"Indeed," he responded, having recognized in the handshake the same reticence he'd felt personally on countless occasions. That was all for the best. But -- it was unique to find it in a person who wore authority like a mantle. Then again, he thought as he considered himself, perhaps it was not so strange after all.
The City Opera House was indeed quiet. Apart from the cleaning staff and the few odd live-ins, he was the only one within the walls. The performers and crew who made their living here often lived within the walls during the season, rather than choosing to stay at some other residence. But when there was no production to nurture, there was no need to stay. Those who did stay, stayed for the same reason Erik had for so very long: the Opera House was the life they chose, dark or alive. To live anywhere else would mean being apart from the thing that made them alive. Yes. Erik understood this. And he did not send them away.
"I'm sure you've noticed," Erik said after taking the man's measure, "That we're out of season currently. I apologize for any disappointment." He didn't invite the man to state why he'd come; but neither did he close the door on his excursion. Erik found himself curious... Surely a man who seemed so self-possessed would not have come to a dark Opera House to see a production that did not exist. There was another reason.