The Night Will Only Know

There Is No Brilliance Without Madness

Erik's POV

I recall, a time before I fell in love, when I had been haunted. Yes, an opera ghost, a phantom haunted. I was deeply troubled by the demons of my past. I was bound and chained to the years of abuse I suffered. The scars I carried affected how I saw the world, I was young and stupid, and quick to begin a descent into madness. However, I was saved from this fate, by a good man.

I had came into the acquaintance of a man by the name of Lukas, the very same Lukas who was our Maestro. It was early in my time at the opera house, less than a year, I was still a thin boy. A walking skeleton really, with skin stretched tightly over my ribs. Maestro Lukas had came into the practice room late one night; he had the step of a mouse, so I had not heard him approach. He caught me, sorting through music, papers scattered about where I sat on the floor. He shut the door behind him with a quiet click, before approaching me cautiously, eyeing me with his wise brown eyes. He said nothing, but he took off his coat and draped it over a chair. He sat down slowly across from me, his old bones popping. He pulled an apple from his pocket, and held it out for me.

I watched him closely, before eyeing the apple eagerly. It's red skin flickering in the firelight, after a moment he said,

"Go on boy, it's alright." His voice was soothing like a lullaby. It was all the encouragement I needed, I quickly plucked the fruit from his hand and relished a crisp bite.

"What is your name boy?" He asked, "And what in the Devil are you doing in here?" I swallowed another big bite of apple, 

"I-I-I'm a-a street boy, Monsieur, I came in through the window." I pointed over my shoulder to the open window behind me. The real reason why it was open was because I loved the sound of Paris at night; the chirp of an occasional cricket, the sound of the Seine a few blocks away, everything was beautiful. I coughed,

"My name is...Wilhelm, and I love music Monsieur, it's just I have never had the opportunity present itself to show my talents." Maestro Lukas arched up an eyebrow,

"I see." He said, frowning as he looked at the papers scattered about, "And what are you doing here?" He gestured, I hurriedly munched down a few more bites of apple.

"I am sorting them Monsieur, you see they are usually sorted by title. However, music should be sorted by composer, then title, so you have a more accurate catalog and system of finding your music." Maestro Lukas nodded, a faint smile on his lips,

"Play me something." He said, gently pushing himself off the floor. I paused in mid bite,

"Wh-what?" I asked nervously licking my lips, suddenly not hungry anymore.

"You said you had talents, show me them, if you would please." He gestured to the fine wood piano with a single, thin finger; easing himself into an armchair in the corner. I turned my attention back towards the piano.

 It was the piano I had dreamed of, the piano I had longed to play for almost a year. I stood slowly, I grabbed a piece at random from the pile at my feet, trying to calm myself. My hands shook and my breathing came in shallow gasps as I sat down; it was here I learned something about myself. I had stage fright, a by-product of my past. Conjured by the demons that haunted me, drove me mad everyday with their mocking echoes. 

Maestro Lukas never took his eyes off of me,

"You are scared." It wasn't a question, it was a fact. I nodded, tremors creeping through me.

"Why are you afraid, Wilhelm?" He asked, his eyes absorbing me. I shuddered,

"I am afraid that I won't be good enough, I am afraid of messing up. I am a-....afraid of being put on display." The maestro sat still for a moment, it was quiet enough to here the breathing of the sleeping ballerinas. I turned to face him from where I sat.

He learned forward, a twinkle in his eye,

"Why are you afraid?" He repeated his question, he stood slowly like a tortoise. 

"You will never be able to show others you are amazing, until you can show yourself." He started for the door,

I looked at the music before me, my fingers struck the first chord. Then softly, a soft twinkling melody began to form. This was a piece I had never heard, and it was beautiful. It grew and intensified, and I loved it. 

The song swelled, and slowed to a somber tone. When I finished, my hands were trembling but not from my fright, but something else entirely. Confidence and freedom. Maestro Lukas without knowing it had set me free from the demons that kept me trapped. He had also, unknown to the both of us, gave me the strength that I needed now. 

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Antoinette's POV

I shoved open the door to the managers' office, I stood panting looking at their shocked faces, Raoul was with them, he looked up from a document he was reading.

"Madame, come in, si-"

"Cancel the show." I said, breathless. André took his glasses off slowly, his gaze wandering to Firmín.

"Madame Giry, we cannot simply stop a sh-" 

"I don't care." I said, "You must stop the show." Raoul stood, his face serious. He walked to where I stood and gripped my forearms. 

"What is it?" I searched his eyes, a small cough interrupted me. My heart sunk, Christine stood, a faint smile,

"My...love." Her voice soft, "I have an idea." Raoul eyed her, his smile tender and warm.

"Yes dear?" Christine fidgeted with Raoul's ring on her finger. Her face strangely becoming blank,

"During Don Juan Triumphant, he will be there, I just know it. However, I will unmask him if I can." Raoul's eyes lit up in an odd way. I felt the color drain from my face, I tried to keep a neutral look.

"Darling, you are smart." He stroked her hair softly, Firmín's loud voice boomed in the small space, 

"Excellent idea, Ms. Daae! Why we can have the police called so if he is seen, he can be shot!"

"No more Opera Ghost to torment us." André added, his eyes fixed upon Christine as if he were weighing her words. Raoul nodded, his face bright with pride. Christine smiled, a bit too brightly. Her eyes locked on to mine, in them, all I could see was regret, sorrow, and guilt. Her face drained of color, not even Erik could survive a cold, lead bullet.

"Now if you excuse me, I wish to go to the cemetery, I think praying shall do me good." Raoul shimmed around me to get his coat,

"I will go with you my dear."

"No, Raoul," She said quietly, "I think is a trip I must make alone. Let me do this, please?" Raoul looked at her, he nodded once.

"Of course, my dear." Raoul wanted to go with her, he was overprotective because of the Opera Ghost. She smiled,

"That is all, we can discuss a more thorough plan of action tomorrow, I hope?" The managers eagerly nodded, she curtsied to them. 

"Au Revoir." I watched her go, unable to express to the others there that two hearts were about to be broken, to the point of no return.

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A/N:

As with any book, an author always fears that they will make a character too perfect. Because in reality, no one is perfect. So unfortunately I must add a fault to our beloved O.G, stage fright. Plus this will tie in later in the story, with why he became a composer and a twist with Point of No Return. 

Again dedicated to my friend, CapMerica. I am excited for our big weekend plans!! Now in the words of Ms. Daae,

Au Revoir

-x_x786