The Night Will Only Know

Of Guns and Ghosts, Of War and Wrath

Antoinette's POV

The third week of rehearsals was underway; the cast, crew, and management walked on eggshells. Constantly glancing over their shoulders checking for a figure in a black cloak lurking about.  Despite being set on edge, the opera crew did what they did best. The costumes and props described by Erik were being prepared as we practiced. The set instructions were written vividly and with a flowing grandeur.  The costumes were elegant, a bit scandalous, however, Don Juan was known as a great lover. The music however, was different. It was harsh and mocking like a twisted melody from years of corrupted abuse. Yet, in it's own way it was beautiful. 

From where I stood in the wings I could see Christine, arms outstretched doing an aria for Don Juan Triumphant. A tune achingly familiar to one I sang to a little boy almost ten years ago, a tune that I knew but couldn't quite place. That is until Christine reached a heart wrenching part,

"Without my passionate fire,

 What am I?

What cold and bitter world do I dwell in?

For without you I am without life, without song, without love." 

She finished the song, stepping back, a slight tremor visible in her hands. Erik had taken the song I had sung him and wrote into it his own agony.  Maestro Lukas tapped his stand,

"Mademoiselle, if you would please go back to that last refrain, you do seem to be quite lost there." His smile soft and kind, Christine nodded childishly, batting her eyelashes. Carlotta scoffed in the background,

"You expect 'dis girl to be as good as me?" Her French stiff, "You play bad music, have bad leads, what did you expect Maestro, a triumph?" Giggling at her own joke, her personal servants forcefully laughed too, in croning fake cackles. Christine acted as if she didn't hear Carlotta's words, only nodded to Maestro Lukas, who scolded Carlotta. Before counting the orchestra in, he motioned to Christine,

"Without my passionate fire,

What am I?"

Rehearsal continued.

________________

"Madame Giry!" Raoul called out to me, I saw him approaching down the hallway towards the entrance of the wing; here, I stood watching the ballerinas preforming a dance called the Dancing Flames.

"Have you seen Christine?" His voice urgent, I shook my head no. He looked around us before leaning in, as he did he withdrew a flint lock pistol. 

"I bought it today, for protection." He brought the pistol up, I pushed his arm down, 

"Are you mad? Put that away!" I nodded to the gun, "Those guns are unreliable and go off randomly sometimes, we don't need anyone getting shot today." Raoul coming to his senses, tucked the gun away.

"I need to find Christine." He said, "She will be glad to know I bought a gun to protect her with."

"Let me go find her, I am sure she is just dressing for the next scene." Raoul nodded, pleased. 

I didn't lie when I had said I hadn't seen anyone else come to call on her, but I knew Erik was there. It was easy to tell by Christine's bloodshot eyes and faint smiles at the shadows who had visited her the previous night. She played it off as stress from the upcoming opera. Raoul coughed and fidgeted,

"Thank you Madame, this phantom character has me on edge. I didn't believe Christine, but now I know she is right. I must protect her, if he where to abduct her, who's to say he wouldn't harm her? Or-or-or violate her! God forbid that!" 

He looked at me, and in his eyes I saw something. Love. Raoul loved Christine. He was scared she would get hurt. He didn't know Christine didn't want him, or love him.  

And that that someone else did want her and love her.

And that someone was weaved from the fabric of night and stitched with the thread of music, and he was not to be tried. 

"We don't know, we can only pray Raoul, we have done everything he has asked. I doubt he would harm her now." Raoul nodded, 

"You are wise, Antoinette. Thank you for...everything." He said, with a quick gentleman's bow he was off, striding down the hallway like a foolish king whose just won his first battle.

"Foolish king," I whisper sadly to myself, "You should know that guns do no good against ghosts. You should know that the war is only just beginning."

___________________

I found myself, wandering the halls, looking for Christine. I passed dark alcoves and shadowed hallways. I almost passed a hallway, but stopped when I heard two hushed whispers. I crept closer, silently as I could.

"-right, Christine. I know you are scared." I recognized Erik's voice, I could picture him, kneeling in front of where Christine sat, taking her hands in his, "It is the only way."

"Erik, no, I won't do that to you." Christine said, her voice defiant and soft at the same time.

"It is your only chance." I listened more, but there was only silence for a moment.

"Listen to me," Erik said, his voice cracking slightly, "You once said that we all wear masks, you have to convince Raoul you love him. That....that you need him, you must wear that mask, do it for me. Because we can never be together, we were never meant to love. You have your Vicomte, a life of beauty and light. All I have is my music.  He can give you the world. " I heard a small sob from Christine.

"Don't make me do this Erik. Please." 

"Christine, you have to marry him. Forget about me. Tell Raoul you plan to unmask me if I show up for the opera. Tell him he will see how ugly I am and how you could never love me. If h-"

"But you aren't ugly!" Christine's voice rose, she cut herself off, her next words whispered harshly, "You aren't ugly and I do love you, mon ange." 

"This is the nail in the coffin, my love, I can leave here without casting suspicion. You can progress with your career. Don't you see Christine, I am poison and I am hurting you; I am an anchor holding you back. You don't need me to fly." 

Christine was silent.

"I cannot bear to live with myself, to see so much love and light in your eyes. Then knowing that if you were with me forever that that very same light and love and hope would turn cold, dark, and dead. Be a precious songbird, fly and spread your music"

"Despite what you say, Erik, this love and light is for you. My love is mine to give, as freely as I please, and to whom I please. And I am choosing to give it to you, no matter what. And because I love you Erik, because I am truly, helplessly, and gravelly in love with you, I will do it. If it is the best for us." 

I could almost sense the heat of their kiss from down the hall, the desperation and sense of drowning that motivated it. I could feel the racing of their hearts, the melody and music that bond them together and ripped them apart. I walked away as silently as I could, knowing from the cold stone of dread that settled in my stomach, that the world we knew was about to change.