Hello everyone! This is my very first story for Phantom of the Opera, and I wanted to start of small before possibly writing more. As I stated it is my first story so feel free to give me constructive criticism but nothing too harsh please.
Enjoy.
-Kristina
Disclaimer: I don't own The Phantom of the Opera or any of the characters. But honestly, you all should've known that.
The reflection in the mirror before her didn't seem like her. As she stared at the women standing in front of her dressed in the elegant wedding dress she couldn't see herself. She couldn't see Christine. Of course she wore the bright smile that seemed to be able to brighten anyone's day, her skin had a healthy glow and her beautiful brown hair was pinned up on her head, a few curls framing her face. But it was all an act, a charade to fool the others around her. So far it was working.
No, staring back at the girl in the mirror she felt as if she was staring into the blue eyes of a stranger. No one had seemed to notice, even Raoul seemed fooled by her act, but she had left her true self back in that mans lair. Back with the man who truly owned her heart.
Funny how the man who she was so sure she loved wasn't the man she was getting married to. She didn't even know the name of the man who held her heart. It was true, her heart belonged to him. He might not know it but he was the keeper of it.
With handing him that ring she had handed him her heart as well. A true smiled tugged at the corners of her lips as she recalled the man, her Angel of Music. But of course she couldn't have stayed with him. She would have been forced to live below the ground with him, something she was sure she wouldn't be able to do. No matter how much she loved him.
"Christine?"
The bride to be took in a sharp intake of breath, desperately blinking back the tears that threatened to fall. Pushing those tears back she forced a smile onto her face and turned to face the person who had spoke. Her gaze landed on the form of her best friend.
"Meg." She spoke slowly, her eyes never leaving the dancers.
"Oh, Christine, you look beautiful!" Meg gushed as she rushed toward her friend and took her hands in her own. "Are you nervous?"
"A little," She replied with a small shrug, looking away and allowing the smile to slip from her face a bit.
"Do not worry!" The young girl gently took hold of her chin and forced the other women to look at her. "Raoul can offer you a life that other women would gladly die to have!"
The smiled has slipped completely and the tears were now filling her eyes once again, but Christine was determined to prevent them from falling.
"What kind of life would that be? I'd be dressed every day in the finest gowns, sure, and my face would be covered in make up that eventually I wouldn't be able to recognize myself! I'd be very much like a doll put on display!" She cried out as a single tear rolled down her cheek.
"Christine…" Meg quickly brushed the single tear away. "Raoul cares about you very much. That I know for sure." She offered a small smile. "He wouldn't just let you give up your passion, what you love, your music."
"Oh but he already has!" She shouted as she pushed away from her friend, walking toward the window. "He has forbid me to sing, he seems so certain that it would only cause me pain." Her hand shot up to her chest, clenching slightly. "However forbidding me to sing is causing me more pain then he will ever know."
"Perhaps if you told hi—"
"Told him what? That I'm beginning to despise him more and more with each passing day! That I believe I shouldn't have followed him out of that labyrinth! That I should've stayed behind with the mysterious Phantom? How would he have handled all that news, Meg?" More tears fought their way to the surface.
"Christine," Meg reached out toward her friend only to drop her hand as Christine moved away. "Christine." She tried once again. "He loves you."
"But that's just it! He doesn't! He is in love with a memory! A childhood memory!" She shouted her hands were balled into fists. "And I…I do not love him…"
"Honestly, Christine! You are acting foolish! He can offer you so much an—"
"Is it foolish for me to doubt that marrying a man I do not love is wrong?"
"Many people don't marry for love! You know that, Christine, you know that!"
"I do know." She spoke more to herself then to Meg. "I know that it would break his heart, not to mention humiliate him if I didn't marry him today like I am supposed to. That is why I'm going through with this marriage. No matter how much pain it may cause me in the future I will go through with it." Her last words were almost nothing more then a whisper but Meg had heard them.
"Christine…" She started but trailed off, realizing she had nothing to say. Instead Meg picked up a small handkerchief and offered it to the young women in front of her. "Here, wipe up those tears."
Christine accepted the small piece of cloth with shaking hands. But now she was sure that it wasn't just her hands that were shaking, no, she was well aware of the fact that she was now trembling.
Hesitantly Meg reached out once again, grasping Christine's hand in her own. She patted the small hand gently, a smile of reassurance on her face. "You can do this Christine Daae."
Christine only laughed, almost bitterly, before wiping at her tears once again. "Soon to be Christine de Changy."
"Of course." Meg said with a smile, retrieving the cloth from Christine and setting it on a nearby table.
Christine pulled her friend into a small embrace, desperately fighting back the other tears. The small friendly hug turned into a larger embrace as she hugged the little dancer as if her very life depended on it.
"Promise me you will visit me after I am married." She whispered into her hair.
"I promise, Christine, I promise."
"Good. I don't know what I'd do without you." She replied before letting go of Meg. "Well we mustn't keep the Vicomte waiting any longer."
"Of course not." She spoke in a timid voice before walking toward the door. "Ready?"
"As ready as I could ever be." Christine mumbled before walking out the door.
With a sad sigh Meg went to follow her friend before stopping, a flash of red catching her eyes. With hesitant steps she walked back toward the window, wondering why she hadn't noticed it before. A small hand reached out and picked up the rose that was lying on the window seal. A black ribbon was tied around the stem.
Christine had often told Meg of the roses she would receive from her Angel of Music, but Meg had always been certain that her friend was simply dreaming for there had never been a rose when Christine went to show her. But now, in her very hands was the proof that he did exist. Although, she had always known all along that the man had been real, he had just always been known by a different name.
The Phantom of the Opera still lived, even after the mob had torn apart his lair.
Meg remembered clutching the white half mask close to her as she left, running back eager to get out of the opera house, praying that they didn't find him. That they didn't…
No.
The very proof that he was still very much alive was resting in her hand.
The mask rested on a small end table in her bed chambers. She could very much take the rose for herself but she stopped herself. This rose belonged to Christine, it had been his way of saying goodbye to the women he loved. What he would never know was that she loved him in return.
With a sad sigh she set the rose back where she had found it before turning and leaving the room, letting the door shut behind her with a small click.
So how was it? I didn't want to put anything big, again, my first story. It was mostly an experiment. Review please?
