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
- 4
- 5
- 6
Thank you Feather Touch for the first review and encouragement. It is very appreciated.
I hit a roadblock with too many ideas trying to fit into too small of a space and needed a bit of time to see which ones stuck in my mind.

* * * * *
Meg walked lazily behind the divider that separated the changing area and began to undress. She was purposefully taking her time changing out of costume; waiting for the last stragglers to leave so that she could meet the Phantom for their evening lesson. A few of the girls were still giggling nearby when familiar hands encapsulated her bare shoulders. Even such a simple touch from him made her pulse begin to race. She wanted so badly to lay her head back onto his chest.
“Did I catch you at a bad time?” He whispered. It took a moment until she realized with wide eyed mortification that she had already removed her chemise. Her hands flew up to cover herself, but were seized and pulled gruffly back to her sides.
“What are you doing?!” She panted as he yanked up the hem of her skirt, fingers scouring up her thigh.
“Open your eyes, Meg. Are you really so blind to my desire?” Breath hot in her ear, his tongue snaked lewdly across her earlobe. She ought to be disgusted, but it only aroused her further. He spun her around, pulling her into him by the waist. She gasped as his manhood, rock-hard, ground into her hip. “I need you, Meg.”
“Please, we can't! Someone will see!”
“Wake up and look around you. We are alone. There is only us.” She looked around to see that he was right. The dressing room had been abandoned. They were alone. “We are all that matters now.” He crooned. She looked back into his cool gray eyes. His hand brushed the side of her face as he whispered to her. “You're late.”
Meg's brow furrowed. “What?”
Something in his eyes grew gloomy. “Wake up.” He murmured.
“Why do you keep saying that?”
His arm slipped from her waist and he stepped away. The shadows around him swelled and multiplied, enveloping everything they touched like a fog. The ivory mask was the last thing to disappear into the rolling darkness.
“Wake up! Madam will have your hide!” Meg's eyes shot open to be greeted with the worried face of their newest dancer, Annette. “Finally! You looked like you were having one terrible nightmare.”
“Uh... yeah.” Meg answered bleary eyed, the fading image of the Phantom still lingering in her mind. She had spent weeks now sneaking off to practice the strange motions he'd been teaching her. They had met nearly every day since that first night. The time spent with him was like no other she'd known. He cared little for social etiquette, and that was wonderfully freeing. But their practices were also very demanding on her sleep; in more ways than one.
“Oooh. Were you dreaming of... him?” Meg's eyes snapped to the young girl.
“Of who? I-I don't know what you mean.”
“You know. The Opera Ghost.” Said the girl excitedly, oblivious to Meg's discomfort. “If I had seen all the terrible things down there, I would have nightmares too! I heard there were rats and torture devices and human remains.”
Meg sighed in relief, getting up and dressing as quickly as possible. “It wasn't as terrible as all that.”
“Well don't you ever get scared that he'll come back?”
“He's dead. He's not coming back.” She dismissed, hurrying out the dormitory and down the hallway. Her haste was far less about avoiding Madam Giry's wrath, and mostly about getting away from Annette's questions. Annette however had other ideas, and stayed hot on Meg's tail.
“But how do you know for sure? Some people think he's not really dead.” Meg nearly stopped in her tracks. That, she thought, is a very dangerous rumor. She refused to have everything she had come to love jeopardized by suspicion. There were a hundred reasons why she lied; but only a handful that she would admit even to herself.
“I know... because there was only one body I saw down there; and it wore a half-charred white mask.” Annette's mouth fell agape just as Meg opened the door to the dance studio. Thankfully, she had no time to recover before the ice-cold voice of Madam Giry took over.
“Good morning ladies. I see you are both so sure of your skills that you can afford some extra beauty rest. Unfortunately for you, I do not share your confidence.”
“Sorry Madam.” The two girls replied in unison. Annette began to babble off an excuse, but Madam Giry rapped her cane on the ground to demand silence.
“The first production is just beyond the horizon, and we cannot afford to waste any more time. Take your places quickly before I consider having the manager dock your pay.”
“Don't worry.” Annette whispered as they took spots on the bar. “You don't need the practice anyways. You're wonderful.” Although Meg hadn't noticed a difference in her dancing, others around the opera house had. She'd begun getting compliments from other girls on the fluidity and grace of her movements. And yet their recognition was not what she truly longed for. All she could think about was seeing HIM that evening.
It came as no surprise when Madam Giry, pulled her aside after practice. The other girls hurried out of the studio, Annette giving an apologetic glance as she too scampered out the door.
“I expected better of you, Meg.” Madam Giry scolded once they were alone. “What is the excuse for your tardiness?”
“I have no excuse, Madam. I overslept.” Meg glanced nervously at the clock on the mantle. She didn't want to keep the Phantom waiting. “It will not happen again.” She steeled herself for a verbal lashing, but it did not come. Madam Giry simply sighed.
“What has gotten into you, child? Even when you're here on time, your mind is somewhere else entirely. Then as soon as practice is over you disappear. People are beginning to think you are a ghost.” She studied Meg's face with eagle eyes. “Is there something I should know?”
“No!” Meg blurted out, a bit more defensively than intended. “I just like to go... into town sometimes. To be alone.”
“To be alone? You have a responsibility to this troupe, and wandering unescorted through the city isn't part of it!”
“What does it matter what I do in my free time?” Meg argued, stealing another glance at the clock and growing increasingly impatient. “Has my performance faltered?”
“No.” Madam Giry admitted. “It seems the four years away has done you well in that regard. But I'm not talking about your performance. You are one of our best and most accomplished dancers. Many of these girls look up to you, and it is your responsibility to provide a good example.”
“Why?!” Meg snapped. “Why is that MY responsibility. Why isn't it Leanna's responsibility? She's the lead dancer!”
“It falls on you both!” Madam Giry squawked.
“And what does such a responsibility get me?! Is there even the slightest chance you will select me as the lead some day?” The room prickled with a tense silence until Madam Giry finally answered in a whisper.
“You know that will never happen.”
“So that's it then.” Meg said resolutely. “That is to be my life; to devote more than anyone else to this troupe and have nothing to show for it.”
Madam Giry rapped her cane on the ground in a show of irritation. “Quit your selfish whining! You sound like an insolent child. You are my daughter. If I chose you as lead, the other girls would think I was playing favorites!”
“Is that it, Mother?” Meg spat. “Is it really? Or are you afraid that if people notice me, I'll make the same poor decisions you did?” The last words had barely left her mouth before Madam Giry's palm landed hard across her cheek. Meg recoiled, mouth agape. She wasn't sure if she was more shocked by her mother's actions or her own words. “I... I'm sorry. I don't know why I--”
“Get. Out.” Madam Giry interrupted in a growl. Meg began to speak again, but the look on her mother's face made it very clear that she would hear none of it. Cursing her childish behavior, she walked out of the studio and headed for the costume room. She could only hope a night of strenuous practice would take her mind off what just happened.
- 4
- 5
- 6
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