A/N: You would think I would be out of fresh perspectives to do another rehashing PhanFic by now. You would like to think that, wouldn't you? Well, my imagination had other ideas. And so I bring you a story completely from Meg Giry's POV. Feedback, as always, is more than welcome! As with all my other stories, I do not own "Phantom of the Opera" or any of its characters.
"We'll always have the rooftop." That was his promise to me...one of many. No matter what happened during the day, we would meet on the rooftop to watch the sunset. It was a vow we always stuck to. Always. Every evening for two years. Even if he was in one of his worst moods, when his roaring voice would echo off the cavern walls and two or three candelabras would find themselves tossed into the lake.
Most of the time, I could handle it...I would wait patiently for his rage to subside, and then I would pull him close. But if it got too much even for me, he would know to find me on the rooftop. Always the rooftop.
It was the rooftop where we first met. He was up there, perched atop one of the statues, peering out at nothing. His tears splashed upon the stone, but his shoulders never shook. Perhaps he had cried like this so often that he had grown immune, not even realizing when he was doing it, or perhaps not wanting to waste the energy. He didn't notice me at first. Or perhaps he did but did not want to bother. I let a few of my own tears fall as I watched him, and then I turned to leave, to give him his privacy.
"Wait," his voice ordered, and despite his tears, it was not the least bit shaky. He slid down off the statue effortlessly, landing lightly on his feet, such as with a cat. As he stood in front of me, I looked up at him—this caped masked figure that seemed more shadow than man. He studied me as well, but only for a moment. "You were watching me." It was not a question, but nevertheless it demanded an answer.
"Yes, Monsieur..." I nodded.
"Did you enjoy the view? Was it...a performance you enjoyed?"
"No, Monsieur, I..."
"Then why? Why would you watch me?"
"I don't know..." I looked down, but he lifted my chin to meet his gaze. I looked into his eyes then. They were still watery with tears unshed, and yet there was a fire deep inside them.
"Did you follow me here then? Or am I intruding on your alone time?"
"You're not intruding. But I did...follow you, in a way..."
"That was a very unwise decision on your part, Mademoiselle. To follow a man is dangerous enough. But to chase after the Phantom of the Opera..."
"The Phantom of the Opera? Is that what you call yourself?"
"Are you mocking me, child?"
"No, not at all...it's just...you don't feel like a phantom..." At this, he dropped his hand from my chin and turned away. "I'm sorry," I said after a while. He turned back around to face me then, looking at me as if he were seeing me for the first time.
"You're Little Giry…Marguerite…"
"You…know my name, Monsieur?" As soon as the question was asked, I realized how foolish it sounded. This was him I was talking to…the Opera Ghost…I flushed slightly, and he was kind enough to do nothing more than smirk down at me.
"My dear girl, I know everyone who walks through the opera house doors. Especially the daughter of Madame Giry…"
"My mother? What does she have to do with this?" He seemed taken aback at my words, as if realizing how much he had just said.
"I'll ask the questions, Mademoiselle. Now why would you follow me?" I looked down then and sighed.
"I…needed to get away from all the chaos on stage…Mama was busy with the other girls, so I took the chance and slipped away…I wasn't sure where I was going to go, but…then I saw your shadow…"
"And you just decided to follow it? Had you no thoughts whatsoever toward your safety?"
"I…figured it had to be you…"
"Why does that make a difference? If anything, that should have given you all the more reason to go the other way…"
"Curiosity, I suppose." I shrugged, and he chuckled.
"Have you not heard the term 'curiosity killed the cat?'" I knew he was trying to sound threatening, but I also knew that in all my life at the Opera House, not once had he attacked any of the girls, save for the pranks played on Carlotta. In fact, before Monsieur Buquet that night, he had not attacked anyone. And so I stared back at him, meeting his gaze evenly.
"I have heard it, yes." He frowned a bit before turning away with a sigh.
"Leave me."
"Will you be all right?" He tensed when I said this, and it seemed like several minutes passed before he spoke.
"I will be the same as always, Mademoiselle. But you should not concern yourself with my welfare." I heard bitterness in his voice, and I touched his shoulder. He tensed some more before grabbing my hand and whirling around. Another silence followed before he dropped my hand. "Your mother will be worried. Go to her and forget you ever saw me." He walked back to the statue then, leaning sideways against it with his back to me.
"I will keep this meeting a secret, Monsieur, if that is what you wish. But to forget it completely, I cannot. Good night." I did not wait for him to reply before I went back down into the dormitories.
That was the first meeting. No one heard from him again for the next three months. My thoughts quickly grew from curiosity to worry, but I could do or say nothing for fear of betraying the secret. And so I busied myself with dancing and making my costume for the New Year's Masquerade Ball. I smiled cheerfully and listened to my mother closely, but always, always in the back of my mind was that one burning question. Where was he?
A few times, I was able to sneak away to the rooftop, just to see if he was there. Only once did I feel like I was being watched. It was sunset. I felt his eyes burning a hole through me, and yet he managed to keep himself well-hidden from me, despite the fact that I searched everywhere twice. He had to be smirking at me, or at least laughing inside at my feeble attempt. Frustrated, I called out into the color-striped sky, "I know you're here! I have not forgotten you…I just wanted to know if you're all right!" My cry was met with silence, and I shivered in the early winter air. "Fine then. I feel you here, so I know you're safe. Good night, then, Monsieur. And Merry Christmas." I set down my small gift in the snow then. It was not much, as I was far from being an artist or wealthy, but I hoped he would appreciate it. It was an old scarf, discarded from the Opera House wardrobe. With a little cleaning and mending, it was returned to its original crimson red shade. I glanced around once more before the winter chill drew me back inside.
Three days later, I returned to my dorm room to find a beautiful black hair ribbon sitting on my pillow. It was too late for me to scurry up to the rooftop, but I smiled and clutched it to my chest, vowing to thank him someday.
The night of the Masquerade Ball was soon upon us. I picked up my mask from the dresser and peered into the mirror once more. Frowning at the image staring back at me, I decided it was as good as it was going to get and went to go find Mama.
Two hours passed uneventfully. I danced only a few times, but my mind was elsewhere. It was in the far corner of the room where Christine and the Vicomte de Chagney were sharing secrets. That used to be me. I couldn't help thinking. I was not naïve. I knew this would happen one day, when one or both of us found someone to love. Still, there was a large part of me wishing that I was still the one she shared secrets with. For the first time, I was left in the dark while she smiled secretively.
And so my mind was also on the rooftop, or wherever The Phantom was at this moment. I wished I was wearing his hair ribbon that night, but it would have conflicted with my pure white costume. Just then, when I was beginning to search for a way out, he was there, the Phantom of the Opera.
Only he was dressed all in red, save for the black belt, the off-white skull mask, and the black around his eyes. He looked around at the room from his perch at the top of the stairs, glaring, taunting, searching. His eyes fell on me, and I bit back the urge to gulp. However, except for an ever-so-slight nod in my direction, he did not acknowledge the fact that we had met and exchanged gifts. He had an agenda. He always did. And to show himself fully like this, tonight of all nights, I knew he was not there to thank me.
He was there for her…for Christine. To be sure, he spoke to the managers, to the crowd, to Carlotta and Piangi…but I knew it was coming. It was only a matter of time. Yes, his eyes found her then. And in that moment, it felt like the entire room turned to stone, save for him…save for her…it was as if they were performing an impromptu opera, and all the rest of us were forced to watch. I found myself looking into his eyes…those eyes I had only seen once before, and yet I knew them all too well. There was no doubt that he loved her. I had seen it on the rooftop as we both watched Christine and her suitor.
I had been in the shadows then, just as he was but on the other side. As they sang their declaration of love to each other, I saw his face. I saw the shock, the pain, the betrayal…the love. I was no expert on the subject, but what else could it be that caused him to turn away in pain when their lips touched…to huddle over a rejected rose in the snow…to look back up with new determination, motivated by the spark of hope that it wasn't over…that there was still a chance.
And now, as he slowly descended the staircase to her, I could see that he was taking that chance. And as I looked into his eyes, I wondered what it would be like, to be loved like that. But there was no time to dwell on my dreams and wishes, for at that moment his eyes fell to the necklace she was wearing. His face changed then, and he tore the necklace off of her. "Your chains are still mine! You belong to me!" He ran back up the stairs and disappeared in a cloud of smoke just as the Vicomte appeared out of nowhere, and he disappeared below the stairs as well before the rest of the room seemed to come out of our trance. I looked around for Mama, but she had disappeared as well. My mind then turned to thoughts of Christine's necklace. I had seen only a glimpse of it that night, and I remembered it was a simple chain with a ring on it. A ring…a diamond ring. I froze then as it hit me—she was engaged! My best friend was engaged, and she hadn't even thought to tell me!
I needed space. I did not care if he was there or not. I needed the rooftop. And so as the crowd around me scrambled around in complete chaos, I made my exit. Within minutes, I was gasping for air in the cold winter night, the only warmth on my face coming from the flow of tears streaming down. I did not care. How I felt didn't matter…it never had. And then I scolded myself for feeling this way all of a sudden…Mama had always brought me up to put others first, and I was always happy to do so. So what was so different now?
Before I could think any longer, I felt a sudden warmth wrap itself around my bare arms, and as I looked down, I saw a very familiar red cape. I turned around then. He was looking down at me, his face completely expressionless. "You should not be here, Marguerite. It is far too cold and late for a little girl like you to be out."
"I…I don't care…" I tried to sound brave, but my shivering and still-shaky voice from my tears completely destroyed that mask.
"What could you possibly have to cry about, Little Giry? I would have thought that a Masquerade Ball would be a cheerful occasion." I sensed bitterness in his voice as he spoke, but I ignored it.
"I…I'm losing her, Monsieur…I'm losing my best friend…"
"Christine? Yes I…feel as though I'm losing her too…" He looked away from me then, as if his face could show more weakness than his words already had.
"You love her…"
"More than anything." He sighed as he said this, and it was several minutes until he turned to face me again. "But where could you have possibly gotten the idea that you are losing her?"
"She kept her engagement a secret from me…she used to tell me everything, and yet she chose to keep the most important thing in her life a secret from me!" The tears returned then, and I didn't try to stop them. "And I know I should be happy for her…I'm supposed to smile and congratulate her as if nothing is wrong…but…" I lost complete control of my emotions then, and only with him slowly pulling me into an awkward hug did I keep myself from collapsing to the snow. But oh, it felt so freeing to finally say it!
"You should not be afraid to feel like this, Little Giry…sadness and anger are just as real and important as happiness. Without them, one would be quite dull…almost inhuman. But you should not blame Christine for keeping that a secret from you. She must have been afraid of how I'd react if I found out."
"But you found out anyway…" He pulled away then, reaching into his pocket to retrieve the necklace and ring. In the silence, he studied it a bit, and I saw flashes of bitterness, sadness, and love in his eyes. After a few minutes, he put the jewelry back into hiding with a sigh.
"Why did you give me that scarf?" The change of subject was so sudden that I had to think of what he was talking about. When I remembered, I shrugged.
"It was Christmas…everyone deserves a present on Christmas…" My words seemed to cause a bit of shock to him, and it took him a moment to find his voice.
"Everyone except me, Mademoiselle. I don't deserve anything but darkness. But I thank you just the same."
"Of course you deserve it, Monsieur! Why would you think such a thing?"
"Because I learned very early in life that the sight of me causes nothing but terror and disgust in everyone that has eyes to see." His hand went to his mask then, but he did not remove it. "I am much better off in hiding…"
"And yet you also believe that you deserve happiness with Christine…"
"She's different." He snapped, and then his voice softened. "I did not plan on coming into contact with her…I just happened to hear her singing in the chapel one night…I heard her sadness and wanted to comfort her."
"You're her tutor…her Angel…" The realization hit me just then, and I was surprised to hear myself give voice to it.
"Yes…she told you about me then…"
"As I said, Monsieur…she tells me everything…until now…" I sighed again, and he smiled ever so slightly.
"How do you expect her to tell you everything when you are hiding up here?" He had a point, and I bit my lower lip.
"That's true…and it is getting late…" I sighed again before handing him his cape. "Thank you, Monsieur…" He raised his eyebrow as he took his cape.
"What could I have possibly done to deserve a thank you?"
"Everything…the hair ribbon…the cape…talking to me and listening to me…everything…" I smiled then, and left him to his thoughts.
A/N: More to come soon! As I said, feedback is welcome! :)