A note from the author: Hi! This is my first ever fanfiction and I hope you enjoy it! i decided that it would be interesting to write part of the scene before the performance of Don Juan Triumphant from the perspective of an audience member, namely my OC Margot Joubert. All characters, story, and quotations belong to Gaston Leroux and Andrew Lloyd Webber. If you get the chance, please read and review!
An Excerpt From The Diary Of Margot Joubert
His voice fills the room like that of Legion, leaving the audience hushed in fear and, at least in my case, awe. This is voice of the Opera Ghost, the man or fiend that terrorised the Opera Populaire; the one who composed this strange new opera, Don Juan Triumphant. I clutch the ruby pendant at my throat in anticipation.
"I'm here, the Phantom of the Opera." says this echoing whisper
The Vicomte Raoul de Chagny and his guards turn to aim at box five, hoping to ensnare the villain. With a point and wave of his hand, the Vicomte readies them to shoot at his command.
"I'm here, the Phantom of the Opera!", he calls from the catwalk.
Our heroes turn and gesture accordingly, the audience riveted to the spot. I crane my head to catch a glimpse of this Phantom, but only end up straining my neck under the weight of all my hair piled atop my head.
"I'm here", in the pit. "I'm here", in row thirteen. "I'm here!", from behind me in box three, forcing a shiver down my spine.
The eyes of the men before the doors and the stage curtain search frantically for the source of the voice, which seems to come from everywhere and nowhere.
He's toying with them , I thought to myself. Under my green wool cloak and matching gown, my blood runs alternately hot and cold.
All of a sudden, from back at box five, a boom.
"I'M HERE!"
A shot rings out, startling several people in the audience, myself included. The Vicomte de Chagny is irate. "Idiot!", he shouts at the guard. "You'll kill someone. I said, 'only when the time comes'!" "But Monsieur le Vicomte-" pleads the guard.
"NO BUTS!"
I gasp, half thinking that the mysterious Phantom was killed before any of us in the audience could see him. I then chide myself for being so callous as wanting to gawk at a man before he is possibly executed, even if he's as wicked as they say he is.
"For once, Monsieur le Vicomte is right."
Who is this man?
The voice continued.
"Seal my fate tonight. I hate to have to cut the fun short, but the joke's wearing thin; let my opera begin!"
And so it does.