American name."
"Fine then, a French name. How about...Raoul?" Charles proposed, throwing on a mockingly inaccurate French accent as he pronounced the name.
I snorted, covering my mouth to hide my smile as I stared at Erik, whose expression was a mix of shock and mild irritation. "No, Steve is fine. Perfect, in fact! Just...never Raoul," he requested as he gave Charles a quick pat on the shoulder, then turned to walk to the sitting room. "Come in, you three. Sit down, make yourselves comfortable. I put out the tray with tea just before you got here, so it's still hot."
"So am I getting my story or not?" Madeleine inquired as she followed Erik and sat down in the armchair across from him.
"The details of that story will come in time. If I told you now, I doubt you would believe me," he reasoned.
"Oh, we'll believe you, just watch."
"Well, you know, if you want an unbiased opinion, I was there," I revealed, sitting on the sofa with Charles.
"What happened, then?" Madeleine asked.
"Alright, I give in, I'm intrigued," Charles admitted. "Tell the story, Nadir."
"What?" Erik said, looking at Charles in confusion. "I thought you were on my side for this one!"
"Well, Steve, like my wife said - you're interesting."
"Erik, let me tell the story," I suggested. "It will go smoothly, I swear."
"I can tell my own stories, Nadir," he retorted.
"First off, you know you don't want to. Secondly, yes, you can tell your own stories; just not properly."
"I..." Erik paused, considering the statement with a sigh. "Fine. I'll just correct you every now and then."
"I expect nothing less," I replied before I turned to Madeleine and Charles. "So tell me, you two. Did the rumours about the Phantom of the Opera ever reach London?"
"I do remember reading something about it in the papers, but that was years ago," Charles replied.
"Well, allow me to introduce you to the man behind the myth." I gestured overdramatically to Erik, who waved his hand a bit as he managed a smile.
"Oh my god, that was you?!" Madeleine exclaimed. "The masked man who dropped the chandelier in the Opera House?!"
"Guilty," Erik admitted.
"Wow," Charles said with a nod. "I am close friends with the Phantom of the Opera. I'm not sure what to do with that information."
"Charles, neither am I," I revealed. "I lived it and have yet to process it all."
We fell quiet for a moment after that, the couple considering the information that they had just received about their friend. Eventually, though, Maddie piped up with a question that had been bound to be asked eventually: "Did you really kill people?" Her voice was small and timid, clearly not wanting to even imagine her friend doing such a thing.
"My actions tend to be exaggerated. Just a spin on reality that the journalists used to sell papers," Erik replied, the lie flowing off his tongue like he hadn't thought twice about it.
I looked over at him, my eyebrow slightly raised as, with my expression alone, I asked: "Is that really the excuse you're going with?"
He returned the look, although I could see the regret about lying to Madeleine in his eyes. "Yes, it is and you will go with it too."
"Were they really, Nadir? Just false headlines for the papers?" Madeleine asked.
I figured she would ask me to verify the statement, but I had to change my answer to spare Erik any embarrassment in front of two of his closest friends. "That they were. Erik did some things, but murder of random innocents was not one of them," I eventually said before I looked to Erik to communicate a message with my eyes once more: "You owe me."
"I will never stop owing you."
"So wait. Did he truly live beneath the Opera House?" Charles questioned, his gaze bouncing between Erik and me.
"That I did," Erik replied simply. "Nadir was the only one who really knew for a fact that I was there for the longest time. Christine eventually found out as well."
"You brought her there," I pointed out.
"Alright, so I let her find out."
"I can imagine she was in for quite a shock. The shock of a lifetime, one could say," Madeleine commented.
"Oh, certainly. Your music teacher who you thought was an angel shows you that he's just a man in a mask, then takes you to his home in the basement of the Opera House...a lot to handle," Erik said.
"She fainted," I clarified dryly.
"Daroga!" Erik's eyes were wide and he blushed at the reminder that he frightened the woman that he almost married.
"What! It's true!" I exclaimed.
"There's no need to be so blunt."
"Erik. We would get nothing done here if I wasn't blunt about this."
The roll of his eyes told me I had won the argument. "Fine, fine. Just get on with it," he grumbled as he propped his elbow on the arm of the chair and leaned his head on his hand. "This is already taking longer than I wanted it to."
The snickers from Charles made me smirk. "Which direction would you like me to take this, then?"
"Just talk. I will correct you if the need arises. Which has yet to happen, I'm impressed."
"Well, Christine went back to the land of the living soon after that event," I said, ignoring the jab he'd made at me. "Erik was determined to make her the Prima Donna, so he pestered the lead at the time, Carlotta Giudicelli, endlessly to get her to leave."
"Why? Could they not have just...shared the roles?" Charles asked.
"Charles, what you fail to understand is that Carlotta did not share very well. Either she was the Prima Donna or no one was," Erik replied. "On top of that, she couldn't sing to save her life. She was kept on as the lead because of the manager's fear of losing ticket sales. In defence of my pestering, though, I had an agenda. I was in love and I wanted to see her fulfill her dream. I would have done anything."
"Like drop set pieces, make Carlotta croak like a frog, and crash the chandelier," I commented dryly. I had seen too much because of this man, so none of those actions had really shocked me. It was a miracle I didn't have more grey hairs because of him.
"Granted, my methods were extreme," he admitted.
Madeleine shook her head, though her smile remained plastered on her face. "Dear lord, Erik. You never did grow out of that dramatic phase, did you?"
"At this point in my life, don't hold your breath that I will," Erik replied with a playful wink at Madeleine. I had never actually seen him interact with his two new friends, so it was a breath of fresh air to see him so happy and relaxed. He had found his group of friends, which was something he had needed for a long time.
"How on Earth have you raised Gustave?" Charles asked.
"Charles, one day at a time. With Nadir's help on top of that."
"And me! I basically have two sons to take care of," Madeleine piped up. "Never mind you and Nadir on top of the boys."
"Yes, yes, all of you have done much to help. I appreciate it," Erik said.
"You better appreciate it. You're helpless without us," I commented.
"Well, now you're pushing it," Erik retorted with a grin in my direction. "Along those lines, though. Since we have all played a role in raising him, I feel like I should share a little update on his present relationship..."
~
ERIK
"Tomorrow night, we're hosting Lara and her parents for dinner," I reported. "Gustave says I should meet them all, and considering how head over heels he is for her, I suppose he's right. It is a strange thought that my son has a sweetheart. Trust me, you two, you're never truly ready for your child to take that step."
"Oh, I know I'm not ready," Maddie said with a giggle. "I think I'll have to get used to it, though, with the way that William talks about Jane."
"It's bizarre! It makes you realize just how much they've grown up. On top of that, it makes you feel ancient, which only adds to me feeling that way when I'm friends with a young pair like you two."
"Oh, don't do that to yourself, Erik. Although I would imagine it is quite strange. It's still scary on top of all that."
"Scary or not, I'm just excited. I'm waiting to be a grandpa!" Charles exclaimed.
I laughed as I sipped from the glass of whiskey that Nadir had just handed to me. "To think that within a few years, we could be grandparents."
"Oh, they're still babies, give them time," Maddie scolded, sitting up in her chair to make herself a cup of tea. "I don't want William rushing into any of that."
"You don't want Gustave to have a baby so young, do you, Erik? I mean, I know you waited a long time to have children, but do you want him to do the complete opposite?" Nadir teased.
"You're hilarious, Daroga," I retorted, sarcasm lacing every word that I said. "When the time is right, I know he will make that decision for himself."
"Oh! Speaking of right timing," Charles said before he dashed out of the room and into the front foyer. "I have something for my wife."
Maddie smiled and glanced at the doorway, her grin only getting wider when her husband reappeared, his hands behind his back and a ridiculous smile on his face. "What are you planning, Charles?" she asked.
"I would say it's something romantic, but I wouldn't know," I admitted with a shrug. "Do continue though."
"Someone cover her eyes," Charles requested, gesturing to Maddie with his head.
I stood up to walk over to Madeleine, but Nadir did as well. So I sat down to yield to him and let him go...but he did the same. I moved to get up again, but Nadir bounced up and pushed me down into my seat again. "I'll do it, for goodness' sake," he said as he walked behind Maddie's chair and covered her eyes with his hands.
"Charles, is this necessary?" Madeleine inquired.
"Yes, yes it is," Charles replied simply as he kneeled in front of his wife and placed a little box in her hands. "You can uncover her eyes now, Nadir."
As soon as Maddie could see, I noticed a sparkle in her eyes as she looked at whatever it was that her husband had given to her. "Charles, what is this?"
"Open it." The man was practically bouncing on the spot with excitement. I glanced at Nadir to try and get an explanation, but he simply shrugged.
Madeleine picked up the present - a velvet box, I could now see - and opened it, her jaw dropping as soon as she saw the contents. "Charles, is this..." she began.
"Happy anniversary," Charles said as he leaned forward and kissed his wife.
Nadir smiled at the pair and came back to his seat, raising his glass to them before he sipped his drink. I stared at the two of them, though it was more like the back of Charles' head and Maddie's face, and I couldn't help but feel a small pang of jealousy in my chest as I watched. I wished that I could have done the same for Christine; surprised her with a gift, celebrating the anniversary of our wedding. Knowing that she had that with the Vicomte and not with me angered me, but the joy in the room was so overwhelming that I couldn't help but smile. "Alright, the back of Charles' head is lovely, but I wouldn't mind knowing what gift was just exchanged," I remarked.
"It's a necklace with our birthstones! Mine, Charles', and William's!" Maddie announced as Charles got to his feet to hook the delicate chain around her neck.
I smiled as she walked over briefly to give me a better look at the pendant, which was a sparkling blue and white combination of aquamarine, pearl, and sapphire for Charles, Maddie, and William respectively; their birthdays had lined up in such a way that their birthstones complimented each other beautifully.
"It's lovely. How sweet of you, Charles," I said.
"So, it's your anniversary. How many years?" Nadir asked.
"It's been twenty this year," Charles replied, sitting on the floor with his back against Madeleine's armchair, his head leaning on her knee.
"Twenty years. Wow, Madeleine. You haven't killed him yet," I said, starting to applaud to celebrate her achievement.
"I know, it truly is an accomplishment," she replied.
"What did I do?!" Charles exclaimed. "I just gave you an expensive gift and you still make fun of me."
Madeleine laughed and leaned over to kiss her husband's forehead. "I'm only joking. You know I love you, dearest."
"Yes, yes, I know," he muttered.
"Well, with an anniversary like this, I believe stories are in order. How did you two meet each other?" Nadir asked.
Charles laughed. "That's a funny story, actually," he admitted.
"It really is. We were both seeing other people when we met for the first time," Maddie added.
I gasped playfully, eager to pounce on another chance to tease the blissful couple. "Scandal," I said with a hand over my heart for added dramatic effect.
"Oh, nothing that serious. We were on a double date with our respective significant others when we met and we just started talking. There was just an immediate connection," Maddie clarified.
"Our dates also seemed to be hitting it off fairly well, so Maddie and I just kept chatting," Charles added. "I ended up taking her home at the end of the night."
"Scandal!" Nadir repeated, chuckling through the declaration.
I laughed and raised my eyebrow at Maddie while Charles glared over at my friend. "I took her back to her house to drop her off, in case I was unclear," he said through gritted teeth.
"Well, the shade of pink that your wife's face has gone would suggest otherwise," I remarked, laughing when Maddie threw a pillow at my chest. "Am I wrong?"
"Very," Charles said with a roll of his eyes. "As I was saying before you two formed your ridiculous theories, Madeleine and I talked for some time and got to know each other better. I knew from the beginning that she was the one for me, though."
"I did too. There was just something about him that felt right. It was like some sort of unspoken agreement that told us, 'It feels right like this, so that's how we should be'. I mean, then I discovered that he has two left feet, but I kept him," Maddie commented, laughing when Charles looked back at her with a frown.
"You two are adorable," Nadir said.
"Aren't they? It's almost nauseating how sweet it is," I replied with a small grimace to add to my teasing.
"Oh, hush. You asked for the story," Maddie scolded.
"Well, technically, Nadir did and I ended up stuck along for the ride, but sure."
"Come on, you two. You cannot seriously tell me that neither of you had little childhood loves when you were younger," Charles said.
"How young are we talking?" I asked. I already knew the answer that I could potentially give, the little admirer that had captured my heart years ago but that didn't mean I was eager to talk about it. She still broke my heart to think about.
"Any age," Charles replied with a shrug. "You two are older than me, you've had more time to have little 'crushes', as people call them."
I cleared my throat, then downed my drink and got to my feet to top up my glass. "Nadir, why don't you go first?"
"Erik had a crush!" Madeleine exclaimed, turning in her chair to watch me walk to the liquor cupboard across the room.
"Maddie, don't be ridiculous," I said. I poured myself a drink and turned around, leaning against the bookshelf next to the cabinet I had just closed, which only exposed my flushed cheek to everyone.
"Oh, he definitely did. Just look at how red he's turning!" Charles exclaimed. "It rivals the blush on his mask!" His comment only embarrassed me more, and I felt my face heating up more than it already had. I cursed myself silently for wearing a different mask; who needed variety in fashion when the usual made life so easy?
"Come on, Erik, who was the lucky lady?" Maddie prodded, smiling when I simply shook my head and sipped my drink.
"Well, I don't know about lucky, but there was a lady, yes," Nadir piped up.
Every head in the room turned to face Nadir, mine included. I panicked slightly, as I had totally forgotten that he knew the story. It made sense, though; I had screamed and sobbed over her in my delirious poisoned state when we were in Persia.
"Nadir," I said quietly, trying to stop him before he even got started.
"You know!" Maddie cried.
"Maybe I do, maybe I don't," Nadir teased.
"Don't you dare, Daroga," I warned, a newly aggressive tone to my voice.
"Or what? You'll pull out your lasso?"
"Try me."
"Lasso? What are you—" Charles began, only to be cut off by Maddie covering his mouth with her hand. "Excuse me?"
"That's an irrelevant detail, dearest! Come on, Erik, let's hear the story!" Maddie begged.
"Alright, fine, fine," I said, giving in to the pleading look in her eyes. "I want no interruptions from you, though. Do you understand, Nadir?" I pointed a finger at him, only for him to shrug his shoulders.
"No promises. You were allowed to interrupt when I was storytelling, why shouldn't it go both ways?" he asked.
I shook my head. "Fair. Anyhow, this story. I was a teenager when I met the young lady in question. I had left home when I was nine," I began, waving off the concerned expression that appeared on Madeleine's face. "My mother and I didn't get on well, long story, don't bother asking. I had ended up with a travelling circus after that, but when I left that behind, I was in Italy. I soon ended up under the wing of an architect named Giovanni, who just so happened to have a daughter named Luciana." It was strange to say her name again; it had been decades since I had said it to anyone. That time didn't change the pain that something as simple as a name brought with it, though.
"This is already sweet. The whole thing sounds adorable," Madeleine remarked.
I laughed quietly. "Perhaps it was. She was a feisty young girl who knew what she wanted when she wanted it, but was very pretty. I was quite taken with her at the time, and it turned out that she felt the same way. Even with the mask."
"What happened, then? If you were both so infatuated with each other," Charles queried.
I scratched the back of my head as the topic that I had wanted to avoid arose, as I had known it would. "Well...circumstances took me out of Italy. With a face such as mine, I couldn't stay in one place for very long; people started to talk. So I left as I knew I had to. Maintaining a relationship at a lengthy distance was not easy at the time, what with the telephone not existing just yet, so...things didn't exactly work out," I explained.
"That's a shame, Erik," Maddie said sadly.
"Have you heard anything from her since then?" Charles asked.
"Uh, no, I...I haven't actually. The last I heard was that Giovanni had passed away about a decade after I left Italy, but even that news came through the papers. That was the last word I received of the family." What a miraculous lie that was! I had indeed heard of Giovanni's death, but I didn't lose touch with her because of distance, but because of death! One that I had caused...
~
"Just take off the mask!" she screamed. "Let me see!"
"Please don't—" I pleaded, my knuckles going white from the grip I had around the small spade I was using to tend to the flower beds that she had neglected.
"Erik, just do it," Giovanni ordered, his voice firm. "Take off your mask and put an end to this ridiculous fantasy that my child has created!"
My whole body was trembling, but I knew that I could not disobey Giovanni. He was the only father I had ever known, so how could I defy him, even if that meant revealing myself to the girl who had captured my heart? With shaking hands, I reached up and slipped the leather mask from my face, then looked up at Luciana.
Her eyes went wide with fear, an expression I knew all too well. Her mouth gaped and a scream escaped her as she began to back away, then took off running across the villa's roof. I stayed quiet as she ran, but both time and my heart stopped when I watched her fall through a weak section of the roof. It all seemed to happen in slow motion, as if God had wanted me to be aware of every detail leading up to it. I was to blame. Giovanni had left me in charge of fixing the fault and I had never gotten around to it. Once time resumed its normal pace, I ran to the hole in the roof just in time to be able to look down at her small, broken body on the ground two storeys below.
I left Giovanni's care that very night. Leaving yet another piece of my broken heart behind.
~
"It was probably for the best, though," I admitted, trying to control the shaking in my voice. "I was only fifteen at the time; we were both too young. On top of that, I was not incredibly skilled in the flirting area of expertise, so it was probably best for everyone that we lost touch."
"You still weren't very skilled at flirting when you met Christine," Nadir said flatly.
"Look, I...I tried."
"A little too hard, my friend."
"Well, something worked, didn't it?" I asked. "I have a son."
"I will give you that," Nadir said before getting a wicked grin on his face. "You know, Erik, you never did regale me with the story of your success with Christine. I believe you said it started along the lines of 'beneath a moonless sky'."
My eyes went wide when he mentioned it and I was quick to meet Maddie's gaze when she looked at me. "Erik!" she said through laughs.
"Nadir, enough," I said, begging him to put the subject to rest.
"I've missed something, haven't I?" Charles asked as he looked between his wife, Nadir, and myself.
"Dear God, Charles. You are as slow as ice sometimes," Madeleine said. She gave her husband a look, eyebrows raised, and the code must have worked because Charles turned to me with a smug grin.
"Oh, I see," he said as he looked at me and winked.
"Can we please discuss Nadir's childhood loves?" I requested, covering my face with my hand as I made my way back to my seat and slumped down in it.
"Does this make you uncomfortable, Erik?" Nadir queried as he sipped his drink.
"Oh, I'm sorry, does my posture not give that away?" I asked dryly. "I don't want to discuss my...romantic life. Or should I say, lack thereof."
"Well, it seems like there certainly was one at this point," Charles remarked with a sly smirk. With a sneer, I grabbed the pillow that Maddie had thrown at me and did the same to her husband. The only difference was that it hit Charles hard in the face instead of in the chest as it had for me.
"It's not that I regret it. In all honesty, it was something I'll never forget from now until I die, but I would just appreciate it if the subject changed. To put it into perspective, I doubt Madeleine and Charles would appreciate us discussing that aspect of their marriage," I reasoned.
Immediately, Charles cleared his throat. "So Nadir, did you have any childhood loves?" he asked.
I nodded. "That's what I thought," I mumbled as I lifted my glass to my lips.
"The only woman I ever loved was my wife, Rookheya, and she is the only woman I will ever love," Nadir answered. "Any young woman before or after her was a mere admirer."
"Good man," Charles said with a firm nod.
"What is she like?" Madeleine asked.
"Perfect in every way before she passed. Beautiful, smart, independent. The most kind-hearted woman I have ever met," Nadir replied.
"I am sorry to hear of your loss. Excuse me if this is insensitive, considering that comment, but you two sound so perfect for each other! Your wedding must have been beautiful," Maddie said with a smile.
Nadir laughed quietly, a fond smile on his face. "Indeed it was, as simple as it had been. Neither of us was extravagant in our tastes, and even with the position I held in the Persian court, we did not have much money at our disposal. Still, Rookheya looked like a goddess. So much so that I could not believe that she was mine."
I smiled, always happy to hear tales of Nadir's wife and Reza's mother, then turned my head and burst out laughing when I saw Maddie's gleeful expression. "Dear lord, look at her face!" I cried. "She looks like she might combust!"
"Shut up, I just love a romance story!" Maddie exclaimed. "Charles knows I do."
"Yes, I know you do, love, but your face is as red as your hair. Take a breath or two," her husband recommended.
I shook my head, unable to grasp Madeleine's excitement. "People make weddings out to be quite a remarkable thing. I've only ever attended one and there wasn't anything spectacular to report. Then again, I did get poisoned, so...perhaps that was a bad example," I said with a nonchalant shrug.
"Oh, but you've only been to one and you've never had one of your own! You can't base your opinion off of weddings that you've only been a guest at!" Maddie replied. I immediately started to smile, though, when she paused and my words began to register with her. "Hang on...poisoned!"
Nadir and I looked at each other as we started to laugh. "We wondered how long it would take you to notice," my friend said.
"What do you mean you were poisoned at a wedding?!"
"Oh, this story again. Really, Papa?" I heard my son say as I looked to the doorway of the room, still laughing with Nadir, and saw him and William walking in. "You need some new material."
"It came up!" I exclaimed in my defence.
"It always seems to eventually," he replied as he walked over and rested his folded arms on the back of my armchair.
"I think an explanation about you being poisoned is an order," Charles prompted as his wife nodded fervently.
I sighed. "Long story short, I was the magician for the shah of Persia. His new vizier was getting married and I despised him because he married the wife of his predecessor without giving her time to grieve. I sentenced him to death at his wedding, he poisoned me, I almost died. Content?" I said rapidly.
The next thing I knew, Gustave had leaned over on my left side and was staring at me. "That's why you wanted him dead? I thought you just hated each other!" he exclaimed, his volume making me wince.
"Well, now I'm deaf. Why are you so loud?" I asked, immediately putting my hand up to shut Nadir up before he even opened his mouth. "I know the answer is because he's my son, so don't even bother. Yes, Gustave, I did hate him. The woman was barely a widow for a week before he was looking her up and down. He was an animal, so I gave him what he deserved."
"People like that are disgusting," William said resolutely.
"Indeed," Nadir remarked. "Neither of the shah's viziers was good men, but the second was certainly worse."
I looked back to Madeleine to see her still staring at me in disbelief. "You almost died?!" she shrieked.
"Well, given that I'm sitting here with you right now should imply that I didn't completely die," I remarked.
"That would imply that you are at least partially dead," Charles said slowly.
"Oh, trust me, Charles. That happened long before I ingested that poison," I said, giving him a sly smile.
"Okay, to change the subject from this story that I've heard too many times," Gustave said as he straightened up again, "Will and I were playing chess upstairs and I realized that he is a brilliant player. Dare I say brilliant enough to beat you, Papa."
I scoffed and looked at William. "Is that so? Well then, get the chessboard and we shall see," I proposed.
~~~~~
Our chess match had gone on longer than anticipated, but it had come down to the wire. The room was silent enough except for a quiet orchestral record playing in the background and everyone's eyes were locked on the chessboard as William moved one of his pieces. A few seconds later, he ended the silence: "Checkmate...checkmate!"
I frowned as I examined the board, shocked that I had seemingly just been defeated. "No, no. That can't be. I can still move...no...my god," I said before I lifted my eyes to look around me and it was quite a scene indeed. Gustave and William's jaws were seemingly locked open, Madeleine and Charles were laughing so hard that they were crying, and Nadir walked over to give my shoulder a pat.
"How does it feel for your undefeated streak to be broken by a teenage boy?" he asked.
"Shut up, I'm still trying to find a place that I can move," I snapped as I desperately scanned the board.
Eventually, though, I came to accept that I truly was stuck. "Well. This has been a humiliating moment for me, but I am very impressed, William."
"Did I really just win?" William asked, his shock obvious.
I smiled. "Well done, my boy."
"I beat Uncle Erik!" William declared as he jumped out of his chair and gave Gustave a high five as they laughed.
"We shall have to have a rematch," I said as I stood up and shook his hand. "I'm determined to redeem myself."
"No, I am retired!" he exclaimed before he rushed from the room and out to the front foyer. "Mother, Father, get me out of here!"
I smirked and raised my hand to keep Maddie and Charles where they were, then peeked into the foyer to watch William's reaction when I threw my voice behind him. "Oh, come on, William. One rematch," I said, my mouth never moving as I spoke, then glanced at Maddie, who was covering her mouth to muffle her laughter.
"No way! How did you do that?" William exclaimed. He turned his back to the sitting room's entryway, which allowed me to walk up behind him and tap his shoulder, getting him to scream. "Why?!"
"Oh, just a bit of fun," I replied with a smirk. "Now, at least give me a hug before you retire and disappear from the chess scene forever."
William was quick to do so, but he looked at me inquisitively as he pulled away. "How did you do that?" he asked.
"Do what?" I inquired.
"That thing! With your voice!"
"Oh." I smirked and threw my voice behind him again. "This?"
"Yes, that! It's incredible!" William exclaimed. I chuckled as he turned to his parents, who had joined us in the foyer. "Did you hear that, Father?"
"I did. It's quite remarkable. How do you do it, Erik?" Charles asked.
"The same way I can make that little flower talk," I replied, chuckling as William looked at the potted plant at the shelf next to him. "Or..." I cleared my throat, "how I can make myself sound quite like a woman."
Charles failed to muffle his laughter, but I was more focused - and subsequently amused - by the starstruck look on William's face. "Teach me," he whispered.
"Soon. I shall teach both you and Gustave. For now, you ought to get home, I said as I gave him and Charles quick handshakes. "Have a good night, you two."
I then turned to Maddie, who gave me a hug. "Promise me that you won't almost die again," she said.
"I won't make promises that I cannot guarantee to keep," I replied, only to wince when she smacked my shoulder. "Um...ouch?"
"Say it," she said firmly.
"Yes, I promise." I gave her a smile and sent her on her way. She was such a small woman, but could be quite frightening when she wished to be.
I walked back to the sitting room where Nadir was finishing his drink and Gustave was cleaning up the chess board. "So Erik, this story about beneath a—" Nadir began.
"Nadir. Go home," I said.
He smiled and walked over to my side. "Alright, fine. I expect the story sometime, though."
"You shouldn't need to hear the story to understand how it worked. You've had significantly more experience with it than I have."
He laughed and stepped into the foyer. "Good night, Erik."
As soon as the door clicked shut, Gustave looked at me. "What was that about? Beneath a what?" he asked.
"Nothing, absolutely nothing. Now, off to bed with you," I replied as I started to walk towards the stairs.
"Oh, Papa, just tell me!"
"Let a man have his secrets, Gustave!"
~~~~~
updated: 11-12-20
word count - 9314
i'm very impressed that I got this done as fast as I did. school is dumb and I have a stupid essay to finish and edit, so I'm gonna go do that. we hope you enjoyed, though!