chapter 18

A las, a soul lives within this body, and it dances with life. Ivory bounced beneath delighted flesh. Sounds filled my loathsome home with foreign feelings of joy and fantasy.

Though I fumble with words onto parchment, notes came as flawlessly as they ever did.

Not even my dear Daroga would recognize what radiated from this living cadaver. It would terrify him more than any misdeed I had done. To tell him of what had flourished since his departure, he would truly think me mad.

To feel such things within the true meaning of the word innocent. What wonder .

‘These delusions will only destroy you. We have come too far to lose sight of our ambitions, boy.'

"You will not provoke me today," unbothered by the monster of my thoughts.

Recollections of heavy breaths. Laced fingers. A closeness that could never be close enough, furthered these measures.

Keys, which had never seen the likes of my music, continued to blend effortlessly within my technique.

Fantasy intertwined within the strands of memory, and a new opera entered the world as I entertained visions of her toes in the sand. Our hands grazing long grass in open fields. Stealing a kiss from sweet lips under the Arc de Triomphe .

No, she hated the way the city smelled.

I would kiss her at sunset on a balcony in Spain that overlooked the Balearic Sea.

‘You could not even kiss her in a closet, Erique. She was right there. Bosoms heaving, hand gripped tight in yours, begging you to stay, and you could not do it.'

"I did kiss her."

‘Anyone could kiss a wrist. I am sure the count placed vile lips upon the same spot.'

For the first time, these fingers blundered over keys not intended as a quake of discomfort took over momentarily.

The Ghost's laugh ricocheted in the spaces of my mind.

"You know nothing," I bit, and continued on with the new lovely sounds. "She makes me believe…"

‘Believe what? Believe that you could walk in the world above like any man? Free. Unburdened. Without fear? Frolicking through fields towards a woman waiting for you with open arms? Who would let you kiss her, fuck her freely?'

Fantasies of lifting her skirt and dropping to my knees before her dissolved away. "She calls me friend," I said.

‘Bring her here then if she loves you. Bring her here and see how joyed she would be at never seeing the sun again. At sight of you.'

Now I wondered if she would in fact accept me as I am after our moment together. All our moments.

Or was the Ghost right?

My hands fell from the keyboard and I sat back, staring at the newly inked music.

"The changes I have begun within these walls would please her," I said.

‘Christine is moldable in her age. She would have no choice but to accept her fate. She has voice and grace. Melody could not and will never. Why fight so hard against destiny, suddenly? You are well past curiosity. This woman does not love you.'

"Love…" A word I have known but never experienced.

The moment I left her, my chest ached in her absence. Could it be possible that she could love me?

‘No Erique! The moment she sees you, learns the truth of you, she will run like everyone else.'

One thing she can never know. But the other? If I were to reveal myself, in mask, would she still read with me? Sing with me? Let me close? Maybe closer?

She had asked several times, perhaps it was finally that time?

And speaking of time, it was near time for our lessons.

"You will see."

***

Upon finding the practice room was empty, I searched every corner she could be hiding. Her room. Stables. Even the manager's office.

Had she forgotten our lessons? Or perhaps had gone to the hotel after the event with Carlotta?

No. Communication was something she held to high standard. Melody would not leave without mention of it.

Her unannounced absence should be the least of what ailed this mind, yet I found myself bothered.

‘You see. She ran from you,' the Ghost gloated . ‘Disgusted by your touch.'

The muscles in my shoulders ached at thoughts of her leaving. I strangled the railing of the catwalk, and ground my teeth together as I rocked my jaw. "She will be back," I sneered.

‘You are so certain of this woman's care for you. You have lost yourself.'

He was wrong. She would never wound me.

A familiar voice caught my ear. "Over there." My eyes flicked down to find Joseph Buquet, that the vile stagehand that dared to violently touch my angel, had returned to work. There were many things that could be done to ensure his permanent departure from this place. Some I would delight in.

"Soon," I whispered with warning. Not that he would hear.

The glare I had on the beast faltered when another stepped into view with him. Christine.

Christine with the brightest of smiles upon her face. More brightly than any I had witnessed of her. I had almost forgotten how lovely her smile was.

But, there was a reason for this smile. The silly little Viscount, Raoul, who strode alongside her. Her excitement during our lessons recently now made more sense now.

I filled my lungs; eyes locked on the young couple hiding in the shadows. Rehearsals had ended for the day. They were hiding from view. From me.

A smirk rested on my mouth. "I see you," I said.

She pushed him away, yet still looked on with adoration and melted under stolen kisses. My heart ached at such a sight.

‘She betrays you. Look how she dances around with him. She knows your rules and breaks them. There is still time to fix all of this. She can still be your future. Without her, no one will hear your music. No one will care!'

This should send me into a fury, but there were more important matters at present. I straightened up and pushed back my fallen hair.

I would find her and all would be right.

But first, a pair of ropes tied off near the end of the catwalk just above their heads called out for a bit of play.

"Courtesy of the Ghost!" I said and pulled the tails of the ropes.

The two small sandbags missed the young lovers as they scurried off.

It was not like the Ghost to warn, though I suspected had my Melody learned I may have hurt someone, she would not be too pleased. Our courtship had come too far.

Nor would I ever hurt Christine, even as she betrayed her angel.

The dressing room!

Why it had not occurred to me to check the very place we first spoke delicious banter, was beyond me. She liked to read in there sometimes. It was more comfortable than the practice room or her bed.

The back of the mirror came into sight as I closed in on the room. Erratic were the beats in my chest at anticipation of our soon to be union.

And there she was, curled up on the lounger, face buried in the cushions.

Filled with the bliss of earlier, I took a deep breath, grasping hold of my courage. This would be my proof.

I had started for the latches, until foreign sound stopped me.

Back to the mirror, I pressed my hands against the wall, trying to understand better what I had heard.

Her shoulders shook as she sniffled. "Go away!" her sad voice called out. She always knew when I was around. Sweetest thing.

"What ails you my dear? Are you hurt?"

The worry and rage mixed within. Buquet was back, perhaps this was somehow his doing.

"No," she answered. "Just leave me alone, Erique. You need to leave me alone."

My heart wrenched in the walls of my chest at her command. "Please tell me what has happened. Have you been weeping all day, mon c?ur ?"

"It doesn't matter. None of it does. I'm not even supposed to be here. You're not even supposed to know me. And you wouldn't—"

"It matters," I pleaded. This was an issue I thought long gone. "You matter. To me. Please. What has prompted this?"

Her silent sobs grew heavier, as her shoulders shook harder. "You can't understand."

"Allow me the opportunity."

Melody rolled onto her side and pushed herself upright. Red puffy eyes and swollen cheeks screamed to be cradled. Heavy with whatever weighed her down, she glanced around absentmindedly.

‘Go to her now. What do you wait for?' the Ghost taunted. ‘Show her how you care for her.'

"Why didn't you tell me it was you that night?" she said through a broken voice. "In the catacombs."

How did she know? Antoinette? That would be dealt with later.

"It did not matter, my angel. What mattered…"

"Stop! Don't call me that," she said in a low, tormented voice. She stood, throwing a pillow at the mirror. "I'm not your angel. That's Christine. That's what this whole fucking story's about. I'm nothing to you."

"That is untrue in every word of it."

"Don't lie to me, Erique. Stop lying!" The glazed look of despair spread over her face.

"I have never given her such a name. Other than Ardashir, you are the only one who knows me."

"Your whole life here is based on a lie. And I'm just another one. I don't know you," she said. "And it does matter. The only reason you ever even spoke to me was because of that night. You never would have noticed me, let alone befriended me otherwise. I would probably have been just as dead as that girl everyone was talking about months ago." She glared directly into the mirror, at me, with burning, reproachful eyes.

Her accurate words brought on physical pain. My chest tightened as my heart threatened to explode.

"I would have never hurt you," I said pathetically.

She gave a choked, desperate laugh, then turned her back to me.

‘You see. It was you that knew nothing. She is just like them. Melody does not love you.'

"Do you regret our meeting? Our relationship?" I asked, catching the pain in my throat.

She brought her hand to her face and shrunk between her shoulders. I waited with bated breath for her answer. Praying to a God that does not listen, that he would return her to me just this once.

A sniffle and rapid hands wiped at her face before turning back.

Hurt and longing lay naked in her eyes. "In the worst moments of my life, you've saved me twice. I will be eternally grateful. I wish I could explain better. That everything, this," she said, gesturing to the area around her. "You. Nothing is my own. Everything is something else. I…ugh."

She muffled a scream into her hands.

"I made no mention because I…" I hesitated. Why had I not told her? Could I even tell her the truth? That it was one of the most amazing moments of this pathetic existence? That because of that horrific moment in her life, I now saw a different future? "I don't know. But it was not to deceive you, my Melody."

"Would you have killed me? Had they not come?"

"At first, I thought you were there for me. To lure me out. I had just shattered the chandelier mid-performance. But the fear in your eyes and life splattered across your face, told another story."

"You didn't answer me. Erique, would you have killed me had they not come? Or would you have done worse?"

"No."

A sigh of relief left her.

Not all trust was gone.

Melody paced around the room biting her lip, worried. "I didn't want any of this."

The pain in my throat was worse the longer I held it there. My guts wrenched and my heart ached.

‘She did not want you,' the Ghost said. ‘Can we be free of her now?'

"I don't belong here. I miss my mom. And sister. God only knows what they're going through." She sniffled and wiped her face again. "This place is terrifying. I was trying so hard to get home and even trying to make this work while I was here. It's the only reason I'm here. In this beautiful building. I thought it would send me home. But everyday…" she choked. "And then you. You fog my mind, make me forget to try for home."

She wanted to leave still. Of course, she did. This wasn't her home. I'd forgotten that. If anyone knew what it was like to feel like you didn't belong, it was me.

"…Every day I lose hope of ever seeing them again. And being stuck here. Alone. Terrifies me," she finished.

"I'll buy you a voyage home, dear," I said as my heart fell. "Tomorrow. I'll go with you if you wish."

She muffled the heavy sob that came on at my words. "I wish it was that easy," she said with a half-hearted smile.

"How could it not be?"

Heartbreak streamed down her face again no matter how she tried to squash it. Mirroring my own attempts. "Just stop. You're making everything worse. I'm just so out of place. And so alone--"

I've been with her every day now; how could she possibly feel this way? "You're not alone. I'm here with you. Whenever you need of me. Always."

"You're not though," she shouted. The insult was barbed and hurtful. "You might as well be my imaginary friend. Someone that just fucks with my mind. Messing everything up."

We've held each other. Given gifts. How could she think I was in her mind?

She continued in a defeated tone. "For all I know, that's what you are. I'm doing this to myself because of how terrified and sad I am. I needed something to keep me from going insane. So, I made up an imaginary boyfriend. Who makes me insane."

"Do not say that," I barely got out.

Melody broke down into her hands again sobbing as tears stung my own eyes.

‘Well? This is your chance, run to her. Hold her. Make her feel safe. Make her know she's not alone as you say. That you are real. That you care for her as you claim to.'

With haste, I rushed at the door. Metal latches within my hands. I gritted teeth, forcing myself to pull them open.

But the courage had evaporated.

Coward's hands retreated from the door and hung at my worthless sides. Fingers fidgeted fiercely, yearning to try again.

Gnashing my teeth, I turned back to the mirror and pressed my hand upon it.

"Just go," she cried. Finally, completely defeated.

"What of your lessons?" I asked, attempting for any reprieve of this.

"I won't be taking them anymore," she replied, her face vacant. "You should be happy. You won't have to hear this drowning cat any longer."

My throat seemed to close as the final blow of life had been knocked from me. Deep sobs wracked my insides as I strained to keep upright.

She did not want me. The Ghost was right. He was always right.

As the door closed behind her, I slid to the ground tearing at my chest, attempting to get at the source of this pain. To numb it. Stop it in any way I knew how.

If she wanted no more Ghost, no more Erique, there would be none.