Persephone's Angel

First Fight

Chapter Thirty Nine: First Fight

--* Erik, in the next few days, sat upon his very last nerve.

He was agitated, and flustered, but he told me not why. He only stomped around, lashing out at us.

Alas, it was true, Erik took back up the position as vocal director and pushed us to the very fibers of our being. Even I, he didn't let up on!

Pierre usually came to rehearsal with Erik and I (and was adored by all of the cast members, he was a 'ladies man' if you will) and sat in the first row to watch us. It was one strangely cold day in September and I hadn't seen Erik the entirety of the day! However, when he arrived into the auditorium for practice there was a sour expression tattooed upon his face; as if he smelt something especially distasteful. The ballet and chorus girls were beginning to warm up to him, through my doing, but they kept their distance; they didn't want a repeat of when he tore of his mask. Speaking of his face/mask, I didn't think it was that bad, in fact, I liked it; I liked it much better than the mask he stuck over it, anyways.

Anyways, getting back to the story, Erik lead us through warm ups, his mood not changing an inch. And, when we began to sing, he sat in a chair before us, and scowled at each and every one of us! Even me! I'm not writing that to sound self--absorbed, but, I was his fiancé and, normally he loved it when I sang, now he scowled and his eyes spat venom at me when I opened my mouth. He stopped me after the first measure.

"Persephone, sweetie" he started, giving a overly--obvious fake smile. "It's higher in pitch, my love, open your mouth wider" said he, I nodded "and" he continued "when you're singing place your hands by your sides, not before you, not behind you, to your sides." He continued, then he turned to the rest of the girls "and that goes as a general note" he hissed, finishing. He nodded to me. "Begin again, lovely" he commanded, I nodded and began again; this time, he didn't stop me until my sixth measure.

"Honey" he growled, rubbing the sides of his temples "diction, diction! I can't understand what you're saying, sing loud and proud, don't stop that, but, I need to be able to hear the words" he paused. "Begin again" he finished, I sighed and did so; he stopped me on the twelfth measure. He was rubbing his face, and, I knew that in that head of his, trouble was stewing. "Persephone, I know you can reach that note; I know for sure you can! Believe me, my ears have been subject to it more than once; go higher" he ordered.

"But, angel, you see, I must, immediately afterwards, go quite low and I don't know if--"

"If you can hit it?" Erik growled, narrowing his eyes at me.

"N-No, I just don't know if I'll have the time to hit it" I explained; but, Erik would hear none of it in his strange state.

"You don't think you would have time to hit it?" He laughed "La Carlotta could hit it in time, Christine could hit it in time; what makes you so entirely special so that you cannot hit it in time?" He hissed; plunging his hands into his pockets and strolling over to me. This was entirely out of character for him! Had he been possessed? I stared at him in wonder for a moment before answering.

"I-I don't find myself special at all, angel, but they're playing the song in four--four time, when it clearly states it should be in three--four time." I explained, pointing to where it so stated that on the song sheet. By this time, Erik was a ticking time bomb, and I should've seen it, I should've kept my mouth shut and went faster, but, no, I didn't. It was because he was usually so patient with me and waited upon me hand and foot, and now, when he had no patience to spare, I couldn't adapt to this behavior; I don't believe anyone fully could in a matter of moments. Erik turned away from me and continuously smoothed his hair down, tugging at the cloth of his sleeves and stamping his left foot in spite; he threw himself back at me and caused me to drop the song sheet.