AN: I own nothing from Phantom of the Opera (even though the thought of owning Erik is pretty darn cool). Some music here is directly from that production; other has been either based off of said songs and modified or independently written- by me- for this fiction. All characters here are modeled after the characters of the original musical. As for version, this is based off of the 2004 ALW Movie, since it's all I've seen. Don't throw bananas (or penguins, for that matter!) and I promise I'll be a good little girl and buy the book some day. As for reviews- I welcome them- as long as they aren't flames, I am open to advice! I may even do like other authors here- you know, give a little blurb at the beginning of each update to answer questions and the like. As for updates... Can't promise every day. Or even every week. They'll come as... inspiration strikes. Hope I don't keep any readers too bothered by my sporadic tendencies! And now, for our featured presentation: "Why".
Chapter One: A Pitch Too Low, a Song Too Strange
I knew there was something wrong, but I could not tell quite what. I had walked in the room alone, and there had been no one else there, but... I felt someone.
"Silly, Christine, that's what you are." I pushed such thoughts to the back of my mind and took a long, even breath to begin my scale exercises. Satisfied that I had gotten high enough to get the last note of my latest vocal endeavor, I began singing the song: Think of Me.
Think of me, think of me fondly, when we've said goodbye
Remember me once in a while please promise me you'll try
When you find that once again you long to take your heart back and be free
If you ever find a moment, spare a thought for me...
I closed my eyes, blocking off the sea of black marks on the sheet music before me. I could sing this without it.
We never said our love was evergreen or as unchanging as the sea
But if you can still remember, stop and think of me
Think of all the things we've shared and seen
Don't think about the way things might have been...
Will there ever be someone who thinks of me like that?
Think of me, think of me waking, silent and resigned
Imagine me, trying too hard to put you from my mind
Recall those days. Look back on all those times. Think of the things we'll never do
There will never be a day when I won't think of you...
Someone I'll love so much it hurts to say goodbye? Or is the only person who could be like that already gone?
Flowers fade, the fruits of summer fade.
They have their season, so do we.
But please promise me that sometimes,
You will think
I steeled my stomach and took in an even breath, my voice strengthening through the scaling ah's that came next.
of... me!
I polished off the last note and listened as it bounced off the concrete walls, before opening my eyes again to the dim light. I studied the room I had chosen for the time. Plain, concrete walls painted off white, as was most of this building. The room was temperate, but after singing I was glad that my long, russet-brown curls were tied back off my face. If you stood at the door, two chairs, a broken music stand, and a small table were to one side, a file cabinet and my bookbag, along with my music portfolio to the other, and a wall-mounted full length mirror sat in the middle of the wall opposite. I couldn't see it's practical purpose, other than to allow a musician to self-correct posture, or- in Carlotta's case, I thought- to primp and admire oneself. At least it did make the little square room bigger. The dimming fluorescent light at the ceiling did barely enough to light the room properly.
"Now... to tune, and then again." I talk to myself often- it's my way of reassuring myself that I was actually there, and a concrete way of reminding myself to stay on task. My tuner was still in my pocket; I retrieved it and listened to the even, synthetic tone and matched my voice to the first note of the song.
"Darnit! I thought I had it, too."
I'd been singing the song a whole pitch lower than it should have been sung. Looking back I remember thinking the last bit of the ah's- from the last "of"- had come a bit easier than past times, but I credited it to practice. I now- miserably- knew exactly where to credit it. I couldn't help myself... tears welled up in my eyes and the room blurred, and then—
"Christine..."
My eyes snapped open. I had barely formed a word on my lips when I heard... it... again.
"Child of the light
Why are you weeping?
An Angel sheds tears for you.
"Wipe off the past
In tears that haunt you
Sing for your Angel."
I sat down hard; my breath did not want to come. I felt dizzy, and then, before the room had spun even twice, unforgiving blackness overcame me.
There. Not too bad for a first effort, I hope! Remember, show the love, and leave a review!
Erik: Indeed! She likes reviews!
Me: -groan- Great, now I have my own little CommentErik, too.
Erik: -Un-Erik-like smirk- Uh-huh.
Me: -dies of smirkness-
Erik: -pokes- "..."
Me: -squeal- I got poked by Erik! pounce-glomp-huggle
Erik: -squeak- 'Elp!