A/N--- Sorry for the long wait on this chapter. Things have been hell. I had writer's block(I get major
cases of this from time to time), I'm going to be starting college soon so I was getting that stuff ready, and
my dog died, which caused me to be a little depressed for a day or two. Things are better now and I'm sorry
if this chapter isn't that good. I tried my best.
Chapter one
A month later
Erik sat comfortably in one of the lush, velvet chairs of the Coronado Theatre. He looked out at
the stage and seats with a reflection of annoyance in his eyes. None of these people had true talent. A few
came close, though, which was rare since most of them had little or no teaching at all. The one thing that
annoyed Erik above all of this was the stares he recived. It had been a month since he was attacked and the
wounds he bore weren't those of a pleasant nature. Taking it unto himself, Erik worked for a week to make
a mask to cover his scarred face and he achieved it. He always wore it, taking it off only to bathe and sleep
and had a few different designs for a difference in taste.
There was no reason for Erik to attend the auditions. His purpose in the musical was playing the
piano, which he took pride in. Before every performance Erik would take to his piano, dressed in his best,
and begin to play his own pieces and sometimes those of the best composers of old. Erik enjoyed playing
Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata. The song was graceful and soothing. There were times where he'd play the
song for himself for hours. Music came natural to him and he played when ever he could. One of his most
powerful instruments was his own voice, which he rarely showcased. He never bothered to sing for reasons
beyond his logic.
Slowly the auditions continued. Erik sat in the back row of the theatre, listening and watching the
people try their chance at singing. Every so often Erik would jot something down on a notepad he brought.
He had some say in the casting and he was going to take full advantage of it. He wanted to know what and
who he was going to work with before hand. He enjoyed seeing them before any of them knew who exactly
he was. Erik was, in fact, the vocal instructor for the musical. He was grateful that the college had allowed
him an assistant, due to his 'injuries.'
Erik gathered his things, deciding that this was enough torture for one day. He had his mind set on
a nice evening alone. His score needed tending to and the kitten that he had found the moth earlier seemed
to miss him excessively, even if he left the loft for ten minuets. Erik adored the kitten, naming Ayoka which
seemed a perfect fit for the creature; it simply meant 'one who causes joy.' That is all that the kitten did,
bring joy into Erik's fractured world.
The lobby of the Coronado was breathtaking. Erik had visited the theatre many times since it's
reopening. The place was a world unto itself. Erik had lost himself in thought many a time in this building.
He sketched renderings of the rooms and had written parts of his score within those walls. The theatre was
his home and the birth place of his inspiration. It seemed all too natural for him, but Erik never questioned
the source of his enlightenment.
"Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens, bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens,
brown paper packages tied up with strings; these are a few of my favorite things."
Erik froze as he heard the singing voice drift through the still air. The voice was pure and as sweet
as could be; nearly flawless. Something within him stirred as the voice hit the notes perfectly. The voice
sounded familiar, as if he had heard it some where before. It wrenched his heart and tears began to form in
his soft brown eyes. Erik followed the voice without much thought. He had to see who contained such an
angelic voice.
As Erik rounded the bend of the wall he came to a sudden stop. Sitting on the ground, in a door
frame, was a petite, young creature. Her hair was a deep brown and tumbled around, curling softly and
naturally. The girl was dressed in black dress pants and a khaki colored blouse, enhancing the soft glow of
her fair skin. In her delicate hands she held a copy of the musical's score.
"Cream colored ponies and crisp apple strudels, doorbells and sleighbells, and schnitzel with
noodles." The girl paused and groaned softly. She shook her head and took in a deep breath. "Wild geese
that fly with the moon on their wings, these are a few of my favorite things."
Erik smiled softly and leaned against the wall. He watched the girl, from his few feet of distance, as
she flipped through the book. She muttered to herself and paused on a page. The girl chuckled to herself
and closed the book. She held it against her chest and let out a heavy sigh. Erik's smile faded as he sensed
the insecurity the girl had.
"You have the voice of an angel." Erik whispered, just loud enough for the girl to hear.
The girl jumped and turned around quickly. Her eyes were wide with the sudden surprise and she
breathed in heavily. Her eyes studied Erik's face and he turned his eyes away, not wanting to watch the girl
take in the burden he held over his face. He heard her soft intake of air and listened as she gathered her
things so she could stand.
"I'm sorry if I frightened you." Erik said, slowly turning his face towards the girl. She was
clutching the musical's score to her chest protectively. "I heard you singing and I couldn't help but follow
it. You have talent. You're voice is the best I've heard all day."
A soft smile crossed the girl's face and her cheeks grew rosy. Erik returned the smile. He took a
step forward, amazed that she didn't retreat. The girl's eyes studied Erik once more, this time with a kinder,
gentler sense to them. She held an innocence that one would see in a child that still believed in fair tales and
stories of knights rescuing maidens.
"Do. . . . Do you really think I have a good voice?" she asked softly. She looked down
nervously, blushing slightly.
Erik smiled. "Yes, and I know what I'm talking about." He began to circle the girl, slowly
examining her. Not only did she have a beautiful voice, her childlike looks and innocent aura would take her
far in the field of theatre. "My name is Erik. I am the vocal instructor for the musical and I give private
lessons for whom ever feels the need to learn." He handed her a card, which stated his name and his
address, where all of his lessons were taught.
The girl's eyes widened with joy and a sparkle appeared in them. "You give lessons?"
"Yes, but very few these days." Erik replied returning to his original point. He met the girl's gaze
and her cheeks grew rosy. Erik turned his eyes away quickly. "It seems that no one wants music lessons
from a man who wears a mask." Erik paused for a moment, glancing at the girl from the corner of his eye.
She was watching him carefully, her eyes full of compassion and seeming to look beyond the mask he wore.
"What is your name?"
"Oh! I'm sorry." the girl said, laughing nervously. She pushed back a lock of her curly hair and
blushed bashfully. "I'm Christine."
Erik froze for a second. The name struck a cord within him. It was too familiar. True, he had
heard the name many times before, but coming from this girl it seemed all too different. The name, her
voice, her face, her entire being, it all seemed to fit perfectly. She seemed too familiar and her name made it
seem like he had met her sometime before.
"Um, can I ask you something?" Christine said, finally breaking the awkward moment of silence.
She was rolling a corner of one of the score's pages.
"Yes." Erik replied softly. He had a feeling what she was going to ask. She wanted to know about
his mask; everyone did. They wanted to know why he wore it and what happened to him . The scars he still
held were his true burden. He was a genius, shut away from the world due to the accident that occurred a
month earlier. Everyone was curious about what lays beneath the porcelain face, but it is nothing more than
a nightmare.
Christine let out a heavy sigh. "I was wondering if you could give me singing lessons." She
seemed slightly alarmed by Erik's surprised reaction. "If it's okay with you. I mean, the musical might be a
handful and you do have other students. I don't want to be a burden."
"Christine, you couldn't possibly be a burden." Erik said with a soft, reassuring smile. Christine
smiled in return, happy with the response. Erik took a step closer to her and slowly touched her face. He
examined her more closely, something he tended to do to find facial structure. The structure of one's face,
as Erik had found, determined the voice it held.
"You have a beautiful face." Erik whispered. He paused, looking into Christine's eyes. She let out
a wavering breath as the two looked into each other's eyes. Erik's heart skipped a beat as a feeling of de ja
vu began to sweep over him. He slowly pulled away from Christine, feeling he might frighten, not only her,
but himself.
"Thank you." Christine replied, finally coming to her senses. She blushed wildly and smiled softly.
"So, will you teach me to sing?"
Erik took Christine's hand into his own. She took in a deep breath, somewhat shocked by his
actions. He smiled softly and looked at Christine. "You can already sing, I can only lift your voice to it's
fullest power so that even the angels in heaven can hear it. Soon, you will make the world weep at the
sound of your voice." He pulled away from Christine and ran a hand through his hair. He eyed her for a
moment. "If you wish to strengthen your voice, come to my loft this afternoon. I will teach and guide you,
Christine. You will become the very angel of music."
**********
"I swear. Erik tends to become stranger every day." Andrew growled as he shoved the two large
folders into his briefcase. He paused, glancing at Richard who was lounging in one of the seats happily.
Andrew frowned. "I take it you really don't care." Richard looked at Andrew and smiled happily.
The two were the directors for the year's musical, both nearing their forty years of life. Andrew
was the younger of the two and seemed to take the role of director rather serious. Richard was serious
about the job as well, but was laid back during the auditions. They both were teachers at the city's college,
teaching Theatre or Shakespearean Literature.
"Erik is a smart child, Andrew." Richard replied, stretching. He stood and slowly strolled over to
his comrade. "He's a little on the creepy side, but who isn't?"
Andrew narrowed his eyes angrily. He closed his briefcase and looked Richard square in the face.
"Erik isn't creepy, this man is down right horrifying! I mean, one would consider to have some type of
surgery after an accident like his. He has enough money, he can find a great doctor to piece his face
together." Andrew shuddered. He closed his eyes and took a seat. "That mask of his tends to frighten me
beyond imagination. Can you believe he created that thing himself? That bastard of a genius has too much
time on his hands."
With a smile Richard took a seat next to Andrew and sighed. He propped his feet up on the seat in
front of him, getting comfortable once more. "You know, Andrew, this is just his way of taking care of
what's happened to him. I've been a friend of his family for years and I've seen him in just about every
situation. Erik is stubborn, but he knows what's good for him."
Richard looked at the empty stage as he slipped into the memories of Erik's childhood. One
memory that always stuck out was the year Erik turned six; it was the year he discovered what death was.
Erik's mother had guests over, his father died a year after he was born and the widow never bothered to
remarry. It was summer and the windows were open, letting the warm breeze through. A mouse was
spotted beneath the coffee table, eating crumbs the guest had dropped. Every woman in that house
screamed upon the sight of the creature. Erik ran from his room to see what was wrong. He was in time to
see his mother's cat pounce on the defenseless mouse and break it's neck with one move. It took weeks for
the nightmares to cease.
"Has he ever acted like this though?" Andrew ask, breaking through Richard's memory.
"No." Richard replied solemnly. "Erik knows he nearly died and he isn't rather fond of that
thought. Rather than rid himself of the memory, he hides it beneath the mask."
Andrew shook his head and stood. He took his briefcase and slipped on his jacket. Richard
followed his friend to the doors of the Coronado. The sky outside was blanketed with storm clouds.
Lightning flashed in the sky and thunder followed. Slowly a few drops of rain began to fall and the several
people wandering the street began to scatter.
"Damn." Andrew sighed. He shifted his suitcase from one hand to the other and pulled out a
compact umbrella from a jacket pocket. "When should we get together to figure out the cast? I'm pretty
much free this whole week."
"We can do it this weekend." Richard replied. He pulled out the keys to the theatre's doors and
clutched them. "I have a very good idea of who should be our leading lady."
"Really?" Andrew asked, arching an eyebrow.
Richard nodded with a smile. "Her name is Carla Monroe. She's a soprano and a wonderful
actress. With some time spent with Erik, Carla's voice will be pristine. "
"And Erik is okay with this?" Andrew asked.
"Don't worry. I don't think Erik would really mind." Richard laughed. "Besides, we're the
directors. We have final say so in who plays whom."
cases of this from time to time), I'm going to be starting college soon so I was getting that stuff ready, and
my dog died, which caused me to be a little depressed for a day or two. Things are better now and I'm sorry
if this chapter isn't that good. I tried my best.
Chapter one
A month later
Erik sat comfortably in one of the lush, velvet chairs of the Coronado Theatre. He looked out at
the stage and seats with a reflection of annoyance in his eyes. None of these people had true talent. A few
came close, though, which was rare since most of them had little or no teaching at all. The one thing that
annoyed Erik above all of this was the stares he recived. It had been a month since he was attacked and the
wounds he bore weren't those of a pleasant nature. Taking it unto himself, Erik worked for a week to make
a mask to cover his scarred face and he achieved it. He always wore it, taking it off only to bathe and sleep
and had a few different designs for a difference in taste.
There was no reason for Erik to attend the auditions. His purpose in the musical was playing the
piano, which he took pride in. Before every performance Erik would take to his piano, dressed in his best,
and begin to play his own pieces and sometimes those of the best composers of old. Erik enjoyed playing
Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata. The song was graceful and soothing. There were times where he'd play the
song for himself for hours. Music came natural to him and he played when ever he could. One of his most
powerful instruments was his own voice, which he rarely showcased. He never bothered to sing for reasons
beyond his logic.
Slowly the auditions continued. Erik sat in the back row of the theatre, listening and watching the
people try their chance at singing. Every so often Erik would jot something down on a notepad he brought.
He had some say in the casting and he was going to take full advantage of it. He wanted to know what and
who he was going to work with before hand. He enjoyed seeing them before any of them knew who exactly
he was. Erik was, in fact, the vocal instructor for the musical. He was grateful that the college had allowed
him an assistant, due to his 'injuries.'
Erik gathered his things, deciding that this was enough torture for one day. He had his mind set on
a nice evening alone. His score needed tending to and the kitten that he had found the moth earlier seemed
to miss him excessively, even if he left the loft for ten minuets. Erik adored the kitten, naming Ayoka which
seemed a perfect fit for the creature; it simply meant 'one who causes joy.' That is all that the kitten did,
bring joy into Erik's fractured world.
The lobby of the Coronado was breathtaking. Erik had visited the theatre many times since it's
reopening. The place was a world unto itself. Erik had lost himself in thought many a time in this building.
He sketched renderings of the rooms and had written parts of his score within those walls. The theatre was
his home and the birth place of his inspiration. It seemed all too natural for him, but Erik never questioned
the source of his enlightenment.
"Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens, bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens,
brown paper packages tied up with strings; these are a few of my favorite things."
Erik froze as he heard the singing voice drift through the still air. The voice was pure and as sweet
as could be; nearly flawless. Something within him stirred as the voice hit the notes perfectly. The voice
sounded familiar, as if he had heard it some where before. It wrenched his heart and tears began to form in
his soft brown eyes. Erik followed the voice without much thought. He had to see who contained such an
angelic voice.
As Erik rounded the bend of the wall he came to a sudden stop. Sitting on the ground, in a door
frame, was a petite, young creature. Her hair was a deep brown and tumbled around, curling softly and
naturally. The girl was dressed in black dress pants and a khaki colored blouse, enhancing the soft glow of
her fair skin. In her delicate hands she held a copy of the musical's score.
"Cream colored ponies and crisp apple strudels, doorbells and sleighbells, and schnitzel with
noodles." The girl paused and groaned softly. She shook her head and took in a deep breath. "Wild geese
that fly with the moon on their wings, these are a few of my favorite things."
Erik smiled softly and leaned against the wall. He watched the girl, from his few feet of distance, as
she flipped through the book. She muttered to herself and paused on a page. The girl chuckled to herself
and closed the book. She held it against her chest and let out a heavy sigh. Erik's smile faded as he sensed
the insecurity the girl had.
"You have the voice of an angel." Erik whispered, just loud enough for the girl to hear.
The girl jumped and turned around quickly. Her eyes were wide with the sudden surprise and she
breathed in heavily. Her eyes studied Erik's face and he turned his eyes away, not wanting to watch the girl
take in the burden he held over his face. He heard her soft intake of air and listened as she gathered her
things so she could stand.
"I'm sorry if I frightened you." Erik said, slowly turning his face towards the girl. She was
clutching the musical's score to her chest protectively. "I heard you singing and I couldn't help but follow
it. You have talent. You're voice is the best I've heard all day."
A soft smile crossed the girl's face and her cheeks grew rosy. Erik returned the smile. He took a
step forward, amazed that she didn't retreat. The girl's eyes studied Erik once more, this time with a kinder,
gentler sense to them. She held an innocence that one would see in a child that still believed in fair tales and
stories of knights rescuing maidens.
"Do. . . . Do you really think I have a good voice?" she asked softly. She looked down
nervously, blushing slightly.
Erik smiled. "Yes, and I know what I'm talking about." He began to circle the girl, slowly
examining her. Not only did she have a beautiful voice, her childlike looks and innocent aura would take her
far in the field of theatre. "My name is Erik. I am the vocal instructor for the musical and I give private
lessons for whom ever feels the need to learn." He handed her a card, which stated his name and his
address, where all of his lessons were taught.
The girl's eyes widened with joy and a sparkle appeared in them. "You give lessons?"
"Yes, but very few these days." Erik replied returning to his original point. He met the girl's gaze
and her cheeks grew rosy. Erik turned his eyes away quickly. "It seems that no one wants music lessons
from a man who wears a mask." Erik paused for a moment, glancing at the girl from the corner of his eye.
She was watching him carefully, her eyes full of compassion and seeming to look beyond the mask he wore.
"What is your name?"
"Oh! I'm sorry." the girl said, laughing nervously. She pushed back a lock of her curly hair and
blushed bashfully. "I'm Christine."
Erik froze for a second. The name struck a cord within him. It was too familiar. True, he had
heard the name many times before, but coming from this girl it seemed all too different. The name, her
voice, her face, her entire being, it all seemed to fit perfectly. She seemed too familiar and her name made it
seem like he had met her sometime before.
"Um, can I ask you something?" Christine said, finally breaking the awkward moment of silence.
She was rolling a corner of one of the score's pages.
"Yes." Erik replied softly. He had a feeling what she was going to ask. She wanted to know about
his mask; everyone did. They wanted to know why he wore it and what happened to him . The scars he still
held were his true burden. He was a genius, shut away from the world due to the accident that occurred a
month earlier. Everyone was curious about what lays beneath the porcelain face, but it is nothing more than
a nightmare.
Christine let out a heavy sigh. "I was wondering if you could give me singing lessons." She
seemed slightly alarmed by Erik's surprised reaction. "If it's okay with you. I mean, the musical might be a
handful and you do have other students. I don't want to be a burden."
"Christine, you couldn't possibly be a burden." Erik said with a soft, reassuring smile. Christine
smiled in return, happy with the response. Erik took a step closer to her and slowly touched her face. He
examined her more closely, something he tended to do to find facial structure. The structure of one's face,
as Erik had found, determined the voice it held.
"You have a beautiful face." Erik whispered. He paused, looking into Christine's eyes. She let out
a wavering breath as the two looked into each other's eyes. Erik's heart skipped a beat as a feeling of de ja
vu began to sweep over him. He slowly pulled away from Christine, feeling he might frighten, not only her,
but himself.
"Thank you." Christine replied, finally coming to her senses. She blushed wildly and smiled softly.
"So, will you teach me to sing?"
Erik took Christine's hand into his own. She took in a deep breath, somewhat shocked by his
actions. He smiled softly and looked at Christine. "You can already sing, I can only lift your voice to it's
fullest power so that even the angels in heaven can hear it. Soon, you will make the world weep at the
sound of your voice." He pulled away from Christine and ran a hand through his hair. He eyed her for a
moment. "If you wish to strengthen your voice, come to my loft this afternoon. I will teach and guide you,
Christine. You will become the very angel of music."
**********
"I swear. Erik tends to become stranger every day." Andrew growled as he shoved the two large
folders into his briefcase. He paused, glancing at Richard who was lounging in one of the seats happily.
Andrew frowned. "I take it you really don't care." Richard looked at Andrew and smiled happily.
The two were the directors for the year's musical, both nearing their forty years of life. Andrew
was the younger of the two and seemed to take the role of director rather serious. Richard was serious
about the job as well, but was laid back during the auditions. They both were teachers at the city's college,
teaching Theatre or Shakespearean Literature.
"Erik is a smart child, Andrew." Richard replied, stretching. He stood and slowly strolled over to
his comrade. "He's a little on the creepy side, but who isn't?"
Andrew narrowed his eyes angrily. He closed his briefcase and looked Richard square in the face.
"Erik isn't creepy, this man is down right horrifying! I mean, one would consider to have some type of
surgery after an accident like his. He has enough money, he can find a great doctor to piece his face
together." Andrew shuddered. He closed his eyes and took a seat. "That mask of his tends to frighten me
beyond imagination. Can you believe he created that thing himself? That bastard of a genius has too much
time on his hands."
With a smile Richard took a seat next to Andrew and sighed. He propped his feet up on the seat in
front of him, getting comfortable once more. "You know, Andrew, this is just his way of taking care of
what's happened to him. I've been a friend of his family for years and I've seen him in just about every
situation. Erik is stubborn, but he knows what's good for him."
Richard looked at the empty stage as he slipped into the memories of Erik's childhood. One
memory that always stuck out was the year Erik turned six; it was the year he discovered what death was.
Erik's mother had guests over, his father died a year after he was born and the widow never bothered to
remarry. It was summer and the windows were open, letting the warm breeze through. A mouse was
spotted beneath the coffee table, eating crumbs the guest had dropped. Every woman in that house
screamed upon the sight of the creature. Erik ran from his room to see what was wrong. He was in time to
see his mother's cat pounce on the defenseless mouse and break it's neck with one move. It took weeks for
the nightmares to cease.
"Has he ever acted like this though?" Andrew ask, breaking through Richard's memory.
"No." Richard replied solemnly. "Erik knows he nearly died and he isn't rather fond of that
thought. Rather than rid himself of the memory, he hides it beneath the mask."
Andrew shook his head and stood. He took his briefcase and slipped on his jacket. Richard
followed his friend to the doors of the Coronado. The sky outside was blanketed with storm clouds.
Lightning flashed in the sky and thunder followed. Slowly a few drops of rain began to fall and the several
people wandering the street began to scatter.
"Damn." Andrew sighed. He shifted his suitcase from one hand to the other and pulled out a
compact umbrella from a jacket pocket. "When should we get together to figure out the cast? I'm pretty
much free this whole week."
"We can do it this weekend." Richard replied. He pulled out the keys to the theatre's doors and
clutched them. "I have a very good idea of who should be our leading lady."
"Really?" Andrew asked, arching an eyebrow.
Richard nodded with a smile. "Her name is Carla Monroe. She's a soprano and a wonderful
actress. With some time spent with Erik, Carla's voice will be pristine. "
"And Erik is okay with this?" Andrew asked.
"Don't worry. I don't think Erik would really mind." Richard laughed. "Besides, we're the
directors. We have final say so in who plays whom."