Disclaimer: I know, I know. I totally don't own the story of 'The Phantom of the Opera'. Those rights belong to Gaston Leroux and possibly Andrew Lloyd Webber. I also know that this story was being written before. However, one of my dearest friends wrote it in the hey-day of her Phantom obsession and has ceased to update, so I decided to take it over. Yes, I know, I'm horrible. (: Anyhow, I've tried to refrain from using too much modern language and have tried to stick to the personalities of the original Leroux characters. Their appearances, however, are based on Andrew Lloyd Webber's musical adaptation of the novel. And the storyline is a mix of the novel and the musical. Enjoy! (:
The Phantom of the Band Hall
By: Unrequited Passion
"Oh, Christine! Have you seen the new trumpet player?" Meg gushed, her eyes wide in adoration. When her friend shook her head, the girl continued. "Oh, you simply must see him, Christine! He's ever so handsome!" Meg giggled and twirled a lock of golden hair around her index finger.
Christine chuckled and sighed. "My dear Meg, you are far too concerned with men!" the young woman gingerly opened her clarinet case and ran a polishing cloth over the nickel-plated keys briefly. Her friend, Meg, had continued to stand near her, tugging at the hem of her sleeve. "Fine, Meg. Let's see this new man."
Meg smiled widely and grabbed Christine by her forearm. "He's right over here, Christine!" the young girl sighed. She could act so childish sometimes. Both of the girls were beginning their junior year of High School, but Meg always seemed to be younger. Perhaps it was her youthful appearance. Her eyes were rounded blue spheres, rimmed with thick blonde lashes. Her cheeks were rosy and full. Her lips were plump and always smiling. The girl stood at a rather short five feet.
The girls turned a few corners and were soon faced with a large crowd of people. They were all surrounding this new boy, no doubt. "Excuse me! Excuse me!" Meg called out, pushing people this way and that until the young man was in view. "There he is!" Meg whispered excitedly. "Isn't he wonderful?"
The boy's hair was long and straight, falling just to the collar of his shirt. His eyes were of the brightest blue, and were filled with happiness and delight. "My God," Christine muttered. "It's Raoul."
"What did you say, Christine?" Meg asked, glancing at her companion briefly.
"It's Raoul, Meg. Long ago we met. I was a young girl, around twelve, I think. I had gone to the sea with my father. Just as we were leaving, my scarf came untied from my hair and flew into the waves. A boy jumped in after it and retrieved it for me. We were childhood sweethearts, you might say." Christine paused and adjusted her ponytail. "That is Raoul, the boy from the sea."
"How romantic, Christine! You must speak to him!" Meg shoved her friend towards the young man and chuckled.
"R-Raoul?" Christine tapped the youth on his shoulder. He never turned around. She tapped him once more but he began to walk away. Dejected, Christine made her way back to Meg. "I knew he wouldn't care. He doesn't even recognize me!"
"He didn't see you, Christine! That's all!" she hugged Christine tightly. "Don't worry, he'll come to his senses soon enough."