Angel, I hear you

by Angel-I-Hear-You

Christine grew up with the angel of music growing up. Through her fathers music, through her dreams. Even in real life she heard his voice. As a child her and Raoul would adventure with him, but now that Raoul has met up with Christine 10 years later at the opera, she can still hear and see her angel of music. It seems as though her imagination won't let go of her. Leroux Based.

2. Chapter 2

Raoul

Christine had not recognized me! My heart sunk as she claimed that she had not known me, and asked that I be escorted out! I paced around my chamber like a mad man, dizzy with confusion. At one point I even tried sitting out on the balcony for some fresh air, but I was ruined. After all those moments we shared together in our youth, how could she not have remembered me? Surely this was some sort of jest, some silly game. I ran back inside and called for a young popper boy, and pulled out some francs. I immediately wrote her a letter, asking if she would explain the meaning behind the joke… That I was eager to meet up with her, to catch up with old times. I told the boy to hurry up and get it to her. And then I sat down in my new chair that my brother had shipped over and had my first sip of a stronger alcohol.

Christine

The angel of music I had grown to love came to me in the form of the phantom of the opera! I wasn't afraid though. From the very depth of my being I knew that he was my angel of music. My hand fit perfectly in his as he led me through this unexplored territory. We finally arrived at a gate, and just beyond that cave was a home. How silly it was to have a home in a catacomb. I did not think of it any further. The tall masked man studied me for a moment, as if I were a book, as if there was something boldly written across my face. The gate slowly opened with some hidden trigger he set off, and as if he were a human being, he reached into his pocket for his set of keys! I cannot explain how bewildered I will forever be. How much of a normal man he was! Once he led me through his threshold, I was attacked by a cat, followed by him draping his cape over my shoulders.

"You must be cold… AYSHA… You really mustn't mind her. She really isn't usually so- DAMN IT YOU BLOODY ANIMAL! LET GO OF MS. DAAE'S DRESS. SHE IS A GUEST. COMPANY."

His frustration had made me giggle. It was as though he were nervous for some reason. This was ludicrous to imagine, an angel- being awkward. The cat slowly let go of me and trotted into another room. The shadow of a man guided me to a small room with a piano, where he sat down on the bench. Angel sighed, staring at some music sheets on the stand before looking up at me.

"Christine, if I am to be your angel of music-"

"If, angel? You are my angel of music. As you have been for as long as I can remember."

"I… I know. Though if I am going to continue with it, I would have to continue guiding you, with your studies. You're voice, as beautiful as it is, is obviously untrained. As my duty of your angel of music, I am required to prepare you for your future career. Would you be up for such a thing?"

"Yes, of course. As you know; father has been preparing me for this moment to come. He said I would excel. Be great."
"Ah, lucky Christine, how fortunate you are to be in reach of the stars. The fault is not in them, you are capable of doing anything if we practice. This will be up to you. Of course, I will be there along side of you."

It had hit me hard. There was a mask on my angels face. How could he hide from me!? Was I unworthy of him? Perhaps I was. Though my curiosity only lingered. He spoke more, and then we warmed up my voice so we could sing together. Still it was there, burning at the back of my mind. Who was this angel?

Erik

Everything was going just as planned. Christine had followed me lead, right into my trap. She seemed to be devoted to me, with the snap of my fingers. It was a sign from heaven that I would know the sweet bliss of this girl's company. And to share a duet with her was truly the death of me. At one point we sang AIDA but it was too much for me to handle. To think that she would love me so! I sent her to bed. It could have easily been an early hour in the morning when she finally stopped singing and went to bed. I was so bloody tired, and my eye lids were begging to be released of their duty, but my Christine had inspired me to compose an opera. She had become my muse. I became so lost in what I was doing. The music seemed to swirl around my head, dizzy with a certain love, a certain longing, a certain lust. It was too awesome, and sweet to ignore, to control. Everything came to a crashing halt when a little deceiving hand fell over my face, and ripped off my mask.

"Damn you! What were you thinking!?"
I raged and screamed and threw things at a wall, and then: I broke down and sobbed at her feet. I could not lose my Christine, and if she would give me the chance to apologize, I would show her I only mean well. She seemed speechless as my voice broke through my choked up tears.

"Forgive me. I am only Erik. But you will learn to love me! This I promise you."

After a while she left into her bedroom, which I had made out of a guest room I built when day dreaming of the real world, outside of my monstrous life. She came out a few days later, demanding that she be taken back to her dressing room immediately, announcing that she would return, but that she needed to go home and collect some things and check in with Meg, her mother and the other dancers. And of course I had no choice but to take her. She had all power over me. I still could not refuse her.