A grand performance was looming in the future for all of the opera house. The stress was rising, voices were cracking, costumes were breaking, and sets were falling apart from the constant use of them in rehearsal. Hannibal was turning out to be more of a hassle than anyone thought and the new mangers weren't doing anything to stop it. The leading soprano, Carlotta, started to become more of a diva than ever and her little minion, Piangi became quite a picky performer.
All the notes were too wrong or the costume was too tight, no matter what the problem was Carlotta and Piangi could find something to complain about. Everyone else was beyond annoyed with these two imbeciles and wanted to find a way to get rid of them. Nonetheless, the cursed "Phantom" was sure to drive them out with one of her famous tricks.
Erik, a stage hand who tended to keeping track of props and curtains, looked curiously up at the catwalks above the stage to check if Joseph Buquet was keeping up with the fly rails. He wasn't. A deep sigh escaped Erik's mouth as he left the wing and walked towards the back to the stair case. Piangi's horrific voice echoed through the thick curtains and into the back of the theater. Erik held one hand up to his ear to deafen the sound and another on the rail to keep himself from falling. However, the rail did not help much when a blaring screech came from the stage. Erik's hands flew up and his body tumbled backwards landing him straight on his bottom. Rushing, he pushed himself up and ran to see what the commotion was.
"Buquet!" André, one of the new managers, yelled for the chief stagehand.
The fat and aging man stumbled onto the stage shocked. "I was not at my post, sir," Joseph looked around at everyone. "I'm sorry." He scanned the stage for someone who could possibly know what happened. "Erik!"
Erik had just gotten to the scene and was out of breath. All he saw was Carlotta fanning Piangi who had a sand bag weight inches from his foot. Gasping, he stuttered out, "I saw that you were not up there and I was just halfway up the stairs before Piangi screamed, monsieur." He was sweating from all the eyes locked on him and shifted back behind a curtain.
"And you were all alone back there, correct?" André's partner manager, Firmin, questioned.
"Yes," He stuck out his head and slowly nodded.
"It was the Phantom!" Meg Giry, a ballet dancer, screamed. "No one could have made that weight fall besides her!" The other young ballet dancers nodded in agreement.
Piangi kicked the sand weight and ended up grabbing his foot in pain. "Messieurs! This isn't the first time that ghost has attacked against me or Carlotta!" Never had the opera singer gone off like this. "Neither you two nor the old managers did anything about this! And while this is still happening, this thing will not happen!" Piangi stormed off the stage in a fit of rage.
"He'll come back after he calms down! Don't worry everyone!" Firmin reassured the cast and crew.
"Don't be so sure of it," Carlotta sneered.
The rehearsal was dismissed early and everyone but the backstage workers and ballet dancers left. The scene shifters were busy fixing up the ruined sets and occasionally mingled with the ballet dancers eager to take a break from Madame Giry's, the ballet instructor, never ending practice schedule.
Yet, Erik was in the chapel of the opera house. Whenever he felt anxiety, stress, or any form of sadness he would go down to the room. No, he did not pray there for his lost ones, but rather felt comforted by the love everyone else had for their dead. This quiet and serene atmosphere helped him think. Since he started this method, his anger has decreased and the feeling of relaxation hovered over him, supporting him to continue his days. How this was started, Erik did not know for he had been doing it even as a child in the opera house.
Growing up in the populaire was certainly interesting and gave the young Erik a greater sense of freedom than any other child. The vast space of the whole house always left areas for exploring and the city of Paris was almost like a whole universe. Being without parents meant to him that he could go and investigate as he pleased for the only one who would care was Madame Giry. In small alleys, Erik would gather supplies for tinkering and building little contraptions to help around the opera house. Although, he also created objects to help him with his indoor safaris as well. Such as a home made graveling hook to allow the eight year-old Erik to reach the rafters from the catwalks in order to hide up on the thin beams and watch the entire backstage at work. Even some of the old creations got made into large scale and used by the stagehands.
How the little boy ended up in the opera house was truly a tragedy. Erik was abandoned as a child at an orphanage, but once he became three he ran away. Being stuck on the freezing streets was better than the poor treatment he received at the orphanage, or so he claims. On a stroke of luck, one day a rather wealthy man saw the destitute child and was forced by his empathy to take him in. Erik never really knew his name but just called him by "Sir" for all the time that he lived with the man. Sir took great care in insuring Erik was well fed and well dressed. This man was a popular one and known all over France for being one of the kindest and most funny aristocrats. The parties he held were always elegant and extravagant. Rarely did the man have over only a few people, and when he did the only attendants were the Chagnys. Count Philbert de Chagny was a grand friend of the man and had two daughters and two sons. One of the sons was one year younger than Erik and the two got along rather nicely. Withal, that all changed.
When Erik was seven, Sir left him at home with the maids while he went out for business. Two days later, they were informed that the man had died in a carriage accident. Stricken with grief and a fear of going back to the orphanage, Erik yet again ran away from his home and was found by Madame Giry. The woman discovered him while purchasing bread. Erik was busy admiring a nearby pastry that he accidentally knocked over a whole table of fresh rolls. The baker was not too pleased, but Madame Giry payed for the wasted product. After that event, Erik permanently moved into the opera house.
But there Erik sat in the chapel engulfed in his own thoughts.
How could that weight had fallen? He pondered. "How?" Erik whispered.
"Erik..." A woman's soothing voice swirled through the air.
He knew who it was, his teacher. "Madame?"
"It is me, your kind instructor," The voice once again sung. "They need a replacement for Piangi and you are perfect for the part, my dear. All my training will do you well."
"I can barely handle the eyes of three people on me let alone three thousand!"
"You can do it. You will do it."
"But! Teacher!" Erik stood up and looked around the room, but the voice was gone.
"Erik?" Little Meg peeked her head in the room. "The managers would wish to speak to you."
"Oh," He brushed off his pants and pulled on his suspenders. "I'll be right there."
The two managers welcomed Erik into their office and sat him down. They started off the conversation slow by asking how he was feeling and other common ice breakers. Erik spoke softly and held his head low answering every question. Quickly, Firmin and Andre dived into the topic of what he witnessed earlier today. They claimed that their curiosity was due to their new positions of managers for they were not used to these sort of things.
"We don't believe in all this silly Phantom business," Frimin said. "Do you?"
"Of course not, monsieur," Erik looked up.
"Great!" André clapped. "At least one of you isn't obsessed!"
"I'm sure the bag falling was due to a lose rope," Erik explained.
"If only Piangi and Carlotta would think that, too..." André sighed. "Now we need a replacement!"
"I c-could do it!" He stuttered.
Both mangers raised their eyebrows but requested him to sing. They were desperate. Erik tried his best to remember the melody of a common tune and went with a simple lullaby. What started out as unsure and crackly changed into a firm and velvet voice. Thoroughly impressed, they had him show his talent to the chorus director who in turn gave Erik the part. This came as a shock to everyone because they had never heard a voice so beautiful nor expected it to come from a scene shifter. Nonetheless, they all cheered that the show would not get canceled on a full night. Well, all besides Carlotta who believed that the part of a singer as "special" as Piangi should not be replaced with an inexperienced man such as Erik.
Over the course of rehearsals, Erik had gotten used to all eyes focusing on him. It was still hard to hit all the right notes with the pressure built, but he hit them. All of his worries seemed to fade away as the lyrics so beautifully rolled off his tongue and the tempo beat softly in his heart. No longer was he standing on an old stage surrounded by peers, but in his own little world. It made him seem like the room was his and the opera was nothing but silent. Even the whispers of the chorus couldn't get through his solid bubble of harmonic peace. And when opening night came, he was ready.
There Erik was, standing in the middle of the stage facing a huge audience dying to hear the new man sing his solo. He took deep breaths and focused on nothing but the rhythm. The prying eyes would surely had melted all his sense of security and stripped him off his dignity. That is if it wasn't for his musical shield that protected him from all stress, his voice. In confidence, Erik sang the part while staring at only one object, the chandelier. If he could tune out all the other faces and just focus on the sparkling crystals, he knew that he would never even flinch of fear. As the song came to the end, Erik put all of his faith in his final note and held it as long as his body could let him.
After he had finished, he stood there catching his breath as the audience roared showering him in affection. Gratefully, Erik held out his arms and bowed. Tears swelled up in his eyes and his self esteem shot high. Never had he felt so appreciated and respected then he had in that one moment. The audience loved him, and one in particular felt ever so proud of the signer.
Notes: This is posted on my wattpad under the same title and posted by the same user name so like don't get weirded out if you see two of these. Also, thank you for reading! I really like writing this au were Erik isn't the Phantom. It gives me more to work with and also lets me build up Erik based off other things than what the original story was given. (and no, this will not be Erik/Raoul)