To hear you sing... Oh, Christine, it's like listening to a voice of an angel. Your voice is so pure and bright and beautiful, just like you. You stand on the stage, your head held high and you sing... And the audience simply listens. There are no whispers, no yawns. They're stunned by your voice and beauty. They listen, knowing that there will never be a moment like this again. No moment equals hearing the voice of an angel. They listen and they fall in love with your voice.
They listen... And I listen. I sit in my box, the box number five, and look through the curtains. And I see you, my angel. The audience is just beginning to fall in love with you, but I have loved you... I think I have loved you all my life, even before I saw you for the first time. I have always known that there is someone for me, someone whose beauty can hide my ugliness, someone whose voice can soothe my soul and take away my dark dreams. You are that person Christine. I love you, but I can never have you.
You are an angel. You belong to heaven, to the world of beauty and light. I am a creature of darkness, I belong to places where the only light comes from flickering candles and where shadows hide my deformed face. Darkness isn't as terrible as you would think, my angel. It's soft and friendly, it keeps me safe from the world that calls me a monster only because of my face, not bothering so see my soul. My soul yearns to be in your world of beauty and light, but it can never be so. I wish things were differently, but...
The song is over. You smile at the cheering audience, enjoying their attention. I take one last look at you and leave, hurrying down to my dark home before anybody sees me. I hear the applause and think of your smile. Thought of your smile will bring light in my dark home.
Here I am now, in my home. I look around at the dozens of candles and start lighting them one by one. Slowly their light conquers the darkness and after lighting the last one I sit by my table. My unfinished opera is on the table, waiting for me to finish it. I should continue writing it, but I can't stop thinking about your smile. I stare at the notes, thinking what it'll be like when it's finished and you stand on the stage singing it. Singing my dark music with a voice of an angel.
I get up, leaving the papers on the table. I've been teaching you so long and you've learned so much, but there is a test to take before your education is over. I want you to come here, to my dark lair. I want you to see me, to talk to me and I want to... No. What if I stain your heavenly light with my dark music? What if you'll never accept me? What if you hate me like all those other people I have loved?
I love you, Christine. You are my everything, my angel. Is it possible for you to save me from this darkness, to love me and let me reach heavens with you? I am a ghost, the phantom of the opera as everybody calls me, a creature of darkness. Can your light save me, Christine? Do you wish to save me? Could you ever love me, my angel? Could you? I need to know.
You will finally see me. And if you are not scared, if you can see beyond my mask and face into my soul, maybe there is hope even for creatures of the dark. See me, my angel, and save me.