The Fifth Cellar (Phantom of the Opera)

Chapter 7 - Departure

Evangeline's POV:

I leaned over the railing and watched the party. It the night after I had heard Erik and Christine. I wasn't feeling up to going to the party for the departing managers and so I didn't go. I was watching it though but I wasn't feeling sociable. Ever since I had heard Erik say he loved Christine I hadn't wanted to be with anyone. I couldn't imagine why I was so jealous. After all Erik and I were only friends. That was all. Right? I was confused. I watched the people talking and laughing so happily and wished that I could be among them. I sighed and sat down on the floor. Suddenly I heard a small laugh behind me. I turned and saw a form behind me. I knew how it was.

“Good evening, Erik.” He beside me and sat down.

“Good evening, Ballet Rat.” I frowned at his name for me. He hadn't ever called me by my name. It was always “Ballet Rat.” Oh well, so life goes.

“Why are you here, Erik?”

“I thought I would visit the departing managers before they left.”

“They sent you an invitation.” I laughed at the thought of the managers offering the Opera Ghost an invitation.

“No, I invited myself. What about you? You don't look well. I am surprised you aren't down there with the other ballet rats.” I smiled. It was the first time that he had ever taken an interest in my feelings.

“Well, I haven't felt well and my sprain isn't helping. I can't dance for a while.” Erik didn't say anything. I had expected that. He finally stood and said,

“Well, I had better go say hello to my managers. I have certain things to do. When I am done I can take you down to my lair if you are bored?” I could hear the nervousness in his voice. Another first. He asked me to go down to his lair. Instead of my making the decisions he had asked. I was proud. I smiled up at him and said,

“That sounds good.” Erik bowed and glided away. I watched at he entered the party. Few people even noticed he was there. Suddenly Jemma pointed and cried,

“The Opera Ghost!” I could hear the terror in her tone. I looked at Erik and realized something. He had taken his mask off. I tried to see his face but he was turned so I couldn't catch a look. The way that the people were screaming he mustn’t look to normal. There was much screaming and I soon lost sight of Erik. I didn't find him again. I watched as they sat themselves to eat a lavish dinner. My watching paid off when I saw Erik appear at the end of the table. I couldn't hear what was being said but I knew that Erik was talking and everyone near him was listening. How could they not when his voice was so captivating. What was strange was the fact that no one mentioned anything about a Ghost. I took a long look at Erik and realized he had a nose. Erik didn't have a nose but this was Erik. Sometimes he confused me completely. Not to mention throwing my emotions into a tizzy. After a while and a short conversation Erik disappeared. I waited patiently and soon Erik appeared. I laughed and limped to greet him.

“Well done, Monsieur Opera Ghost. I am proud.” Erik took an exaggerated bow and I knew that he was in a jovial mood. “Erik, are you always this happy when you succeed in scaring people?” Erik chuckled and I thought I would never hear so fine a sound. His chuckle meant something. It wasn't a meaningless laugh that most men give. This one was full of feeling and held such warmth.

“You have a nice laugh.” He didn't say a word in answer to my statement but completely changed the subject.

“Do you still want to go with me to the lair?” I nodded and reached forward to take his hand. I gripped it firmly and I heard him gasp. I looked up into the black holes that served for his eyes. I could have sworn I saw tears hanging there. I laid my other hand on his and said,

“What's wrong?” When he spoke I could hear the shock and pain in his voice.

“No one has ever held my hand willingly. No one. Not ever.” I gripped it even tighter.

“Well, now they have. Can we go to the lair?” He nodded and led me quickly through the cellars.

Once we reached the lair, I settled down in my chair and watched as Erik started to painstakingly write. He was struggling to copy words onto the page. I walked over to him and saw what he was trying to write. I said quietly,

“Erik, do you want me to write it?” He looked up at me and nodded. He moved and handed me the quill. I looked at the ink and was surprised to find it was red. I sat down at the desk and started to take diction. Erik cleared his throat and started to speak.