The Man Clad in Black (Phantom of the Opera)

An Explanation and a Promise - Chapter 22

The deal was set.

You were planned to audition in a couple of weeks... to be frank, you were more likely to get a position now rather than later, as many people dropped out because of what happened to Buquet.

For now, however, you had to focus solely on making amends with Matthew.

Yet again, when the two of you were cleaning up the Bouillon Chartier, you found yourselves immersed in conversation.

Matthew was - for lack of better wording - pissed.

"How do you expect me to feel?" he said while angrily scrubbing a stain from off of a dirty table. "I run up a flight of stairs to find you, I'm greeted by a sword-holding bastard wearing a mask, and I can only think that he's pushed you off or something else ridiculous... And when it turns out that you're alright, I go back to save your seat, only for you and that man disappear together! Only God knows what you two could have been doing."

"It wasn't like that, Matthew!" you pleaded. "You really think that I'd -"

"What was it like, then?" he asked, throwing his rag onto the table. Upon getting no response from him, he let out a sigh and moved back to scrubbing the table. "You know, all I wanted to do was keep you safe... but now I'm beginning to understand why you wanted to make that visit alone."

"Shut up," you murmured. You grabbed your rag as you began to wipe down a few tables, almost taking out your anger with it, and you wiped your forehead with your wrist as you looked down. "I was hurt, and he just wanted to help."

Matthew paused.

"I didn't know you were hurt," he said softly, glancing back to you. "What happened?"

"I..." you started. If you said anything about how it had been either him or Erik who had accidentally cut you, then he would either hate himself or hate Erik all the more... however, you couldn't think of anything else to say. "When I moved to bring you two apart, one of you accidentally caught your sword in my dress, and... well, I got a scratch on my stomach."

Matthew glanced at you, a clearly worried.

"Was it bad?" he asked, his eyebrows furrowing.

"No! No - of course not," you said quickly, shaking your head. "Erik just insisted that he helped bandage it before I did anything else, and... well, we lost track of time and I missed the last bit opera."

"How? They started it from the very beginning again - it was so long that it was barely done by this morning."

You couldn't help but smile inwardly to yourself. You bit your tongue so that you would keep from laughing - apparently, Erik had lied straight to your face just to keep you there... normally, you would be upset, but you found it truly entertaining.

"I see..." you said, biting back a laugh. Once you (somewhat) recomposed yourself, you glanced back to Matthew, giving him a small, hopeful smile. "Well, if there is any way that I can make it up to you, please don't hesitate to ask - I feel horrible!"

"The Masquerade," Matthew said. "Come with me - my father insists that I come, and it's only proper that I have a date."

Your eyes widened. A date? No, you couldn't - despite after knowing that Erik was in love with Christine, you'd much rather get over your feelings toward him as to jeopardize a future relationship.