Mon Espion || Phantom of the Opera

Chapter 42 - Don Juan

Despite Christine's little temper tantrum, the entire preparation for tonight's opening performance was running quite smoothly. The costumes were completed with their finished details, the scenery and props were waiting for their respected queues, and even the dancers were perfecting their points while waiting for the show to begin. Constance was in her own dressing room, apart from the rest of the cast and crew, preparing herself in her own costume. She wore an ensemble similar to that of Aminta's dress, with rich red and gold hues mixed with touches of black to help her blend in with the rest of the ensemble. Her hair was pinned up with a giant faux rose clip securing loose strands and her makeup was quite dramatic for such a role. She looked at herself in the mirror, truly astounding herself in her appearance.

Taking a deep breathe, she decided to pass the little time she had by practicing her role, "Poor young maiden! For the thrill on your tongue of stolen sweets; you will have to pay the bill, tangled in the winding sheets! Serve the meal and serve the maid! Serve the master so that, when tables, plans and maids are laid. Don Juan triumphs once again!"

"Indeed," a male voice called out behind her, so softly she almost did not hear it.

Constance gasped in surprise, turning around to find none other than Erik in the room with her. He wore a completely black outfit, fitted with a black mask which covered most of his face. His cloak behind him gave him the look of a paranormal creature from horror stories that she had heard in her youth and yet she still found comfort in the sight of him. Her nerves were getting the best of her and seeing him brought her peace.

"Erik, you startled me. I didn't hear you come in," she stated, moving her hand in front of her face repeatedly to cool herself, "I was just preparing for-"

"Do not sing tonight," Erik interrupted her, looking at her coldly with a stare unknown to her.

Words would not come out of her mouth for at the moment she felt as if she were frozen. The sudden command from his mouth startled her and she wondered who, if not Erik, she was talking to.

"You fought for me to get this part," she retorted, her eyebrow raised in his direction, "minutes before your opera begins you want to recast my part?"

He remained silent as he slowly walked towards her, the once comforting expression of his persona completely changed to that of indifference. He easily reached her, making her back press against the cool glass she was just staring into. Constance hid her fear as best as she could, knowing all to well this was not her Erik.

"You never were meant to play this role ballet rat," he retorted, raising one of his arms above her head to tower her, his palm resting on the glass behind her. His other hand pressed into her side, gently holding her in place, "Non, you will not be on stage tonight."

"At all?" Constance asked, too astonished to go back to rational thinking, "you're removing me from your opera? Erik, I know how much this means to you-"

"Then," he interrupted again, lowering his hand to cup her chin, making her look at his cold expression, "you shall see no reason as to why you should be on my stage."

Anger flooded through her from his words, her arm snatching and tossing aside his from her body as she spoke firmly, "This is not the Erik I know. Release him unto me at once!"

"Ah, so the ballet rat has figured it out?" the Phantom laughed, gripping her collar gently but yet somewhat threateningly against her throat. His fingers gently caressing the exposed flesh from the revealing costume of his opera, toying with her senses as he spoke, "come now, tell me, why am I here instead of your precious fiancé hmm?"