Adult-FanFiction.org : Movies

Phoenix	By : LadyMeda Category: M through R > Phantom of the Opera Views: 4486 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Phantom of the Opera or any variation thereof. I do not make any money from this fiction. Tags include things that will be in future chapters.

Chapter List
- 9
- 10
- 11
Erik stepped back to admire his handiwork in one of his full-length mirrors. The sight that met his eyes was a completely different man. He was quite pleased with how splendidly the new gold-leafed mask hid any imperfections in the false beard and mustache. The mask was comprised of perfect miniature replicas of the the carvings that adorned the ceiling of the theatre. Tiny female forms draped playfully around his eyes and the line of his dark beard.
He wore a matching black wig that bore a hint of silver at the temples. It added just the right touch of wisdom to the man in the mirror. A thin layer of padding broadened his shoulders to offset the thicker layer that bulged over his belt through the red velvet waistcoat. And finally to tie it all together, a cape thrown over one shoulder. It too was made of red velvet and looked exactly like the drapery of the theatre curtain, complete with gold fringe and tassels.
Tonight, the Phantom WAS the opera house.
After one final inspection, Erik dashed off to the Manager's office. He pushed aside the painting and stepped in to find the Persian waiting for him.
“How do I look?” Erik asked in a strong, well practiced baritone, mimicking the Persian's accent.
The manger gaped at him. “My god, man. Is that really you?” He circled around to get a better look. “You have outdone yourself! You look like a pompous, self-absorbed royal. I LOVE IT!”
“So not entirely different than usual.” The Phantom mused. “Well if everything is in order, then let us be off.”
As they strode towards the main hall Erik held his head high, straightening up to let his new belly lead the way. They opened a set of double doors, and were immediately immersed in a chorus of song and dance. A flurry of excited whispers followed the pair as the walked through the room.
“Just remember...” The Persian advised quietly. “No matter what you do or say; apologize for nothing.”
The Phantom let out a barreling laugh, causing several people around them to startle and setting off a fresh wave of whispers. “When have I ever?”
The Persian took that as his queue to begin making introductions. Erik did his best at small talk as he was showcased to wealthy patrons and supporters. All the while his eyes scanned the room for the one thing he cared about. It felt like an eternity before the object of his longing appeared, dressed in an elegant but simple baby blue gown. Erik wandered towards the railing of the stairs to get a better look, leaving a group of supporters to exchange disgruntled glances at his sudden departure. He hardly noticed.
Meg looked humble and yet captivating as she moved from group to group. It made him smile to see her wearing a plain white mask; the soft golden ringlets of her hair framed it perfectly. His grin faded as a dashing young figure took her arm. It was only moments before the little fop spotted Erik in the crowd, and was soon pulling Meg up to meet him.
“Have I heard correctly that you are the owner of this establishment?” The whelp asked as he stepped forward, leaving Meg abandoned in his shadow.
“And you are?” Erik all but growled.
“Martine Beaudet of Beaudet Banking. It is a pleasure to meet our largest client.”
“And who is the ravishing beauty you have left in your wake?” Erik asked. Meg began to blush as the sniveling little banker fumbled over his words. To Erik's surprise, someone else interjected before either of them had a chance to speak.
“I see you have found the graceful Miss Giry!” The man spoke.
Erik scarcely had time to turn around before the Persian had scampered to his side to begin introductions. “Ah, Monsieur Lazard! Please meet Sattar Soroush, the sole proprietor of the Paris Opera. Monsieur Soroush, this is Denis Lazard.... the art critic.”
“Welcome to our humble opera house.” Erik said with a slight bow.
“Humble indeed!” Replied the critic. “What a marvelous design. The acoustics are phenomenal, while the ambiance leaves nothing to be desired. And such a splendid gala!”
“I hope you enjoyed the performance equally.” Baited Erik.
“Ah yes, the performance.” Sighed the critic. “The singing was wonderful, and as expected, your ballet is unmatched. But on that note, there is one thing I feel must be remedied. You may as well hear it from me now, rather than in tomorrow's paper.” Denis gestured to Meg. “Miss Giry here, a mere chorus girl, stole the second act. She has a certain... je ne sais quoi that I can not put my finger on.”
“Is that so?” Erik excaimed, blessing his good fortune. He could not have planned the conversation better if he'd tried. “Do we have a rising star in our midst?”
“Who could expect any less from the daughter of the famous Antoinette Giry?” The critic enthused, causing Meg's blush to deepen. Martine glanced uncomfortably around the conversation as the two men ignored him. Erik would have happily continued to do so, but as the little whelp tangled a posessive arm in one of Meg's, his blood boiled.
“You seem quite out of place, young Marius. These are matters of heart, not finance. You may take your leave.”
“Martine.” He corrected. “My name is Martine--”
“Yes yes. Very interesting, Marius.” The Phantom dismissed, taking personal pleasure in the banker's crestfallen expression. “Now please leave us. We have matters to discuss that I am certain you know little about.”
Martine began to slink away, dragging Meg along; but Erik seized her other arm and pulled her back. The two men glared at each other for several intense seconds. Then Martine begrudgingly withdrew and stormed off through the crowd.
The critic was unphased, and continued to sing her praises. “We can be sure to see great things from her. I mean no disrespect, but you would be an imbecil not to showcase her as the lead. Your audience demands her!”
“Is that so?” The Phantom mused. “An imbecil, you say?” He turned to the Persian with the tiniest smirk creeping across his lips. “Why has this not been remedied? As my manager, I expect you to do what is best for business!”
“My deepest apologies. It had not been brought to my attention.” The Persian bowed in mock apology. “Should I make an announcement of her promotion tonight?”
“NO!” Shouted Meg, taking them all by surprise. It was the first time she had spoken since the conversation began. “Please... I thank you all for such wonderful compliments. I deserve no such attention. But if that is an announcement you must make, I would prefer be made without spectacle.”
Erik could't help himself. “Such humility from an extroardinary talent!” He extended an arm to her. “Might I have the honor of a dance with the blushing star?”
She hesitated, glancing at both the Persain and the critic before accepting it. Without hesitation, Erik whisked her away to the dance floor. Tucking a hand around her waist, he spoke quietly in her ear. “You must be my retreat for a time. I do not want people getting too friendly.”
“Monsieur?” She asked, looking rather uncomfortable as they began to waltz. “I do not understand.”
He chuckled, dropping his eastern accent. “Have you so quickly forgotten your Maestro?”
Meg's waltz faltered. “Erik?” She cast a nervous glance around the room before meeting his eyes. “Are you mad? You'll be caught!”
“A risk I am willing to take.” He whispered with a smile. “Did you think I would miss your special day?”
“This is a dangerous game to play just to get what you want!” Meg hissed. “What if the real owner had come?”
The notion of telling her that he was the new owner crossed his mind; but now hardly seemed the time for such a conversation. “I have my tricks.” Erik dodged.
“You'd better. I would never forgive myself if something happened to you on my account.” The two continued to dance around the room before she quietly asked. “Did you have to be so cruel to Martine? He really is a nice man.”
“You know my nature as well as anyone.” The Phantom said as he turned her around. Pulling her back into him, their masks almost touched as he cooed in her ear. “The way he tried to take you from me, its lucky I didn't kill him. A wolf is still a wolf after all; even in fancy dress.” With a great flourish, Erik spun her away. Meg twirled around gracefully despite the obvious worry that showed from behind her mask.
He moved forward to collect her. but just as he was about to reach out for her tiny hand, the ever-persistent Martine swooped in and took Erik's place. He looked over his shoulder with a triumphant sneer, stealing her through the crowd and far out of Erik's reach.
- 9
- 10
- 11
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Phoenix