The Phantom's Shadow (On Hold/Serious Editing In Progress)

Be Safe, That's All I Ask Of You

Shadow's POV

          "So. . .I'm staying down here for the entirety of rehearsals? I don't go sing or dance in the performance at all?" I'm surprised by how hurt I sound, because in all honesty, the reason I'm upset has nothing to do with my absence from the show.

     It's the fact that he's really going through with Don Juan.

     Those icy blue eyes tell me that he knows the hidden pain behind my words, but his lips answer my spoken question in an effort to console me.

          "Yes." He responds, before expanding on his statement. "Rehearsals here usually last about a month or so, but since this is an entirely new opera it's likely it could take a little longer. It all depends on how efficiently the managers carry out their tasks."

     Despite the fact that I know it will do no good to try and convince him otherwise, my response to this is still a plea for him not to go through with it.

          "Erik, must you really go through with this?" I whisper, looking down at my feet.

     Now that he knows how I feel about him, it makes communicating these things all the more awkward and embarrassing.

     His hand is under my chin in seconds, and I tremble as I stare into those eyes.

          "Shadow, I know this is hard for you, but please. . .don't you understand?" His voice begs for me to just trust him and stop trying to persuade him. "Please, please try not to be upset."

     I'm unable to say anything as long as I am looking at him. His eyes hold a power over me that's been present since I first met him, and it's only grown in strength since he knows how I feel. So, I look away and step over to sit on the organ seat, running my fingers over the keys, though not hard enough to emit any sounds.

          "Would you like to learn to play?" His voice is hesitant, telling me that he's worried he might press a button and set me off if he's not too careful.

          "No thank you, Monsieur. Not today."

          "Is there anything you are fond of doing that I can get the materials for you to do so?"

          "No, Mons—" I cut myself off, before I backtrack. "Actually, yes, Monsieur. I am rather fond of writing - at least, in a journal of some sort. Might you have anything to write with and paper to write it down on?"

          "Of course."

     He disappears for a few moments to collect the materials, and I allow myself to sing a few quiet notes of concern and heartache.

          "Be safe, that's all I ask of you."

. . . . .

     Rehearsals did last longer than they usually would, but most of it was from the production being completely new, as Erik had told me.

     Staying with Erik allowed me a glimpse at who Don Juan was, considering he practiced the part in the lair during those two months. I never stopped trying to persuade him to stay here and try another, less dangerous way of winning Christine's heart.

     But every time I received denial as his response.

          "Shadow, would you mind helping me with something?" His voice lures me out of my daydreams, and I walk over to a place where he has a mirror set up so he can put on his mask and make sure it's straight. "Does the costume look good? Does it need any adjustments?"