Chapter 1- Remembering
"It was his playground and now his artistic domain. He's a genius. He's an architect and designer; he's a composer and a magician. A genius, Monsieur."
"But clearly, Madame Giry, genius has turned into madness."
Madame Giry raced down the endless spiral staircase with the Viscount trailing closely behind her, leading him to the man whom she had solely protected for countless years of her life. She knew that it was finally time to let him go.
The once colorful and extravagant tapestries that adorned the walls of the staircase slowly became distinctly familiar. As she passed each frayed, discolored, and faded tapestry, more and more vivid memories filled her mind until she suddenly stopped.
"This is as far as I dare go, Monsieur," she breathed out, letting the young man pass her on the staircase.
Taking a deep breath, Antoinette Giry watched Raoul's blonde hair as he made his way out of her sight. She slowly placed a hand on the railing and looked over, feeling her heart throb in sorrow. She closed her eyes, holding back tears, and leaned back against the wall, unable to keep her cold, long-forgotten memories at bay any longer.
She remembered a simpler time; a time when the opera house wasn't plagued by a masked ghost; a time before she was married; a time when she was left with a choice . . .
"Antoinette Chevalier?" a young man with freckles asked as he tapped on her shoulder.
Unhooking her arm from that of her ballet friend, she turned around and smiled. "Please, call me by my middle name: Marie," she told him. He nodded and took out a small parcel tied with brown twine and handed it to her. "It's from a Monsieur Gustave Chevalier from La Bourboule d'Auvergne."
Once the boy was gone, Marie and her friend had found their way to a small café by the Opera House.
"Marie, what do you think your father could have sent you?" she asked, leaning over the table as Marie examined it.
"I'm not sure, Adeline. He never sends me anything for my birthday...I usually send them money," she casually said as she pulled the bow lose. Dropping the paper to the ground, she found a drawing of herself looking back at her. Unfolding the newspaper article with her picture on it, Marie stared at it in puzzlement. "NEW STAR AT THE OPERA POPULARE" the headline read. "Adeline, what's this about? I'm no star. I'm barely an official chorus girl," Marie questioned, passing the paper to her friend.
Looking down at the table, she noticed another piece of folded up paper-a letter from her parents and older brother. "We're so very proud..." it began. Marie sighed and tucked it into her corset. "Is this some kind of joke?" she asked her friend, who was still reading. "If this article isn't even here in Paris, then how could they have read it all the way in La Bourboule?"
A sudden thought came to Marie's mind and she pressed her lips together in animosity.
"Erik, I knew it was you!" Marie scolded as she gave him a playful push.
"Who else would it be?" he questioned with a chuckle.
"Well tell me, then. How did you do it?" she asked, crossing her arms as she sat down on his piano bench.
"Printing an article is easier than it looks, Marie. And besides, I supposed that, after all you've done for me, you deserve some payment-and I thought recognition was the best way possible. Since I can't show my face to the world, I think you deserve to show off yours," he explained with another chuckle. He then took a few steps toward her and furrowed his eyebrows. "Besides, you're a better dancer than that Sorelli girl-"
"Who had a real article printed about her," Marie interjected with a sharp look in her eye.
Erik snorted, shook his head, and went into the next room as he murmured something nasty about the Prima Ballerina.
Marie rolled her eyes and pivoted around on the bench. Stroking the piano keys, she began to play a few aimless notes. Looking up at the sheet of music that Erik had left there, she squinted her eyes in the candle light and started to play the melody. From the other room, she could hear Erik scramble to his feet and, within seconds, he was tearing the sheet of music away from the piano stand.
"It's...not finished," he choked out as he hurriedly folded it up and slipped it into his pocket.
Marie made a face at him and crossed her arms with a laugh. "Goodness, Erik- you've got to play me one sometime. I mean, you sit down here all day and write millions of songs yet I haven't heard a single one," she reprimanded.
"Well, when this one is finished, I promise I'll play it for you. I give you my word," he assured her with a confident smile.
After Marie reluctantly accepted his promise, Erik pulled a newspaper out of his coat pocket and handed Marie what looked like an ad for a new play. "Look at this," he told her, pointing to the blonde boy at center stage. "He'll be replacing Jonathan as one of the leads this week. Christopher Giry, Coming all the way from Sweden," Erik announced in a feigned voice.
Marie giggled and shook her head. "Just because he's famous does not mean that he'll be like the rest of them, Erik. I keep telling you that," she playfully scolded.
"Well then, we'll just have to see."
Hello everyone! This is going to be a great read, I assure you. Stick with the storyline as we delve into Erik and Marie's relationship (and possible love triangle)! I love to read reviews.
Thanks for reading. :)