Chapter 3: Music of the Night
The Phantom didn't visit me often. He only came once in a while when he felt like it. He wasn't like Grandmother had described him. He didn't do anything to the set, nothing to the cast, he didn't even leave notes or ask that Box 5 be left open. It was quite strange. I wondered if the person in the Opera and the man my grandmother described were the same person. The Phantom I knew didn't seem like the kind of person to do such things. Well, at least I didn't think so until it came time for my brother's latest Opera to debute.
"Places, places!" My brother shouted. "Come one people, we've only a few hours left for rehearsal!" Tonight was going to be 'the best production the Opera Populaire would ever see' acording to my brother. He had been running around like a chicken with his head cut off for the past few days and I couldn't help but find it ammusing. I sat in the backstage and watched everyone run around, the balletrina's practice, and the newest diva sing unecissarily high notes. I decided to take a trip upstairs and watch from a bird's eye view. The men up there were more than happy to show me the best spot to watch. They were all quite friendly, perhaps too friendly. I could have swore I felt at least one make a grab for my rear. I shuddered at the thought of one of those men touching me.
I watched intently as the balletrina's danced about and the other members of the cast pranced around and sang their parts. I couldn't help but hum a few of the songs to myself, as I knew them all from watching the practices. I saw movement out of the corner of my eye and assumed it was just one of the workers until I heard the sound of a cape cutting through the air. I looked in the direction of the sound but saw nothing. I tried to find what was there, but I couldn't find anything.
"Hello?" I asked, softly. "Hello? Is anyone here?" I felt as though someone was watching me, making a chill run down my spine. He was here.
I heard something snap and turned my head to see a piece of the set collapse. I covered my mouth, not only to stop the scream that wanted to come out, but the laugh that was hiding in my throat as well. I quickly rushed to the floor to make sure everyone was okay. There was a loud ruckus and everyone was rushing about franticly.
"What in God's name was that?" My mother asked, looking up at the men working the set.
"It wasn't us, M'Lady," one said. "The rope just snapped."
"Fix it!" Mother shouted angerly. I couldnt help but snicker as I made my way off the stage. I felt something crack under my foot and looked down to see a letter under my foot with a broken wax seal. I opened it and read it carefully.
Good Evening, My good Monsieurs,
I am writting this note to let you know that The Phantom of the Opera has indeed returned. I know you all must have missed me greatly, but it was the fate you let yourself fall pray to when you intruded in my Opera. As I instructed so many years ago, Box 5 be left empty for me and my monthly salary of 25,000 francs be payed to me. If my conditions are not met, then a dissaster far more terrible will occur.
OG
I smiled inwardly and quickly gave the note to my mother. Needless to say she was outraged. 'There is no Opera Ghost!' she insisted over and over. The production continued as planned and Box 5 was indeed left open by my father's orders. The opera was beautiful and a boquet of red roses with black ribbons was given to the cast. After the opera was over I rushed to my room and peered into the mirror. I ran my fingers over the creases, knowing there had to be to open it. I peered through the darkness of the mirror and saw his face gaze down at me. I couldn't help but smile.
"I always knew you were real," I said. "Mother and Father said Grandmother Christine was a liar, but I knew her stories were true." He looked at me confused for a moment before placing his hand on the glass above mine. He began to sing the lullaby, not meeting my gaze like he normally did. I questioned if this was the same Phantom as the one my dear grandmother had told me about. He looked too young to have known my grandmother.
"Do you know her? My grandmother I mean," I asked, looking at him during his song. He looked at me before turning away.
"Please don't go!" I pleaded. "Please, I just want to know if you are the same Phantom my grandmother told me stories of." He stopped in his tracks and turned to look at me. He looked down in defeat before placing his hand on the wall next to him. There must have been a secret switch because the mirror opened like a door. He continued walking and I chased after him. He lead me to the lake and gestured for me to get into the boat. I did and he hopped in behind me. I sat still, not knowing what I should do. We eventually came to a misty area with candles everywhere. He helped me out, but went straight to an organ that sat a few feet away. I approached him and sat in the empty space next to him on his bench. He looked at me before he began to play the music of the lullaby. I sang and he watched me. I couldn't help but notice the smile on his face.
"I knew your grandmother, yes," he said finally. That was the first thing I'd ever him actually say and not just sing. He stood up and walked past me to a group of mirrors covered by curtains.
"I loved her, but she left for Rauol," he continued. "I avoided the law for years but I could never stay away from here. This has been my home since I was was a child. Here is where my music is, my life, my art." He looked at me before walking away and turn into a room. I fallowed him and saw him sitting in a swan shaped bed. He had his head in his hands and appeared to be breathing heavily. I approached him and lightly touched his shoulder, making him jump slightly. I sat next to him, my hand not leaving his shoulder.
"I've wanted to meet you all my life," I admitted. "Ever since Grandmother told me her first story of the Opera Populaire, I've wanted to meet this mysterious Phantom who lurked in the shadows." He looked at me and rested his arms on his legs. I gently began to stroke his hsoulder with my thumb, something I knew he noticed. He looked breifely at my hand before returning to me.
"You do not know me," he said.
"But I wish to," I said. "I do not fear you. Believe me, please." He chuckled before standing, pulling me with him. He gently grasped my shoulders and brushed his thumb over my slightly exposed shoulders.
"I must return you," he said. "Your parents will worry." He cringed as he said the word 'parent' obviously having some painful attachment to it. I smiled at him and reached up to touch his face, only to make sure he was real. He leaned into my hand and closed his eyes, conently sighing. I smiled wider and let my fingers linger on his skin as I pulled my hand away. He led me back to the boat and took me to my room. He lingered longer than he should have as I readied myself for bed. He looked at me one last time with an expression I couldn't explain.
"Good night, Vanessa,"
"Good night, Angel of Music," he froze slightly before continuing his journey home.
