themselves.
“I go to him, I have no will of my own. He touches me, I succumb as I’ve always known. He’ll break my heart, this much is clear. How can I stop? I need him near.”
I heard a loud sigh as I sang and wondered if I’d missed a note. I continued. “He’s a rogue and a thief. Vermin from the depths of the underground. Set me free, before insanity brings me down. He’ll destroy my…”
“That’s enough,” Eric shouted. “Stop it.” He slammed his fist into the keys, creating a chaotic din.
I froze and the next note caught in my throat, ready to come out but choked by his command. Was I that horrible? Had my voice come to be affected by the strain of the past few days? By the cold of winter? “I’m sorry. I know those last few notes were a bit off, but they’re even higher than I’d really realized.”
“It has nothing to do with your voice. You’ve hit the notes with perfection and the emotion in your voice is as it should be. It is the words that accompany the notes that are so revolting. Talk of demons and vermin. This opera depicts me as a villain, a monster.”
“Eric, surely it’s a dramatization of Kristine’s experiences. You know how operas are. There has to be drama and conflict.”
“At my expense?”
I leaned against the piano and gazed down at his fingers. Fisted over the keys, the last notes he’d pounded still reverberated. “You shouldn’t take it personally, Eric. Everyone at the Opera House is excited and thrilled with this opera and, believe it or not, despite these harsh words, most are enamored with this phantom.”
“And no doubt they believe the heroine to be as pure as the driven snow.” He glared up at me. “Aaron is trying to pass this off as being based on face, when it is all based on lies and fabrications… the rantings of a wild and vengeful woman. These words paint her as a saint, as a woman with purely altruistic goals.” His eyes took on a sardonic gleam as he cocked his head to the side. “Are you defending him and his actions?”
I saw the pain in his eyes, the fear of betrayal. If I took Aaron’s side in this, it would be the ultimate slap in the face for him. “No,” I said with a shake of my head. “Eric, I hadn’t really taken the time to dissect all the lyrics to these songs. I got taken in by the beautifully pain-filled melodies and was swept up by the story as a whole.”
His fingers ran along the scar on his cheek and I saw the heartbroken young boy who’d had far too much pain for far too long. Was I now adding to that pain and heartache?
“I can talk to Aaron tomorrow,” I finally said.
“To what end? Is Aaron so madly in love with you that he’d change Rupert’s words to suit you?” He chuckled, a sound completely bereft of amusement or joy. “The depiction is precisely as he would have it, precisely as biased as if he’d written it himself.”
“Then what do you want me to do?” I reached for the hand that still worked over his scars. “I hate to see you like this, Eric. I don’t want this show to bring you more pain.” I sat beside him on the piano bench and he stared long and hard at the piano keys before bringing his gaze to me.
“After all these years, I thought I’d rid myself of the pain of those days with Kristine. Until you came here tonight and sang those lyrics that sting… I hadn’t realized how affected I still was.”
“I’ll talk to Aaron,” I said with forceful determination. My heart was breaking for Eric and I couldn’t just sit by and watch him be destroyed just for the sake of entertaining the masses. “I’ll tell him that I’ll quit the show if he doesn’t make some changes. Or better yet, when the time comes to take the stage, I’ll replace the unfavorable lyrics. We can work together and alter the passages that disturb you, that criticize you.”
Placing his hand over mine, he gazed hungrily at
“I go to him, I have no will of my own. He touches me, I succumb as I’ve always known. He’ll break my heart, this much is clear. How can I stop? I need him near.”
I heard a loud sigh as I sang and wondered if I’d missed a note. I continued. “He’s a rogue and a thief. Vermin from the depths of the underground. Set me free, before insanity brings me down. He’ll destroy my…”
“That’s enough,” Eric shouted. “Stop it.” He slammed his fist into the keys, creating a chaotic din.
I froze and the next note caught in my throat, ready to come out but choked by his command. Was I that horrible? Had my voice come to be affected by the strain of the past few days? By the cold of winter? “I’m sorry. I know those last few notes were a bit off, but they’re even higher than I’d really realized.”
“It has nothing to do with your voice. You’ve hit the notes with perfection and the emotion in your voice is as it should be. It is the words that accompany the notes that are so revolting. Talk of demons and vermin. This opera depicts me as a villain, a monster.”
“Eric, surely it’s a dramatization of Kristine’s experiences. You know how operas are. There has to be drama and conflict.”
“At my expense?”
I leaned against the piano and gazed down at his fingers. Fisted over the keys, the last notes he’d pounded still reverberated. “You shouldn’t take it personally, Eric. Everyone at the Opera House is excited and thrilled with this opera and, believe it or not, despite these harsh words, most are enamored with this phantom.”
“And no doubt they believe the heroine to be as pure as the driven snow.” He glared up at me. “Aaron is trying to pass this off as being based on face, when it is all based on lies and fabrications… the rantings of a wild and vengeful woman. These words paint her as a saint, as a woman with purely altruistic goals.” His eyes took on a sardonic gleam as he cocked his head to the side. “Are you defending him and his actions?”
I saw the pain in his eyes, the fear of betrayal. If I took Aaron’s side in this, it would be the ultimate slap in the face for him. “No,” I said with a shake of my head. “Eric, I hadn’t really taken the time to dissect all the lyrics to these songs. I got taken in by the beautifully pain-filled melodies and was swept up by the story as a whole.”
His fingers ran along the scar on his cheek and I saw the heartbroken young boy who’d had far too much pain for far too long. Was I now adding to that pain and heartache?
“I can talk to Aaron tomorrow,” I finally said.
“To what end? Is Aaron so madly in love with you that he’d change Rupert’s words to suit you?” He chuckled, a sound completely bereft of amusement or joy. “The depiction is precisely as he would have it, precisely as biased as if he’d written it himself.”
“Then what do you want me to do?” I reached for the hand that still worked over his scars. “I hate to see you like this, Eric. I don’t want this show to bring you more pain.” I sat beside him on the piano bench and he stared long and hard at the piano keys before bringing his gaze to me.
“After all these years, I thought I’d rid myself of the pain of those days with Kristine. Until you came here tonight and sang those lyrics that sting… I hadn’t realized how affected I still was.”
“I’ll talk to Aaron,” I said with forceful determination. My heart was breaking for Eric and I couldn’t just sit by and watch him be destroyed just for the sake of entertaining the masses. “I’ll tell him that I’ll quit the show if he doesn’t make some changes. Or better yet, when the time comes to take the stage, I’ll replace the unfavorable lyrics. We can work together and alter the passages that disturb you, that criticize you.”
Placing his hand over mine, he gazed hungrily at
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