Author's note: Hey guys! advance thank you for reading this, my first ever fanfic. I'll try to upddate as soon as I can. P.S: Leave a review, if not better keep your hands at the level of your eyes.(Kidding!^_^) P.P.S: I changed the prologue into a first person narration. You might also experience this in later chapters. But the others(unless their noted) will remain in third person.
Disclaimer: I do not own anything...
Prologue: Vicomtess Christine Daae de Chagny
Sixteen years it has been since the curtain fell its last .Sixteen years it had been since the story had ended, but never the mystery. And I was a part of it, a major role that I never wished for. Now that the years have passed, I did what every performer would do; to find a new story. Gladly, I am proud to say I have found one. The one that I got to cherish as time came by.
I sat by the balcony of the master bedroom in the de Chagny mansion; calm yet disturbed, silent but in pain. My mind is racing through the pages of the story that I read. I stopped to place the book down and my glasses above it to let my eyes and conscience rest. I went to the bathroom to wash my face as if I woke from a terrible nightmare.
"That wasn't a very good idea." I said to myself facing the mirror, realizing how naïve was I in my youth. I was twenty and ignorant and now, I'm thirty-six; a woman of my word; a vicomtess, a wife and a mother as well.
I went back to my usual place at the balcony and relaxed upon the elegant views of Paris. How I missed this place and I said I wouldn't. I guess this "song bird of Europe" wanted her nest more than the top branch of the highest tree in the music industry. Life of being an Opera singer after all this years is harder than I thought. But of course how should I know? I was young, barely a lady, too curious and excited on many things.
Crash
"Martha?"
"Yes, Vicomtess?"
"What was the noise from down there? Was it from the library again?"
"Master Gustave threw another book on the window."
"What's the title?"
"I haven't seen it yet Madame."
"Fine, go on. And if you would ever cross Le Grand Meaulnes by the cherry tree, kindly return it to me. I haven't finished it and Gustave had already thrown it by the window last week. If the new one is les miserables also hand it to me."
Oh, my goodness; another window broken. I took a sip of tea to calm my nerves down. Gustave should stop taking these nobility lessons; it's just making him worse. Well, that's my son. If he doesn't want it, he doesn't and never will. Not a spoiled brat kind but rather a mister-I-know-everything-I- don't-need-this -anymore type. Ah, my son. Intelligent, talented, a prodigy and how awful it is too think that these are the reasons for his misbehaving but sometimes he can be very kind and awfully considerate. Maybe there are just reasons why things are just like this.
Well at least he's doing something like he's busy sober father who will be joining us for dinner for the first time in the entire month. Unlike me; staring stupidly at this book , hesitating if I am to continue it or not. Instead, I stood up, and took the packaging from the opera that came just this morning. though I still can't believe Raoul actually allowed me to do this again. I decided not to open until dinner; I know Gustave will love this and especially his friend Alice who will be with us. I studied the whole thing wondering why it has to be this big when it only must contain two letters as I expected. Then I guess my curiosity will be answered later. I guess I am just too excited to return at the opera tomorrow morning.
How I always wondered what it would look like; after all these years, what had changed and what did not. Who would be the new ones, and what has time did to the old ones. How has the trembling walls of fear had finally went down along with the fire. How would things be now that ghost that haunts the innocent is now gone. How would things be—how would I be, if he's no longer there.
I sighed at my terrible realization. How would my voice soar to the place where it all began, when the one who gave it to me is dead.
I remember seeing that advertisement that announced that he is gone, how that advertisement haunts my mind as if it was my own death sentence; "Erik is dead". Just after a week of my marriage the news of his demise broke out along with my heart. I thought I would be relieved but it was rather it was pain. It was expected yet I was still shocked. I knew that I should have listened to the Persian that visited me before my wedding, that day when he told me everything what Erik had said to him. He warned me but I never believed him. All he wanted was to prepare me from the pain that I thought that I could bear. Somehow, like where I am good at, I made it worse in my own way.
"That night." I said under my breath. I guess fears had turned into tears as tiny droplets of guilt rolled on my cheeks. The two droplets of tears fell down at the book's cover. I stared at the note that was on top of it.
"To Madame Vicomtess Christine de Chagny,
Please accept this copy of Le Fantome del Opera as a token of my gratitude to your kind and just cooperation.
Sincerely,
Gaston Leroux.
1910"
One chapter is left for me to read. But should I? When the Daroga had already narrated to me every single detail before it could ever be written? But then again, in this book, it will never contain the story that I had made; a new beginning within an ending.
I stood up from my chair and went inside the bedroom. I had decided not to read the last chapter of Le Fantome del Opera. I won't deny, though this story is tragic, without it, I will never be able to reach the position where am I now. What ever happened in this one cannot ever be changed. What happened is what had happened. There were lost, death, broken hearts and revenge but all of these are nothing but lessons to learn on. I opened a special cupboard near the bed containing my copy of the Don Juan triumphant, old costumes and other things that made me remember him. I placed the book inside it and took out a necklace with a ring as its pendant.
"Past is past." I said as I wore the necklace around my neck. The book of the phantom of the opera might have its final pages, but its mystery will never die. Though it would be understood by those who love and appreciates the night as it is besides from its darkness. An important detail I wish to understand as well for the past years.
A sound of the mansion organ playing occupied the entire mansion with an unfathomable feeling; terrified, amazed or glazed with curiosity. A sound which reminds me the end of another day, another meeting, Gustave always go straight the music room once his classes are done and surely he would be with his best friend Alice. Yet, it was also an alarm of the secret I am to keep, with guilt but never with regret. Only it will be revealed when time its self is ready to bear it. The mystery shall live on as I should as well. The reopening of the opera is the perfect opportunity yet also a perfect bait. Till then I shall see, what the future beholds to me after all this years. Would the darkness fade completely or return to me? Or would I finally understand it. How shall I see the beauty underneath.
Here it is! I changed the prologue to make it at least more interesting. To those who have read the 1st version, please tell me what do you think about the changes. Thanks!
