Characters...
THE
WESTCLIFFS
Lady Roxana Westcliff...age
21
Lord Andrew Westcliff...age 30
James Westcliff...age 2
The Phantom aka Erik Destler...age 40
THE
CHAGNYS
Vicomtess Christine Daae de Chagny...age 16
Vicomte Raoul Georges Philippe de Chagny...age 21
Rosaline de Chagny...age 18
Alana
de Chagny...age 16
Elisabeth de
Chagny...age 15
Comte Georges Pierre
de Chagny II...age 49
Comtess Monique Aurelie
Dominique de Chagny...age 41
THE GIRYS
Madame
Antoinette Giry...age 43
Marguerite
"Meg" Giry...age 16
OTHER
M. Richard Firmin...age 55
M.
Gene Andre...age 53
Carlotta
Guidicelli...age 30
Justin
Westcliff...age 25
Sebastian La
Coste(Roxana's father)...
Darya La Coste (Roxana's
mother)...
There may be more as we go...but these are it for the most part and the Chagnys play a small small role...however, if I read the original novel correctly, Raoul had two sisters I believe. well i added one. I didn't include his older brother because he is pointless to me. Also Raoul is the oldest instead of the youngest. Thank you...
PROLOGUE
Paris, February 1871
"Heavens never!" Christine Daae cried at the mention of some woman getting her bottom two ribs removed so her corset could fit tighter around her waist. She was being fitted for a wedding gown in the company of the young Chagny ladies, Raoul's sisters. Her wedding to the young vicomte was set for two months from now. Raoul was a wreck between taking on plans for the wedding, checking on his fiancee and being sent to work at his father's law firm in the fall. At twenty-one he was feeling the responsibility of a man of fifty. All three of the Chagny girls had the same light hair as their brother and blue eyes, but for young Elisabeth who had her mother's dark straight hair.
Christine was adjusting to the
difference in the behavior between the Chagny girls who had been
brought up and all sent to finishing school, as opposed to the ballet
corps at the opera, who had been gossipy and loud. The only girl
Christine still kept close contact with of course, was her sister Meg
and her foster mother, Madame Giry.
"Now Christine...of
course you will want layers." Rosaline de Chagny said,
instructing the younger girl. "It is all the talk of London.
Layers of skirts with the gathered bustle at the back!"
Christine had seen the bustles that were so in fashion at this time.
Truthfully, while she had begun to wear them, she still found them
ridiculous and hideous, making young women's behinds look
disproportionate and oversized.
Fashion had become a
comfortable outlet for Christine to hide her overwhelming guilt in.
Every morning, she checked the obituaries praying for some news, any
news of the man she had left five stories below the opera. Secretly,
she prayed he had gotten away and moved on with his life. It was her
only sense of comfort to know that he could find happiness elsewhere
outside the opera. Of course, the speculation was that he was indeed,
dead.
"Maybe it's better..." Raoul had said, pitying
the broken man.
"What a wicked thing to say!" She'd
shot back refusing to speak to him for four hours. He'd apologized of
course, and she had allowed him to hold her hand for the rest of the
night.
When they had announced their engagement to the Chagnys, they were, to say the least, a bit unenthused. Of course, they liked Christine enough and wanted Raoul to be happy, but realized how much gossip he would have to endure for her and how his reputation would be affected by marrying not only a ballerina, but an orphan. The girls were accommodating enough, offering Christine some gowns to wear before they had taken her into town and purchased a whole new wardrobe, fit for a Vicomtess. It all made Christine terribly uncomfortable, but she would of course, endure it for Raoul. After all he had risked for her, his life, his family, his future...he had never been anything but good to her and God help her, she did love him.
In the afternoons, while Raoul was at work and the girls were still sleeping or relaxing, she would think aimlessly, empty. Her singing lessons had always been at noon and now, there were no more. Her days were horribly repetitive and boring. She flew through a stack of romance novels, until finally there was nothing to do but think. She thought about that man...pondered whether she had loved him or not. The Chagny girls seemed programmed to think a certain way, which was marry young and marry well. Love will come later. A life without love...how horrible would that be? Only one person she knew of knew the answer to that, and she couldn't help in her daydreaming, wonder if he had indeed survived and where he would be...Angel of Music or Angel of Doom? Where are you...do you sing for the angels in Heaven or do you compose for Lucifer? I can only pray you are still alive and may God be with you and lead you home...