Cheerfully Meg led Christine on a tour of the Opera house, that Christine had insisted upon even though Meg had assured her a dozen times that it was still the same. "Christine you have not spoken a word since you requested to see the theatre again, are you alright?" Meg asked curiously.
"Meg, was-" Christine stopped herself for a moment before going on, "was my room burned when the fire…" she trailed off as Meg realized what Christine was up to.
"Christine whether it was or not, I wouldn't know. I haven't visited that room since the night of the fire. Would you like to visit it?" Meg asked her slowly.
Christine sighed and shook her head. "No, my heart still bleeds and the thorn has not yet been removed; nor has the wound healed. Has the Phantom been here the whole time? Or has he just returned from his hiding place?"
Meg's eyes widened slightly. "I don't know Christine. I've never seen him. But once in a while you can hear him playing his organ quite vigorously. He's in pain Christine, you can hear it in his music. Did you come back for him?" Christine sighed, knowing this question would have been asked sooner or later.
"Please don't ask me that right now Meg. I wouldn't even be able to answer your mother if she asked me. Just please for now, do not tell anyone of our conversation. Even if anyone can hear us right now." Christine looked sad for a moment then brightened. "Do you think they are done in the theatre for now? I have to sing." Meg hesitated for a moment then nodded.
"For him?"
"Yes, Meg- for him."
She found him hunched over the organ, his hands hesitantly held over the keys as if in search for some sort of solace. "Erik, you do know she's back."
He whirled around the lines of anger evident on the unmasked side of his face; the darkened face of fury a deep contrast to the white half mask. "Madame, unless there is another ghost in this opera house in this theatre then I doubt anyone could have written that note." The fires of Don Juan smoldering in his eyes from being beaten at his own game- Antoinette could easily see the injury of his self pride, and the sadness that lay beneath from what he had assumed was a form of betrayal.
"So you will not see her? Will you not at least stay in Box 5 while she is my guest? Or will you try to frighten her away as you tried with Raoul?"
"Do not ever speak of that… boy! It is because of the Vicomte that I do not have the Madame in my arms at this moment."
"Madame? Erik you are mistaken, she is not married to him. She is- as she always was- Mademoiselle Daae. Did you not hear her this afternoon?"
"Yet she left with him! They sang their song while they left! That boy was her lover, she is no longer mine!" The Phantom cried out miserably as his hands discovered another mournful chord within the black and white keys.
"If I had not seen the heart-broken look Mademoiselle Daae had on her face when she left that night, I would agree." Madame Giry said shortly.
"You were there with her that night? What happened?"
"That, she will have to tell." Madame Giry said calmly, hinting that for him to know
"But she left! She left the monstrosity behind and went off with her perfect childhood friend. Even she herself said that my face was distorted! She does not care for her Angel of Music anymore! I am not her Angel of Music."
"She said that it was your soul, not your face. She always was the pure one, was she not monsieur? Seeing deeper beneath the skin for the soul that lived in all of us. And as for your saying that she does not care," Madame Giry paused as she strained to hear the music from above. "I believe she has entirely different feelings from your assumption."
Upon Christine's request, Meg had left. Christine knew that only she could do this and she alone would do this. She needed him back. "If only you had not pushed me into the arms of another, Angel." She said out loud to the dark silence, "But I know when I am not wanted and have just come to say my good byes. After that I will not set foot inside here again if that is still your wish, Monsieur." Quietly she began to sing the song that she had sung to her father's grave, but this time, dedicated to another important man in her life.
You
were once my one companion . . .
you were all that mattered . .
.
You were once a friend and teacher -
then my world was
shattered . . .
Wishing
you were somehow here again . . .
wishing you were somehow near .
. .
Sometimes it seemed,
if I just
dreamed,
somehow you would be here . . .
Wishing
I could hear your voice again . . .
knowing that I never will . .
.
My thoughts of you won't help me through
all of this time
alone . . .
Wandering
through this place my home,
i was close, so near you,
What they
said was all so wrong -
you were warm and gentle . . .
Too
many days fighting back tears . . .
Why can't the past just die .
. .?
Wishing you were somehow here again . . .
knowing we must
say goodbye . . .
Try
to forgive . . . teach me to live . . .
give me the strength to
try . . .
No
more memories,
no more silent tears . . .
No more gazing
across
the empty time . . .
Help me say goodbye
Help me say good bye.
Shakily collapsing onto the stage, her sobbing seemed to bring her song to a close. "No more Angel of Music. No more tears, no more pleads for forgiveness, I understand all of this now. It is time I moved on." Getting up she left the stage rushing through the doors of the main theatre not even noticing Madame Giry by the door gaping at her outburst of affection for the Opera Ghost.
"Christine, there is rehearsal tomorrow. Join us- you may be able to help with the new chorus girls." Madame Giry called after her. Christine stopped and turned around to face Madame.
"I would be honored to Madame Giry, but I will already be out tomorrow. There is a score I must settle with an old friend- or should I say an old patron."
"Raoul de Chagny? Why? So that you may run to him and not face what you knew would come?"
"No Madame! Do not have so little faith in me. He has been looking for someone and not that I have found her, it seems that my time in Paris may come to an end a lot shorter than I expected." Christine snapped. "I thought I might have been forgiven, but it seems that that will never happen. Send your patron my congratulations for finally having his theatre in his hands."
"At least stay tonight Mademoiselle Daae. Your old room has never been touched. The ghosts will probably not annoy you for one night and you must join us tonight for dinner." Madame Giry desperately tried to persuade her. Christine looked hesitant as if scared what she might be confronted with.
"I guess one night would not hurt Madame. Thank you for you gracious hospitality. There is one place in this the theatre I must visit. And then I shall come with you to dine."
Before Madame Giry could protest, Christine had gone up the stairs towards the roof. Madame Giry smiled. It seems Miss Daae forgets who knows everything that happens in the theatre.
The sun seemed to hold her in place for a long time as she watched the sun and all of Paris begin to sleep. Humming the duet from Don Juan Triumphant she began to recall her part of sensual steps and she danced about the space on the roof pretending to be in the arms of her Don Juan. She smiled to herself as she recalled the many nights her Angel of Music had trained her in the chapel and other various places. She stopped suddenly. "Yet you still have a hold on me. I thought good byes meant a farewell forever to memories that are so unwelcome." Softly, so very softly she sang:
Angel
of Music!
I denied you,
turning from true beauty . . .
Angel
of Music!
My protector . . .
Come to me, strange
Angel . . .
Still nothing. Why would he not come to her? "Little Lotte thought of everything and nothing. Her Father promised her that he would send her the Angel of Music…" Christine said out loud, as tears sprang from her eyes, "Her father promised her."
I
remember
there was mist . . .
swirling mist
upon a vast,
glassy lake . . .
There were candles
all around
and on the
lake there
was a boat,
and in the boat
there was a man . . .
"No, not a man- an Angel of Music." she whispered to herself fiercely as the tears rolled down her cheeks. "An angel who now denies my presence."
Meg Giry did not know what to expect after the escapade of being shooed out of the theatre by Christine. But she did know that Christine didn't want to leave. She had run to the managers, pleading for them to let Christine stay, and arguing that the Phantom had said the Vicomtessa was not invited to stay- not Christine Daae! And for them to think- once Paris found out that Christine had been told to leave, there may be an uproar. She was a diva, might as well have her stay until the Phantom personally told her to leave. After an hour of debating the managers had agreed: Miss Daae could stay if she so pleased, as long as she sang to an audience.
Rushing back to the ballerinas' quarters, she found Christine sitting on her bed, trying hard not to show that she had cried. "I have talked to the managers Christine, and they have said that you can stay as long as you sing."
"I have not sung an aria or opera for some time now Meg. The last time was Don Juan. Oh I forgot to tell you the news! Raoul is coming an-"
Meg cut her off "The Phantom will not allow him to stay. He will most likely be hung before he can step one foot inside his theatre. You have caused enough trouble between two men- why repeat the past?"
"But that's just it Meg, he isn't here to see me. He's here to see you!" Christine exclaimed as Meg jumped up happily. Her two best friends married together- Christine thought- that would be perfect. Well actually second to perfect. Perfect would be her and- "Argh! Why can't he stay out of my head!"
"Who Christine?"
"The Angel of Music sings songs in my head." Christine sang quietly repeating it louder once more. "It seems no matter where I go, he follows me."
"Christine when you said you wrote poetry- what did you write about."
Christine blushed, shaking her head as her brown locks flung out as emphasis and giggled.
"Not him!" Meg cried out shocked.
"About the rose, the music, his mask, him." Together they both laughed until someone cleared their throat. "Madame Giry, where have you been? I have seen the nicest view from the rooftops and- Madame Giry, what is it?"
"It seems someone else enjoyed the view up on the roof top as well." Madame Giry said slowly as she held out the greatest gift that Christine could have ever imagined. A rose tied with a black silk ribbon. Eagerly Christine reached out to take it, only to recoil as drops of blood now formed on her hand. He had left the thorns on the rose- something he had never done before. "He welcomes you to his opera house and has given you permission to sing. But he will not train you nor single you out any longer, though he does demand that as a payback for his teaching, you must audition for every opera and accept each part given to you. He also requests for you to not try and see him, or he will be angry if you do. I'm sorry my dear." Christine bit her lip. This was the price she had to pay. She had broken her chains to the Phantom and now they were dangled precariously at the verge of crumbling into dust.
"I understand, Madame. Tell him that I accept his terms and that I will sing when he requires me to."
"You may tell him yourself child, he is in the theatre at this moment."
