Author's Note:Hello, my darling readers. I know I have been posting a massive amount of Phantom fan fiction lately and taking it down and messing around with it. I am going to take my other story Phantom of Promise down, as this one has a similar premise, but this little story is here to stay. I have not written all of it yet, but I do have a bit written ahead, against my better judgment of course. You should be getting daily updates with this for a while unless something comes up. Of course, that all hinges on whether or not you review -laughs evilly- Alright, enough ranting on my part. Enjoy!
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Phantom of the Opera or any of the related characters. If I did, I would be a millionaire, Raoul would be dead, and Christine would actually come close to deserving someone as wonderful as Erik.
The stage was set for the performance tonight and everything was going to plan. Prima Donna Carlotta was back to singing once more now that the beloved Christine Daae had gone with her patron. Time had rebuilt the Opera Populaire and it was once more brimming with talent.
At rehearsal, the ballet coryphées and sujets danced as Egyptian harem girls, every one of them perfectly in sync except for a brunette maiden with long straight hair. She was slender and her midriff was shown in her revealing outfit. Thus was her part in this grand opera. "No no no!" Madame Giry said shaking her head. Everyone stopped. She pulled Elizabeth to the side and the rest of the girls continued with the combination. "Elizabeth, the opera is tonight and I cannot have you ruining it. I am sorry but you are going to have to sit this one out." Elizabeth looked horrified and shook her head slowly, her hands reaching out to stop Madame Giry from turning away. "But-" "I am sorry my dear. Go back to your room." Madame Giry walked away to attend to the other girls. Elizabeth ran, her heart broken. Her passion was dancing but she did not have the natural talent, nor the grace of Meg Giry or the other girls. She felt like a failure to herself and her friends. She opened the door and then slammed it, falling onto her bed, tears caressing her cheeks as she sobbed. She was never talented at anything! She could not sing, could not dance. It was just a matter of time before they threw her out and then where could so go? She would be forced to live on the streets. "What am I going to do?" She sobbed uncontrollably, the music still audible from the stage. All the other girls would get to perform. Except for her.
Erik paced the passageways behind the stage. Tonight's opera was the new opening after... the incident. He clenched his teeth, willing his mind not to think of her. As he strode past the dressing room where he had once given his lessons to his little angel, he stopped.
There, in the room, were the muffled cries of a heart broken child. He peered through the two way mirror and saw a petite little girl with straight chestnut hair flung upon the chaise. She was such a broken little thing. It nearly melted the ice that had re-formed around his heart since he had lost... Christine.
The tears flowed freely now, though he barely registered them. His mind was drowning in memories. The satin feel of her neck... the berry color of her lips... the delight and wonder in her eyes as he took her down to the lair... her auburn curls, always smelling of roses and sunshine.
He was torn from his mind by the girl's lament "What am I going to do?" Strained as her voice was with emotion, there was a depth of beauty there that he had not heard for so long. He sighed, collected his thoughts, and called out to her. "Stop crying, dear child. What is troubling you?"
Elizabeth nearly jumped out of her skin as the voice called out to her. She looked around, rubbing her eyes to find herself completely alone. Her thoughts wandered and her heart began to race. Meg and the other girls had told her of the Opera Ghost. The Phantom of the Opera. His voice, so soothing and calming beckoned you and there were few who could resist. He took girls down to his lair to seduce them and make them bend to his will. He was an evil and horrifying man. She breathed harshly as fear consumed her. He had found her and now would she be marked for death? Her bosom fell up and down as her breathing intensified. "It is nothing that isn't my own fault. It is you is it not? The man whom talks to girls as only a voice." Her fists tightly balled into the upholstery as she fought to make her shaky voice steady. "Are you not the Opera Ghost?"
He sighed gently behind the mirror, attempting to quell the old fury that stirred at the nickname. It would not do to lie again. Erik knew how well that had served him in the past. "I am the one they call the Opera Ghost, but I am no apparition, no Phantom, mademoiselle. I am a man, a man with a name. I am Erik, just as you are Elizabeth. Do not be frightened, child. I know all the goings on of the theatre. Your name has not escaped my ear."
He rolled his eyes, and inwardly cursed himself for speaking. The allure of this little woman-child was both strange and familiar, but none too pleasing to his tortured heart. "You would do well to respond, Elizabeth. It is only polite," He again waited for some small sound from the girl. Nothing. Fine, he thought, last chance. "I will not hurt you, Elizabeth."
She thought she could hear sadness in his voice, regret, but she said nothing about it and dismissed it from her thoughts. She was quite frightened that he knew her name but took comfort in knowing his as well. He was a man as she was a woman.
"Meg has told me about you and everyone knows of the events that happened at the theater in years past. Everyone who lived that night told of a man who was not a man. A man who's face was horrible beyond measure. Is that why you hide in the shadows monsieur?" She looked around, hoping to find the source of his voice. "I will admit that your presence is a little frightening. A voice without a body...."
Erik laughed despite himself. "I hide the shadows for the same reasons that spiders do. We are not accepted in polite society. Yes, everyone has heard of me as the infamous Opera Ghost, burning the Opera Populaire to the ground for the love of a beautiful soubrette. Yet, no one seems to know of Erik. Pity, I am a rather interesting creature. Not the most lovely in appearance, but after all, beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Of course,"
At this his voice grew very cold, almost detached. "I have a face that not even a mother could love." The sarcasm had died away and he made the decision coolly, with all the intuitive mental grace of the mastermind he was. "Would you like to know this man, Elizabeth? This Erik?"
She listened closely to his voice and closed her eyes. The deep roughness of the sound made her heart flutter and suddenly all fear left her. Lonely desperation. He was searching for acceptance knowing he would not gain it easily. "If you come to my room and reveal yourself then yes. I would. I am always eager to gain a new friend and you are a person of interesting nature. Erik, come into the light and rest assured. I have no place to judge another soul."
