Erik and Erika

Hi! I know I said that I would only write Sherlock fanfics but I got serious writers block for my other story and a love for The Phantom Of The Opera. This is based of the 2004 movie. Thanks for showing an intrest! – Frost

Disclaimer- This will come as a shock to you but…. I don't own The Phantom Of The Opera. I only own Erika, my OC. No copyright infringement is intended, bla de bla.

Let the story begin! (I changed the order of some scenes, sorry!)

Chapter 1

Erika's POV

Monsieur what's his name walks in. He runs the opera house and apparently is leaving to Australia due to 'health issues'. That translates to La Carlotta constantly breaking his ear drums. My brother and I just call him fool that runs our theatre, because it's true. Two men follow him in and he introduces them as M Andre and Firmin. Great! They look stupider than him. They turn their attention to my ballet troupe. I'm an odd one out due to the black mask covering half my face. I try to ignore them as I twist and turn to the music.

I hear them asking about Meg and Christine. And then, of course, they ask about me. I resist the urge to face palm.

"That other blonde one with the mask, she's exemplary." I hear M Andre enquire.

Madame Giry stiffens not knowing what to say, "That would be Erika, another orphan. She only has a brother."

I do a mental slow clap. Well done! Brava! Of course you have to bring Erik up.

"Older brother I assume?" M Firmin buts in.

Madame Giry doesn't know. We told her as little as possible. "That is a fact unknown to me."

M Andre calls me over.

I walk slowly forward. Please don't ask me anything, please.

"Mademoiselle, how old is your brother?" Asks M Andre.

I try to use my blue eyes as daggers the way Erik does. I don't think it's working. "We are twins, Monsieur." I mumble.

"Twins." They both repeat. Their reaction is justified as very few twins are born.

Both of them stare at my mask and I can feel myself blushing. I try to fight it as I can practically hear my brother's laughter; he thinks it's funny when I blush. He is always watching me. Or Christine; the other ballet dancer who he has a massive crush on.

Some girls come over which saves me from explaining the mask. I will never explain. Only Madame Giry knows of my brother and I's deformity and I would like to keep it that way.

I hear Erik move away, but if you hadn't been listening for them you would not hear the quiet footsteps.

Then the new patron comes in, the Vicomte de Chagny.

I hear Christine mumble something about them being childhood sweethearts. My brother will not be pleased. I pray he did not hear her.

After the Vicomte leaves rehearsals start and Carlotta is not happy. After were done she goes up to the new managers and yells something about them being more interested in 'dancing girls' than her. Which is true.

An outraged Carlotta went up to her maids saying something like," bring my doggy, get my doggy. Bye bye."

I resist a smirk. She does this a lot. And cue the grovelling.

I look up where Joseph Bouquet is meant to stand and instead I find Erik. When Christine, Meg and I dance he is present. Always with no exception. To each of us he is classed a different way. To Christine he is Angel of Music, to Meg he is the opera ghost and to me he is my brother. Simple.

Carlotta starts to sing the song my brother and I made. We write all the operas performed. The way we convince the managers to preform them is a simple threating note. Most of the time Erik writes the operas because I am busy rehearsing, this was one of the few operas I wrote with him. On rare occasions I write them on my own. Carlotta has transformed our music from a soft gentle song to something that sounds like a cat being thrown out of a window into a pool of lava.

Then Erik takes action. By action I mean dropping something on Carlotta. I sent him a thankful look before pretending to be horrified and helping her onto her feet.

Now she storms out. I leave a letter in a corridor for Madame Giry. Once I know she has received it I return.

"I have a letter from the opera ghost." She announces.

"Dear God, you're all obsessed!" M Firmin snaps.

Madame Giry takes no notice of his insult and reads the note aloud.

All the managers take notice of is his salary. Well, our salary. He splits it with me and I split my pay between us.

"His salary?!"

Madame Giry looks smug as she tells them.

They exclaim in horror at the thought of parting with money. I roll my eyes.

"Perhaps you can afford more with the Vicomte as your patron." She states.

M Firmin says something about cancelling the gala. Which cannot happen.

I glare at Madame Giry. "Erika could sing it." She says.

Cue mental slow clap. I can't sing it. I won't. Nothing wrong with my voice, it's more trained than even Erik's. It's the mask. "Monsieur, I believe Christine Daae would be more suited to that role." I say while pushing her forward.

I try the eye daggers again. I think it worked. As they call Christine forward.

She then begins to sing Think Of Me and everyone falls silent. This is how our music is meant to be sung.

I know she has had coaching from my brother but clearly her voice is a natural talent. All the dancers leave once dismissed. I go to the Prima Donna dressing room and open the mirror passageway. Being careful to close it correctly. I walk through the passage before coming up to Cesar our favourite horse. I pet him before continuing to walk. I don't want to have to return him.

After a while I come to the gondola. I start to row. Slowly but not too slowly. I come to the gate; open already.

I see Erik at his organ. Once I get off I notice I forgot to change onto my usual attire which is really what he wears minus the cape. The other girls think me strange because I do not wear dresses or jewellery. I undo the bun that Meg put in my hair this morning. I'm not good with hair stuff, what I can do is a low ponytail. That is all.

I sit beside my brother on the stool.

"Thank you." He starts, "thank you for not taking the lead role like you should have."

I smile a sad smile, "a monster like me could not go on stage as the lead, I get stared at enough in the chorus."

He looks at me but does not deny the truth.

My fingers start to play a melody. Softly I start to sing the first song I ever wrote.

More coming soon!