The Phantom of
the Opera - Goodbye, Old Life; Hello, New Life
'Director
Harold Prince wants the audience to "be collaborators, to use
their imaginations to fill in the spaces we've deliberately left
blank."
The Phantom's life after Christine leaves him:
what happens to him in the last moment of the musical?
Does
Christine ever see the Phantom again? What might happen?' – from
the stage show's official website.
To
release some anger, I decided to write this. I hope you enjoy it,
because I enjoyed writing it, and it's something I've wanted to do
for a long time. Oh, if you aren't able to notice, this is all in
Erik's point of view; first person, too.
Disclaimer: I do not
own Erik, Christine, Raoul, the musical, or anything else you
recognize. The only thing that's mine is the plot, the
innkeeper, the little girl, the town…and anything else that's
unrecognizable, but I think I covered
everything.
-----------------------------
I
had fled. I had fled the Paris Opera; let my love go with
another... I had fled, when I promised myself I would no longer
run, but face what dangers may come may way.
"Christine..."
I whispered. My heart was broken, lamenting over my loss...
Moaning, just as I was. "Christine..."
Where was I
to go now? I couldn't stay in France - that was most assuredly out
of the question... Christine and Raoul were most likely headed to
her father's homeland, and I had no wish to harm them anymore. I
couldn't believe myself. Years of pain, loathing, loneliness, and
I was afraid to harm a foolish girl and her lover! What was wrong
with me? Was I so heart-broken that I was no longer the murdering,
loathed, beast that I once was? Where was I to go? Where would be
the place that no one knew my reputation... Would I be forced to
haunt again, or live my own life? What was I to do?
I heaved a
heavy sigh, and thought long and hard. I didn't know where I was,
or how long I had been running from that looming Opera house that
had for so long been my home. I could find a boat to take me to
America, or I could... I was, for once, at a loss. My head was
clouded with thoughts of the last time I saw her, and him, the
last time I would see that accursed place...
"Damn you!"
I yelled to the darkness. In the distance I saw a light flicker
for a moment, before illuminating a window. Obviously, I was in
trouble. I was near a home (possibly a town), without a mask, with
nothing. No money, no other clothes, nothing that could help me at
all. It was a good thing I was in the shadows. I could easily
startle whoever it was that was wandering about in the light from
the home. After my minutes of waiting, the person finally stopped
directly in front of me. I was beside where the path ended, and it
seemed as though whoever it was didn't wish to go any farther.
I
had, by that time, gotten a good look at them. It was a young
girl, about the age of the young ballerinas in Paris. She reminded
me too much of Christine, as only hours before had we said goodbye
for the final time... I couldn't think of it any longer. I felt
like I was going to die of love on that spot.
The girl turned,
and it was obvious that she could see me, as I was slumped on the
ground and muttering her name. She gasped. "Sir, are you
alright? Sir? Can you hear me?"
"Get away from me,
you damn wench!" I had regained my composure, and melted
further in the shadows.
"I am sorry to have upset you,
sir. You were in pain. Is there anything you need, or do you mind
getting off of my family's property?"
The girl was
insolent, and her arrogance struck a nerve. "No, little girl,
there is nothing I need! I did not mean to trespass, please
forgive me." I said sarcastically. No, wait... There was
something... "Do you have a scarf or a shawl, girl?"
"Yes,
sir, I have my scarf." She looked at my spot in the shadows.
I had come out a little, so she could see me a little better. I
had not come out far enough where she could see my face. Surely,
she would have run in fear, screaming, as that large audience had
done... I mentally shook my head, further pushing those thoughts
in the recesses of my mind. "What do you need it for?"
She asked, pulling me out of my reverie.
"I am cold, girl.
May I take your scarf with me on my journey? I, regrettably, did
not get any of my belongings." I should have brought that
cloak that hid my face with me. Ah, well, couldn't go back
now.
She took it off and handed it to me. "Are you sure
that is all, sir? Do you need any food, or drinks?"
I
declined her offer, and began walking away. I would go wherever
this path led me to.
After several hours of walking, the sun
began to show through the trees. A little ways ahead of me was a
small town. Hopefully, I could find something...
I stumbled
upon a small inn. I called for the innkeeper, whose appearance was
disheveled. He had obviously just woken up.
"Do you have
any rooms available, monsieur?" I asked, putting on a heavier
accent than was normal for me. Usually, I just sounded like
someone straight from London, not Paris.
"One. I'll show
you there." He yawned. It was so annoying. He began speaking
again, and I forced myself to listen. "You're lucky. Last
room was rented by a young couple. They said they were planning
there wedding, and I just couldn't say no. I suppose I like young
romance. It's so nice to see young couples, eh?" He was
blathering pointlessly, and when he finished, I simply grunted in
response. We reached the room.
"Here we are, sir. The
couple's right across the hall, if you'd like to congratulate
them." He pulled out the key, unlocked the door, and handed
it to me.
I grunted again, and he left. 1
I sighed.
There was no way I was going to congratulate young lovers. Not
after what happened to me. There was nothing but silence for a few
minutes, and as many people were still sleeping, I heard a muffled
giggle. So, it was them. I decided to sit and listen. It wasn't
like there was much else I could do. A giggle, again, and a male's
laughter. I hoped they weren't doing anything in that room,
especially considering the fact that I was listening to them. I
began to feel sick however, when I heard this statement:
"Christine, I love you!"
There was no way that it
could be them. There's more than one Christine near there, right?
What little hope I had then left me.
"Oh, Raoul! Where
shall we go to be wed?" There was more than one Raoul, too,
right?
"Oh, Little Lotte, I leave that entirely up to
you." Damn. It had to be them.
I stood, and headed for the
door. I hesitated, and then I heard a knock. I had to open it. Had
to be polite in a new place. To my luck, there stood Christine and
Raoul. Christine gasped, then shrieked, while Raoul made a noise
that could have been a growl. I wasn't sure with him.
"What
are you doing here?" He hissed, that look of loathing I was
so used to in his eyes. I hated that look. Despised it,
even.
"Believe me, monsieur, I did not mean to follow you
here. I thought of every possible way to be sure that I didn't
meet you anywhere. I was just about to leave, when you came
over."
"And why should we believe you? Do you not
remember, that not long ago, you tried to kill me, and force
Christine to marry you?!"
"Stop, Raoul!" It was
a good thing she decided to interrupt then. I would've said
something I knew I'd regret. Christine retreated to their room,
and came out with something white. I couldn't help the gasp that
escaped my lips, or what passes for my lips, when I realized what
it was. She held it out to me, and I took it greatfully.
"How
did you get this?"
"Meg found us before we left
Paris, and gave it to us. I know why now. She must've known we'd
find you again. Please, put it on." 2
"Look
away." I commanded, and Christine complied, because I still
held some power over her, surprisingly, but Raoul refused.
"Why?"
He asked. "We've seen your face once, you beast, so we can
see it again."
I flinched when he called me a beast. He
had definetley hit a sot spot. Christine turned him around, as she
had done with me during the final kiss. He then, too, complied.
I
swiftly unwrapped the scarf from around my face, and put on the
mask. I had done it in a matter of seconds, I was so used to
putting it on. They then turned around. I made a move as if to
step around them, as they were standing in the doorway, but they
wouldn't have it.
"Accept my apology and congratulations,
and let.me.pass."
"I forgive you, but I'd like you to
get some rest. You look like death." Christine was the one
that said that, and I once again flinched.
"I always look
like death, Christine Daae, now let me leave!" She looked at
me with tears in her eyes, but she no longer affected me. There
was nothing but an empty feeling in my heart where my love for her
had once been.
"I, too, accept your apology, monsieur, and
if Christine wants you to rest, then I agree. For her sake."
What a fool. A fool in love. I had been that way once. It seemed
like only yesterday. I scoffed in my head. It had been
yesterday.
"Fine." I shut the door, but didn't lock,
and lay down on the bed. I sighed. The Fates didn't like me
much.
I didn't know that I could still sleep, but when I woke,
it was nighttime. I stood up, and walked to the door. Again I
hesitated, but when there was no knock, I opened it, and crossed
the small hallway. He wasn't sure if they were still there. For
once, luck was on my side, as she had opened the door.
"Goodbye
forever, Christine Daae." I turned, but I hand on my arm
stopped me.
"We payed for your room. I had a feeling you
didn't have any money. Raoul wanted you to have this, too."
She handed me a small pouch. I peered at the young man curiously,
while he just looked at me in defiance. He really did want me to
have it.
I nodded to him, tipped an invisible hat in goodbye,
and left.
A heavy weight had lifted from my shoulders. I felt
better. Foolishly enough, as I walked away from my past, love, and
that town, I came to the decision to become a 'ghost' in Germany.
The Germans were in for it, after all. No doubt they had an Opera
House or some sort theatre like that. I smirked, or rather,
grinned insanely, and walked on my way. 'The Phantom is back.' I
thought, still grinning. 'And this time, he is staying for good.'
3
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1 The
reason the innkeeper's not asking why he's wearing a scarf - we're
going to say it's cold in this little town with no name, and
people do wrap scarves around their faces to keep them warm.
Hooray for Erik's (and the author's) cleverness. Your
obedient friend,
2 They don't
call him Erik because this is based on the stage show, and in it,
his name is never revealed, and he is simply called 'The
Phantom.'
3 This is kind of a reference to another of Lloyd
Webber's musicals, Sunset Boulevard. In the song
With One Look, there's a line that goes, "This
time, I am staying, I'm staying for good!..." I'm a phan of
ALW, if you haven't been able to tell.
Truth be told, there are
a few references from the actual stage show. Just see if you can
catch them.
Review nicely. Flaming
will get you nowhere.
The
Germans are in for it, even though they do have a Phantom
stage show... Blame the Nazis (Muahahaha!) and sleepiness.
H.G.
