Hannibal had taken a place back stage. He'd been invited, but wished to see the audience as much as witness the music about to be played. He had been given a seat of his own, one prominently center. An honor that pained him to refuse. His counterpart understood the need, however, and didn't see it as a slight. Everything was rearranged so that the empty place would not be noted.
The dinner before hand had been quite lovely. Hand picked by the younger Lecter, arranged neatly. The guests had tittered over the meal, Erik's absence noted only by himself. It seemed to him that the boy had not intended Erik to join, though more than enough food and settings had been arranged.
He had been introduced as Doctor Fell, a name the boy had picked up from the media they resided in outside of their own realities. This had been decided prior to the evening beginning, lest the patrons rain down upon them legions of absurd questions. Neither Hannibal wished to be bored to tears on this night.
Red eyes gazed over the crowd, small as it was. Hand picked for their refined ears and loyalty to the Opera House. Hannibal imagined that Erik would be put out at losing these attendees should it all go the way he imagined, but the Younger had insisted that no others would do. He would not play for a lesser crowd. They had to know what kind of grand responsibility it was they were undertaking, and understand the privilege that came with being invited. On top of that, they had to be able to appreciate the music itself for what it was.
He was already sitting at the piano, that boy. Ready to play the music that only two sets of eyes had read wholly. There was anticipation in the air, from all corners of the room.
Hannibal returned the nod from he man across the stage from him. Before the lights went down, he moved around the space until he was side by side with the composer. He wanted to know the reactions intimately, wanted to see and share in this moment with the creator. But he did not stand too close.