The Art of Manipulation || Phantom of the Opera & Loki the God of Mischief ||

12. Who Is It There Staring?

Chapter Twelve || Who Is It There Staring?

~*~

I neither heard nor saw Loki for most of the next day. It made me anxious, not knowing his whereabouts and what he was up to. The last time I stopped keeping track of him, Buquet ended up getting killed. And we don't need another mortal's death on our hands. Odin will have a field day as it is; wherever he is, if he's still living.

Terrified beyond comprehension, the entire opera house began the preparations for their dictator's opera: Don Juan Triumphant. Of course Erik would choose this opera; the opera that is set at the banquet for the leading lady, Amnita, before she runs off to marry her lover. Of course he chose Christine to play Amnita, the sweet and melancholy Amnita, Don Juan's final quest - Erik's final quest. I already knew Erik would come in as Don Juan, to seduce Christine away from Raoul just like Don Juan seduced Amnita the night before her wedding.

Without the help of my assistant music director, I wearily plowed through the third hour of today's rehearsals. No one blamed our Amita for not showing up; not after learning who her teacher supposedly was. Although, Raoul hasn't been too pleased with his fiancé's sudden absence, remembering that the last time she went missing, she had been with him, his rival. I don't know where Christine is, but I do know she isn't with Erik now, or even in the opera house. And as for Erik, he's been busy making his own preparations for his opera. Yet another thing that wasn't part of my knowledge and added to the already stressful day.

"Madame de La Hye, someone is singing off key!" The shout of our Passarino pulled me from my thoughts. Jean looked accusingly Piangi, who sat with his sheet music in hand, looking oblivious.

Everyone was on edge, the tension so tight you could bounce a coin off of it. A few of the others also spoke their complaints and I shushed them with a wave of my hand, "Yes, yes. Piangi, would you mind singing that last part again, please?"

"But, Signora de La Hye, I am not singing it off-key-"

"Please, Piangi, once more s'il vous plaît (if you please)." I ran my hand over my face and shifted in my uncomfortable wooden chair.

He let out a heavy sigh and waited for the pianist to begin playing. His accompaniment beginning, he sang, "Passarino, faithful friend! Once again recite the plan." We all groaned at the last note that was at least two bars lower than it should have been.

Closing my eyes and shaking my head I said, "No, no, no, Piangi. It's," I signaled the pianist to play again and sang it myself, making sure to keep the power of my voice ordinary to prevent a repeat of yesterday's carelessness that summoned Erik, "Passarino, faithful friend! Once again recite the," I paused, then emphasized the last note, "plan. Plan. Up. Higher. Plan. You try."

Piangi straightened again, "Once again recite the...plan."

I used both hands to cover my face this time, feeling at a loss with the tone deaf opera singer. I have no energy to be enhancing his voice all the time.

The crowd of actors began arguing again, their tension and anxiety boiling over. I didn't bother stopping them, it wouldn't have done any good.

One voice raised above the crowd, smothering the other bickering, "Why do we have to do this opera, huh?" Camillé placed her hand on her cocked hip and eyed everyone, "The composer isn't even here to help us put it together!"