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The Waiting Unknown	By : Shmlss Category: M through R > The Phantom of the Opera > Het Views: 2440 -:- 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
- 4
- 5
- 6
A/N: I swear that sex is coming soon! And it will blow your mind! Hehehe! Oh and *cough*, reviews would be nice…. :)
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Chapter 4: Discover Me
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Emilie awoke the next morning, refreshed and oblivious. She had no recollection of the events of the previous night. Just another normal evening spent practising in that exquisite room. One day she wouldn’t have to sneak around to use it, she just knew it.
The young and rather voluptuous girl stretched her arms above her head, yawning. Something scratched the wall as she curled her hand up. She sat up and there, tied to her finger in black ribbon, was a lively deep red rose.
Now who could have done this? She smiled, untying it from her finger and immediately grabbed the water glass on her bedside table.
She seemed to be the last to rise that morning, as her dorm was devoid of anyone at all.
Emilie made her way to the bathroom, filling the glass with water and slipping the rose in before returning it to her table and admiring briefly.
She quickly dressed and rushed downstairs for breakfast before today- the day of the first dress rehearsal for L’Attente Inconnue, and it would last the whole day long, she was sure.
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The day had been long. Erik spent it restlessly watching the rehearsal of the new opera. He began on the balcony, moved to the catwalk, to box 5, and back to the balcony. There was no putting his finger on how he collectively felt about what he had viewed. It was different and dramatic, not only in song, but in plot, and frustrating, intriguing, and many other things. Things that Erik could not even give words to. It confused him, also, that the girl was shoved back so far. She was the best dancer in the troupe, and were they not aware of her voice?
It was like the voice of a nightingale, an angel, the light of one hundred moons. More, though, those things did not give her justice. Indescribable.
The girl who was cast as the lead was certainly a trampy thing, if he had to offer his opinion. She had short, unbecoming blonde hair, small eyes, and a pinchy little face. He supposed that she sang quite well, but in no comparison to Emilie. She was disappointing. That was the perfect word to describe her.
When dusk had settled over Paris, Erik made a second visit to his only confidant. This time he appeared in a cloud of pure white smoke that disintegrated as soon as he appeared through it.
The middle-aged women smiled, looking up from her reading and removing her glasses.
“Good evening, Erik.”
As custom, he bowed his head and kissed her hand. “Madame.”
“Do sit down.”
“I prefer to stand.” He replied, giving her a simple nod.
“Yes, well… I have news from the managers.” She said bitterly to him. “They shall willingly grant your request for box 5 and the scripts will be sent promptly to me. However-“
“They will not grant my salary. I know.” He finished the statement for her. “In return for this…” He paused. His dignity was bare. There should be no bargain, no exchange- but there was now, “In exchange- I want Emilie to be cast as lead in L’Attente Inconnue.”
Her eyes flashed playfully, “Ah- oui! Old habits die hard, then….”
He glared sharp daggers at her, but held his raving tongue. She had nerves of steel, that much was for sure.
She laughed, “I apologise, Monsieur. Anyway- I’m afraid to tell you that Emilie cannot sing…” Jenevieve remembered the girl’s first day at the academié, a frown swallowing her features.
His eyebrows furrowed at the woman. “Then we are not speaking of the same girl. She has auburn hair and-“
“Green eyes, fair skin, freckled, and… blessed. I know her, Monsieur, and she cannot sing.”
Erik’s mind boggled.
“Madame, I ask that you trust me. If you must, audition her to Augustus and Monfrié. I make no mistake. The girl is gold.” He said in a grave and urgent tone.
“But, Monsieur, even if she has a star voice, the show begins in four days! There is no time.” She protested.
“And I assure you, furthermore, that she knows the words to at least the great majority of the Opera, if not all. You would only have to condition her to being centre stage.”
She chewed on the nail of one of her index fingers, considering him for a moment.
“Very well. Also, I sell the boxes here at the opera and I will see to it that you receive your salary…”
This time, a faint smile playing at his lips was unmistakable. Erik bowed his head once more and bid her good evening before disappearing within the blink of an eye.
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An exhausted Emilie walked into her dorm, having skipped on supper this evening. She plopped down on her bed, barely noticing the black ribbon there. She picked the fabric up, running it through her fingers, when the desire to sing overwhelmed her.
Katarina has no stage presence. She’s so bland… Emilie thought as she sneakily made her way to the star dressing room. Soon she would not be able to use it except on Tuesday’s and Wednesday’s, when the Opera was closed. For this, she was sad. But for getting to use it now, she was grateful.
For only twenty minutes, she flitted around the room and sang to her little heart’s desire. When twenty minutes had passed, she found herself standing before the mirror. Suddenly her memory was recovered, last night’s events playing in her head in a matter of only seconds. She looked at the mirror intently and pressed her hand against it as she had done the night before.
Only- this time he was not there. The man shrouded in darkness and disguised by a white mask that seemed to devour her with only his gaze.
“A dream,” She laughed to herself and shook her head, “That’s all it was.”
Emilie stepped back to admire the large piece when something caught her eye. There, between the frame of the mirror and the wall was a distinct crack, and upon looking through it, that was not and end there.
Her pale, delicate fingers slipped through and curled around the frame. She tugged back on it and it slid with ease. Her eyes widened and she looked suspiciously around the room. She pushed the door back a bit more, revealing a long, dank tunnel.
Golden, detailed candelabras of strong arms lined the walls, the candles being the only source of light here. With one more glance back at the room and to the door, she stepped through and began a long trek.
Down, down, down went the tunnel. Emilie neared giving up, when, in the distance new scenery appeared. She made her way to the end, standing before a beautifully crafted cove. The water was a shade of blue-green she had never seen before.
So then it was true- the legend of the Opera Ghost was true! How monumental, she thought it, to have come across this.
There, only a mere ten feet behind her, stood Erik. His body and face were pressed firmly against the stone helplessly as he watched her motionless form. If you didn’t know any better, you’d swear you had seen a tear roll down his cheek.
Too much! This is unacceptable!
Suddenly darkness surrounded her. She thought to scream, but what good would that do? No one would hear her, and there was nothing to be frightened of. It was probably just a strong draft.
Then, in a split second, a gloved hand slipped around her mouth, pulling her backwards.
Erik pulled her to him, allowing her to struggle for a couple of minutes.
Emilie gave up, silently admitting defeat, her body going limp in these strong arms. She felt warm breath on her ear, followed by the faint impression of soft lips.
“Leave now.” His tone was not harsh, but it certainly had control of the situation. He released her, letting her fall before the lights came aflame again.
Emilie looked wildly about the space, finding nothing, no one. Without a second thought to the matter, she got to her feet and started running back through the tunnel. When her legs hurt and her tears had dried only to start again, she kept running. She ran all the way back to the safety of her dorm mates and her bed.
- 4
- 5
- 6
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The Waiting Unknown