A/N- I had the inspiration for this after listening to Michael Crawford singing some Disney songs. I thought, why not do a Phantom Fiction? Well, this is the end result. I don't own anything.
It was just like any other day at the opera for one Christine Daae. The Opera House had reopened just a few short years after the disaster that was Don Juan. She had insisted upon returning to her position after the grand reopening. After much discussion with her husband, her position as prima donna had become hers once again after the Opera House had only been open one month. The daily activities of the Opera House had resumed. She was now looking forward to the annual Halloween Ball that was to be held. It had been quite some time since she had heard from the mystery that was the Phantom of the Opera. It wasn't like she was complaining, for she was able to spend time undisturbed with Raoul. At the same time, she did somewhat miss the man. He had such a wonderful voice. Then again, a voice couldn't make up for his actions.
Well, she had planned on spending a nice little evening with Raoul. That wasn't going to happen though, as an unseen visitor to the Ball planned on showing up. No one would question a masked man at a Halloween Ball. He, of course, couldn't very well show up as the Phantom or as Red Death, though he doubted that no one else would dress up like the infamous Opera Ghost. They all believed him to be dead. It was quite laughable, really.
The Ball had begun. Everyone who was anyone had shown up. Those from the old Opera House had come in addition to the new smiling faces. All were dressed to the heights of Parisian fashion with matching masques to match. Sure, this wasn't the more-popular Masquerade Ball, but that didn't prevent the people from dressing to the nines. They all filed in, flashing their tickets to the guard that had been posted at the entrance. The Managers insisted upon having increased security. Neither wanted to have a repeat of the last time they had held a Ball. Sadly, their security was wasted. The very man they hoped was long dead was already inside, completely unnoticed by those around him.
He was dressed just as any other man at this Ball. He wore a black tuxedo, complete with dark red cravat. The combed back wig was, of course, a given. He couldn't very well mingle about without looking half way decent. The only thing that set him apart was his mismatched eyes and his height. Other than that, the full black masque hid his identity. It really wasn't very difficult to trick the Opera workers. Had they truly thought a broken heart would kill him? Certainly not. But the past was something that he wanted to avoid tonight, though. It was time to see just what the new Opera Company had to offer.
Christine was less than happy. Raoul was sick and she was stuck here all on her own. She had to come due to her position. As she mingled with the various people, one man had seemed to have taken a liking to her. He was dressed as a gypsy and had painted tattoos all over his face. He continued to follow her around, asking for multiple dances. To say the least, the man was starting to become a little more than annoying. When the man had her backed against a wall with an odd look in his eyes, Christine began to fear for her own safety. No one noticed that she had disappeared into this dark alcove. This man would be able to do anything he wanted with her and no one but she would know of it. And that was exactly what the man had planned.
The one dressed as a gypsy wouldn't get his chance to take advantage of this woman. He was suddenly pulled away from her. Christine could make out the outline of another man who was sending the man on his way. She smiled as she approached the man, who was keeping his back to her.
"Monsieur?" she questioned, a hand reaching up to his shoulder to turn him to face her. Seeing those mismatched eyes once again filled her with a moment of fear, only for it to be replaced by happiness. Well, at least he wasn't dead. "You saved me?"
"You expect me to allow men to continue to try and harm women in my Opera House?" came the reply. He certainly hadn't expected to be saving Christine. He had merely seen an odd character pulling a woman along with him. Like he told her, he couldn't very well allow for the women of this Opera House to be harmed by men. The fact that he had saved Christine made little difference to him now. She was just the prima donna here. He was not about to allow himself to have any sort of attachment to the woman.
Christine smiled at him, taking his arm in a friendly matter. "Well, then I thank you for your services. It's good to know that you're still here."
"Is it?" he questioned, looking from her hand on his arm to her face. If this were another time, he would have reveled in her touching him. Now her touch only brought back memories of what a fool he was. Why would a woman such as she want to be near a man like him?
Her smile only brightened as she nodded, completely unaware of all of his thoughts. "I'm just happy to see a face that I recognize. Raoul is sick at home."
"My face? Yes, I suppose that it is something most difficult to forget," he answered. He led her back into the ballroom. Everyone was dancing, having the times of their lives. The odd pair ended up getting swept into the dance.
Christine was surprised at how well he could move her around the dance floor. Then again, he was a master at everything and dance was a simple extension of music. It was only logical that he would be talented at this. She tried to smile at him; she tried to be friendly with him by complimenting his dancing skills. He only gave a curt thank you before continuing on in their movements. It was only after the dance came to an end and she was led off the dance floor to a near-by table that she realized that the Phantom no longer cared for her. It was quite upsetting.
"You should be safe now, Christine," the Phantom told her, turning his back to her. He needed to close the door on his past and start things anew with the fresh company that the managers had hired. Dealing with Christine certainly wasn't allowing him to do so. She would be the prima donna, yes, but he wouldn't pay her any special attention during practice. She would know her part. It was time to move on. Without another word to the woman, he left. He seemed to melt into the shadows until he could no longer be made out amongst the crowd.
Christine stared openly at the blank spot that was once the Opera Ghost. He was gone from her life, even with him still living in the Opera House. He had decided to let her go those few years ago, but she had suspected that if they ever met again he would at the least be her friend. She knew differently now. He wanted nothing to do with her. She couldn't blame him after causing him such pain. Still, realizing that her Angel of Music had effectively "dropped her as a client" was hard. She would continue on in her work at the Opera House if only for the Phantom. She owed him that much.