Chapter Seven

 

            Weeks passed uneventfully, or at least as uneventfully as possible when one is an acquaintance of the Phantom of the Opera's.  Jenny spent her days in arduous rehearsals, her evenings with Erik for her promised voice lessons, and her nights sleeping in Christine's old dressing room. 

            Now that Christine was being paid a decent salary, she could afford better housing, and had consequently moved into a small flat nearby.  Jenny just found it comforting to be in this particular room; for the other one was dark and packed with excess props and costumes.  Besides, this was the room where Erik had held her and sung to her with his voice of velvet.             

            Most nights, she dreamed of that one blissful encounter... but, as most dreams invariably tend to be what one wants to happen, instead of comforting her with his only voice, he comforted her with his body.  She would feel his gentle hands all over her body, unmindful of the many flaws.  He would kiss her lips until they parted and throbbed for more, until she was breathless with pleasure.  Then he would make sweet love to her, denying his own pleasure until she'd found hers, telling her how much he adored her with every stroke and gaze.

            But it would never be.  And she knew it.  They were only dreams, after all... fantasies that Jenny miserably admitted would never come true.  Damn all men and their infernal insistence on desiring only women who rivaled Aphrodite in beauty!  Would it kill them to look beyond spotted skin and spectacles, just maybe to find a truly intelligent woman?  Of course it would, men wanted pretty ornaments to hang on their arms and every word!  Curse them all!

            Jenny sighed as she made her way up to her dressing room.  Her depression over her bout with unrequited love had stolen her joy of music lately.  Her conduct during rehearsal had been less-than-ideal, her thoughts often drifting quite far way from the Opera House and its grandly mediocre cast.  As usual, she had been contemplating life's inevitable cruelties concerning those with less-than-perfect looks.  Why was it that human beings treated those who were different with contempt and outright hatred?

            "Good evening, Jenny." Erik's voice echoed from behind the wall as she closed the door of the dressing room.  She had long since accustomed herself to his rather interesting habit of jumping out of nowhere and was not unduly alarmed.  His tone mirrored hers with its gloomy, disillusioned timbre and Jenny turned towards the mirror in concern, despite her own melancholy mood.

            "Is something wrong, Erik?" she asked softly.

            "Why would you care if there were?" he countered with a note of bitterness.

            "Oh, I don't know." she narrowed her eyes at his unwarranted hostility.  "Maybe because... I happen to care about you, you stupid lout!"

            With angry bravado, she flounced over to her chair and sat, arms crossed firmly over her breasts and a pout on her lips.  There was a long silence, while she heard Erik enter the room.  She refused to turn towards him, aware that she was acting just as unfairly, but not caring.

            Erik gave a mental sigh.  It wasn't right of him to have taken his recent rejection out on Jenny.  Just because Christine had exposed his face last night and was now terrified of him, he couldn't blame Jenny for it.  With an apology on his lips, he reached for his one friend left in the world, planning on stopping his fingers just short of her shoulder.

            "I'm sorry, Jenny... I'm afraid my temper has once again hurt you." he whispered.

            She turned towards him at last, her green eyes still bearing her pain.  With a small smile, she took his hand in hers, holding firmly when he attempted to pull away.  "Do you want to tell me what's wrong?" she asked again.

            "I don't know if I should.  This is my problem, not yours." he shook his head.

            "Of course you should... I'm your friend, and if you have a problem, then it's my job to help you if I can." she insisted, indicating the chair opposite her.

            He sat with an obedience that immediately made her aware that he was not himself.  The sadness that continually graced his eyes had straightened and grown to overwhelming proportions.  She suddenly knew that whatever he was about to tell her, it was not going to be easy to hear.

            "I'm in love." he said simply.

            "Love?" she repeated the word.  Oh God, no!  Please, no!  Don't do this to me!

            "Yes... however, my love... is not returned at all.  It's... reviled, in all truth.  And I can't say I blame her for that." he managed, his beautiful voice strained, as if he were trying desperately not to cry.

            "You can't be serious!" Jenny exclaimed involuntarily. "What idiot would turn you away?"

            He glanced up at her with an unfathomable expression.  "It's because she's not an idiot that she wants no more to do with me.  Besides... she's in love with someone else... damn that infernal boy!"

            "Might I ask who?" Jenny asked innocently enough.  So I can go knock some sense into her feathered-head!

            "It's Christine... Christine Daae."

            Oh, God... you don't play fair, do you?!  Jenny sat in shock, tears clogging her throat and fogging her mind, but refusing to reach her eyes.  The pain was too much.  Not Christine!  Not her friend!  Anyone but Christine!  Christ, even her beloved Erik only paid attention to the beauty goddesses!  She barely heard Erik's ensuing poetry spiel of Christine's attributes as her eyes suddenly focused on the small bottle of laudanum on her dresser. Erik had given it to her when she'd left his house on the lake, guaranteeing her that it would help her sleep through the night without nightmares.  The sudden impulse to drain the bottle of its contents and just lay down to an eternal sleep was very near irresistible.

            "You've no idea how painful it is to love someone who loves another." Erik's voice permeated her suicidal thoughts, striking her as morbidly amusing in its familiarity.  "It's like someone is ripping open your heart and exposing it to thousands of tiny shards of glass."

            "I can imagine." Jenny replied mildly, gazing intently into her glass of water to hide the sudden threat of tears.  So... she had no idea, hmmm?  Try some constant rejection on for size, mister... then tell me I have no idea!  Quickly, she decided to ignore her escalating despair and concentrate on helping poor Erik... no matter how painful it might be.

            "Listen," she said gently, placing a hand on his sleeve in a gesture of comfort.  "Why do you think Christine would revile your love?"

            He sighed again, deeper, as if the weight of the world were settled on his shoulders.  "Why do you believe I wear a mask, Jenny?"

            She furrowed her brow in confusion.  "Well... I guess because you just don't want to be recognized.  I thought because of the many crimes associated with the Phantom, you wouldn't want to be discovered as being him."

            "Good theories, all partial reasons... but the most basic truth is different." he shook his head.  "You see... I'm... I am hideously deformed under this accursed mask."

            "Deformed?" Jenny repeated.  "As in you were born that way?  Oh, for Heaven's sake... how bad could it possibly be?"

            "Bad." he hissed, pushing her hand away violently when she would have reached up to touch the white leather of the mask.  "Christine saw my face last night... and couldn't even scream, her fear was so great.  I frightened fair-goers for years with this face."

            Jenny shrank back only slightly from his leashed fury, aware that one wrong word could send him into a murderous rage like the one she'd witnessed before.

            "I'm sorry..." she whispered, tears plain in her voice.  "I didn't know..."

            Erik saw the glossiness in her eyes and his temper instantly vanished.  When would he learn?  This child had done nothing to cause him pain in any way, why on earth did he insist on hurting her every which way?

            "Oh, Jenny..." he slipped from his chair to kneel in front of her, clasping her hands between his.  "Forgive me, ma chere.  I didn't mean to frighten you... it seems that no matter what I do... I'm scaring someone."

            "You're not scaring me." she shook her head, freeing one hand from his grasp to gently stroke his unmasked cheek.  She felt him stiffen at the contact, apparently surprised that she had touched him voluntarily.  "It's just... it can't be easy for you."

            "It's not." he allowed with a wry smile at the understatement.  "You mean to tell me that you don't find me abhorrent now that you know?"

            "Of course not!" she exclaimed.  "I don't care what you look like, I... I like you... you're my friend, no matter how ugly you may be."  She had managed to stop her herself before blatantly confessing her love for him.  What awful timing that would've been!

            He smiled at her again, closing his eyes, perhaps cherishing this taste of tenderness.  With slow movements, he bent his head to lay it on her lap.  Her heart nearly bursting with love, she stroked his hair, wishing fervently that he could be happy... even if it meant that she would be miserable.

            "Thank you, mon ange." he whispered.  "You've no idea how much that means to me."

            "Maybe not... but then again, maybe I do." she shrugged, determined to keep her own tender feelings at bay for the time being.

            He sat up with a deep breath, deciding enough had been enough.  "I should leave.  I need to get some air before the performance tonight and you need to prepare for the bal masque, I'm sure.  You did get a costume for the celebration, did you not?"

            "Yes, Christine helped me pick one out.  But I don't really feel much like going… no one pays me much mind." she sighed, knowing that she was going to wind up planting herself next to the refreshment table.

            "You should go, spend some time with Christine and Meg, enjoy yourself a little.  You've been working entirely too hard of late and you need to relax." Erik insisted, not really knowing why he was so anxious for Jennifer to attend.

            "Maybe…" she shrugged unconvincingly.

            "Do I have to give you a direct order, Jennifer?" Erik teased gently.  "Please, go… I'll be there if you need me for anything." What in hell had possessed him to say that?  He had been planning on going incognito to make sure Christine didn't try anything stupid.

            "You're going?  I thought you hated crowds." she asked curiously.

            "I do.  But this is the one night when no one will look at me twice for wearing a mask… I can slip through unnoticed and not be restricted to the shadows." He explained.

            "Well… as you wish, I'll go." she nodded.  "What sort of costume will you be in?"

            He smiled, foolishly pleased with his clever costume.  "Are you familiar with the works of Edgar Allen Poe, Jennifer?"

            "Yes, I happen to love his work." she smiled in response.

            "I shall be one of his stories." he said cryptically before disappearing behind the wall.

            "One of Poe's stories…" she repeated to herself.  "I wonder…"

            A few hours later, Christine knocked on Jennifer's dressing room door and entered, wearing a fantastic princess costume of blue satins and silks.  There were sapphire combs in her shining blonde hair and a matching choker adorning her neck.  The gown was absolutely gorgeous, accenting her tiny waist and her shapely cleavage to the utmost advantage. 

            Erik's eyes are going to roll right out of his head when he sees her, Jenny thought wistfully as she slipped into her own costume.  She had chosen to be an angel, hoping to keep any unwanted attention away from her with anything more conspicuous.  The dress was a simple one of pure white silk with a gold cord cinching her waist.  The bodice was quite a bit more revealing than she was used to, with no sleeves and a diving neckline forming from the thin straps.  The wings that were attached to her form-fitting corset were courtesy of the Opera costume department once again; made of real feathers from a swan and spread out as though she were about to fly away.  Christine insisted on styling Jenny's hair into intricate little braids that twisted and wove around the crown of her head, leaving long tendrils frame her face and to softly curl down her back.  Silvery eye-makeup and shimmery lip-stain completed the heavenly effect, making Jenny's pale skin seem translucent.  Her glasses had been discarded almost entirely, tucked safely away in a small pouch attached to her belt, so that she had them on-hand if she needed them.

            "Splendid!" Christine exclaimed when she was finished, turning Jenny to look in the mirror.  To Jenny's intense surprise, she actually looked… pretty!  Rather than clinging tightly to her figure, the dress draped gracefully and downplayed her weight a bit.  The makeup and hairstyle drew attention to her face and the plunging neckline of the dress was rather flattering.

"Are you certain that's me?" Jenny laughed, happy that Erik had convinced her to attend.  Perhaps this night wouldn't be so awful as she may have thought.

 

 

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