Sweet Intoxication

Chapter Seven

What have I done?
I asked myself this question repeatedly throughout the day. At one time, I even thought about talking to the daroga about her, but I knew he would be quite melodramatic if I told him about Christine's lessons. I was not in the mood to be lectured at about how I had given my word and whatnot. So, I busied myself with some time in my work room. Perhaps I could compose some music? No, my mind is too distracted for that. As I slowly made my way to my work room, I tried to think of something that could keep my mind busy. And try my hardest not to think of her.
However, while trying to write down some ideas for a new invention for my torture room, I could not help thinking of my Christine. No, not your Christine. She is Raoul's now.
I had known that this was true, yet I found myself drawing Christine in the margin of my papers. My mind had little knowledge about women's body, as I had never been close enough to see. Of course, I will admit, I had seen my share of dressing rooms of men and women. I lived in the walls of an opera house, so it was quite inevitable. It was not in a crude way I saw them, but rather in an artistic way. My own body is decayed and hideous, how could I not be curious as to what a human body is like. Despite my lack of knowledge, I was imagining how beautiful she was under all those ruffles and ribbons.
Such soft, pale skin Christine had. Every time I had the chance to touch Christine, I enjoyed her gentle touch that contrasted greatly with my own decayed flesh. If only it were possible to enjoy Christine's soft touch whenever and wherever I wanted. At the thought of Christine, completely undressed and pressed against my body, I felt the blood rush from my head.
That is quite enough. My mind interrupted after I got slightly carried away in my daydreaming. You have not done any work! I reminded myself before I took one last glance at the sketch I had made of Christine.
For the entire day, I managed to keep myself completely focused on an addition to the torture room. I had no intent of using the addition, but it was quite relaxing to plan it all out. Once I had finished that, I decided it was time to sleep. Tomorrow would be quite an emotionally exhausting day, whether I had wanted it to or not.
When I awoke after some hours of restless sleep, filled with dreams about my one and only, I was strangely nervous about seeing her. Usually I was rushing to get dressed, hoping it would make seeing her come quickly, but that day I chose to take my time. I only had one mirror in the house, and I had not looked at it for quite some time. I did not wish to remind myself of my hideousness, as my mother had done when I was a child. However, that day I was almost tempted to enter Christine's room in my home and look at my reflection. I quickly shook off this urge, and decided I needed to take a short stroll outside of the cellars before I went to Christine's rehearsal.
Despite taking my time to prepare for the day, I still had an hour or so before the daroga would be expecting me, so I took my time walking through the large building. Occasionally, I would pass some unsuspecting person and I would watch them try to walk as far from me as they could. Of course, they did not know who I was, but my presence still had the same effect. I missed being the opera ghost with every fiber of my being. It was my entire life for so long, without it I felt like a machine that had lost it's purpose. Never could I find something so satisfying as making a grown man lose the color in his face from a single word whispered in his ear. Being Christine's teacher was very pleasing of course, but it lacked the rush of being a ghost.
After walking somberly and pondering about what life would be like if I had never seen Christine all those years ago, I decided it was time to meet the daroga. As usual, he was sitting next to my seat in box five, sitting back in his chair and casually watching the stage.
"Daroga," I said as I took my seat.
He looked at his wrist watch and smiled. "You are earlier than usual, Erik."
"I went on a stroll through the opera house, and there was nothing of interest." I shrugged as casually as I could. I did not need the daroga to know I was feeling rather pensive the last couple days. The daroga began to set the chess set as we waited for the rehearsal to begin. He watched me carefully and I knew he was trying to read my face under the mask. Perhaps I should tell the daroga. After all, I am sure he is much more experienced with people than I am. I ignored the thought and tried to focus on the chess game.
Of course, this did not work, and I ended up losing the first game. The daroga smiled rather smugly, which was to be expected, considering I had easily beaten him almost every other game. I sighed and turned to look at the stage, hoping the rehearsal would start so I might not have to lose once again. It did not. We played another silent game, and once again, I lost.
"What on earth has you so distracted today, Erik?" the daroga asked, looking slightly concerned. "Since your retirement, I would have thought you would get better at chess."
At this moment, I was rather glad I had a mask. Otherwise, my emotions would have been quite easy to read on my face. "I thought you could use a few wins. After all, if you do not win at chess, what is there for you to win at?" I said with the most indifferent tone I could manage.
The daroga's jade colored eyes felt like they were trying to read my mind. "Erik, I know you rather well. At least, better than most. You are much too prideful to let me win." He did not bother to set the chess set up for another game.
"I am changed man, daroga. I almost died. What is a couple of chess games to me anyway?" I said with a nonchalant wave of the hand.
He now looked slightly exasperated, pursing his lips. "I can tell you are lying to me, Erik. If you refuse to tell me, I am going to end up finding out in my own way."
This was true. If I did not tell the daroga, he would surely begin following me around once again, and I certainly did not want that. After a few moments of silence I finally spoke. "I miss being the opera ghost." He nodded slowly, although his eyes told me that he did not believe me. It was not a complete lie, but of course, it was not the full truth. However, would one expect more of a monster like myself? "The rush of frightening some with a single glance, or muttered word, it is the most consuming feelings I have experienced. Well, disregarding my love for Christine, of course. Can you not think of anything that made you feel like that, daroga?"
He furrowed his brow and looked away. "I try not to let any emotion consume me. I am a level-headed man, Erik. Quite the opposite of your own constant melodramatic state."
"Melodramatic? Who are you calling melodramatic? I am not the one who followed another all the way to a new country simply to spy on him."
"Spy? Erik, if I had been spying on you, I would not have made my presence so known." He smiled that smug smile which I had become so familiar with in all the years I'd known him. "You know as well as I do that I cannot return to my country after what I did for you. I am simply trying to ensure that you will not use the 'skills' you acquired all those years ago."
"If you that is what you wish to call it, daroga." I looked down at the stage and saw that they were beginning to set up for rehearsal. I decided to change the subject, lest I slip up on my little secret.  "Did you see the performance last night?" I asked as casually as I could. Christine had improved quite a bit, and I needed to know if it had been noticed.
The daroga nodded, watching the stage as well. "I do not have any other entertainment since you have retired. Speaking of which, Christine's skill has greatly increased over the last month or so."
Internally, I grinned in triumph, but outwardly I had managed to keep a mostly straight expression. "Has she?" I said in mock surprise. "I have not been to a performance recently."
"Of course, you would not know anything about how this improvement occurred," said the daroga. "Would you, Erik?"
I pressed my lips together tightly. There is no way he knows. You have been extremely careful, and Christine would not tell the daroga of all people. "Me?" I said, acting offended. "Honestly, daroga, do you think I am that unwise?"
"Unwise is not the word. Daring, I would say," said the daroga. He had lost his smug smile and was now staring at me intently with those jade colored eyes.
With clenched teeth I turned away from him. I wanted to shout my triumphs to him, to the world. Christine loved me, she had kissed me. "I do not know anything, daroga. Will you never be content with anything I tell you? Why will you not believe Erik?" I said in an exasperated tone. "Now, if you would please quiet down, I would like to hear the rehearsal," I grumbled as I saw Christine glide onto the stage, looking as radiant as the first time I had seen her.
The daroga fell silent, but I could feel his eyes watching me. However, I could have cared less if he were at that moment trying to kill me, for Christine began to sing, and everything was perfect. At once, I was mesmerized by her beauty, and that seraphic voice. As I listened to her sing, I could not help but imagining a normal life with Christine. I imagined singing with her until we swooned away with delight, alone in a little house that wasn't five stories underground. All I wanted was to like like anybody else. Was that too much to ask, because of my terrible appearance?
Upon seeing Christine on the stage, all my worries about the other day's trouble had melted away. "Erik," the daroga finally spoke. "She is not worth ruining your life over. You can leave any time you wish."
"True," I sighed. The thought had crossed my mind enough, but I could not do that to Christine. She needed me . . . right?  "I can't leave Christine," I shook my head and waved a hand dismissively at the daroga. "She is the only thing keeping me alive."
"As I recall," the daroga replied, "I was the one who found you. Half-dead and already in the coffin." He smiled smugly once again. "That is the second time I saved your life."
"And I am likely to forget it, considering I have spared your life more than once," I began as I crossed my arms. "Can you not take a hint, daroga? I just wish to live in peace, but you seem quite determined to make life unbearable to me!"
"I am just trying to ensure your own safety, Erik," the daroga sighed.
He was right. My love for Christine was always a dangerous game, one that had actually almost succeeded in killing me. Yet for some unknown reason, I could never seem to let her go. "I am much too old, daroga, for dreams such as those. I prefer to stay in my home, and listen to the music," I said.
"Not too long ago, you were telling me how you wanted to live like anybody else," the daroga interrupted. "I don't believe you for a moment."
"I don't care a hang for what you believe," I grumbled, "daroga. It is my life, not yours. If you wish to live simply to make my life unbearable, so be it." I sat back in my chair, Christine had finished her part for the scene, and now Carolus Fonta was singing. "For the last time, I have resolved to leave Christine be. I wish you would take a hint and put an end to this snooping!"
"What am I supposed to think," he began, "Erik, when I see you acting so distant. Love has clouded all your thoughts, and now I can see how it almost killed you. Yet, you seem not to learn, for you are doing the same thing now." The daroga shook his head in what seemed to be disappointment. "You are killing yourself."
"Perhaps that is not such a bad thing for me," I grumbled. "I've lead such a morose life, and I have nothing left but a house with a false bottom and a torture room, five stories under the ground. The only woman whom I have ever and will ever love has married another man. Leaving me to die alone in my little home, with nothing but my music." My head dropped into my hands as I thought about the gloomy future I had in store.
The daroga heaved a deep sigh. "My friend, you have a heart that can hold the entire empire of the world. Why do you try to content yourself with a cellar?"
"It is the only thing Erik can do," I uttered bitterly. "I am hideous, and the outside world is full of cruelness and hate," I mumbled, almost inaudibly. "Especially for one as offensive as myself."  The daroga shook his head at my melodramatics, but I continued anyway. I figured that if I managed to make my presence unbearable he would leave me alone for at least a little while. "Erik is destined to die alone, five stories underground, surrounded by his own masterpieces which shall never see the light of day. Erik shall die knowing the woman he loves is with another, completely unaware of his suffering. Oh, pity me!" I moaned, louder than I had meant to apparently, for the performers on stage stopped for a moment to listen. The daroga glared at me as he leaned back in his seat to avoid being detected. The performers resumed their rehearsal, and the daroga must have gotten tired of my negative mood, since for the rest of the rehearsal was only filled with small talk.
Afterwards, I took my time getting to Christine's dressing room. Upon my arrival to her mirror, I saw Christine sitting in a chair, looking very excited. Her beauty quickly had quickly made all of my worries melt away, and I could not help smiling bittersweetly. "Good afternoon, Christine," I called out softly.
"You're late, Erik," Christine said with a smile as she turned to the mirror. "I was starting to wonder if you were never going to come!"
"My dear," I chuckled, "there is nothing that could keep me from you. Not even my own self." Ignoring my own cringe-worthy hopeless romantic self, I worked the mechanism and stepped into Christine's dressing room.
Christine blushed a beautiful shade of red and stood from her seat to greet me. "Oh, Erik! You are much too kind," she laughed, as I kissed her hand, or at least as well as one can with a mask. "But, enough of that, for I have to tell you something."
"Please," I began, "do tell." For once, I was relieved to have a mask. Without it, I would most certainly not have been able to hide my anxieties.
"I have made a decision," she stated simply. The thoughts in my mind that I had managed to subdue began racing once again.
"Have you?" I asked as nonchalantly as I could manage. Instead of replying, Christine stood in front of me and wrapped her arms around me. Since her stature did not nearly equal mine, her head rested on my chest. "Christine, I love you," I began. "Please do not tell me that I cannot, for I do. There is no force upon this earth that could ever convince me to stop wanting you. If I tried, I am sure it would kill me."
Christine looked up at me and took my hands in her's. Her beautiful eyes began to water only a little, but she smiled. "Well then, you shall live, my dear," she laughed. "For I do  love you in return!" There were no words from Christine that could have made me happier in that moment. I could not help but remove my mask and kiss her, right there in her dressing room.
Christine was practically giddy with excitement as we walked towards the mirror to begin the journey to my home. "If only we didn't have to keep it such a secret, I would announce our happiness to the whole world from the rooftop of this opera house," she smiled. "Oh, but how happy we shall be, Erik," she said.

"I do hope you do not mind if instead that rooftop is my home in the cellars, at least for today," I said, as I escorted the woman I love to my home. "But I promise I shall always try to return the happiness I feel, for I fear I shall never be able to repay you for the kindness you have done me."