I lay against the far wall of the infamous Opera Ghost's underground lair. It seemed as if now I was nothing to him. For days now he has ignored me. I have not received one caress, not one touch from his hands. Do I mean so little to him now? Was I just something for him to pass his fancy with until he could make himself known to that … that girl?
Why does he not love me anymore? I have given him such beautiful music. I have never let him down, always putting my everything into his songs. All I want to do is make him proud of me.
And now as I lay in the dark corner, Erik walks right past me. I want to scream out to him, but I just cannot. He would never hear me. Oh, how I wish I could just reach out to him. 'Touch me; play with me; LOVE ME!'
He's upset, I can tell. I always know what he is feeling. In our time together we had become so attached. But now … now it seemed as if we were growing apart.
"Oh, my fear friend," Erik said, and I could only guess he was talking to me. My assumptions were proven correct as I was picked up by the only man in my life.
Is there a better feeling that being caressed by the one you love? Even better is this feeling when I now know that I have not been abandoned. The light kisses Erik graced my neck with told me as much.
"It's been so long, my love," Erik whispered to me. "Will you play for me now?"
Oh, if he only knew that I would play for him until the end of the world! I would do anything for him; make any noise he commanded of me.
He pulled his bow across me, telling me what he wished for me to play. With just one touch from him I knew exactly what he wished of me. I poured everything I had into his heartbroken melody. It did not matter that no one else ever listened to me; it only mattered that I pleased The Phantom of the Opera.
And as I graced his depressed song with music, I found myself wishing to weep. I knew what this was about. That girl Christine has hurt him once more. She is not deserving of him, only I am. Can he not see that? Only I know what sounds Erik wished to hear. Only I know the depth of his pain; therefore only I could be his true companion.
I continued on with Erik's music, performing it to perfection. With each stroke he gave me I responded immediately. I did not miss one note, not a one. That is better that what his student could ever do.
The song came to a close and Erik placed me down gently. "You are always there for me, my friend," he whispered to me. "Thank you."
Yes, I am always here, and I always shall be here. No one could ever wish to take my place. I am forever my master's violin!
Fin