49. Chapter 49 Margot
Chapter forty-nine
It’s been years since I’ve seen The Phantom of the Opera , and at this point, I’ve likely seen it in person over twenty-five times, not counting recordings.
But I’m not sure when I’ve sobbed at the ending like this.
Maybe never. God, am I getting old and sentimental like my mom?
I need to get it together. Then again, the entire evening has been more pleasant than I had hoped for.
Despite the fact that I was hoping to sit on one side of Marco and Mark with Jack on the other, we sat next to each other, which was…
fine. It was nice to feel his warm hand on mine when I wept during “Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again,” and the handkerchief he handed me saved me from snotting all over my dress.
I hadn’t prepared myself to hear that piece live for the first time since Daddy died, and having Jack there, knowing how special our relationship was, was… nice.
As I finish wiping my eyes and we stand to make our exit, Jack’s hand finds my elbow, the pressure causing me to look up. His concern is plain on his face, and I’m glad we’ve called a truce, but nothing has really changed. I’m not his business. My reasons for crying are my own.
“Are you okay, Princess?”
I sniffle and pull my elbow from his grasp as we follow Mark and Marco to the coat check. “I’m fine, just tired and overly emotional. I haven’t seen the show in so long that it affected me more than usual.”
“Well, Jack, we have to thank you for these amazing tickets. I’m not sure how I’ve managed to go thirty-five years without seeing this show, but I don’t think I’ll make it even one more before seeing it again.
” Marco has red-rimmed eyes of his own, and I’m glad I could be a part of popping his Phantom cherry.
“It was my pleasure. I was hoping the three of you would be up for an early dinner and drinks? I know how much Margot craves comfort food after a good cry, and there’s a soul food restaurant not too far from here,” Jack says.
As delicious as a good piece of fried chicken sounds right now, I have some work to do before I meet with my masked man tonight.
“No, I don’t think I have time today, actually.” I pull out my phone to call my driver. “But it was lovely, Jack. It brought back so many nice memories.”
Before I can press call, Marco snatches my phone out of my hand and locks it.
“What the hell, Marco?” I hiss, displeased that my phone is in anyone’s hand, even locked. The tabs open in the browser right now…
“Sorry, cara,” he purrs, and I see Jack’s fists clench.
Glad I’m not the only one who respects people’s privacy.
“I happen to think food sounds lovely, or at least a drink. Come on, don’t you want to tell me all about how this staging differs from the original?
Tell me how wrong I am that I think Raoul really was perfect for Cathleen? ”
Snatching my phone back, I roll my eyes as Jack snickers. It’s annoying how predictable I am, and also endearing how well Marco knows me.
“I’m not even going to dignify that with a response.
You know perfectly well her name is Christine.
And as Jack can attest to, the happiest solution to the ending by far would be a sordid threesome.
” I sigh as Marco smirks, having successfully baited me.
I swear I’m not that easy to rile up, but if you talk shit about Phantom , I’m coming for you, no questions asked.
Marco glances behind me at Jack, then gives me a wink. “You and Jack have firsthand experience with sordid threesomes, then?”
I choke on my own spit, and Jack very unhelpfully smacks me on the back before I bat his hands away as he laughs.
“Sorry, sorry, I promise I’ve trained him better than this,” Mark says, giving Marco an eye that tells me he’s in trouble when he gets home. “But he’s deflecting attention away from himself because he cried in public, and he hates being vulnerable.”
“It’s true, I hate being vulnerable,” Marco says softly. “But in the spirit of vulnerability, I really would like to have at least one drink with my friends and discuss the overarching themes of my new favorite musical.”
“It’s the only musical you’ve ever se…ow!” Mark rubs his arm where Marco has pinched him.
“Please, Marge.”
“You swore you were never going to fucking call me Marge again, you ass!” I hiss.
“I made that promise under duress! You had me at knifepoint!”
“Well,” Jack says, “we’ve just so happened to arrive at one of my favorite cocktail bars near the theater. Since we’re already here, why don’t we order at least one drink and a few tapas?”
I look up and furrow my brow, confused at how I didn’t notice Jack shepherding us five blocks like a fucking border collie.
Was I that distracted by sparring with Marco?
My focus hasn’t been great lately, although it hasn’t affected my work yet.
I’ve been fixated on my masked man, though, to an obsessive degree that’s a little concerning.
I’ve been excited all week to see what he’s got planned for me tonight.
“Two fingers of your oldest scotch for me, please, and she’ll have a gin mule,” Jack orders as Marco and Mark say their drinks of choice.
Before long, we have a fruit and cheese platter in front of us and our second round of drinks.
“It’s completely unethical!” Mark cries, popping another samosa in his mouth. “First, he totally is in a position of power. He’s her music teacher!”
“Not officially,” I say, already seeing where this is going.
Marco continues, “Well, I was going to mention the age gap, but that’s low-key hot as fuck. You can’t deny that it’s creepy that he’s watched her for so long, though, and he knows everything about her while she knows nothing about him.”
Jack is still, observing our arguments with intense interest. Or he’s thinking about whatever excitement he has planned at his club later. Maybe his own sordid threesome. Why does that make me feel…something?
Shaking it off, I admit I’m well on the side of full-on Stockholm syndrome. “I think it’s cute. Endearing. I mean, yes, he knows everything about her, and she knows nothing about him, but he loves her! And she doesn’t need to know much about him, just take the music lessons and get dicked down!”
Marco finishes off his third drink and stands as Mark closes out their tab.
“I’m just saying, cara. At the end of the day, Christine didn’t deserve to be in the shadows like that!
With someone who wasn’t willing to reveal themselves.
I think it was fine for an affair for a while, but in the end…
” He gives me a secret smile. “Team. Raoul!” He punctuates Raoul by howling like a wolf, and before he can continue his antics, Mark collects him and shuffles him out with promises to do this again.
I’m left giggling as they wobble down the street.
They look so happy and in love, and I feel a tiny, deep longing and worry that I’ve missed my chance for that.
Jack interrupts me from gathering my things to leave by placing another drink in front of me, only my third, and my ultimate weakness. A plate of fried mac and cheese balls.
“Oh my God, I haven’t had one of these in years! The French don’t know what they’re missing!”
He laughs, deep and low, and has a sparkle in his deep blue eyes when he looks up. “Do you remember when you practically berated a server at the restaurant-which-shall-not-be-named when they were out of these on my half birthday one year?”
I blush before failing to stop a belly laugh. “Oh my God, I had completely forgotten about that! I must have been all of what, ten years old?”
Jack gives me a wistful smile that I ignore.
“You were seven, I’ll have you know. I think every table in the restaurant was impressed with your vocabulary and how eloquent you were in telling the manager that you were going to sue them for false advertising, seeing as the mac and cheese balls were on the sign right outside the front door of the restaurant! ”
Groaning, I finish off the bite. “I just don’t understand why Mom always took us there.
It’s such a weird restaurant. I know you and Ledger always requested it because she let you order one of every slice of cheesecake, but you always made yourselves sick and had a massive sugar hangover the next day. ”
He chuckles. “I think she always hoped we would have some sense, and it would be a sign we were maturing when we stopped asking to gorge ourselves on cheesecake for our half birthdays.”
“And when did this maturing finally happen?”
“I’ll let you know when it does.” He winks. “Last year, I managed eleven slices before I threw up. Ledger’s only ever gotten to ten.”
“The two of you are a literal problem, I swear,” I sigh, full of fried cheese with zero regrets. Sipping the soda I switched to a while ago, I’m about to check my phone for the time when Jack interrupts me softly.
“Do you really think the Phantom is a romantic figure, not just a creep taking advantage of a young woman’s passion?” he asks, swirling the same scotch he’s been nursing in his glass.
I’m not sure I have a full answer for him. It’s complicated. What isn’t?
“Well, his mask isn’t necessarily only to fool her.
He feels shame over his disfigurement, and he worries she won’t be accepting of him if she knows who he really is.
I think that it’s pretty hard not to feel sympathy for that.
His obsession would be creepy in real life, maybe, but between you and me… in books, that shit is hot.”
Jack stares at me intensely, but I meet his gaze and continue. This isn’t the first philosophical discussion he and I have ever had, although hopefully this one won’t result in me kneeing him in the balls. I can’t help but snort a laugh.
“What?” He cocks his head to the side.
“Remember when Mom had us play ‘debate team,’ and you had to defend the patriarchy, and I kneed you in the balls and yelled fuck the patriarchy?”
Jack runs a hand down his face. “God, that hurt. You were eleven! You shouldn’t have been yelling fuck about anything.”
I exhale, cheeks hurting from laughing more today than I have in a while, before changing the subject back to my favorite play.
“I guess. It always bothered me when people loved Raoul, just because he had loved her when they were children. It had been years! People change! And he just assumed they would be together, without giving her a whole lot of say in the matter, necessarily.”
Sitting back in my chair, I come to the same conclusion I always have when trying to decide between the Phantom and Raoul.
“Christine might’ve actually wanted to be a dirty girl with a masked man in a dungeon!
Nothing wrong with that. Masks, forced proximity, age gap—lots of super-hot kinks in there.
Maybe she did want to be with her childhood love, and Raoul wasn’t being pushy or misogynistic.
He just wanted her to have everything she needed. ”
Jack is totally still now, and I appreciate him paying so much attention to my diatribe.
“I think, if it were me, I would simply choose…both!” Slurping the rest of my soda, I move to stand and stretch, getting blood flow back after being stationary for longer than I thought.
“I’ve been team masked man plus childhood sweetheart equals hot threesome since Mom told me Christine could choose them both if she wanted.
There’s no reason not to have it all, Jack! ”
Satisfied that I’ve thoroughly made my point, I look down at my phone only to see that Marco must have turned it on do not disturb when he had it earlier.
Which means my alarms didn’t go off. Which means we’ve been sitting here talking for hours.
Which means I’m already ten minutes late to meet my masked man, and I’m a fifteen-minute cab ride from the club.
“Fuck!” I yell, jolting Jack out of his reverie and earning me a few concerned glances from the rest of the bar. I don’t say bye or thanks as I waste no time getting outside to hail a cab.
I don’t care how rude I am. All I can think about is how late I am. And how much fucking trouble I’m in with my own Phantom.