Beneath the Opera House

I pulled my cloak around my shoulders tightly and pulled the hoodover my head. Not only was it chilly this deep down in the operahouse, but I really didn't want anyone to recognize me if they sawme. I was ashamed enough to be doing what I was doing, but, needlessto say, it would be so much worse if someone found out about it. Noone should be walking around this late anyway, not even the men whoregularly cleaned the building after shows and practices.Nevertheless, you never knew when a nosy person was watching you totry to start some gossip among the workers here. As a dancer wholived here, if anyone found out what I was doing, I'd be fired andhomeless. I had to be very careful.

I waited in the usual spot for him. It was deep below the groundfloor and tucked away from wandering eyes. It was quiet enough tohear a pin drop. I heard him before I saw him. The man approached meout of the deep shadows. He smiled when he saw me.

"Ah, Collete, my beauty."

"Bonjour, Gerrard. . ." I blushed. The stagehand in frontof me had taken a liking to me a few months ago. I didn't think muchof him until I found out he was Monsieur Andre's nephew. He hadgloated about it and told me that's how he got a job here. I didn'tbelieve him until I asked around and found out that he was tellingthe truth. When I still declined his advances, he had threatened tohave me fired. He said he'd tell his Uncle Andre I was a whore andsnuck out at night to sleep around. I was too afraid to say no to himafter that. Like I've said before: if I was fired from my job here,I'd be homeless. Too much was at stake.

Gerrard took one of my hands and kissed my knuckles. He was agood-looking man and could admittedly be quite charming at times, buthe was far too interested in himself for my liking. He enjoyedbragging and talking about himself which was why I didn't like him inthe first place.

We entered a nearby room where Gerrard had placed two chairsside-by-side. We would sit here to briefly talk before making out fora while. I found it boring after doing it every night for almost twoweeks now, but he never seemed to tire of it. He said he liked thescandalousness of us sneaking around at night when everyone else wasasleep. I preferred it that way anyway. At least no one would see mewith him like this. If word got back to Firmin or Andre or, heavens,Madame Giry of what me and Gerrard were doing, I'd no longer bewanted here. Workers here weren't supposed to have relationstogether. It was generally thought that it would take focus away fromthe productions and that it could lose the opera house money.

Once Gerrard and I entered the room, I was surprised to see that theusual two chairs had been replaced by a couch.

"What's this?" I asked. "Where did you get it?"

"I found it in one of the abandoned dressing rooms and dragged itdown here a few hours ago for tonight." I didn't ask why he wasrummaging around in the dressing rooms where he was very much notallowed. He lead me to the couch and pulled my hood down around myshoulders. "Your beauty never ceases to amaze me." I hated how hecould make me blush so easily.

It seemed Gerrard was in no mood to talk as we got straight to thekissing. After making out for a little while, he got a little handsyand started to grope me a little. This wasn't new, but I startedgetting slightly uncomfortable as he became more aggressive. Ifinally pulled away from him after he ran a hand up my thigh andpushed my dress up a bit.

"Gerrard. . .what are you doing?"

"Ah, come on. This feels good. Let's just keep going with it." Heleaned forward to kiss me again as he touched my inner thigh. Iquickly pulled away and pulled my dress back down.

"No, Gerrard. Kissing is one thing. . .this is another,"

"Please? I'll stop if you get uncomfortable."