The Night Will Only Know

Those Cruel and Mocking Masks

Antoinette's POV

I looked over the sea of dancers, their steps swirling them like the waves as they rose and fell like the tide. The waltzed around the floor of the lobby with it's towering pillars and polished marble floors, which tonight served as the Opera House's grand ballroom. I stood on the first landing of the stairwell, the small orchestra used for balls at the Opera House was another flight up on the largest landing.

 I lightly fanned myself, watching Monsieur Firmín dancing with a woman too young to be his wife. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a tight bun showing off her angular face. I didn't know who she was, her face was masked by a pink and black butterfly mask that accompanied her pink, low cut, scandalous dress. 

Monsieur André sat comfortably in the corner, out of the spotlight, out of mind. He chatted quietly with his sister who was visiting him from India. His wife had found Monsieur Firmín's wife and they all sat together at André's table.  The music ended as the Maestro let the orchestra break. He brushed past me, giving me a small smile,

"It is a good night is it not?" I allowed myself to smile back,

"Of course it is, Lukas ." I looked down with him over the crowd, he let out a small tired sigh. Maestro Lukas Moreau had been at the Opera House for 37 years, being a faithful employee to the many managers of the Opera House. He had been a rock, a steady boulder in the ever changing world. He had been the father figure in my life, both my parents had been taken with a nasty disease after being bitten by rats.

"How is Majori?" Maestro Lukas was the only person whom called my daughter by her given name, everyone else called her by her nickname, Meg. He looked at me, his brown eyes reading me from under his black and gold music-themed mask.

"She is good. She is the girl in the rabbit costume." I pointed to my daughter, a slender fair haired girl who gossiped with a few other ballerinas.

"She looks like her father." I nodded, a stone of sorrow lodging itself in my throat. Lukas gently patted my back, I saw him squint. He gestured to the door,

"Who is that?" I felt a bit of tenderness enter my heart, and choked down the cold stone of sadness.

"Christine Daae." My tone soft and caring. She wore a gown of deep blue, like the blue of the depths of the sea. Her brown hair swept back off her face in loose curls, pinned with sliver clips. A delicate silver mask lined with small sapphires sat upon her face like a second skin. Meg saw her and set off a furious wave, she reached Christine and pulled her into her group of friends.

"She is very beautiful." Maestro Lukas said, "I hear the Vicomte asked for her hand." I scoff,

"I had hoped you had not listened to the silly rumors of ballerinas, Lukas." A growing panic taking hold inside, did Erik know?

Lukas shrugged, his old bones popping. He clapped his hands, the orchestra members assembling back on the grand lobby stair case.

"Always remember your own humble beginnings Antoinette, you were once a ballerina as well. We cannot be wise without, at first, being foolish. They are young, let them be young, let them gossip, it is what they do best." 

I looked back to Christine, she laughed at a comment from Meg. That's when I saw Raoul approach the group, his mouth moved but his words were lost to me. His face was falsely cheerful as he lead Christine away to an abandoned hallway, his face turning stern as he left the watchful eye of the crowd. I began a rushed descent to the madness of the crowd. I worked quickly through the sea of dancers, pushing them aside with rushed words of apologies. I reached the hallway to hear shouts of anger. Picking up my skirts I hurried down the hallway.