Opera/Chapter 1: A Mistake Waltz
Serial Killer!Michael Langdon x Y/N (ballet reader)
Plot: A delusional fan obsessed with a ballerina...what will Langdon do?
Warnings: Obsessive fan, delusional Michael Langdon, talk about parents death, reader is a perfectionist, and passionate but has self doubts, not sure if this should be a warning but also toxic sibling?, mention of death, noncon voyeurism, depicted graphic murder, mentions of arsenic poisoning and dissection.
Let me know if i missed any warnings please! and this will get darker lol, please don’t read if you don’t feel comfortable!
Disclaimer: This fic is inspired by one of my favourite films Opera by Dario Argento (one of my favourite filmmakers ever!) and Phantom of the Opera! This is dedicated to those who inspired me they know who they are by now, one them has their name is in the fic! Also of course based in the 70s, none of my fics are based in the present lmaoooo.
Word count: 2.5k
Also the pictures don’t depict the reader, I will be mentioning Edgar Degas paintings in the chapter hence why I used those pictures, but I tried my best to make it inclusive! I am new to writing!! 🥺
7th of April 1974, “Dana, The most viewed ballerina since Anna Pavlova, The Dying Swan” was on New York Times, It was also the talk of their small town Beacon, New York. Shared between people and all over the radio and television in New York City. Dana is loved internationally from Russia, New York to Paris. Nicknamed, “The Pride and Bride of New York City”. However, her sister Y/N isn’t.
The Opera House, despite it being in a small town, it attracts a lot of attention thanks to Dana. Nicknamed the “Broadway of Beacon”, now the best-known landmark, a performing arts facility with 3000 seats in the concert hall, it is host to symphony concerts, choir performances, and ballet shows. With the neoclassical architecture built in the mid 19th century; marble Corinthian columns and bronze busts, expensive velvet and gold marbles for the interior.
The only place Y/N wasn’t allowed access to are the mysterious cellars under the main stage, their manager telling them that the owner’s daughter died there, Unknown circumstances. Her unborn child was found bloodily deformed, hidden in the window seat of the owner’s office.
Rumours were going around of a killer on the loose, murdering women in their 20s. Another rumour states that the murderer likes to uses arsenic, to knock them unconscious and then dissect them, as if they were his own musical instrument. The owner was able to hide it from the tabloid, to avoid hurting the image of the Grand Opera House. The sisters never bothered checking it out, after hearing about the daughter that will remain forever nameless, what didn’t help is their manager brushing it off every time they tried to ask questions, concerning the mysterious disappearance of the body.
—————-
Before their performance of Swan Lake Acte Un, Y/N and Dana are in their room, Dana’s station is full of roses, dandelions and daisies bouquets varying in colours like their costumes, accompanying the flowers are 100 fan letters delivered by hand, while Y/N’s station is empty like Dana’s love for her sister.
As Dana finishes applying the tinted red blush on her cheeks, Dana looks up to Y/N in their shared mirror and sees Y/N looking at one of her fan letters, stating in big red lines with drawn hearts all round it that she is a way better performer and more flexible than her sister.
Y/N lost in thought, her only fan didn’t send her a scented letter today.
“You know nobody cares about you, except for me…. of course”, Dana utters with a sarcastic tone
“Thanks, I guess”, Y/N snaps out of her ritualistic obsessive routine of snooping through her sister’s letters and continues applying her mascara.
The manager, Jade yells at them to finish up as the show is about to start.
They start finalizing their visages and their looks with the help of their assistant, tying down the final net layers.
The costume was designed and hand sewn by a known French Designer, Étienne Lefleuve. A blue tutu with silver diamond glimmering against the big studio lights, and accompanying the tutu, a bodice that contains a black tulle, decorated with feathers and rhinestones, and a wing-shaped piece of lace around the waist, the design going all the way to their chest.
However, Dana being Odette, her costume stood out so much more with her top skirt garnished with sapphire lace embellished with feather patterns. White feathers decorating her earlobe, and a cut crease look, a black eyeliner that help contrast her emerald eyes.
-
For Y/N, The Opera house is her haven but also her inferno. Despite her strong apparent appearance, before a performance, she recites “Memento Mori” three times before entering the stage. To ease her nerve and to remind herself that she is doing what she is passionate about, her first love and only love, ballet.
-
As the Y/N opens the big red wide curtains to the audience of the Opera’s house, she sees him.
He is here again.
A man in the audience always stood out to her, sitting in the front row seats. Long blond locks, plump lips and blue eyes as the colour of a clear blue sky in a summery day. Wearing the same Victorian-like attire when he sees her performance every weekend: a crimson necktie, and a black cloak staggering on the seat, showcasing his broad shoulders. He doesn’t seem like he belongs here... in this time period. He didn’t seem to fit it in. An eidolon. Like her.
He has been infatuated with her for months, obsessive and crazy about her. His mind has caged her dazzling movements. She is not Odette, but he always imagined that she is his Odette, his swan princess. Mailing her letters every morning to her workplace as soon as he opens his eyes and sending her letters to her private home every time the sun goes down without her sister noticing. Hoping one day instead of the hassle of mailing her letters, he would just voice his comments to her. Scared of rejection, for now he loves her from a distance.
He watches her movements attentively on stage. She dances flawlessly, like fragile wings trembling by the wind. Her eyes are closed to focus on the rhyme of the music, lost in its’ chorus. Effortlessly, she moves from one spot to another, her feet touching the ground with her pastel blue slippers, her tuff going up and down from the intensity of her movements. He thought she looked divine, her ballet costume, full of rhinestones making her look like an angel with a halo surrounding her, forgetting about the outstanding scenic design behind the players.
——-
While dancing figuratively on stage, forgetting her sister is around her, she decides to squint her eyes open. She sees a single tear dropping from his exquisitely structured face, trickling down his sharp cheekbones. Her heart skipped a beat, this time not from the rhythm of the music but rather from the emotion portrayed on this young man. She never saw him cry before. Was he crying because of her? She thought to herself. First time being swayed by something else besides the music. Halfway through Act 1, Scene, in the heat of the moment, she trips over her sister.
She was overwhelmed with the interest of the stranger in her art and in her. Overwhelmed with the sadness echoing from his deep sombre eyes matching the main’s theme,“the music of the grief soul”
She did not realize the pain coming from her sister, tell she heard her scream echoing in her eardrums, and a clashing sound.
“Ouch!”
She looks at her sister’s pained ankle, did not realize she was in pain too, till she left the stranger’s gaze.
She was shocked.
She made a mistake.
She was hurt.
Not bothered by the physical pain but by her perfectionism routine being ruined.
She looks at the crowded audience again, but the seat that her eyes mostly lingered on the past shows was gone..his red velvet seat was now empty. She, however saw his back figure, walking out of the big theatre. She felt that he was the performer and not her, his hands opening the black curtains to exist the theatre.
Her performance moves him softly, makes his heart beat and makes him feel human again, but then when he saw her in pain, he discovered a new emotion he never saw linger on her face. he realized he is like the devil feeding on her pain, but he didn’t mind, His mind is consumed with the thought of her delicate small neck and the rhythm of her heartbeat, on his thick veiny hands. He thought even Mozart would be envious of him.
Despite the distance, she stood out to him. He liked how her eyes changed when they are in pain, her eyebrows furrowed forming a shape similar to a swan’s smallest feather. He liked that now he has another different vision of you in his head now.
It will be easier to kidnap her with a tortured ankle, less work and less the fuss, he thought to himself.
She will be his eventually, in desire and in flesh. He however wasn’t sure if he wanted her for a quick fuck, wanted to kill her, or actually wanted her. He usually obsessive over specific women that he wants to murder, an instinct he calls it, but things were different with how he felt with her, his heart usually skips a beat from the thrill of murdering and seeing blood pouring out of bodies, he thinks it’s like looking at dripping chocolate sauce on a sundae... on a hot summer day.
He never forgot the day, he discovered he actually sexually desires her. After a performance, she was in the changing room. The assistant helping out with the complicated layers of the garment, untangling the ropes of the bodice. He can see her refection on the standing baroque mirror, and that was the first time he saw her completely unveiled. His lustful eyes raking down her body. Instead of his heart throbbing, this time it was his cock. Unconsciously, His palm was over his bugle, rubbing himself through his trousers, while looking at her slowly getting revealed in front of him like a little present. From then on, he couldn’t fuck any of his victims, every time he tried to, her naked body would flash as a mental image, like an intrusive thought.
——-
The curtains close, ceasing her view of the audience in horror. Despite the warmth coming from her pained ankle, her whole body felt frozen.
“you fucking jealous bitch, you will pay!”, Y/N hears her sister’s voice drifting further away in the distance. The only thing that isn’t drifted is her heart thumbing loudly
She felt chatter behind her, but out of shock she stood still, feeling disconnected from reality.
Wrapped inside her head with so many questions left to answer, the tabloid already didn’t like her, what will happen now after this? She never realized he was that captivating till she saw a single tear fall from his eye. She thought even Adonis didn’t stand a chance.
Did she move him that much? She felt that she was out of breath, adrenaline bursting into her views, which usually for her, comes from the effect of Tchaikovsky compositions and not a man’s endearment.
Is it an endearment?
his eyes portrayed so much agony, or did she misinterpreted that? What was weird is there were no emotional reaction to when he witnessed her mistake waltz.
The Buffy manager wearing a black suit and tie, taps her shoulder, making her snap back to reality
“what was that all about?, we had to end the show early because of your fuckin mistake!...act one!” Jade’s voice burning Y/N’s eardrums
Oh right…her sister.
She looks at the wooden floor on the right side, where her sister was performing she realized she wasn’t there anymore..
She blinks her eyes several time and pinch her wrist to make sure she is not dreaming, still giving her manager her back. Her pacing heart felt like a wrecking ship drowning and her head pounding with tension
“I am talking to you!” The manager twirls her body around with her brawny hands to face her, while her bulky body overshadows Y/N’s figure and the lights of the Opera house
“where is my sister?” She quietly mutters the words, looking at Jade’s eyes that has a menacing glare.
“Well, where do you think?, she states sarcastically, “ they took her to the hospital after that stunt you pulled”
She felt her body tense up, when did that happen? And also why didn’t they think about her pained ankle too? She thought to herself.
“How’s she?” Her voice is soft, worried about her sister.
There was a small stiff pause
She hears her manager sigh, “Well, we will find out”
She lower her gaze, trying not to get emotional and hoping no tears come out of her eyes.
“I know what you’r thinking”, the manager who usually is expressionless, snarled with a smile
When Y/N’s manager uttered those words, she look at her, to give her a sign to continue what she is getting at. Jade’s sly smile turns into and a smirk, “ but you ain’t going with you’r sister” she leaves her hardened grip that was on Y/N’s shoulder to circle around her physique.
“Your sister has to be treated separately, especially being the “The Pride and Bride of New York City”…you know better than that Y/N”, Jade stated over her shoulder.
Of course, the favourite sibling. Y/N felt her heart ache, She has never been the first choice for anyone. Even their parents before their car accident which sorrowfully took their lives, 5 years ago. They were hardly any childhood photos of Y/N. They always left Y/N with her self-conscious thoughts when Dana criticized her and judged her. She never got positive affirmations from their parents like when graduated at the top of her class in high school and when she won a swimming competition at a local sports club but they congratulated and threw a party for Dana when she won a small piano competition at school.
Maybe that’s why she didn’t feel bad over her sister’s stay at the hospital, caused by her mistake waltz.
Y/N thinks back to her manager, she knows she was not her favourite but she was never this blunt with her.
Y/N huffs and decides to start walking away from Jade to help stop her pestering inner dialogue, “No worries, I don’t need to be treated anyways, I got it myself”, She, however, suddenly felt a sharp pain, like knives piercing deep scars on her tender skin, but she didn’t want to show her manager that she was throbbing in pain. Trying to hide her whimpering by biting her mouth and slowly going to her room, taking hard steps despite the slippers. She can feel them echoing through the hall.
-
She gets back to her room, finding a letter waiting for her. Surprised she received one, especially after what happened today.
By the colour, She can tell it was from that person; a ballet slipper pink envelope with a red wax steel stamp. With no name attached to it, but they call themselves “Your Beloved”, which kind of did put her on edge because isn’t that what people address their lover?
But it did make her heart swell to know she is this person’s first choice. For once.
She smells the envelope like she always does and the scented letter habitually has a soft fragrance of vanilla mix with lavender remains of a flower that once bloomed. It is as if they know that her favourite flowers are lavender and her favourite ice cream flavour is vanilla. She never mentioned that to the press, not that they did care about that. They always interviewed her sister over her.
She opens the yellowed letter that always seemed somehow ancient, precisely with the scripture writing but this time the cursive writing is decorated in blood red, it did not feel like a fountain pen or a quill this time.
She realizes only two sentences are written.
“Don’t worry my beloved, I will protect you….I am coming for you….
“Despite seeing your dashing performances, I get so tired of watching. I want to start doing.”
But there are initials this time.
Signed M.L
Who the fuck is M.L?
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(I tagged people who wanted to be tagged or who I thought might be interested to read the fic!)
Sorry Dana , your character is kinda bitchy lmao😭, wanted to dedicate you somehow!!!🙈
