First attempt at writing POTO FF. I think this sounds more late-20th-century instead of early-20th-century, so the next chapter might not sound like this. Unless you enjoy this writing structure...?
So I am basing this off of the musical. The movie's okay, but...yeah. I won't say what I want to because a lot of people would try to murder me if I said it...
And I highly recommend you see the 25th Anniversary Royal Albert Hall production of POTO. The cast is just so...PHANtastic (I know, lame joke, but still)!
I hope you enjoy this. Reviews are lovely, by the way. Sorry for the rather long A/N.
DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN PHANTOM OF THE OPERA
A New Life in Vienna
He had tried to compose the music for well over a year.
Nothing was working.
All the poor man could think about was that woman. God, what man wouldn't fall under her spell? She was the definition of beauty; her long, glistening hair always seemed to enhance her magnolia-white skin.
Why on Earth had he let her go? She had made him forget the monster that permeated his features. When she was still his, he could—for the first time in his life—look into a mirror and not flinch at his reflection. She had filled his dark world with a light that only emanated from her.
Oh yes, it was quite obvious to him that he missed her after all this time. But there was nothing he could do now. For, of course, it was too late. If only he could will the clock to turn back. Perhaps he could have tried harder to express his feelings…
Sighing in frustration, he laid his quill down and crumpled yet another piece of parchment. He had considered the idea of possibly finding another student. But he knew that it would only deepen his longing for Christine.
Indeed, the Phantom had a somewhat better life. He had always preferred Vienna in comparison to Paris. Yes, he did love that opera house, but the French were much too…extravagant. The people of Vienna led much simpler, carefree lives. In fact, life in Vienna was precisely what the Phantom needed.
He strolled about in his temporary home. The house was made of drywall. The villa was rather large; it was composed of two stories. It resided on a lush, sloping hill. At the top of the hill, there was a clear, majestic view of the mountains. Surrounding the summer house was an iron-wrought gate. Statues made of marble proudly stood about twenty feet in front of the house. Azaleas outlined the perimeter of the villa with their varying tints and shades of pink.
Its interior was marvelously crafted with cedar-wood-paneling. All of the rooms were massive and grand. He had bought a new organ and placed it in the largest of all the rooms in the house. The very room was located in the upper story of the house; in fact, it was rather secluded from the rest of his quaint home. Brass candelabras stood in the room. Hundreds of crumpled parchment littered the floor. There had been no completed compositions since Christine had belonged to him.
The Phantom quite enjoyed the villa. It was a welcome change compared to the underground tunnels of the Paris Opera House. The fresh air felt clean; this was one disadvantage about living in his old lair. There was nothing that he particularly missed about living underneath the Paris Opera House.
Except for the sound of his Angel's voice resounding in his ears.
FYI, I don't know if Vienna was really like that in the early 20th century...Nor do I know if there was even drywall back then...Oh, and a picture of the villa I used as my inspiration is located in my profile. And about the reviews...Yeah...;) Thanks for reading!