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The Waiting Unknown	By : Shmlss Category: M through R > The Phantom of the Opera > Het Views: 2438 -:- 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
- 5
- 6
- 7
A/N: It has come to my attention by way of a reader (thank you, Onitsu Blackfeather) that I seemed to have skipped in posting a chapter to my story, so here it is. It had been a while since I updated, so, there’s your excuse. As for how the HTML turns out, I can only say that that is precisely how the server formats my chapters when I post, so, in due time, I will go through and fix all of this. Tonight: I am lazy. And probably will be lazy for the weekend. :) Enjoy.
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Chapter 5: The Manager’s Daughter
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She put on a good show for the other girls, but when the lights went out Emilie laid there, eyes wide open, thinking of what had happened in the last 24 hours.
There is just no way he could still be alive. Why me? I want some damned answers! Can he see me now? Is he going to kill people like the rumours have told that he does?

Those were only some of the thoughts and questions running through her mind. Answers are what she sought the most. To all of her burning questions. To how this could possibly be.
Her very last thought, though, was one of hope. Maybe she would wake up tomorrow and this will have all been a dream.
-
Just exactly what was she doing here?
Erik was mostly frustrated with himself for his carelessness, but consciously found any reason and excuse to blame her.
Times really have changed. Curiosity will get the best of her someday. Her encounters will not be so nice as they are with me. Twit!
His mind wandered from her a bit as he sat angrily playing his organ. It was time for him to take action. It would not do to go about making requests and threats without a sure follow-up, but murder seemed to be a different story now. If he resorted to it, he would lose the respect of Madame Giry and it was too much risk. He had been “out of the loop,” so to speak, and it was not worth finding out how much had changed and what could be done to counter his acts. It seemed too serious anymore, to take a life, and to be very honest, he wasn’t interested in it anymore, either.
For hours he sat playing long and hard. Playing songs that had never been written and no one, including himself, knew.
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If it weren’t enough, all that she had gone through last night, she was bombarded from the moment she woke, which was only due to Madame Giry’s persistence in shaking her.
“Emilie, you must come with me.” Her voice was hushed, but her tone was urgent.
Emilie complied, getting to her feet and following her teacher down this hall and that. Jenevieve handed her a tall glass of water.
“Drink this, please.”
Emilie didn’t ask questions. She’d known better than to do so most of the time.
They walked for a while, in silence and urgency until they finally reached their destination.
Madame Giry knocked firmly on the cherry red door.
“Come in!”
“Monsieur Augustus. I ask that you audition this girl to replace Katarina at once.”
Emilie’s eyes widened to the size of large coins.
“Madame… we cannot just pull our star in the middle of rehearsals and replace her with someone else on a whim! And furthermore-“
“Sing, girl.” She interrupted, looking pointedly at Emilie.
“I- wh- I… Madame, you know as well as I do that I am unfit to sing the production, let alone the lead.” She replied nervously.
“Sing.” It was almost a plea in desperation.
Emilie closed her eyes tight and inhaled deeply before beginning the first verse of L’Attente Inconnue.
Jenevieve nearly fainted from surprise. Augustus was stunned, himself.
He held a withering, liver-spotted hand up to stop her.
“Tell Miss Pfrommer that she will be pulling out of the lead. And you…” He shook a wrinkled finger at Emilie, “Do make sure you perform as well, and pray every night that you bring in as much revenue as I expect you will. Remember that you are untrained and you are here by graces we’ll not mention to begin with.” He was not trying to be mean, that was just his nature, generally. Especially to those younger than 30.
Emilie was confused, but given no time to think of anything at all. She was ushered hastily out of the office and bombarded with exclamations of this and that and-
“Costumes! We didn’t think of that! And there’s so much to do…”
“Madame!” Emilie shouted, stopping and grabbing the other woman’s arms, “Why- how did this happen? I did not think anyone knew of…” She paused and looked at the woman who had raised her for the past 4 years.
“Oh.” She sighed.
“Yes, well… it is a personal favour. Come, girl, we simply do not have time for this now.”
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Four days of endless conditioning and rehearsing was accounted for. The only one who could find a way to be angry with Emilie was, of course, Katarina. The girl threw a temper tantrum and threatened all sorts of horrible things like burning down the Opera and cutting herself or having her daddy sue for all the place was worth or having it knocked down.
These, of course, were not pretty words for Erik to hear. He already spited the awkward German girl, but she was crossing the line. This matter would have to be taken care of promptly.
Erik had, though, kept himself rather scarce around the Opera until show day. He did not want to see her until the performance. He was completely unaware the affect he’d had upon her disposition.
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The time was now. She had been overwhelmed on this day. Moreso than the past four and no one around her helped the situation, except for Gabrielle, who always seemed have an anecdote to brighten the day.
Emilie took in an immensely deep breath and, smoothed her perfectly ragged and dirty skirt over before walking out onstage and bursting into song.
Erik stood in box 5, watching silently. He couldn’t have been more pleased by the entire production, but Emilie was nearly as stunning as Christine had been on her debut night. He cut out a bit early to deliver a second rose, this time to her room, before retiring in his lair.
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How overwhelming! Congratulations and brava!’s swallowed Emilie whole. She was escorted, then, to the star dressing room where an abundance of flowers awaited her.
“I must admit, you blew them away, Emilie.” Augustus said.
“Yes. You did quite well.” Monfrié nodded politely, smiling down at her as she sat at the vanity.
Emilie, a bit taken aback, returned the smile.
“Just don’t let it get to your head!” He snapped quickly and stormed out of the room.
Augustus shot her a sympathetic glance before bidding her a good night’s sleep and left.
Emilie turned in her chair and looked in the mirror.
“This is mine… this is all for me.” She smiled pleasantly and looked down, spotting, on the corner of the vanity, a vibrant red rose and a black ribbon tied neatly around the stem. She glanced around the room and then pointedly at the large mirror before picking it up. She had almost forgotten completely about him, what with everything that had been going on. Despite having three two more nights of performances ahead of her, she decided that tonight would be a long one and rose from her chair.
She reached the end of the tunnel and considered forfeit again. She’d had no time to change from her costume, and she certainly couldn’t get it wet in the water before tomorrow night, or the next, for that matter. She pondered for a moment before grabbing the bottom of her gown and pulling the back over her shoulders, her bloomers in plain view now. She rolled the front up, and held it up with her hands.
She could have only been wading in the water, looking around curiously, for a matter of five minutes before a strong arm scooped her up in one swift movement and placed her gently down inside of a gondola.
The entire ten minutes to his “home” were spent in silence. Not once did he look back at her or give her any kind of acknowledgement whatsoever.
When they reached shore, he took a giant leap from the gondola and held his hand out for her.
Emilie wearily stood up in it and grabbed his hand, having more fear of falling in than of him.
He lifted her easily out of it and onto the shore, bringing her in closer proximity than he had originally intended.
He made her feel sleepy, or peaceful or something there. Her eyelids fluttered shut and her body seemed to move forward though her feet were firmly planted. Her balance was lost to her and she caught it, her eyes opening. He was now sitting at a very large and beautiful organ shuffling through aged parchment paper.
Emilie stepped up onto the stone just below him and looked around briefly.
“Thankyou, Monsieur. For… what you have done for me.”
Her voice shook and it made Erik cringe a little. He realised he had given her a reason to fear him, but it still was not a sight, sound, or smell that one could easily get accustomed to. Especially one who craved so much for someone to love him. He turned in the seat to look at her with his hands on his knees.
“Monsieur?”
“What should I call you if not that, then?” She gave him a thorough once-over before devoting her attention to his eyes. Dull grey-green as they may have been, there was a quality about them that was… enchanting, really.
“My… my name is Erik.” He replied, choking on his own words a bit.
“You have a real first name…” She sounded surprised. “I mean, not that you shouldn’t, of course, but… one thinks of a…..” She paused to gauge his possible reaction, “Phantom as something with no face and no name.”
Erik only grunted in reply.
“And what of your surname?”
He looked back up at her curious eyes.
“I don’t have one.”
She nodded.
“Well, you probably know this, but-“ she walked slowly over to him, extending her hand and smiling beautifully at him, “My name is Emilie Monfrié.”
- 5
- 6
- 7
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The Waiting Unknown