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, etc, etc. In
this chapter I also use some lyrics from Andrew Lloyd Webber's song "Past
the Point of No Return".
Still. I may not own Erik, but that doesn't mean I can't have him over for tea every so often.
A/N: Sorry it has taken so long for this chapter to come. College began, and life was hectic - but now it's winter break! YAY!
Chapter 5: Will catch me..
Christine
It was him.
I knew it, in that instant he began to sing, for no other man's voice could set my very soul at the gates of heaven and hell with every exalting, terrifying note. Oh God, he was surely even madder than I have thought! Did he not know what would happen if he were found out? How can I ever describe the sensations that ran through me at the sound of that voice? The horror. the fear!
My mind reeled confused by the thoughts and feelings that raced through me by turns. do not let them know Christine! A persistent voice cried in my head, don't let them know it is he! I mechanically followed the stage directions, taking the goblet and drinking from it. Don't let them know. why should I not let them know? Was I not terrified of Erik? Dear God, I was, more than I had ever been frightened by anyone in my life! When he took the chalice from my hand, I could not control myself any longer and I fled from him, like a startled deer. What did he want, why had he done this?
And then he began to come toward me, and I could not resist him or his voice. only Erik could ever cause me to forget everything with no more than his words. and never before had he sung with such fierceness! It frightened and exhilarated me. even the way he had sung that night he had taken me to his home for the first time paled in comparison to the sheer power he sang with now. He took my hand, and began to draw me with him toward Don Juan's bedchamber.And then. then I was struck with sudden realization, as the song - our song unfolded. For it truly was our song. How could I have been so blind? So many rehearsals, so many hours pouring over the score, singing and re-singing these words. these phrases that were like knives stabbing me ruthlessly into shame. He had written it for me, for him. could there ever have been any doubt?
The realization was like a slap, and I bolted away from him again, feeling my cheeks burning with shame. I was blind. I was foolish and I was blind.
I turned toward him, and stared at his shrouded form and for the briefest moment I thought I saw the hand he held between us tremble. Erik was never uncertain, it could not have been. but I had seen it, those graceful fingers quiver with an uncertainty. an undeniably real fear. I stepped toward him and he retreated, and sat at the table. all scripted movements, and yet he moved with a faltering hesitance that marred his normally graceful movements.
Oh Lord in heaven, I felt as if suddenly possessed and I began to sing as I had never sung before. You have brought me to that moment where words run dry. I went to him, drawn by that terrified and unspoken fear that radiated from his form hunched painful tense on the bench, as much as I was drawn to him by his voice. I have come here, hardly knowing the reason why . . . But I did not feel the hesitance I normally felt when in his presence. Always, he had been like a distant light, ever guiding me onward in darkness, but so far away. More ghost than man, more shadow than flesh. more unfeeling than real. my fear of him was in part due to that Erik never condescended to show any human emotion to me other than sorrow, rage, bitterness, and fury ever since that first night I went with him. so prideful. I never knew it at first.. He had always, always maintained an aloof, even cold façade between us since I had torn the mask from his face, a coldness that had only grown between us since the night disastrous opening night of Il Muto. His distant nature was even more of a mask than the one he wore. But the Erik sitting before me was different from the Erik I had come to fear. The Erik before me was as afraid of me as I was of him, and in the fear I saw a man - not a phantom, or an angel. he was as vulnerable as I had been and was.
I crossed the stage and went to him, still singing.. Bodies entwining.. No second thoughts... I was certain I saw him flinch as I circled around behind the bench where he sat. past the point of no return. When I leaned forward, pressing my chest into his back, and wrapped my arms around him, I heard him give an uncharacteristic moan, and his rigid body jolted. until we're one.. Oh god, what had I done?. Certainly someone in the wings or the managers had to realize now that something was amiss! I tightened my grip on his shoulders, The sleeping bud burst into bloom. and there was momentary falter in my voice. A falter which he heard. and he seemed in that moment to regain some sense of power that he always had about him, for I could feel his shoulders squaring, he lifted his chin, and I could feel his quickened breaths slow suddenly.
He his hands, following the direction of the scripted movements. I raised my hands, locking his trembling fingers with my own... Strange, how their coldness did not frighten me now. The final threshold.the bridge is crossed. He rose and pulled me by the hand once again, and I could feel his eyes locked with my own even thought the cloak and scarf covered him. I wanted to desperately to look into their depths and see if the fear I felt was mirrored there as well. The hand that held my own was firm as he led me, and his voice drew me also. have gladly followed anywhere then, if he had wished it, for I forgot everything then as I had done before that evening he took me with him to the house on the lake. so stand and watch it burn., we've passed the point. of no return.
Then I did something quite foolish, which I now blame upon the state of dazed intoxication I was under. Giving into the mad desire to look into his eyes without obstruction I lifted my hands and swiftly flipped back the hood of the cloak. and for a fleeting moment I saw that fear that I had thought would there. But it was replaced almost immediately by a look of surprise and confusion. Confusion I shared, for when he turned away from me the spell between us was broken, and I turned away as well, in time to see the managers and Raoul coming toward us from the side of the stage. I made a gesture to them and looked to Raoul, who hesitated and then stopped, laying his hands on the Monsieur Moncharmin and Monsieur Richard's shoulders. the three of them standing there, waiting to close in and end the nightmare.
Nightmare? Erik was not a nightmare. If there were a nightmare that I feared it was the darkness inside of myself.. not the nightmare that Raoul or the managers feared. the managers feared the nightmare of loosing their precious business and reputations. and Raoul feared loosing me. No. he feared loosing something for the first time in his life. he could not bear the thought! I could see it in his eyes as he watched me.It was as though he were looking through me and only seeing the goal of obtaining. winning. defeating the enemy to win the prize. No. There was no nightmare, only deceit and betrayal staining all of us with it's crimson mark on our souls.
I turned back to Erik, and he turned as well, watching me warily. It was only a few moments that we studied one another, no longer a dividing line of student and maestro dividing us, for we were both novices in a game neither of us completely understood. Those moments felt like an eternity until he at last, a seeming resignation overcoming him, raised his hands once more toward me, and again began to sing.
Still. I may not own Erik, but that doesn't mean I can't have him over for tea every so often.
A/N: Sorry it has taken so long for this chapter to come. College began, and life was hectic - but now it's winter break! YAY!
Chapter 5: Will catch me..
Christine
It was him.
I knew it, in that instant he began to sing, for no other man's voice could set my very soul at the gates of heaven and hell with every exalting, terrifying note. Oh God, he was surely even madder than I have thought! Did he not know what would happen if he were found out? How can I ever describe the sensations that ran through me at the sound of that voice? The horror. the fear!
My mind reeled confused by the thoughts and feelings that raced through me by turns. do not let them know Christine! A persistent voice cried in my head, don't let them know it is he! I mechanically followed the stage directions, taking the goblet and drinking from it. Don't let them know. why should I not let them know? Was I not terrified of Erik? Dear God, I was, more than I had ever been frightened by anyone in my life! When he took the chalice from my hand, I could not control myself any longer and I fled from him, like a startled deer. What did he want, why had he done this?
And then he began to come toward me, and I could not resist him or his voice. only Erik could ever cause me to forget everything with no more than his words. and never before had he sung with such fierceness! It frightened and exhilarated me. even the way he had sung that night he had taken me to his home for the first time paled in comparison to the sheer power he sang with now. He took my hand, and began to draw me with him toward Don Juan's bedchamber.And then. then I was struck with sudden realization, as the song - our song unfolded. For it truly was our song. How could I have been so blind? So many rehearsals, so many hours pouring over the score, singing and re-singing these words. these phrases that were like knives stabbing me ruthlessly into shame. He had written it for me, for him. could there ever have been any doubt?
The realization was like a slap, and I bolted away from him again, feeling my cheeks burning with shame. I was blind. I was foolish and I was blind.
I turned toward him, and stared at his shrouded form and for the briefest moment I thought I saw the hand he held between us tremble. Erik was never uncertain, it could not have been. but I had seen it, those graceful fingers quiver with an uncertainty. an undeniably real fear. I stepped toward him and he retreated, and sat at the table. all scripted movements, and yet he moved with a faltering hesitance that marred his normally graceful movements.
Oh Lord in heaven, I felt as if suddenly possessed and I began to sing as I had never sung before. You have brought me to that moment where words run dry. I went to him, drawn by that terrified and unspoken fear that radiated from his form hunched painful tense on the bench, as much as I was drawn to him by his voice. I have come here, hardly knowing the reason why . . . But I did not feel the hesitance I normally felt when in his presence. Always, he had been like a distant light, ever guiding me onward in darkness, but so far away. More ghost than man, more shadow than flesh. more unfeeling than real. my fear of him was in part due to that Erik never condescended to show any human emotion to me other than sorrow, rage, bitterness, and fury ever since that first night I went with him. so prideful. I never knew it at first.. He had always, always maintained an aloof, even cold façade between us since I had torn the mask from his face, a coldness that had only grown between us since the night disastrous opening night of Il Muto. His distant nature was even more of a mask than the one he wore. But the Erik sitting before me was different from the Erik I had come to fear. The Erik before me was as afraid of me as I was of him, and in the fear I saw a man - not a phantom, or an angel. he was as vulnerable as I had been and was.
I crossed the stage and went to him, still singing.. Bodies entwining.. No second thoughts... I was certain I saw him flinch as I circled around behind the bench where he sat. past the point of no return. When I leaned forward, pressing my chest into his back, and wrapped my arms around him, I heard him give an uncharacteristic moan, and his rigid body jolted. until we're one.. Oh god, what had I done?. Certainly someone in the wings or the managers had to realize now that something was amiss! I tightened my grip on his shoulders, The sleeping bud burst into bloom. and there was momentary falter in my voice. A falter which he heard. and he seemed in that moment to regain some sense of power that he always had about him, for I could feel his shoulders squaring, he lifted his chin, and I could feel his quickened breaths slow suddenly.
He his hands, following the direction of the scripted movements. I raised my hands, locking his trembling fingers with my own... Strange, how their coldness did not frighten me now. The final threshold.the bridge is crossed. He rose and pulled me by the hand once again, and I could feel his eyes locked with my own even thought the cloak and scarf covered him. I wanted to desperately to look into their depths and see if the fear I felt was mirrored there as well. The hand that held my own was firm as he led me, and his voice drew me also. have gladly followed anywhere then, if he had wished it, for I forgot everything then as I had done before that evening he took me with him to the house on the lake. so stand and watch it burn., we've passed the point. of no return.
Then I did something quite foolish, which I now blame upon the state of dazed intoxication I was under. Giving into the mad desire to look into his eyes without obstruction I lifted my hands and swiftly flipped back the hood of the cloak. and for a fleeting moment I saw that fear that I had thought would there. But it was replaced almost immediately by a look of surprise and confusion. Confusion I shared, for when he turned away from me the spell between us was broken, and I turned away as well, in time to see the managers and Raoul coming toward us from the side of the stage. I made a gesture to them and looked to Raoul, who hesitated and then stopped, laying his hands on the Monsieur Moncharmin and Monsieur Richard's shoulders. the three of them standing there, waiting to close in and end the nightmare.
Nightmare? Erik was not a nightmare. If there were a nightmare that I feared it was the darkness inside of myself.. not the nightmare that Raoul or the managers feared. the managers feared the nightmare of loosing their precious business and reputations. and Raoul feared loosing me. No. he feared loosing something for the first time in his life. he could not bear the thought! I could see it in his eyes as he watched me.It was as though he were looking through me and only seeing the goal of obtaining. winning. defeating the enemy to win the prize. No. There was no nightmare, only deceit and betrayal staining all of us with it's crimson mark on our souls.
I turned back to Erik, and he turned as well, watching me warily. It was only a few moments that we studied one another, no longer a dividing line of student and maestro dividing us, for we were both novices in a game neither of us completely understood. Those moments felt like an eternity until he at last, a seeming resignation overcoming him, raised his hands once more toward me, and again began to sing.