Bravissimo

Weary Eyes

1889

Christine-

This bitter cold winter morning has left me sitting in front of the fireplace within the arms of my beloved. And yet there is still a chill up my spine.

"Mother, good morning! Have you seen Ann Lee? Good morning to you father." Gustave says hopping down the three steps before the bottom. A look of slight worry on his face, yet perhaps hope in today.

I look at Erik and he shrugs patting my shoulders before standing up. "I haven't actually seen her since Sunday. We've been quite busy her and I. What for son?" Unfortunately that means Erik has not seen our daughter in nearly four days and I know it weighs on him.

Gustave glances at me before looking at his shoes. "Well, it is just that... nothing really.. I suppose." He stutters over his words getting more upset as he looks to the kitchen that remains empty of his sister.

Erik frowns and crosses his arms. "Do not waste your sister's time boy, do you understand?" he demands as I wince at his harsh words. Though winter is a busy time for us at the Opera, being as summer festivities are over and the only thing to do is work and look for other entertainment, which would be us; I wish Erik would have a bit of a sweeter vocabulary with our children. Annabel sees through it, while Gustave takes it to heart.

"I never try to-" He begins as his eyes search mine. "Yes, I know father." he whispers defeated.

"Christine, your next piece is nearly finished darling." Erik says leaning to my cheek for a quick kiss. "But nearly is not where I wish to be." he says with a wink and rubs my cheek with his thumb.

I jump at the sound of the front door being pushed open, and taken back by the wind into a slam. Stomping is heard and our girl steps forward, snowflakes melting on her wool scarf and into her big curly hair, just as I had at that age. She looks to the side at us and grins with her nose so red as she shakes out her coat, and I see dark circles are beginning to form under her eyes due to restless nights writing and dancing. She looks at me, takes a breath and smiles. "Hello Mother." she says quietly. We look at each other for a moment, a rare moment she's allowed herself to stand still and I see the woman she's become. A bit taller than I, yet still shorter than her father. Erik slightly grins at his daughter you may as well say he imagined himself.

"Ann Lee!" Gustave jumps.

"Annabel there's more, listen to this! They expect it to fail within very few years- Good morning Destler's." Darius says with a nod after he walks in as well. Erik shakes his head and grins at me and I at him, both of us thinking; how different this young man is from the one we first met. "I want your input! It's failing competition Ann- What do you think?!" Darius says taping the newspaper and handing it in her direction. Annabel gives it an uninterested look and walks away. "Alright, I'll bring it up later... Monsieur Destler how is the writing going?" Darius asks switching topics more than he breathes.

"Well. What was Annabel working on so late?" Erik says without tone as Darius lifts the wood he brought from town again for the fire.

"Mostly Instrumentals sir." Darius answers as he places them on the wood pile. I grin as I think about how we can all finally see that spark in his eyes grow, that has been there from day one. However the circumstances that lead to his happiness was quite disturbing and sorrowful, he seemed to blossom from it; where as I would have wanted answers. The poor thing, now an orphan, slipping through the sadness of it all and investing all his time on us and the Opera.

"Ann Lee would you help me?" Gustave pleads following his sister at the ankles like a pup.

"Your sister is quite busy there Gustave, be it something we could help with?" Darius asks wiping the dirt on the sides of his pants.

"Well, no it's about my... school, yes I need her assistance." Gustave says hoping Annabel will stay long enough to hear him out.

"Neither I nor your father could help?" Darius asks glancing at Erik who's gaze does not leave his son.

She only reaches for the railing of the stairs when she stops at her little brother's next words. "It's the other children..." he says loud at first than under his breath.

Annabel looks over her shoulder with a deep frown and burrowed eyebrows as she listens to Gustave's plea. "They are unkind, and remain with no consequence."

"We most certainly could assist with that." I say softly and with a smile.

"No.. Pardon me mother it is just, they don't fear you like they do-" he whispers and allows it to trail off. Slowly the three look to Annabel, who's sickened eyes bore into the floor, her hand still on the railing, gripping it so harshly it creaks up the steps as she makes her decision. Looking to the men I press my lips together as the house goes silent. As I know, the world should in fact be afraid of Erik. The Phantom of the Opera. Evan after knowing us for quite some time, I still sense Darius' caution around him as he must feel that something is not quite right. In my moments I've had to think and be alone over the years we have been married, I have allowed myself to except the fact that my husband is in fact a murderer. I always knew of course, but accepting it is quite different.

The night the reporter ripped away Annabel's glove is the night that she was shut up inside herself. The reporter went missing that night and as I remember it, was found dead three days later. I have suspected Erik, but of course never mentioned it and I never will. Though the rumor was in fact, that the murderer was Annabel herself. Ever since than, every photo they've gotten of her off stage, her face has always been hidden, or twisted with disgust and anger. Finally seeing that the people were never her friend, that she was only a distraction, and her feelings truly did not matter to them, changed her approach to something far worse than our recommended caution.

Catching on to Annabel's new aura, the hounding of her stopped, and they would not dare attack Gustave either, who mostly hide behind her dark cloak protected and safe. Many times I've seen Gustave look up at his sister's face, of which stares into the abyss of the crowd. At times clearly wishing to hold her hand, but would not attempt the action of affection.

Gustave clings to Annabel with tears brimming in his eyes. "Won't you help me, sister? Make it stop. Make it go away." Annabel embraces him and allows him to cry into her shoulder. All the while staring up at her father, and he at her. I wonder if we should have in fact allowed her to learn to deal with the cruel children on her own? Or if we should have ended it. Of course in Annabel's position it was different, she needed to know how to ignore and dismiss cruelty as she will receive it forever. If Annabel were honest right now, would she yell? Would she cry and scold us for doing naught for her brother? Or would she surprise us with her answer and actions like usual?

Annabel's tired eyes look from Erik to Gustave. "If I'm to help you, what will you do when it happens yet again? What are you to do when I am not here?"

"It is not only my name they tread upon sister, but yours!" he pleads. "They call you-" He begins than whispers in her ear.

As she slowly stands Annabel chuckles and grins; "Yes, this is no news to me brother mine."

Gustave breathes in and beckons her ear to him once more. After a few moments of whispering Annabel's smile that yearns to stay, disappears into a line. The scene could be a renaissance painting; Gustave on his tiptoes whispering into his sister's ear, her grey dress with dark purple lace, the beauty of it not matching her raised brow, weary eyes and bent lip. "Fine then. We leave an hour early." Annabel demands as she picks up the newspaper Darius set down and disappears up the steps.

"Well, what else did you confess to her?" Darius asks the question we all wonder.

Gustave looks up at Darius, the tall lean man he once knew as a boy himself and answers; "The one who hit me asked; "What is it like living with the Destler Daughter? Should we fear The Phantom in the Opera House? Or the Murderer under your roof?"