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“Don’t look now, but Stars is staring at you again.”
Peter resisted the urge to follow Ned’s line of vision. He hadn’t wanted to come to this dance ever since Liz had turned him down when he had managed to work up the courage to ask her. (She already had a date, but that was beside the point.) But he already had his costume and Ned had convinced him. They had only been there about five minutes when he had noticed a girl wearing a sparkling white dress watching him from where she was dancing with her friends. Ned had started calling her ‘Stars,’ because of the starry crown and necklace she was wearing.
“Do you know her?” Ned asked.
“How should I know, everyone’s wearing masks!”
Someone had had the grand idea to make the spring dance a masquerade ball, which seems like a good idea in theory until you realize you can’t recognize half the people unless they’re right in front of you. Peter would admit he was guilty of dressing up too, all decked out as the Phantom of the Opera in a long black cape and a white mask covering half his face.
A slow song comes on, providing a break from constant noise. Ned turned to Peter. “I’m going to go get a drink, you coming?”
“No, I’m good. I’ll just be sitting over here,” Peter told him, motioning to a bench a couple of feet away.
“Cool. I’ll be back in a minute.”
Peter sat down on the bench, sighing as he tilted his head back and closed his eyes. He liked dancing, but it could be exhausting at times.
“Funny, I would have taken you for a Raoul.”
Peter opened his eyes and looked up to see the starry girl standing by his bench. She was alone, the rest of her friends nowhere to be seen. Now that she was closer, Peter realized that he did recognize her; They were partners for a project in English about four months ago. He was 87% sure her name was Y/N. “You know Phantom of the Opera?”
He wasn’t sure because of her mask, but he was pretty sure she raised an eyebrow. “I’m literally dressed as Christine.”
“Oh.” Now that she had said it, he could see the similarities in her outfit. “Well, Raoul doesn’t have a mask. Neither does Christine, if I remember right.”
“No, she has a mask. She just doesn’t wear it.”
“Kinda defeats the purpose, don’t you think?”
“Not if you have nothing to hide.” She sits down next to him, sighing slightly.
“You good?”
“Hm? Oh, yeah, just tired. Plus my date ditched me for his ex, so there’s that.”
“Oh no,” he says sympathetically. A thought occurs to him and he smirks at the coincidence. “Is that why you’re over here? Raoul betrayed you so you came running back to The Phantom?”
“You caught that?” she says a bit guiltily.
“You mean you did it on purpose?” Peter asks, holding back a laugh.
“I mean technically? I also just kind of wanted to come talk to you.”
He chuckles, glad his mask hides at least half his blush. “Well I’m flattered, Angel of Music.”
“Aren’t you the Angel of Music?”
“Semantics.” He stands, offering his hand to Y/N dramatically. “May I have this dance, Christine?” He doesn’t know where all this confidence is coming from; he supposes he just wants to help Y/N feel better. She’s a sweet girl, she doesn’t deserve to be stood up. Her laugh makes all the potential embarrassment worth it.
“Of course, Erik,” she responds, rising from the bench and taking his hand just as dramatically. “Although I’ll warn you, I’m not that good at dancing.”
“Eh, neither am I. Unless it’s ballet. Or tap dancing.”
She laughs again. “Once again, you’re way too cute to be The Phantom.”
“You think I’m cute?”
“One, cute has multiple meanings. And two, pretty much any boy who knows how to dance ballet is immediately twice as cute.”
“But two times zero is still zero, so you must have thought I was at least a little cute before.” Once again, where is this confidence coming from? Maybe the mask makes him feel more like his alter ego, that would explain it.
“Fine, I thought you were cute before. Stop judging me.” She rolls her eyes.
“I’m not,” he says, grinning. “Anyway, if I’m too cute to be Erik I could be your Raoul for the night.”
She smiles up at him. “I’d like that.”