AAAAAH! Sorry. Sorry. I know I haven't updated in a while. Actually, I kinda' got pulled out of Phantom, and into the world of Wicked. Oh, well. I'm going to try to get this stroy up and finished, because I realize how many people like it. Yay! Anyway, here's the much-awaited update.
Also, I have changed my name.
Chapter 2:
The Fop and the Phantom
"Little Lotte, let her mind wander." The sudden voice made Christine cringe. "Little Lotte thought, 'Am I fonder of dolls, or of goblins, or shoes?'"
"Raoul..." Christine muttered. The Fop continued obliviously.
"Piss off, Raoul." She turned in time to see the pretty-boy start.
"What did you just say to me?"
"She said, 'Piss off!'" said a voice behind the viscount. Raoul spun on his heel to see who else was in the room. But there was no one there. Christine stifled a giggle; not only had she heard the voice, but she know who it belonged to. And that they were not in the room.
"I'm sorry," Christine said, fiegning a sudden headache. "I'm just tired."
"Oh...well...you sure you don't want to get some supper?" Christine nodded. "Oh...okay." Raoul turned and walked slowly out the door. The minute Christine heard the door click shut behind him, she sprang out of her chair and locked it behind him.. Leaning up against the door, Christine put her head in her hands and started shaking with laughter. After she calmed down, she took her hands away from face and examined her left one.
"He has to be blind, to completely miss it," she said to herself, fingering the plain gold ring on her third finger. She sighed, turning her attention to the rose on her vanity. Erik had tied a black ribbon around it. He wanted her to come down to his house on the lake, the moment she was alone. After changing into a white, lacy night gown, she went to the full-size mirror opposite the door, slid it open, and stepped into the hidden passage, being certain to close the mirror behind her.
Christine walked down the very familiar corridor, until she came to a turn. She rounded the corner, and saw a man, dressed completely in black, standing by a black horse.
"Erik!" She called out to the man. At the sound of his name, he turned and raced to Christine. When he reached her, Erik swept her into his arms, spun her around, and kissed her. After a moment, they pulled apart, and Erik took Christine's hand's in his
"Come," he said in a voice just above a whisper. He led her to the horse, helped her onto it, and then began leading it toward the lake. Christine was ancy the entire ride; she couldn't stand silence, especially between her and Erik. When they reached the lake, she jumped off the horse, loosing her balance as she did so. Erik grabbed her elbow to help steady her. He smiled.
"Be careful," he said, pulling her into a brief hug before helping her into the boat. He the then got in, picked a pole, and pushed the boat off, steering them toward the underground home.
When they finally hit the shore at the house underground, Christine stepped gracefully from the boat to the ground, turning backas Erik followed. When he had put the pole back in the boat, he took Christine by the hand, and led her to a doll-house-sized model of the Opera Populaire. On the stage of the model stood a miniature version of Christine, wearing a replica of the dress she had changed out of only minutes before. Erik picked up the miniature.
"You did very well, my dear," he said to Christine. "Everything's going according to plan, and I think they truly believe your naivety. But now," he said, putting the miniature back in its place. "We must deal with this viscount."
"Any ideas, Erik?" Christine asked, grinning.
"As a matter of fact," he said, returning her grin, "I have."
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About an hour-and-a-half later, everything had been planned. In short, Christine was to pretend to be terrified of Erik, and allow the Viscount de Chagny to think she loved him. Erik, meanwhile, would be allowed to terrify the managers for one more day before "dissapearing" for three months, during which time, he would finish his new opera, Don Juan Triumphant, giving it to the managers at the annual Masquerade Ball on New Year's.
"Erik," Christine said, laying her hand on his. "Sing to me. Like you did the first time you brought me here." Erik smiled, took Christine's hands in his, and began singing softly:
Night-time sharpens,
heightens each sensation . . .
Darkness stirs and
wakes imagination . . .
Silently the senses
abandon their defences . . .
Slowly, gently Close your eyes Softly, deftly, Let your mind Floating, falling, Erik led Christine to the swan-shaped bed and pulled her into a tender kiss. Christine pulled away after a moment. Erik looked at her, bewildered.
night unfurls its splendour . . .
Grasp it, sense it -
tremulous and tender . . .
Turn your face away
from the garish light of day,
turn your thoughts away
from cold, unfeeling light -
and listen to
the music of the night . . .
and surrender to your
darkest dreams!
Purge your thoughts
of the life
you knew before!
Close your eyes,
let your spirit
start to soar!
And you'll live
as you've never
lived before . . .
music shall surround you . . .
Feel it, hear it,
closing in around you . . .
Open up your mind,
let your fantasies unwind,
in this darkness which
you know you cannot fight -
the darkness of
the music of the night . . .
start a journey through a
strange new world!
Leave all thoughts
of the world
you knew before!
Let your soul
Take you where you
long to be !
Only then
can you belong
to me . . .
sweet intoxication!
Touch me, trust me
savour each sensation!
Let the dream begin,
let your darker side give in
to the power of the music that I write -
the power of the music of the night . . .
"What's wrong, Christine?" Christine hesitated, and then took a step back.
"It's just that, in a few months,our lives will be changed forever." Erik was only more confused by her words. Christine smiled, took his hand, and gently laid it on her stomach. Her smile grew wider at his continued confusion. "I'm pregnant, Erik." Erik's eyes widened.
"Are...are you certain?" Christine nodded.
"Absolutely." Erik laughed happily and pulled Christine into an embrace. "Oh, Erik," she sighed. "I can't imagine anyone but you being my husband."
SURPRISE! Betcha didn't see that coming. I told ya' there was going to be a surprise in the second chapter. So did you get what the whole message-thingy was about? If you didn't, you either need glasses, or you're just plain stupid. Also there was a reference from this awesome movie called "Drop-Dead Fred" in this chapter. If you catch it and tell me in your review, I'll give you a treat. And, since you guys gave me such good reviews, Erik and I shall continue beating people mercilessly. I remain, reviewers,
Your obedient author,
PE
(PhantomElphaba)