A/N: Yay! New phanfiction! So, I'm really excited about this story. It's different from Forever my Angel, but I've been having a lot of fun writing it. Enjoy the first chapter!
"Newcomer to the opera scene, Christine Daaé, makes her debut tonight with a solo performance. Will this young starlet manage to shine among some of the best voices in the business?"
- NY Times
Christine's POV
The curtain closed, leaving me veiled in the darkness as the thunderous sounds of applause faded into the murmur of the audience's conversations. For a moment I just stood there, my hands shaking, as I began to comprehend that I had just made my debt – something that I had always dreamed of, something that had kept me going through even the darkest times of my life. I had just sung for an audience. A huge audience. And better yet, they didn't seem to hate me.
I made my way slowly through backstage towards the dressing room that I had been given, everyone stopping me to congratulate me and tell me how beautifully I had sung. "Christine!" I turned at the sound of my name as Meg Giry ram up to greet me, pulling me into a tight hug. "Christine, that was fantastic! You never told me you could sing like that! I mean, I knew you were good, but the way you sang tonight, that was just… something else."
I smiled at my best friend. "You really think it was good?"
"Christine, 'good' does not even begin to describe your voice. I'm sure the press is going to be all over it – a beautiful young opera star with an unearthly voice! You'll be famous!" I laughed at Meg's enthusiasm as she assumed a reporter-like stance. "So tell me, Miss Daaé," she said in her mock-reporter voice. "What's your secret?"
"Just a good teacher, I guess," I said, trying to sound nonchalant. It was more than that, but I knew he didn't like to be talked about.
"Who is your teacher?" Meg asked, suddenly intrigued.
"He knew my father," I said. "He visited us once in a while when I was little, and he's taught me music ever since my father died." I hoped that Meg would drop the subject – I didn't want to have to admit that that was all I knew about my teacher.
"Really," Meg said, her voice making it clear that I had failed to disinterest her. "What's he like? How does he teach you? Is he handsome?"
"Meg!" I laughed.
"What? I'm just trying to prepare you. Now that you're practically a star, people are going to want to know these things. I mean, come on, a gorgeous young girl with an amazing voice coming out of nowhere, unwilling to comment on where she learned to sing like that… It's so mysterious and exciting!"
"I think you're overestimating the impact of my performance," I said. "No one will think twice about me."
"Christine, I saw the audience," Meg insisted. "I saw their faces. They did not look like they were just going to forget about you. This is not going to blow over. You're going to be famous!"
As we walked, a young, good-looking boy passed by us, winking at me. I looked away, blushing, while Meg giggled. We had reached my dressing room now, and I invited Meg in to sit with me. We both gasped when we saw, among a few other vases of flowers, a single red rose with a silky black ribbon tied in a bow around the stem laying on the vanity. The rose was fragrant and in full bloom, and Meg and I each pressed the soft petals to our noses to inhale the sweet scent.
"There's no note," Meg noticed. "I wonder who it's from…"
I knew who it was instinctively. "Him," I said, and when Meg looked at me, added, "My teacher."
Meg said nothing, and she looked to be deep in thought about something. She brushed away my question when I asked if something was wrong. She seemed about to say something when there was a knock at the door.
"Oh!" I gasped when I opened it. There stood the boy from earlier, the one who had winked at me, nearly hidden behind a vase of pink flowers.
"Raoul de Chagny," he introduced himself, holding out his hand to me while I wondered where on earth he even found a vase of flowers that big and gaudy. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything."
I was speechless for a moment, struck by his California-surfer-boy good looks and the fact that this boy actually wanted to talk to me. "Christine," I managed to say after a minute, placing my hand in his. He raised it to his lips and kissed it lightly, and I blushed furiously, to which he responded with a confidant, lopsided grin. "This is my friend, Meg Giry," I stammered, turning to Meg.
"I was just leaving," she said quickly. I scowled at her, making her teasing grin grow wider. "Have a nice night, Christine, see you at home," she called back as she hurried off, leaving Raoul and I alone in my dressing room.
I had never been good around boys. I was never confidant and outgoing like Meg. I had always just let her get all the attention, and now I was at a complete loss for what to do. I fiddled awkwardly with my hair while Raoul, comfortable as ever, put the vase of flowers on my vanity and proceeded to make himself at home as he sprawled out on the small sofa. "You were great tonight," he said. I was thankful that at least he seemed to know how to make small talk as I sat down across from him. His gaze travelled down to my hands. "Who's that from?"
I realized that I was still holding the rose, threading the ends of the black ribbon around my fingers. "No one," I said quickly.
Raoul shrugged at my reply and continued talking. "My parents and I are big supporters of the arts," he said, "so I'll be coming around here a lot." I nodded. The ease that he seemed to feel was definitely not contagious. "I'm actually just heading out to dinner," he continued. "Want to come? I could introduce you to a lot of people – I'm sure everyone will want to meet opera's new star."
Did he really just ask me to go to dinner with him? "I'm sorry, I really can't tonight…"
"Nonsense, of course you can," Raoul said as he stood to leave. "You should change. I'll be back to come pick you up in five minutes."
"No, Raoul wait…" I called out to him, but he had already left, closing the door behind him. The lights flickered, then went out, leaving only a very dim light in the room.
Erik's POV
I watched as the boy left, as confidant as ever at his ability to make girls fall at his feet. But not my Christine. She leaned back in her chair and sighed, running the tips of her fingers along the petals of the rose that I had left for her. "You did well, my dear," I said, throwing my voice so it sounded like a whisper in her ear. Upon hearing me, she sat up straighter, instantly alert. "I am pleased with you."
She smiled modestly. "Thank you, master." Then she added shyly, "I sang for you. I sang my very best." She paused, looking around the room from where she sat. "Do you think you could come out from… wherever you are?" she asked. "I feel like I'm talking to myself."
I chuckled and stepped out of the shadows. When she saw me she smiled nervously, just as she always did. "Do I frighten you, child?" I asked, amused.
Christine was silent for a moment. "No," she said. Then, "Well, sometimes." I chuckled again and, feeling more at ease, she continued. "You just… have a very intimidating presence to you, and I'm… I'm frightened that I might not please you."
I felt all amusement leave my expression. "You could never do anything to displease me, child," I said. "If you continue to sing for me, you will always please me."
She looked at me almost guiltily for a moment. "A boy was here earlier," she admitted. "He wanted me to go to dinner with him."
"I know."
"I told him no," she added hastily.
"I know."
She studied the floor for a minute before looking back up at me. "You won't leave me, master, will you?"
I stroked her hair gently and felt her relax at my touch. "No, my dear," I said as comfortingly as I could. "I won't leave you. I knew that you would have suitors, being such a talented, beautiful young woman –" I could sense her blushing at this, "—but you must remember my rules."
She nodded, her head bobbing up and down beneath my hand. "I'll remember."
"Come with me," I said, offering her my hand, secretly thrilled at the sensation of her warm, soft skin against my own. "There's something I want to show you." I led her to the mirror that took up almost a full wall of the dressing room. Sliding aside the glass, I lead her through to the other side. As she stepped through, the locked door began to rattle, and I could hear the boy calling out to her.
It's too late, I thought. Her mind is already mine.
So there's the first chapter! Please let me know what you think, and I will get the next chapter up soon!
