Hello, all!
I did not take the time to describe costumes or set pieces for the Phantasma. I would recommend watching the Australian version of "Love Never Dies" to have the same mental images in your head that I had while writing. If not, then just have fun imagining whatever you'd like. But my versions of the POTO characters are from the 2004 movie, not LND.
The lyrics are excerpts from ALW's actual songs in the musical.
Dearest Meg,
I have to believe you are alive. I feel very strongly that you must be, or else I would have felt your death in my soul. A mother knows.
If you are alive, I cannot imagine you would not come to me. Unless you cannot. And that is what plagues my mind.
He has you. The Phantom…Erik. That is his true name. I met him when he was only a young boy. I was fourteen, and I pitied him. I hid him in the opera house, but I didn't do much else. I fed him a few times, then left him to fend for himself. I talked with him in the beginning, but then returned to my studies and practicing. I didn't know what to do. I was too young. I had concealed him in a safer place, and I had given him the opportunity to create a new life for himself. But only in the shadows.
I am telling you all of this to take the full blame of what you have been through. As I ran up the stone stairwell, after showing the Vicomte the way to find Christine, I had a horrible premonition that Erik would retaliate, if his plans did not play out according to his wishes.
I searched for you for days, weeks. And then I waited, hoping you were hidden away somewhere safe.
When you didn't return, I suspected he took you. I don't know how he found you, in all of that chaos, but I can imagine that he saw you and acted rashly, as he has been known to do all his life.
Do you know the utter agony I feel, knowing that I am the reason for so much ruin? I brought him into our lives. And then, I betrayed his trust. He is not a forgiving soul. I know that better than anyone.
I am happy for Christine, that she and her Vicomte are safe and thriving. But I paid too high a price, in helping her lover reach her. I am trusting her with this last errand, though, because I have no choice.
If Erik is merciful, if he keeps himself from hurting you…if he realizes that you are innocent in all of this, and that I will suffer enough with having lost you…you may cross paths with Christine, again. Either Erik will let you go, and you will go to her to find me, or Erik will not let you go, but his fiery obsession with her will reunite the two of you, once more. So I place all my hope in those possible outcomes.
I am taking a commission in London, to teach at The Royal Ballet. I wish you were joining me. Maybe, someday… I do not think I will like England, much, but I will not be very far from our homeland. If I hear any word of your return, I will be on the next boat back to France.
I do not know what tactics Erik will use to keep you under his control. I shudder to think of anything unpleasant happening to my darling daughter. But, a word of advice: remember that he has never felt love in his life. Nothing real. He will always be infatuated with Christine, because he believes himself to love her. He believes that he deserves to have these feelings returned, but he knows nothing of giving or receiving love.
He has received more than his fair share of betrayal. That is a sentiment that he knows, through and through. And he will betray any and all those who stand between him and Christine. Do not follow in my footsteps. Stay out of his path, as much as possible, if he seeks to steal her back.
I could not protect you. I am so, very sorry. Please, Meg…please protect yourself.
If we do not meet again, in this lifetime, I will be watching over you from the heavens.
I miss you dearly. I love you always.
Meg's whole body shook, finishing the letter from her late mother. She collapsed onto her bed. Her tears gathered and fell rapidly, threatening to splash upon the paper and erase her mother's final words to her forever. She quickly placed it upon her nightstand, well away from her waterworks.
The other contents of the parcel were still on the table, and she returned to examine each piece more thoroughly. A brooch that had belonged to her mother. It was Meg's favorite, of all of her mother's jewelry. It had a black stone with colorful specks rising to the top, in a glittering array that changed color in different lighting. Around the stone was intricate brass design and accents of small diamonds and sapphires that dotted the many textures surrounding the center stone. There was a ring, as well. Her mother's cameo ring. The ivory image was the profile of some Grecian goddess. She was situated on top of an onyx stone, with gold lacework framing the oval signet. Her mother usually wore it on her smallest finger. Meg couldn't imagine her mother parting with such precious items.
The last item was a picture. The only family picture Meg and her mother had ever taken. Meg was posed with her arms in fourth position and her right leg in tendu in front of her body. Madam Giry stood formally to her side, slightly behind her daughter, with one hand perched on Meg's shoulder. They looked professional, but pleasant. Meg's tears resurfaced, seeing her mother's image. Eight years. She could still see her mother in her mind, but she felt blessed to have a lasting picture of her. She would need to purchase a frame, at her earliest convenience.
"ADDIE!" There was a shout from the other side of her locked door. "WE CAN'T WAIT FOREVER! HURRY UP!"
"I'm coming, Fleck!"
There was no answer, but Meg was certain the small-statured woman was already on her way back to the stage. Before going out to meet the rest of the troupe, she folded the letter and placed it in one of her dresser drawers. The brooch and ring were placed in the jewelry box on Meg's vanity, and she leaned the precious photograph against the vanity's mirror.
After rehearsal concluded, there was time for everyone to prepare for that night's performances. Christine and Meg returned to the lavish guest room, sitting upon the sofa in happier moods. Christine did not mention the parcel, and Meg did not divulge any information about it. They fell into easier conversation, retelling stories from and reminiscing about their days at the Opera Populaire, when Raoul and Gustave returned.
"Look at you two!" Raoul exclaimed, holding a very tired boy in his arms. "You look as though you are still dormmates, sharing secrets in each other's confidence!"
"And look at you two!" Christine answered. "You tuckered our little man out! Place him on the bed for a nap, dear, will you?"
Raoul walked straight to the bedroom, while Gustave's eyes stared blankly back at his mother and her friend. Once his son was made comfortable, Raoul reemerged into the living area, sitting down in a chair across from his wife.
"I have a request, now that our schedule in America has been turned on its head," he started seriously. "Jack Astor contacted me, and he invited me to stay in his home in Rhinebeck, which is about 170 kilometers or so north of here. I should like to visit with him, ask about some of the investments he's made in this country, for the next few days. Perhaps through the weekend? Now that I know you have a friend here to be with you, I feel much more comfortable leaving you in such wonderful hands. And we aren't meeting with Hammerstein before Monday, so I have time before that appointment."
Christine's lips pursed in displeasure, but she limited her reaction.
"When would you leave?"
"Tomorrow morning, so that I can see you perform tonight." He looked to Meg, then. "You, too, of course Miss Giry. I look forward to cheering you on, as well."
His wife was conflicted, Meg saw it in her friend's countenance. Something in Christine eyes glinted then, and she smiled at the thought in her head.
"I suppose Gustave would love to see a grand estate and enjoy all of the distractions of the country."
Raoul hesitated. "I think he would, too, my love, but I cannot take him. The long carriage ride there, long odious talks of business, and strangers surrounding him… I think it would be better if he stayed in your care. Is that all right?"
Christine frowned and went to argue.
"We should be happy to host him here," Meg spoke up. "He'll enjoy meeting all of the performers. We're like one big family!" She looked pointedly at the worried mother. "We will keep him safe, of course."
The poor, outnumbered woman could do nothing more than smile grimly at the other two adults.
"Well, I'll leave you, now," Meg explained, while standing and heading for the door. "Someone will be by to bring you an early dinner, and our curtain call is at 5:30. I need to head back to my own room, so that I can get ready for tonight's shows. I'll see you then?"
"Yes, that will be fine," Christine spoke as if in a trance, her mind clouded with unspoken worries. "Goodbye, Meg."
"Remember to call me Addie, outside this room. I don't want everyone here to know of my past self."
Christine's eyes narrowed at this instruction. "I thought you said you were one big family," she cruelly chided.
Meg left that alone, nodding defeatedly and leaving the room. Before she left, she noted her friend's sour expression and the Vicomte's bewildered look.
At 5:30, half an hour before the first show of the night, Christine promptly arrived and stood to the side of the stage. The musical director had everyone in the cast warm up their voices together, and he beamed when he heard the guest singer's voice ringing out with perfect pitch and clarity. Meg was on the other side of the stage, singing the warm ups and stretching alongside the chorus girls. She and Christine shared a few furtive glances.
Gangle watched them both with interest, wondering what connection the two possibly shared to warrant Addie sitting with the famous opera diva on the sofa in the guest performer's room.
The first show began, with Gangle, Fleck, and Squelch eerily introducing the audience to the eclectic group of performers. Meg stayed in the wings, with the children from the audience who had been picked to be a part of the opening number. One by one, the young boys were placed on carousel animals, although each animal was no more than a pedestal prop that would be moved in a circle to simulate a real carousel. Christine, having little choice in the matter, let Gustave join the group of boys. Meg hauled him up, too, grunting at the weight.
"Thank you, Miss Addie!" he happily whispered. He had been warned several times to be as silent as possible, because the audience wasn't supposed to know about them. Meg walked to the side of the stage and stood next to her friend, who had her arms folded protectively over her dress.
"This is bizarre," Christine whispered. "Where did he find all of these performers? How on earth did he go from Don Juan Triumphant to…this? Whatever this is?"
Meg bristled a bit. This show was years in the making. She enjoyed the change from the regimented and disciplined ways of ballet in opera.
"He said he would never write another opera. This was a new start, for him," she whispered back.
Christine gave Meg a sidelong eye, again trying to read between the words that were said. She abandoned the conversation and her friend, walking to a spot where she could better see her son. When the cyclist towing the life-sized monkey music box slowly crossed the stage, Christine crossed her arms again, looking less than amused.
Meg looked up to the rafters. She knew that was where Erik usually watched the show, just as he had sometimes done in Paris. It was too dark to see anything. Christine's husband, she saw, was sitting in the front row, off to the side, with an uncomfortable smile plastered on his face. Clearly, he didn't understand the appeal of Phantasma either.
"Welcome one, and welcome all!
Welcome to the Master's ball!"
When the opening number finished, the children were all escorted back to their parents in the audience, and Gustave was released to his father. The child was still reeling from all of the attention; he sat on his father's lap and kept his wide eyes glued to the stage.
Meg hurried to her mark, in the center of the stage, behind the drawn curtain. She took a breath and posed prettily in anticipation. Then, the curtain was whisked away.
"Welcome…each and every one,
To our festival of fun-"
The chorus girls peeked out from behind the set pieces onstage and joined Meg in the song.
"Something notable and new!"
They returned to their hiding places, leaving Meg alone, again, onstage. She moved tantalizingly, trying not to think about what her demure friend and her sophisticated family might be thinking.
"We bring glamour from afar,
Plus a touch of the bizarre-"
She winked towards Christine, before the chorus joined in again.
"And it's only for you!"
The welcoming number continued, with Meg and the other six dancers strutting and singing flirtatiously. At one point, Suzanne and Ellie held her arms, as she kicked her leg up and leaned back to lengthen her split. After its conclusion, the audience, mostly men, let out a loud burst of applause. Raoul was politely clapping, seated, with Gustave excitedly adding to the praise.
When she looked over to Christine, Meg's friend had her eyebrows raised in astonishment. She clapped without real enthusiasm, looking completely stupefied.
The next acts in the vaudeville show went by quickly in succession, and Christine, the celebrated headliner, was scheduled to sing at the very end. Meg removed her headdress and drank some water, after her number. She looked over to where Christine stood, but she did not join her. Meg assumed she would want to prepare, mentally, for her song. That, or her old friend was still trying to digest the revue style of the show.
Finally, it was time for Christine to take the stage. She stately walked to the center, where a spotlight awaited her. The crowd was hushed, seeming to understand the reverence that her presence warranted.
Meg walked closer to the edge of the wing, leaning against a pillar to enjoy what she knew from experience would be a spectacular performance.
Christine did not disappoint, as her voice swelled to fill the performance hall. Meg heard every lyric. Did Christine know? Yes, of course she does, Meg understood. How could she not know that every word was written about her? Erik couldn't have made it more obvious.
Raoul was captivated by his wife's performance. Meg smiled at the poor fool, who unwittingly was being pulled into the Phantom's trap. She was relieved to see that the handsome Vicomte was still a good match for her friend. He adored her as much as he ever had. The thought warmed Meg's heart, while simultaneously leaving her feeling empty.
The heart-wrenching song ended, simply. Beautifully. As she bowed to the thunderous standing ovation, Gangle, Fleck, and Squelch rushed past Meg with arms full of roses. The three large bouquets were presented to Christine, who looked as though she was about to hold vipers in her hands. Each rose had a black ribbon tied beneath the bloom. She steeled herself and took all three with a strained smile.
It was a barb in Meg's soul. Christine was not their first guest performer. But she was the first to receive roses. Not just any roses. His roses.
Christine exited the stage, and the ushers set forth to empty the theater to prepare for the next show. Raoul and Gustave were led backstage, to their guest room. Christine stopped before passing Meg. She laid the roses on a set piece beside her, then walked past Meg to rejoin her family.
Meg glanced at the flowers. She knew they would smell lovely.
But they weren't for her.