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 4: The one I will become....
Erik
She was breathtaking. Every note, every phrase, perfect. My heart rose and fell as her voice soared on wings of music... music I had written for her. Even in my despair, and even though that boy owned her heart, I still possessed her voice. I had positioned myself in a secret space I had made in the wall on the left side of the stage, and though I could not see Christine from there, I heard her... When her song ended, I heard the tremendous ovation from the auditorium, and knew just how triumphant she had been. There it was again, that tightening feeling inside my chest.. I closed my eyes against it, willing the weakness away that threatened me. I could not falter.. I had made my choice. I could not turn back from it.
I cursed myself for writing my opera this long. I grimaced whenever the chorus sang, for even in her demoted position, Carlotta's shrill voice was a botch in the ointment I called my magnum opus. Nearly three hours I waited, and though it was cramped I stayed in my hidden place, until the moment I had been waiting for finally came. Don Juan, who was Signor Piangi, sang the lines I had been waiting to hear. At this moment in my opera, the Don was planning with his friend to lure the most beautiful servant girl in his entire estates to his bed. I smiled at the bitter irony of it. Don Juan took women like I wrote music - often, and with passion. Yet I, the composer of this opera had never once had a woman... and I never would. Doubtlessly, Don Juan would live on in stories though the centuries, and have many more women. Curse you fate, for giving me this face, and for also giving me a heart that was stolen by an angelic chorus girl...
As Signor Pinagi took his leave from center stage and retired behind a set piece, waiting for the moment he was to next make his entrance and seduce my darling Christine in her role of Aminta, I slipped from my hiding place, and neatly garroted him with a swift movement. Oh yes, I killed him, and without a second though... I was about to sign my own death warrant, I thought grimly as dressed myself in Don Juan's black cloak, and pulled the hood over my head, why should I pay any heed to killing people now? Christine already considered me a monster... One more death would hardly matter... And I could not disappoint her opinion of me now by becoming soft! I was already nothing to her...
The tightening in my chest threatened to stop my heart, and the moment I threw back the curtain of the set piece to reveal myself to Christine, and indeed the entire opera house, I nearly cried out, for the pain was unbearable. Almost... but I did not cry, for one glance at Christine, and the sorrow, rage, and passion that I had been driven to because of her overcame my fear. I had not been this close to her for a month, as she had stopped coming to me for her lessons. She looked very pale, and for a moment I wondered if she were ill... She turned her back to me, or rather, to the Don shyly, glancing over her shoulder coyly. It a movement scripted yet it consumed me with a sudden desire to reach out and capture her in my arms. All my feelings of weakness dissipated.
As I stepped toward her, and unfurled my hand, I began the first note, and watched her react to it with her entire being.
You have come here.
I had known from the first moment I began to sing she would know me, and she did. I could see her through the thin fabric of the cloak I wore, and she started as if an electrical current had shocked her. She knew my voice. She whirled around to stare at me, and I could see her glance around herself, unsure of what to do. Lifting the prop chalice to her, she took it, and drank the non-existent liquid within, her eyes wide with horror. The moment I pulled the chalice away, she turned, and fled to the other side of the table, yet another set piece in this scene, confusion plainly etched on her face. I wondered for a moment if the managers or that boy had noticed that the scene unraveling onstage was not the scene that had been intended. By now, Aminta should have been quite intoxicated from the wine and the Don's words...
I advanced toward her, wrapping her in the melody on the song. The song was about lust, passion, rage, and desire, and at that moment I sang it truer than I had ever sung it while hiding away in the cellars, writing my opera. I took Christine's hand in mine, and she gasped as I pulled her toward the bed that Don Juan intended on sharing with his heart's desire... No use resisting: abandon thought, and let the dream descend . . . She jerked away from me, as was scripted, but with a terror that was real. Ah yes, Christine, now you see the irony of my music.. I write of love and desire when you would think of me only as a monster and a beast.. what warm, unspoken secrets will we learn?
As I finished singing the Don's verse, I was shocked to see a change overcome her, and she turned to me suddenly, a curious glint in her eyes. What are you up to Christine, I wondered, and the mantel of fearlessness that had come over me in those first minutes slipped away. She had never approached me without timidity, and suddenly, now she was closing the distance between us.. I turned to the table, and seated myself, trying to follow the direction of the scene, even as confusion settled over me. When she began to sing, my God, I felt as if I would die. I suddenly realized what she intended to do, and I like a fool, had given her the means to deliver this sudden punishment on me.
I had seduced her with my music and my voice, now it was her turn. I had written this music for her, and she was going to use it against me now. I was weakened before her voice. If you only knew, I thought bitterly, that your voice has always made me weak... but now, it burns! I was having a horrible time containing the passionate turmoil that threatened to make me reach out and capture her in my arms, steal her away, and never, ever let that boy have her... She seemed to draw out the notes and words, the lyrics that twisted painfully into me like a knife.. Bodies entwining.. No second thoughts... until we're one.. When she wrapped her arms around me, I could not keep the moan that escaped my lips from happening. Oh Christine, how wrong I was child, to think you so innocent and pure, for now you are driving me mad!
Chapter 4: The one I will become....
Erik
She was breathtaking. Every note, every phrase, perfect. My heart rose and fell as her voice soared on wings of music... music I had written for her. Even in my despair, and even though that boy owned her heart, I still possessed her voice. I had positioned myself in a secret space I had made in the wall on the left side of the stage, and though I could not see Christine from there, I heard her... When her song ended, I heard the tremendous ovation from the auditorium, and knew just how triumphant she had been. There it was again, that tightening feeling inside my chest.. I closed my eyes against it, willing the weakness away that threatened me. I could not falter.. I had made my choice. I could not turn back from it.
I cursed myself for writing my opera this long. I grimaced whenever the chorus sang, for even in her demoted position, Carlotta's shrill voice was a botch in the ointment I called my magnum opus. Nearly three hours I waited, and though it was cramped I stayed in my hidden place, until the moment I had been waiting for finally came. Don Juan, who was Signor Piangi, sang the lines I had been waiting to hear. At this moment in my opera, the Don was planning with his friend to lure the most beautiful servant girl in his entire estates to his bed. I smiled at the bitter irony of it. Don Juan took women like I wrote music - often, and with passion. Yet I, the composer of this opera had never once had a woman... and I never would. Doubtlessly, Don Juan would live on in stories though the centuries, and have many more women. Curse you fate, for giving me this face, and for also giving me a heart that was stolen by an angelic chorus girl...
As Signor Pinagi took his leave from center stage and retired behind a set piece, waiting for the moment he was to next make his entrance and seduce my darling Christine in her role of Aminta, I slipped from my hiding place, and neatly garroted him with a swift movement. Oh yes, I killed him, and without a second though... I was about to sign my own death warrant, I thought grimly as dressed myself in Don Juan's black cloak, and pulled the hood over my head, why should I pay any heed to killing people now? Christine already considered me a monster... One more death would hardly matter... And I could not disappoint her opinion of me now by becoming soft! I was already nothing to her...
The tightening in my chest threatened to stop my heart, and the moment I threw back the curtain of the set piece to reveal myself to Christine, and indeed the entire opera house, I nearly cried out, for the pain was unbearable. Almost... but I did not cry, for one glance at Christine, and the sorrow, rage, and passion that I had been driven to because of her overcame my fear. I had not been this close to her for a month, as she had stopped coming to me for her lessons. She looked very pale, and for a moment I wondered if she were ill... She turned her back to me, or rather, to the Don shyly, glancing over her shoulder coyly. It a movement scripted yet it consumed me with a sudden desire to reach out and capture her in my arms. All my feelings of weakness dissipated.
As I stepped toward her, and unfurled my hand, I began the first note, and watched her react to it with her entire being.
You have come here.
I had known from the first moment I began to sing she would know me, and she did. I could see her through the thin fabric of the cloak I wore, and she started as if an electrical current had shocked her. She knew my voice. She whirled around to stare at me, and I could see her glance around herself, unsure of what to do. Lifting the prop chalice to her, she took it, and drank the non-existent liquid within, her eyes wide with horror. The moment I pulled the chalice away, she turned, and fled to the other side of the table, yet another set piece in this scene, confusion plainly etched on her face. I wondered for a moment if the managers or that boy had noticed that the scene unraveling onstage was not the scene that had been intended. By now, Aminta should have been quite intoxicated from the wine and the Don's words...
I advanced toward her, wrapping her in the melody on the song. The song was about lust, passion, rage, and desire, and at that moment I sang it truer than I had ever sung it while hiding away in the cellars, writing my opera. I took Christine's hand in mine, and she gasped as I pulled her toward the bed that Don Juan intended on sharing with his heart's desire... No use resisting: abandon thought, and let the dream descend . . . She jerked away from me, as was scripted, but with a terror that was real. Ah yes, Christine, now you see the irony of my music.. I write of love and desire when you would think of me only as a monster and a beast.. what warm, unspoken secrets will we learn?
As I finished singing the Don's verse, I was shocked to see a change overcome her, and she turned to me suddenly, a curious glint in her eyes. What are you up to Christine, I wondered, and the mantel of fearlessness that had come over me in those first minutes slipped away. She had never approached me without timidity, and suddenly, now she was closing the distance between us.. I turned to the table, and seated myself, trying to follow the direction of the scene, even as confusion settled over me. When she began to sing, my God, I felt as if I would die. I suddenly realized what she intended to do, and I like a fool, had given her the means to deliver this sudden punishment on me.
I had seduced her with my music and my voice, now it was her turn. I had written this music for her, and she was going to use it against me now. I was weakened before her voice. If you only knew, I thought bitterly, that your voice has always made me weak... but now, it burns! I was having a horrible time containing the passionate turmoil that threatened to make me reach out and capture her in my arms, steal her away, and never, ever let that boy have her... She seemed to draw out the notes and words, the lyrics that twisted painfully into me like a knife.. Bodies entwining.. No second thoughts... until we're one.. When she wrapped her arms around me, I could not keep the moan that escaped my lips from happening. Oh Christine, how wrong I was child, to think you so innocent and pure, for now you are driving me mad!