man, he looks ugly

Christine and I went back to the dormitory. She put away the violin in a depressed mood. While she was not paying attention, I took out the card that Lute had stuffed into the drawer. The handwriting on it was obviously Eric's.

It's a pity that I, who was in a negative mood, didn't care about this card. I just glanced at it and threw it between the cabinet and the wall, unwilling to read it.

"Honey, you need more rest."

"Faust will be on next Saturday, and I'll take part in it. Anyway, it's a familiar show, and I can jump off with my eyes closed." I poured myself some water from the pitcher.

"Is it really okay?"

"It's okay, Xiaoke, I feel a little hungry, is it time to eat?"

"Oh, good news, you finally want to eat!" Christine ran over happily, took my hand, and walked towards the cafeteria.

My stomach was still empty and burning, and I didn't have the slightest interest in food, but I had already found an excuse, so I had to let it be. When passing by the corridor, Lute was waiting quietly at the corner. When he saw me, there was a trace of excitement on his face. Inquire.

But I just dragged Christine and walked past him without squinting.

When the next corner came, I turned my head slightly, and Lute was frowning and rubbing the leather gloves.

He didn't seem to notice that the leather gloves on his hands were exactly the same as Eric's, and even the scent of the perfume on them was exactly the same. In the bright world that Eric couldn't reach, Lute sincerely played the role of an emissary of darkness , completely disregarding the secular laws.

Lute lowered his eyes and hid his freckled nose exposed by the sun back to the wall. In the pocket of his suit, there seemed to be a new white letter paper looming.

The new managers, unaware of the dangers of their decision, are determined to show Eric another stage of Faust.

What kind of revenge can a god of death who took his life do? Who can guarantee that these unsuspecting people will not become the next lamb to be enshrined on the altar?

I can't end the contradictions of human nature, I can only do my best to stop unnecessary disputes.

The first snow in winter fell in Paris, and the cemetery surrounding the church was dead silent. The winter in Brittany is always colder. The cold and hard granite tombstones are covered with flowers, as if someone just came to the cemetery Garden worship.

The bright red roses in the corner were picked whole and spread evenly on the stone tablet, as if they were blooming, freezing, and dying silently there...

I stood in front of my father's tombstone and watched Mrs. Geary pray silently to the tombstone with her hands folded.

During this period of time, so many things happened that she needed to express her short-term fragility by telling her husband's memorial day.

The only wonderful thing about having 'Embalm' is to use it to relive those vague hugs and kisses when you were young and longed for the warmth of your father's heart.

As Christine said, the angel has taken father away, leaving only love by our side.

Beside the wall of the old church in Brittany, hundreds of thousands of skeletons and heads are piled there, covered with barbed wire, piled up into a wall, and ice and snow cover these dense corpses, making people creepy.This strange custom once made the young Christine and I afraid to step into the cemetery, even when we walked in, we had to cover our eyes to prevent ourselves from having nightmares at night.

While Mrs. Geary was praying, I started wandering around the cemetery. This was the first time I went out since I was ill. I had been confined for too long and could only treat the cemetery as a back garden and walk around.

I squeezed some snow in my hands, gathered them in the palm of my hand, and formed them into small balls.

I haven't played in the snow like this for many years.

"Meg?"

I heard someone calling me.

Snowflakes fell one after another and pressed on the pine branches, forming a tree net of ice crystals. Under a statue of the Madonna with a drooping face, stood Philip in a three-piece black suit. He seemed to have gotten fatter, with bruises under his eyes It got worse, and he looked similar to those Parisian nobles who were indulging in feasting and feasting. Snowflakes stuck to his short flaxen-gold hair, spotted and a little old.

"Why are you so thin? You look like a person made of skeletons by the wall." His eyes were as arrogant as ever, and his words were mean and familiar.

"The news about some small people in the theater will not reach your ears. I have been sick for a while." I pressed my wrist and curled the snowball in my palm. It didn't feel too cold, my hands were already numb from the cold up.

He frowned for a long time before sighing, "You still care about that."

"Oh, you're thinking too much. They all said that after I fell ill this time, I was a little moody. If I offend you, please don't mind." I hesitated, and saluted insincerely.

"That's good." Philip lowered his eyes slightly, looking a little hesitant, or rather, a little unlike himself.

Our two old acquaintances faced each other awkwardly across the hard marble tombstones. When the air fell into a terrible silence, there was the sound of creaking footsteps stepping on the snow. A young man with blond hair walked up to Philip with an awed expression. And obediently called brother.

"This is my brother, Raul." Philip introduced me casually.

"Hello."

"Laure, she is, is my friend, Meg."

Raul seemed taken aback and couldn't help sneaking a glance at me.It seemed completely unexpected that a man as vain and proud as Philip would admit a girl as his friend.

Raul and Philip seem to be two extremes. Philip's forehead is slightly protruding, and his eyes are always cold and arrogant; Raul looks weaker. He looks quite young, like a big boy in the sun, with cheeks There is an inappropriate light pink on his face, and the eyes are the same sea blue as Philip's, but there is some tenderness that does not match his age and status.

The two, who are obviously brothers, have similar figures and faces, and there is actually a contrast like a male lion and a milk cat.

Raul and I exchanged salutes.

"Raul has just returned from the sea. He traveled around the world on the 'Borda' before. He was recently appointed as an official expedition member of the 'Shark'. He will go to the North Pole to visit the polar bear in half a year."

It can be seen that Philip loves his little brother very much.Inheriting the traits of loving the ocean from his ancestors and being entangled in family affairs, Philip is quite proud of his younger brother Raul's experience of traveling around the world to visit the North Pole.

"What an amazing feat." In order to respond, I quickly threw the half-melted snowball in my hand and clapped my hands softly.

"These days, I'll take him to the opera house to enjoy some wonderful performances, Meg, are there any classic plays going on recently?" Philip flicked the snow off his sleeves.

"Faust is on tomorrow."

"Who will play Marguerite? Christine or Carlotta? I heard that not long ago, Christine played Marguerite with great success. Unfortunately, I missed the welcome party"

"It's Carlotta, her qualifications are older." I couldn't help saying sourly.

The new manager of the theater knows that Christine's singing is more emotional, but still insists on his own opinion, thinking that Carlotta can better ensure the smooth progress of the show.They felt that as an actress who did not know where she came from, she couldn't compare with the famous soprano.

And the handsome guy Raul, who is not much different from the marble statues around him, seemed a little weird. He faced me several times and wanted to open his mouth, but after sneaking a glance at Philip, he swallowed it.

Maybe people always have an inexplicable sensitivity to inexplicable intrusion into certain people and things in their lives. Just like the moment Raul appeared in front of me, I held an abnormal hostility and rejection towards him. This hostility lasted for a long, long time...

In the early morning of Saturday, when frost came to Paris, I woke up from a light sleep early in the morning, climbed to the roof terrace, stood on the edge of the narrow roof, and watched the tall plane trees outside the window fall for the last time. Layers of leaves, like the corpses of dead butterflies, covered the steps at the entrance of the theater.

The street was filled with mist, and the coffee shop clerk opened the door sleepily, wiped off the moisture on the outdoor tables and chairs, and prepared to welcome the first group of early guests.

I always climbed on the roof and watched what was happening around the theater like a spectator, but I was an actor.

It wasn't until the whole theater was waking up and I was at the breakfast table that I returned to the people with my frost-drenched hair.

Many girls whispered.

I am not entirely insensible to certain gossips in the ballet company, since the doctor gave me a long-term rest note, there have been some gossips that have come out of nowhere.

They think that I have something wrong with my brain, I have run into evil, or some other reason, so I changed from a cheerful girl who smiled every day to this numb and lonely person who sometimes behaves strangely. Incomprehensible behavior.

This rumor is probably created by myself. A girl who can't fit into the group at all, when she is disheartened and bored, she will tear off the disguise she has worked so hard to maintain. Naturally, it will be misinterpreted by others. How can I expect others to have the mood and patience? , enough to know a person?

Christine hurried forward, led me back to the table.

"Did you go to the rooftop to relax again?" She tried to warm my hand with her breath.

"Well, the air is a bit humid today." I also tried to put on a smile, but after staying in the cold wind for a long time, after forcing my face to smile, Christine's expression became more rigid.

She pushed the cup to me and told me softly, "Drink some hot milk. I have rehearsal today and a performance tonight."

I almost buried my face in the glass of milk, letting the moist, warm steam wrap my face.

Several girls were sharing gossip from Solly about Philip's younger brother, Raul.They haven't gotten enough information from Solly's mouth yet, but the news of being young, handsome, and having the status of a viscount is enough to make them blush and laugh exaggeratedly while covering their lips.

Christine was chewing the bread carelessly, and her feet under the table were beating the time of Faust's aria.

"Speaking of which, where did the rumor come from that Carlotta will not be on stage today."

"Even if the manager is changed, don't forget, the theater is still in the hands of ghosts." A girl added in a low voice.

When she was speaking, Anais obviously shivered, and the girls also looked unnatural.

"Christine, come with me."

"what?"

"follow me."

Carlotta's maid came with her from Italy, and every morning would prepare a cup of thick hot chocolate syrup for Carlotta, so that the soprano's lungs would warm up and her throat would open up.

"What are we doing here?" Christine looked around anxiously in the corridor. The few encounters with Carlotta and the psychological shadow left by the last time she was counted made her feel suspicious of this powerful woman. Fear, let alone the courage to face Carlota.

"Wait a minute."

When Lute appeared in the hallway and ran into Carlotta's maid unexpectedly, the nausea made me feel particularly uncomfortable.

Eric never gave up his obsession, as he himself said. 'If I want to get something, I have to use my own strength to get it'.

"We need to know what Lute sent in the letter."

After Lute handed the letter to Carlota's maid, he turned and left.

"Quick, go up and pester her."

"What? What? What are we going to do?"

I didn't have time to explain to Christine, so I could only push her to the side of the maid.

The maid carrying the hot chocolate was startled by Christine who jumped out suddenly, and immediately exclaimed, "Oh my God, Miss Daye, be careful!"

I slipped into Carlotta's house when the maid wasn't looking, and hid in her messy, cobweb-ridden wardrobe.

Not long after Carlota got up, she came out of the bedroom with a scarf and disheveled hair, shouting the maid's name.

The maid put the hot chocolate and the letter in front of Carlotta.

As expected, Carlotta's expression became irritable just after reading the letter, and she was fidgeting. When the maid cautiously asked, Carlotta broke out.

"You ask what is in the letter? Ha, the threat from a lunatic, a lunatic, I knew I had already been envied by others! Could it be that the hiding guy is planning a conspiracy all the time and waiting Apart from implementing it, you don’t even have the guts to appear in front of me!”

"Do you know who it is?" the maid asked cautiously.

"Who else? Who else but that young girl who is trying so hard to replace me? I'm not going to let anyone push me around!" Carlotta slammed the cup of hot chocolate on the silver plate , with a loud bang.

In fact, neither I nor the maid who was hiding in the cabinet could understand Carlotta's voice. Lota's dissatisfaction with the theater manager was instantly covered up, and he no longer expressed his desire to leave the theater.

She even acquiesced to Solli to continue to play the limelight in the theater in order to overwhelm Christine. Some newspapers would at first be amazed by Christine's talent in large pages, and then continue to sing for Carlotta. hymn.

"Let's just wait and see!" Carlotta threw the letter away irritably, and walked to the window.

Outside the window, a carriage passed by.

"Oh, my God!" Carlota yanked the curtains shut, ran back to the table in panic, and crossed herself on her chest. "Seeing the hearse early in the morning, it was, oh my god..."

If at that time, I could have known Eric better, or put some thought into the letters he sent to me, maybe this tragedy would not have happened, at least it would not have come roaring with such a hideous face, bringing with it With the fire of purgatory, the whole world will be reduced to ashes.

The author has something to say: (づ￣3￣)づ╭ We are back, little angels