The Man Behind the Mask: The Sequel to Gaston Leroux's the Phantom of the Opera

Chapter Forty-One: A Birthday Ball

    Erik took Grace up to the surface once he had arranged her hair in a presentable manner. Only forty-five minutes had passed since they went through the floor, and a bit of a party was going on backstage.

   Erik located Leopold, George, and Nora, and led Grace to them. They were beaming and Leopold knocked Grace into Erik, jumping on her with his great weight in greeting.

   "Oh dearie, you were so wonderful, I just about busted my buttons with pride! George and I prouder than flamingos!" Nora gushed.

   "I believe the phrase is peacocks, my love," George corrected, reaching out a hand to Erik. "And you must be Ten - knee -brass himself, Grace's employer and co-star!"

  "Oh doodle, its the same thing!" Nora wrung Erik's hand when George had finished with a raucous slap on the shoulder. "Mister, I wonder if you are aware that Grace's birthday is in a few weeks?"

  Erik smirked and his eyes shifted to Grace for a moment. "Why no," he lied. "I did not."

   "Oh, but I told her to invite you!" Nora sent a scolding look towards her daughter.

   "I'm sorry, I received no invitation to anything," he stated.

   "Well, George and I are giving a ball. She's turning one and twenty! And I do hope -"

  "Nora, I don't think he'd like -"

   "Hush Grace. I do hope you'll come. It will be ever so much fun! And Grace would love your company! She thinks very highly of you!"

   Grace wondered whether ahe should plan Nora's murder or jump off the catwalk. She settled for turning florescent pink.

   And to her immense shock, Erik gave Nora a kind smile and said, "I'd be delighted to. I shall get the details from Grace though; unfortunately I have to check on a few things now."

    He pinched Grace's pink cheek, knowing it would further irritate her, and said goodbye.

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  In the time leading up to the ball, Grace and Erik took long walks around the city, visited the Ladies, and ate cake at the cafe Gaston took her to. They spent most of their time together, and given the fact the theatre was in between plays, they had a lot of it. Rodger, upon his arrival back, joined them. Erik found him to be tolerable now, and often laughed at the stories he and Grace would share.

   Soon, the week of the ball came, and then the ball itself.

    Grace was in the powder room with Nora, who was helping her with the finishing touches of her ensemble. George was greeting guests and directing them on where to go, what time dinner was, and who was in charge of dance cards, for those that wanted them. Leopold was in the kitchen, trying to snatch treats, using his three leggedness to make the cooks amd servers pity him. He always did that on purpose, every party the Treacles ever gave.

   "You look beautiful, darling," Nora said.

    Grace thanked her. She didn't feel beautiful. And even if she hadn't sworn off men, she wanted to be beautiful if only to be so for herself. But no, she thought as she looked at herself in the mirror, with her thin, mousy hair pulled up and curled into limp ringlets, with her pale, scar ladden skin, and her large eyes, too big for her face. This wasn't beautiful. This wasn't pretty. But, it wasn't ugly. And she should be happy with that. It could be worse, she told herself, turning to the side to survey her flat curves. She had laced her corset an inch or two tighter than usual and she still didn't have hips or a bust.

   "Ah well. I can sing and I can dance. Renata's wasn't meant to be anything more than sexually alluring anyway," she huffed.

   "What dear?" Nora asked, eyes wide at what she thought she just heard her child say.