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Portrait of the Soul	By : sirenofsaturn Category: M through R > The Phantom of the Opera > Het Views: 2723 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own The Phantom of the Opera, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Hello friends. Tonight I write this chapter not just out of my normal Erik filled passion, but as a time consumer. I need the mental stress release. My dearest friend Elly is currently in the hospital. She has been severely ill with a stomach virus, and now a CAT scan shows us a blood clot in her neck. We will not know the MRI result until tomorrow. Until then our hearts and minds remain heavy. If you could find it at all in your hearts to simply say a prayer to whomever you believe in, I would be most grateful. I believe God, the Goddess, Allah, Isis, a goat, or whatever energy or force is up there hears the same prayers, and hopefully answers them. Thank you very much.
Chapter thirty-eight
“That is ridicules! Why would you deny us the proper funds?” Mia fumed. The mangers had not reacted well to the knowledge of the new sets for the upcoming production.
“We already gave you funding for the sets Mademoiselle Sclar. If you do not recall, you, yourself, sent Theo to our office. We gave the sceneshifter the funds which he used to buy the very supplies you requested.” Monsieur Richard reminded. “That was only one production ago!”
“Exactly.” Mia clarified. “Last season. It’s January, Monsieur, a new season, a new year! I’ve been told that the last production of The Magic Flute was over three seasons ago! I inspected the old sets from the last production, but they are not salvageable.”
“Define, Mademoiselle, not salvageable.” Moncharmin demanded.
“The sets were growing mold! They’ve been in a damp cellar for three years, see them for yourself if you prefer…” Mia trailed off. She was slightly surprised to watch the mangers pale slightly. Most people would avoid the third cellar entirely just from the rumors of the opera ghost.
“Regardless, Mademoiselle Sclar, I’m afraid it is not in the budget. I’m sure the mold will dissolve…It really is harmless. I’m sure to a woman things like that are looked upon differently, however as business men we have to take into consideration-“
“First of all Gentlemen, I am your employee. The salary I receive is given to me as if I were genderless! My gender has nothing to do with it. Next, have we not learned anything from the past? We know now with 19th century science that mold is a potential carrier of sickness. What would be more harmful to the budget, new sets, or replacements for your workers who are in the infirmary? And lastly sirs, as far as the budget goes, perhaps you could contribute more to the sets if you contributed less to your painted woman and casinos!”
“You dare to accuse us of embezzlement!”
“I am accusing you of being liars!”
“We do not care for such accusations Mademoiselle.” Richard stated.
“Nether do we care to give funding without sufficient evidence that you are in great need of new sets.” Moncharmin clarified.
Just as Mia was about to open her mouth several chorus girls screamed behind her. Mia turned around just in time to watch one of the backdrops come crashing down. The yards of heavy fabric thundered onto the stage, causing the supporting sandbag to dangle in the air.
“My God, Theo! What in God’s name happened? Who was stationed on that pulley?” Moncharmin demanded.
“None of my men, sir.” Theo smiled. “…Besides that backdrop was stationed on the far row. No one goes up there. You’d have to be a ghost…”
As the managers began whispering to one another, Mia’s eyes glared at the fallen backdrop. ‘Erik.’
“Mademoiselle Sclar?” Monsieur Richard began. “Perhaps…the funding for the sets is still negotiable. Perhaps we can speak of an estimate after the weekend?”
“…That would be fine Monsieur. I’ll stop by your office then.” Mia spoke, keeping her voice monotone.
Watching the two leave Mia sighed turning around to find Theo standing next to her. “That a way to show ‘em! I’ve never seen anyone stand up to the managers like that before. Except maybe Madam Giry! With the ghost on our side, we can really turn our department around! Congratulations Boss!” Theo beamed, taking Mia’s hand from her side and shaking it.
“Maybe we do have the ghost on our side, but it would do him good to know we can reach perfection on our own.” Mia mumbled.
“I can’t remember when the ghost pulled out a stunt like that over something as small as set funding! It’s like you’re one of them Christian prodigies with the wrath of God on your side!”
“I follow the Jewish faith, Theo, and it would do you good to remember that ours is a vengeful God.”
After everyone had called quits for the day, Mia made her way back to her dormitory. She remained on her bed sketching the final designs for the production. While adding the final touches three familiar knocks echoed from the floorboards. Repeating the pattern briefly with her foot, Mia continued her work.
As Erik ascended from the trap door he felt slightly bewildered as Mia made no effort to greet him. Walking up to her, Erik craned his neck to look at her sketches.
“Those are for the final act? It will be nice when you add the pastels. With the slightest drop of color one can truly have an idea of how the sets will look once built.”
Mia sighed closing the sketch in its leather binding. “That will have to wait. I left my pastels in the Louis-Phillip room.”
“Shall we?” Erik offered extending his arm.
Mia gave no response, and silently took the masked man’s arm.
Halfway threw the fourth cellar, Erik began to notice Mia’s silence was not due to fatigue or creative thinking. Her shoulders were hunched and her posture reflected that something else appeared to be bothering her.
“My dear, among the many talents that I posses…I must confess I am not a mind reader.”
“Then one of your talents must be hypocrisy.”
Erik stopped walking. “I beg your pardon?”
“Am I getting my French mixed up? You said you understood how important my work was to me.”
“Go on.”
“I told you myself I could handle my position on my own. I did not need the assistance of any opera ghost!”
“My dear you have your job, I have mine. I was simply making sure that everything in my theatre runs perfectly. If it bothers you so, then convince yourself that I did this more for me than for you.” Erik settled and began walking.
“You don’t understand!” Mia struggled keeping Erik’s pace. “Ghost or not, you are recognized as a man! The managers do not only pay your salary and follow your orders out of fear. You have to admit they respect you to some extent.”
“Yes. The respect me, out of fear.” Erik clarified.
“Yes, but I don’t have that Erik. I have to fight for any respect in my employment. When I was arguing with the managers I was not only trying to gain their respect, but everyone else’s. Even though Theo respects me, the rest of the sceneshifters still have trouble taking a woman’s orders! I was winning that argument! If I had succeeded I would have held the respect of everyone in that auditorium! Now all the credit for the new funding goes not to me, not even to you, but a ghost.”
“You are being completely irrational! Your conversation with the management was going nowhere! The two are so pig-headed you would have had more success stealing the money from a bank vault!”
“You’re missing the point Erik! It is nearly impossible for a woman to gain any respect in this sort of career. The only other woman I work with run around in practice uniforms spreading rumors of the opera ghost!”
“Well you do not spread rumors about the ghost, my dear. You just choose to share your bed with him.” Erik spat.
“I share my bed with you Erik, a man! Not a ghost, a man! How long do you intend to keep up this farce?” Mia demanded.
Erik stopped, turning around to look Mia in the eye. “Not much longer my dear. However, to make the full transition from ghost to man there is something I require. Something I planned to obtain tonight!”
“Forgive me, Monsieur, but I am no mood to lie with you tonight.”
“It is not in my interest to couple with a woman who is angry with me. Besides with these events I question if you would even consider my request.”
“What request might that be?”
“Marriage.”
I think I’ll stop there for tonight. I warned all of you about the cliffhanger in the last chapter so don’t be too angry. It does however ensure reviews, even if they are from a bunch of angry phans calling me an evil lady.
Erik: But you enjoy that…
Please remember I own nothing except any original characters and this fiction based plot. Please read and review.
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Portrait of the Soul