man, he looks ugly

Going forward from the foyer, you can reach the most magnificent grand staircase in the theater. The builder must hope that everyone who witnesses it will be impressed by it. The marble staircase refracts the light of the candlestick held high in the hands of the goddess. The halls are full of words, just as the word "resplendent and magnificent".

I dragged the hem of the dress and walked quickly, followed the white pigeon into the hall, and the white pigeon disappeared after entering the hall. I stood there looking up and looking around for Eric.

The hall adopts a special architectural structure, and there are extended platforms in all directions, extending into the dim lights like a maze.At this moment, there were no performances, and there were no abrupt visitors. The hall was eerily quiet.

"Eric." I whispered.

"it's here."

A voice came from behind, and I turned around quickly.

I saw Eric standing on the large platform facing the stairs, still wearing a lifeless black suit, with an even weirder skull mask on his face, his hands resting on the railing, looking like he was looking down on the world.

"Why are you here?" He stood above my head, too far away, I could only raise my face and ask.

"Does it make you happy to be in a crowded cage, being chased by flirtatious men?"

Eric's serious answer made me a little nervous, and my toes rubbed against the ground unconsciously.

"Yeah, that's not the case." It was so weird, I couldn't help but stutter, stuffed my stomach with explanations, but in the end I could only answer like an overly shy child.

"Please allow me to introduce my benefactor to you."

A slightly fat foreigner came in from the front hall. He was slightly shorter than Westerners, and his complexion also belonged to the yellow race. He wore a lambskin cap on his head, and almost half of his face was occupied by a beard. , wearing a simple but oversized robe, he bowed respectfully to Eric.

"Daloga, this is what I described to you, the reason why I must return to Paris." Eric lowered his head and spread his hands slightly.

"Can he understand French?" I asked subconsciously.

"Yes, but not much."

"Mr. Daloga, hello." I tiptoed slightly in return, perhaps because of professional sensitivity. When I looked at him, I found that there were abnormal bruises on the edges of his fingers.

Somehow something went wrong, Eric suddenly let out a loud laugh that made the whole hall shudder.

"Daroga is his official position, not his name, my Angie. His name is too long to remember, just call him Daloga."

The Persian watched the scene in front of him quietly, with uncomfortable shrewdness in his eyes, scanning from me to Eric and back again from time to time.

"He lives at No. 34 Rivoli Street, opposite the Tullery Garden. If you encounter any urgent matters, you can go to him, and he will pass the news to me." Eric lowered his gaze, The golden eyes were diluted by the excessively bright lights, turning them into opal-like bright colors.

But at that moment, the loss in my heart was beyond words.Eric would rather have me go find a stranger than learn the secrets of the subterranean realm.

"My Angie,

How I wish I could tell you,

in this world,

In this cold world,

There is always a class of people who are tortured.

hiding in the dark,

Cursed and banished!

The soul is burned by the sun,

Be ridiculed, be bullied!

Can't let go, can't hold back,

Afraid of the light, longing for the light.

But whether the sun rises or sets,

I am with you! "

The crimson lips spit out a sentence with a rich and beautiful tone. The dexterous lips and tongue are like the incarnation of Satan in the Garden of Eden. Even the breath is full of charm. It not only challenges the limit of the end sound, but also surpasses the acme of human beings.

This row of overwhelming emotions smashed my soul apart, and was spliced ​​again by the sublime aria, pulled by the inner demon, and slowly broke free from my body and rose up.

God, I would sacrifice my soul just to touch his red lips.

Suddenly, there was a crisp sound of leather shoes hitting marble in the front hall.

After the song was sung, Eric retreated slowly, disappearing into the corridor like a ghost.

The Persian quickly ran to the side door on the right, his feet were covered with soft shoes, which made no sound on the marble floor.

Not long after, a group of people surrounded the fainted Mrs. Olan and quickly ran backstage.

"What happened?"

"Madam fainted."

Mrs. Olan's extremely pale face made the rouge on her lips even more abrupt, and her bun was disheveled at the moment. What happened to her? Why did she have a painful expression even when she fainted?

The chaotic footsteps went away again.

I was left standing alone in the empty and silent corridor, dealing with the extremely chaotic thoughts at a loss.

The farewell party broke up unhappy, and the girls who didn't enjoy themselves walked towards the dormitory in twos and threes.

A kind girl came to help me.

The lights in many places in the theater have been turned off, only the kerosene lamps in the corridor leading to the dormitory are still slightly lit. The girls are laughing and joking, excitedly discussing which aristocratic family is better at the ball, which young man is handsome, and which Theater actors take on new lovers... the most unknown secrets of the theater.

Coincidentally, we walked up behind a pair of dance troupe members.

Even more coincidentally, I overheard them talking about Christine, though never by name.

"She thought it was her own charm that captivated the viscount. Hehe, everyone with eyes at the ball saw it. Andre's eyes were about to plunge into her chest. Some people said that the viscount had already made a bet with someone, half guaranteed Abduct her to bed within a month."

"If Madam finds out, she must look very pretty. The chaste angel she worked so hard to protect has fallen like this..." The two girls chuckled lightly.

The girl who helped me turned pale, and stared at me with big eyes, for fear that I would have a seizure.In order to continue listening, I could only gently twist the back of her hand with my hand, put my finger on my lips, and signaled her not to make a sound.

"If you want me to say, Madam should think more about her daughter and place her hopes on her adopted daughter, but she is a pretty girl with no brains. Once she is cheated out of her virginity, how precious can she be?"

"Nancy, you are too optimistic. Which nobleman can bear a wife who only screams as an old woman on the bed?" The girl spreading rumors made another vicious evaluation.

I have always thought that my endurance is not bad. When I heard this, my teeth were stimulated and rattled, like being struck by lightning.

The girl beside her was trembling, she was too frightened to move forward.

And those two members of the dance troupe were talking in high spirits, they whispered some nasty words, and laughed together.

I must have been dizzy. At this moment, I neither yelled angrily nor rushed to appear in front of the two girls. The corners of my lips were even bent upwards uncontrollably.

Mrs. Geary had taught her strictly since she was a child, and she resolutely did not allow me or Christine to get too close to the girls in the dance troupe. First, she was afraid that we would be tainted by gossip. What a disaster... But now it seems that even though Mrs. Geary tried her best to spread her wings and put us under her tight protection, Christine and I still attracted unreasonable jealousy.

I stood where I was, numbly watching the two girls walk away, and the gorgeous actors walked by me and shuttled forward.

Eric's right, there's always a class of people who are going to suffer, there's always a class of people...

The multicolored statue of the Virgin Mary in the prayer room is flickering with spots of candle flames, and the iron shelf of the candle holder full of candles is empty, only one candle is lit by the fire, and the faded murals on the wall can be vaguely seen by the candle light.

What is reassuring is that Christine was kneeling in front of the prayer frame. In front of her was a half flickering candle, and the candle's tears dripped down a candlestick. I couldn't see her flustered gradually calming down in the dormitory.

"Meg, I'm scared." She raised her head, tears washed away the remaining makeup on her face, showing her innocent and beautiful face more and more.

"You're scared, it's okay, it's okay, I'm here." I tried to hug her, she was wearing a single tulle skirt and knelt on the stone floor for an unknown amount of time, her whole body was cold.

"We have no status and no fame, so we have to bear these humiliations?" She was in pain, pressing her chest, crying until her eyes were red and swollen.

"Honey, don't think so, remember? Mrs. Olan is full of praise for your voice. There is no doubt that you will become a pillar of the theater one day." I touched her fingers, but there was no warmth.

"But I don't have a teacher, and Mrs. Olan is leaving the theater. No one is willing to teach me anymore. I can't master those singing skills. Maybe I can only dance ballet as a choir member for the rest of my life." She fell into grief, Absolutely unable to extricate herself, the frailty of the poor girl's carefully concealed emotions exploded tonight.

"Christine, everything will be fine. Remember the story about the music angel you told me? Your father will definitely send a music angel to protect you."

The music angel, the unconstrained thoughts are out of control, the letterhead brought by the white dove, and the charming male voice in the hall make me and Christine redeemed.

"Music angel," Christine smiled wryly, "Meg, if there really are angels, why didn't you heal your throat?"

"Follow me." I grabbed Christine's hand and walked out of the prayer room, turned into the next room, and rummaged through the dusty cabinets.

"Wait, what are you doing? Where did this bottle come from? My God, you actually hid the wine secretly?" Seeing me showing what was wrapped in the oilcloth, she covered her lips in disbelief.

"Have a drink? Christine." I squeezed out an ugly smile, wiped the glass clean with a handkerchief, poured out the wine, drank the wine in the glass, and handed the glass to her.

Bewitched by my bold action, she stretched out her hand tremblingly.

Before Mrs. Geary allowed us to touch alcohol after we turned sixteen, Christine must have never tried the taste of drunkenness.

The author has something to say: When writing this chapter, the single looped Tokyo Ghoul's "Unravel" and couldn't help but open his mind. Imagine if God E could sing...

Those who have read the original work may know his pain, but those who haven't read it don't matter, we will use the mouth of others to explain clearly in the next chapters.

It's probably: how a hard-working ugly child was blackened step by step, and became a talented but murderous dark emperor (good middle school narration, let me squat in the corner for a while)