Sweet Intoxication {Erik Destler x Reader}

Chapter XV: Pianist Privilege

After thirty minutes or so of the two artists warming up together, musicians and ballet rats started emerging from the entrance. Some lived in the Opera Populaire. Some didn't. "Why is everyone so late?", (Y/N) asked her friend.

"They aren't. We changed the practice time on Tuesday to 10 am."

"Oh. Did I miss anything else?"

"Just Firmin and André having tantrums about the opera ghost."

"Shit. How did they take it?"

"Firmin was furious. André was just fearful. They made sure that everyone who works here keeps the presence of him secret, or else they get fired. Some dancers quit even. They gathered us and made this whole lecture on how no one should mess with him, or with you. Firmin said you were captured, and when you come back up, every one of us should treat you perfectly or the phantom will deal with them himself, for he said that in the letter that announced his return."

"Really? Hu..."

Emile noticed (Y/N) smiling to herself when she heard the last remark. A voice interrupted them both before Emile got to say anything. "Alright everybody shall we go ahead?", George said. Everyone took their position. The conductor was getting his baton when he spoke to who he thinks was the substitute pianist, Louis. "Louis, for today I want you to play the-"; he trailed off when he looked at the piano. "(Y/N)."

"Hi, George." (Y/N) greeted him with a gentle smile. The whole opera house went silent. The ones on stage, the musicians of the orchestra, the ballet dancers, all turned to look at her. Discomfort pitched up on (Y/N)'s face as she felt as if the millions of eyes in the world were fixed upon her. Their gaze moved towards the managers who were just entering the theater, and (Y/N) felt relieved. No one dared to make a sound. Firmin and André stared at each other in disbelief, wondering why everyone is so quiet. When André looked around, he saw her, and nudged Firmin's arm in fear. As (Y/N) caught his sight, her name quickly slipped out of his lips. "Miss (Y/L/N)." She waved her hand. This is going to be a long day. "Come with us at this instant if you may," Firmin said and proceeded with André to his office. During (Y/N) walking towards the owners, "Um, take a break all of you. I'll be back," George uttered, and followed (Y/N) after the managers.

~~~~~

The conductor of the Opera Populaire swung the door of André's office open and slammed it shut. The door unfurled to reveal the sight of André sitting on his desk, Firmin standing beside it, and (Y/N) sitting in front of it, as if going through an interrogation.

"Ah George! We would have appreciated a knock! On the door, I mean, but you may knock some sense into our girl here!", Firmin commented, irritated. The maestro didn't bother to reply to his rude remark, for he was worried about the pianist. Even strict as a conductor, he was soft when his side of a father figure for (Y/N) was triggered. He knelt down to her chair concerned. "(Y/N), are you alright?", he questioned. (Y/N) smiled at his thoughtful gesture. "Yes, I am. I am more than alright."

Like a shot, the door opened once again and jammed closed. Every person in the room turned to see a stern Antoinette Giry. "Good, another one," Firmin mumbled under his breath. "I would like to join whatever matter you're discussing," she mentioned. André chose to reply. "We were just warning our pianist here on what she's dealing with. Having been kidnapped by the phantom is-"

"I WASN'T KIDNAPPED GODDAMMIT!", (Y/N) snapped in their faces as she got up from her chair. "I was with him by consent." She spoke the last sentence sassily. Madame Giry succeeded at hiding her smile at the passionate woman. "Consent? Why? You know what he's capable of," George spoke softly.

(Y/N): I know... but I've known him for a while now. It wasn't just these few days. Besides, I was informed that he told you his return shall be in peace.

Firmin: He did, but he is not to be trusted.

(Y/N): You aren't familiar with him. There's so much more to him than a mask and a box.

Firmin: Absolutely. Murder.

(Y/N): Not anymore. You d-

Madame Giry: I don't understand what you want her to say, Monsieur. We have discussed this matter before. Cooperate with him and all shall go well. Without him, the shows wouldn't sell as much, and the operas wouldn't be as good. If you think about it, he is practically another co-owner of this house.

André: Firmin, he isn't asking of much anyway. No one dares to rent Box 5 anymore, and considering how successful this opera house is getting, his salary is very much affordable. Plus, a dressing room for the mademoiselle isn't too much either.

George and (Y/N): a dressing room?

Firmin: Our lovely ghost demanded a dressing room for Miss (Y/L/N), despite the fact that pianists don't get to have one.

Each person got caught up in his/her thoughts. For a moment, the office was silent. André became uncomfortable with the silence that he decided to speak. "You may go along now. We'll just see where time takes us. Hopefully, no disaster will take place."

Following that, everybody went his/her own way, with (Y/N) exiting last, and Erik smiling triumphantly between the walls, as he heard the entire conversation, after leaving Louis a note. (Y/N) was delayed by Madame Monet. The old lady came up to her and offered, "Miss (Y/L/N), would you like me to guide you to your dressing room? I have work after practice and I don't quite want to be working late." (Y/N) hesitated to agree at first, but went with her either way.

The room was wide and tall. It had a huge make-up mirror, a couch, some souvenirs here and there, closets, and a bed around the corner. The bed was small, but it could fit two people. The room belonged to the same aesthetic (Y/N) adored. As she looked around, her mind drifted back to Erik. He was everything she could ever ask for.

(Y/N) thanked Madame Monet, and made her way to the theater once more, but she was interrupted... again. Before she could take a look at who that was, Peter quickly hugged her very tight and smiled. "(Y/N), I've been worried sick." After she recognized the voice, she hugged him back. "I've missed you too Peter." He let go.

"Are you alright?"

"You don't know how many times I had to answer that question today. Yes, I am. Look, I don't want to keep George waiting. I'll tell you and Emile everything about it; I promise."

Peter didn't seem to like what he heard.

"Speaking about Emile... we're not on good terms."

"What, why not?"

"I'll explain later. There's too much to uncover now. Will you hand this note to her? She won't speak to me. But please (Y/N). Please don't read it."

(Y/N) became suspicious, but planned on promising her friend that she won't read the note.

"Fine. Put it inside at my desk. I got a dressing room now. Who would've thought?"

Peter's puzzled expression didn't get solved as (Y/N) hugged him and went to practice, but he did as he was told.

After Peter went back to practice, Erik became envious. Instead of greeting (Y/N) in her dressing room like he intended to, he got to watch her be affectionate towards another man. Peter pulling her to a hidden corner raised much more suspicion than it was supposed to. The distance between Erik and the two was long; therefore, he could only see them, not hear them.

He decided to go see what's in the note. Making sure no one saw him, he entered and picked it up. It read:

Darling,

I know these few days weren't the best for both of us. I want to make it up to you. Please meet me tomorrow at the opera garden. If you are willing to fix this the same way I want to fix it, fix us, please be there at 8:30 pm.

Your one and only love,

Peter.