After The Opera Burned || Phantom Of The Opera

Chapter 1 - Monsieur Richard

It had been several weeks since he walked away from the only home he had known to bring him beauty, light, warmth, and music but he was better for it. Erik closed his eyes again; having had yet another dream of the night he left the opera. 'It seems I will never escape these memoires' he thought to himself, taking in a deep breath to calm his nerve. An abrupt knock on the door startled him from succumbing to his mind once more as he sat up on his bed. He had found a place that he could live at with no questions asked in exchange for a place to rest and hide away from the guards. It was a quiet little suburb just outside of Paris where he worked as a guard of the inn. He didn't have to interact with anyone, he didn't have to slave away, he just had to watch and if someone was about to start a fight, he got involved and threw them out. The mask on Erik's face made it easy to not only keep his identity a secret, but made it easier for others to be afraid of him. Though he couldn't exactly list stalking ballet chorus girls as a previous skill when he was inquiring about a position, the manager looked over him with curious eyes and she seemed to know Erik had something about him that she found valuable.

The manager's name was Madame Antoinette DuMonde; a short plump woman who had all the energy and emotion anyone twice her size could muster, if not more. She always dressed herself in lavish gowns with the most expensive jewels she could find and finished her look with big black hair and sometimes when she was feeling especially fancy, a big hat would be put on top of it. Mme. DuMonde was true to the times, representing herself as a true French woman with pale skin and dark hair. Erik knew she was knocking on the door, about to tell him to wake up and start his shift. He was only here to save up enough money to move even farther but he had grown accustomed to his stay here at the inn. Funny, he couldn't even remember the name of it.

Another three knocks on the door banged louder, "Monsieur Richard, wake up sil-vous-plait. We already have a morning rush coming!"

Erik groaned to himself and shook his head. Didn't people have jobs to get to on a Tuesday morning, or better yet anything better to do then to get drunk at a random inn's bar? "Coming Madame".

"You should already be there Richard" she said sharply through the door.

He waited until he heard footsteps descending the steps until he got up out of his bed and prepared himself for another shift. Erik couldn't really complain, the gig he had was a lot better then sitting in jail and awaiting his fate from his past and he didn't have to pay any rent from his little room, so long as he continued to show up for his shifts. It was a one-room suite with a built in bathroom, complete with a queen-sized bed, clean sheets almost daily, and his own room key. If he were to ever be hungry, he would just go down to the bar and order some food but he resisted doing so because that would result in acquiring another shift and he could barely tolerate them as is.

 Afterward Erik made sure he was dressed to his boss' requirements, he followed in Mme. DuMonde's footsteps and entered in the hallway. The way the inn was set up, a quest would have to walk through a hallway and either walk left to the bar or walk straight to a receptionist who would inquire about how long the quest would be staying at the inn. The hallway was rather big and he appreciated having another door to be able to lock so others couldn't venture into his steps to his room. He locked the door behind him and made his way across the hall to the bar, where Mme. DuMonde was already entertaining her guests. She served most of the drinks herself and her son, Charles DuMonde was feeding the guests their meals. Charles was at the ripe age of 17, a young and handsome fellow with all of his mother's features. Skinny, pale, long dark hair, and a passion for the arts, he was  a true French man. Though not many saw his potential, Erik sure did.

"Morning Monsieur Richard," Charles said after handing food to the table of some hungry patrons.

"Morning," Erik replied, sitting by the entrance to the bar in his usual bar stool. Oh how fate could be so cruel.

"Did you read the papers today Monsieur?" Charles asked him, stepping closer to his personal space. "It says they finally captured the opera ghost from Paris!"

Erik tried to hide his intrigue as he let the boy continue with the news article," It states," Charles continued," even though the phantom had been hiding for months, they had a series of tips that led them to the capture of the famous opera ghost. He had been hiding underneath the catacombs of the city since the disaster took place and once discovered, tried to reach deeper into the catacombs to elude police. Due to the fast thinking of detectives, they captured him before they lost him and he is now in police custody!"

"Hmm... imagine that," Erik said softly, trying to not chuckle at the true genius of the police force. He always knew they were idiots.

"Yes sir, can't fool the police for long!" Charles beamed enthusiastically, believing that France could do no wrong, including the forces that were chosen to protect them. "Though I do feel bad for him."

"And why is that?" Erik asked, unable to hide his curiosity.

"Surely this phantom is not a monster as everyone claims him to be. He is nothing but a man." Charles looked over at Erik, seeing if he was getting any sort of reaction to his statement but Erik showed none. "They say he is the devil's child; born with a cursed face that only the devil himself could love. But I don't think that to be true either. I believe he was just misunderstood. I mean, if Christine Daae could lo-"

"Charles! Leave Monsieur Richard alone. He has a job to do you know as do you." Mme. DuMonde walked over and began to lead Charles away, "and the cooks need you to bring more of our guests their entrees."

Charles looked back to where Erik gestured him to do as his mother said, leaving Erik to watch the bar scene as much as he could. It was the typical crowd, tons of older gents and maybe a couple of hookers looking to make ends meet. Erik surely didn't belong here, but now that some poor sap had taken the fall for his crimes in Paris, he was basically free to leave. A small smile spread across his face, chucking to himself about the idiot who decided to hide in the most obvious place in Paris. But where did the tip come from? Surely this man was not wearing a mask, but since he left his old mask underneath the opera house, maybe they thought it was him? Alas, he had a feeling he knew who it was and why they did it. Even after all this time and everything he did, Mme. Giry and Meg were most likely behind the tip. He wasn't ready to confront them yet, no. But then again, the boy didn't recognize his name, his new persona Mr. Richard, was one of the old managers of the opera house he was eagerly reading about. Erik had to quick think on his feet when Mme. DuMonde asked his name and he figured since the managers never paid their salaries, his name and identity would suffice for now since he needed it. Erik really needed more time to escape from his past, to find his new purpose. Just as he was getting an idea, a fight broke out between to of the regulars. Erik sighed, standing up from the stool. He had six hours left in his shift.