Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from "Le Fantome de
L'Opera", nor from Andrew Lloyd Webber's "Phantom of the Opera". They
belong to their respective owners, and I am writing this out of my deep
love and respect for the story which has captivated so many of us.
Also, the premise for the title of this phiction is taken from the song
"Let Me Fall", from Cirque De Soleil. Some of you may recognize it from
Josh Groban's self-titled CD. I obviously do not own that either.
Chapter 3: The one I want.
Raoul
As I seated myself in Box Three and waited for the performance to begin, my mind began to wander, as confused as muddled as the sound of the orchestra tuning their instruments. I was anxious, who would not be, in my position? The nightmare that kept Christine distant from me was about to end, as would the nightmare for the entire Opera House. I had heard enough about this "ghost", this demon who lurked in the Opera.. who had turned Christine from the innocent, laughing girl I had known into the cold, aloof woman I saw now. No longer did a faint rose grace her cheeks, for she did not blush, nor smile, or laugh.. she was like a creature of the night now, shying away from the light.. away from me. I could not bear to see my dearest friend, and the woman I had been in love with since I was a young boy fall into the darkness.
The darkness was in her mind, and he, that monster, had created it for her. She lived on music, and I daresay little more than that, as she refused to dine out with her face, and indeed her entire body was thin, as though she intended to starve herself. I had seen the changes in her over the past months since this whole ordeal had begun, the way she had become agitated and listless, always glancing over her shoulder as though she expected to find someone. What distressed me most, is whenever she did this, she looked displeased that no one was there..
I had known the man was dangerous from what Christine had told me on the roof of the Opera the night after Il Muto. However, it was only after the masked ball, when I witnessed for myself the way his mere presence had captivated Christine, and then again at Perros when he had attempted to lure her back to him, that I understood completely the tremendous harm he could cause to her. The way that she became entranced and saw nor heard anything but him caused me to feel the greatest of dread. In that state of ecstasy which he sent her into.. I doubted there was a thing he would not be able to make her do without question.. surely a man such as that could not have innocent intentions!
The dimming of the lights and the overture brought me back from my back from my thoughts, and I settled into my chair, listening half-heartedly to the performance, and watching for any signs that the monster had come. Box Five was apparently still empty, as the officer I had stationed to watch it had made no movement or in any way indicated that the "ghost" was there.
Christine's first entrance on the stage was met with a cold reception from the audience... doubtlessly, after the fiasco at the masked ball, everyone in Paris had heard that the Opera Ghost demanded that Christine Daae was his and she must sing for him and him alone. My heart went out to her, for she looked lost as she made her entrance. She had pleaded with myself and the managers to not make her perform this "Don Juan" of the "ghost's", but there had been no other way.. still, she looked pale, and I feared she might faint away on the stage.. when she suddenly glanced up toward my box. I smiled, hoping perhaps she could see me.. and then, she looked toward Box Five. I furrowed my brow - did she smile as she looked up toward his box? No, surely I had imagined it.. but I did not imagine the way her eyes lit up as she turned her gaze from Box Five, and toward the audience, nor did I image the utter spender of her voice as she began to sing.
There seemed to be a hush over the audience at that first note which she sang, and even though I was not very knowledgeable in music, I knew it was perfect. The song was an aria, and aria of innocence and love, and as she sang it, I became suddenly aware of just how perfect the song seemed.. as thought it was written for her. Then, like a fool, I realized that it was written for her. How had that simple fact escaped me before? It was not until now, as she stood alone on the stage, looked every bit an angel with her dark curls falling over her shoulders and the soft rose-colour of her dress looked like an early morning sky in the lights that I realized it. I stiffened, the thought of the fiend being somewhere in this theater, watching her, chilled my blood. The managers must have noticed, for they were sitting in my box as well, and M. Firmin's hand upon my arm and his words of "calm.. we must remain calm" caused me to breathe, and I buried the anger inside of me. There was nothing I could do unless he showed himself.
Chapter 3: The one I want.
Raoul
As I seated myself in Box Three and waited for the performance to begin, my mind began to wander, as confused as muddled as the sound of the orchestra tuning their instruments. I was anxious, who would not be, in my position? The nightmare that kept Christine distant from me was about to end, as would the nightmare for the entire Opera House. I had heard enough about this "ghost", this demon who lurked in the Opera.. who had turned Christine from the innocent, laughing girl I had known into the cold, aloof woman I saw now. No longer did a faint rose grace her cheeks, for she did not blush, nor smile, or laugh.. she was like a creature of the night now, shying away from the light.. away from me. I could not bear to see my dearest friend, and the woman I had been in love with since I was a young boy fall into the darkness.
The darkness was in her mind, and he, that monster, had created it for her. She lived on music, and I daresay little more than that, as she refused to dine out with her face, and indeed her entire body was thin, as though she intended to starve herself. I had seen the changes in her over the past months since this whole ordeal had begun, the way she had become agitated and listless, always glancing over her shoulder as though she expected to find someone. What distressed me most, is whenever she did this, she looked displeased that no one was there..
I had known the man was dangerous from what Christine had told me on the roof of the Opera the night after Il Muto. However, it was only after the masked ball, when I witnessed for myself the way his mere presence had captivated Christine, and then again at Perros when he had attempted to lure her back to him, that I understood completely the tremendous harm he could cause to her. The way that she became entranced and saw nor heard anything but him caused me to feel the greatest of dread. In that state of ecstasy which he sent her into.. I doubted there was a thing he would not be able to make her do without question.. surely a man such as that could not have innocent intentions!
The dimming of the lights and the overture brought me back from my back from my thoughts, and I settled into my chair, listening half-heartedly to the performance, and watching for any signs that the monster had come. Box Five was apparently still empty, as the officer I had stationed to watch it had made no movement or in any way indicated that the "ghost" was there.
Christine's first entrance on the stage was met with a cold reception from the audience... doubtlessly, after the fiasco at the masked ball, everyone in Paris had heard that the Opera Ghost demanded that Christine Daae was his and she must sing for him and him alone. My heart went out to her, for she looked lost as she made her entrance. She had pleaded with myself and the managers to not make her perform this "Don Juan" of the "ghost's", but there had been no other way.. still, she looked pale, and I feared she might faint away on the stage.. when she suddenly glanced up toward my box. I smiled, hoping perhaps she could see me.. and then, she looked toward Box Five. I furrowed my brow - did she smile as she looked up toward his box? No, surely I had imagined it.. but I did not imagine the way her eyes lit up as she turned her gaze from Box Five, and toward the audience, nor did I image the utter spender of her voice as she began to sing.
There seemed to be a hush over the audience at that first note which she sang, and even though I was not very knowledgeable in music, I knew it was perfect. The song was an aria, and aria of innocence and love, and as she sang it, I became suddenly aware of just how perfect the song seemed.. as thought it was written for her. Then, like a fool, I realized that it was written for her. How had that simple fact escaped me before? It was not until now, as she stood alone on the stage, looked every bit an angel with her dark curls falling over her shoulders and the soft rose-colour of her dress looked like an early morning sky in the lights that I realized it. I stiffened, the thought of the fiend being somewhere in this theater, watching her, chilled my blood. The managers must have noticed, for they were sitting in my box as well, and M. Firmin's hand upon my arm and his words of "calm.. we must remain calm" caused me to breathe, and I buried the anger inside of me. There was nothing I could do unless he showed himself.