Erik knew the moment that the young Spanish singer stepped on stage for her audition that she could not stay. She had to go, and she had to go now. It did not matter if she sang like a goddess, she could be an actual goddess and he would still want her out of his opera house.
He was planning on how to get rid of her the moment she was signing her contract. No, he would not be haunted by that face again. Carlotta had to go.
The first note never got to the manager's hands. A crew member saw it and took it to who knows where. Erik had to remember to punish him later, but priorities first. The second note fell from the table with the wind, and went unseen. Erik put it in another place, but the managers threw it away without even opening it. He had to teach them to respect his authority.
The third note was accidentally sent to M. Poligny's lover together with some personal correspondence. She never understood it, but never mentioned it to the manager. By then, Erik was tired. If he was a believer, he would swear his late mother's spirit was behind this, trying to force him to bear the soprano's presence. La Carlotta was now rehearsing regularly, not even knowing how much her simply being there bothered the resident opera ghost.
Her voice hurt Erik's ears, not for being bad, but because of the memories it brought, of the lullabies that were never meant for him. Yes, not only did she look exactly like Erik's mother, but she also sounded like her. Even her expressions and gestures were so familiar, that if he didn't know better he would say that Carlotta had birthed him. It was a torture having her there.
Erik gave up on the notes, and decided to tell the managers personally how he felt. Once again, everything was working against him. The two fools seemed to never be alone anymore. He thought of just speaking in front of everyone, he was the Phantom, for God's sake! Still, he had no wishes of having every cast and crew member going after him. If he made his presence known in such an open way, he would never have another moment of peace.
Well, if he could not make the managers throw her out, then he should make Carlotta want to leave on her own. By then, she had already debuted, and the public received her well. It made her ego climb, which made her even hard to bear. What a diva she was proving to be! Erik couldn't wait to see her out of the door to never return.
He tried writing a letter to her. Carlotta threw it to the fire. He tried to make a simple prank, sure it couldn't take much to scare a woman, right? Her shoes or some pieces of clothing would disappear. She got five maids and other three crew members fired. He tried speaking to her, throwing his voice in her dressing room. She gave no reaction, she simply ignored him.
Erik could not believe getting rid of her was so hard. He was even considering making an exception to his personal rule of never harming a woman. He gave all the warnings, did all he could do without touching a finger on her, and she still stayed.
But deep down he knew it would have to be much worse for him to actually decide to hurt Carlotta. He was tired of it, tired of hurting, tired of killing.
Still, there had to be a way to get her out of his theater...
Ten minutes. It was enough for Christine to get dressed for the main role, enough for the whispers to start and stop at least for the night. Enough for Erik to check the result of his work.
Public humiliation was the last of his options to get rid of Carlotta. There was nothing worst he could think for a singer like her, for someone with such an ego and that valued her fame so much. Well, he warned her, he has been warning her for years.
Erik walked by his secret passageways until he got to the soprano's dressing room. Carlotta sat by her dressing table, crying.
Erik watched her, expecting to feel pleasure at her defeat, but instead he felt empty. He did not regret it, he would never regret it if it could make her go away forever. For years he had to take her presence, for years he was forced to see her face and hear her voice.
"Are you happy?", Carlotta shouted, her voice tired and her eyes red. She did not look to anywhere in special.
Erik held his breath for a moment, wondering if she could see him.
"Are you happy? This is what you wanted, right?" She stood up and walked around the room, looking up. "I don't need this, you know. I have a name. I have fame. I have all men in Paris at my feet."
'Not after tonight.', Erik thought.
"I can marry a rich and handsome man and never need to sing a note again! I have received invitations. England, Italy, America! Have you ever been to America, my dear ghost?"
Erik had no wish to reply. Let her think she was going crazy.
"Of course you haven't.", Carlotta continued. "What are you, in the end? Ghost or farce, it doesn't change that you are stuck here, right? You are stuck in this building, fated to always be a disembodied voice, a nameless and faceless shadow. In the end of the day, I am famous, I am loved. And you? You are nothing!"
Carlotta raised her head, no tear falling anymore. She took her things and walked out of the dressing room, slamming the door.
Erik stood in his hiding place. He heard Carlotta's footsteps going farther. The ten minutes would soon be over, and he wanted to see his pupil shining once again. Still, he found himself unable to move, as the words echoed in his head.
Stuck here.
Disembodied voice.
Nameless and faceless shadow.
Nothing.