París 1919
The day when the rain threatened to fall and the wind to freeze a run down building located in the warmth of the Parisian city. Formerly it was considered a home for heat and bustle, today it was the home of cold and the public had abandoned it decades ago, even so, it never stopped showing its majestic site from the day it represented all those relatives who came to see it up close.
Giant, bone-colored, with its majestic gargoyles and marble reliefs, the Paris Opera (with all its visible deterioration) stood out among the abandoned buildings that surrounded it, decorating the square that belonged to it. That very day that this took place, some children were playing outside the opera, hiding behind the gigantic gargoyles and jumping down the stairs one by one, despite the polar cold that ran through their fragile bodies, those young and strong children with their bodies full of energy enjoyed everything like uncontrollable burning flames, seeing them in the distance that distinguished elderly man who arrived in a modest carriage pulled by two thoroughbreds, He admire them for the simple fact of being free and happy in the same place and in the same way as he was in his youth.
Beck Oliver, Viscount de Chagny, traveled a great distance from his home just to be able to attend the public auction that was taking place in that old host of emotions, he still remembered when it still belonged to him. At his side was his indispensable nurse and his loyal butler, they would accompany him in every hard and difficult moment that he would suffer during his visit to the auction with all the memories and feelings lived by him. The carriage was parked in front of the great oak door that had lived better moments, that with its imposingness welcomed the public, with two cherubs on the pillars, the first to go down was the butler followed by the young nurse, leaving to the Viscount for a while in his silent solitude, Beck limited himself to continue looking through the window of his carriage at the infants who, without caring about the presence of a carriage with a royal logo, were still playing and doing little mischief like free souls that they were, during that short span of time he wondered if his freedom was ever as complete as that of those children… he fell silent as he remembered the truth of his frustrated freedom. Suddenly the door opened interrupting his thoughts, letting a cold breeze envelop him causing his deteriorated body to tremble inadvertently, soft and at the same time warm hands took him carefully by the shoulders, looking at Jackelyn he smiled at her without showing his teeth while between the two employees they helped him sit on his wheelchair; Jackelyn, his sweet and indispensable nurse, lovingly placed his top hat on him while fixing his jacket, showing a slight smile at all times, which made him feel nostalgic since it was the second time.
They entered the building where the auction had already started for quite some time now, several items had already been auctioned off to the buyers who were victorious inside the room, but the item that really mattered to him was still there, waiting to finally be bought. Among the distinguished people who had been there, he recognized some faces from his days as Owner of the Opera, among that crowd he distinguished a distant but recognizable by her long reddish hair and pearly skin, Madame Valentine, dressed in blue from head to toe, raising the dark black of his eyes, leaving aside the marks of the years that gleamed on his skin.
Sensing his presence, Madame Valentine smiled sweetly at him for a few seconds to greet him with her head, even though she stayed away as if with just her gaze she could convey everything she felt and she did not and even without speaking, Beck Oliver understood that just by looking at her, that she was really happy to see him.
"Lot 665, ladies and gentlemen,"-the auctioneer's voice caught everyone's attention including Mr. Oliver's, turning his gaze away from the beautiful woman to focus on what the man had to say-"A music box made of pasta paper in the shape of a barrel organ, next to it the figure of a monkey in a Persian costume, playing the timpani"
One of those in charge of the auction carefully took the object in his hands showing it to everyone so that it would be admired. When Beck saw it his heart raced, that Persian monkey was what he has been looking for so much extensively , promptly it is now there so close to him that he could touch it, he looked back at Madame Valentine who with a slight smile winked at him, looking at the man again. Doll in the hands of the manager, for the first time in his life he couldn't guess what those sweet eyes wanted to convey.
"This object was found in the vaults of the Theater. Still in a perfect working order, let's start the auction for fifteen francs"-announced the auctioneer to the potential buyers.
Immediately one of the attendees raised his hand as a sign of offer-"Fifteen, thank you very much"-added the auctioneer.
Beck, without wasting time, rushed to pull Jackelin's hand as a sign that she wanted to offer and the young woman raised her hand, causing the manager to look at her.- "Twenty for you sir, thank you very much... Madame Valentine, Twenty-five, thank you Madame ."
The look of confusion the viscount wore was to be expected, he directed his dark brown eyes to Madame Valentine's, she shrugged her shoulders gently and in amusement. Beck, hearing that the auction for the monkey would end with Madame's twenty-five, quickly touched her nurse again so that she would raise her offer to thirty francs for the music box, if necessary it would reach one hundred.
"We have thirty around here, does anyone give thirty-five?" -All eyes fell on the distinguished Valentine, hoping that she would offer more. She with tender eyes looked at Mr. Oliver who was looking at her begging her not to offer more of her… She simply shook her head in the direction of the manager.
"Sold for thirty francs!" shouted the man, pointing to Mr. Oliver. "To the Viscount de Chagny, thank you very much sir."
The old man's hands trembled at the touch of the music box in his hands. It was soft, colorful while a little heavy but without exaggeration, the monkey who dressed like a genius from a children's stories looked at him waiting to play his kettledrums for him,{A collector's item in fact...} he thought while admiring the Persian toy {every detail, exactly as Ella said} running his weary fingers over the animal figure, a wave of longing washed over him, as in a whisper only audible to the two of them, he spoke, "You'll keep playing when the rest of us are dead, little one." bow"
"Lot 666, an old chandelier in pieces"-the group headed to where the piece to be auctioned was located, landing right in front of it, the auctioneer continued with the sale. "I'm sure some of you know the story of the Phantom of the Opera; An unsolved mystery…"
"Ladies and gentlemen we are saying that this is the same chandelier that was in the famous disaster"-as if their eyes were calling Madame Valentine and Viscount Beck Oliver shared glances again, remembering together that disaster known to all. "Our workers have worked hard on it and have adapted it to electric light. Who knows, maybe we can chase away the ghost of so many years ago with a little clarity, Gentlemen!"
At the back of the room, wrapped in a canvas, was the renovated chandelier, some workers were untying safety ropes for the demonstration of this beautiful artifact that had been in decline for so many years.
Suddenly the canvas that covered the chandelier was removed, its lights turned on causing sparks to fly in the circuits, somewhere on the roof of the theater a group of workers used all their strength to lift that artifact, up to its former glory causing the crystals of this will sound endlessly listening like a silver rain.
As the chandelier rose, the memories returned to the memory of all those present, taking them on a trip to the past, where the theater was the cradle of culture and entertainment. Beck experienced a wave of memories so sudden that he could tell that the now abandoned and dingy looked as if it had never been through that fateful accident. The dust-grey seats returned to their old crimson red, the rubble-covered walls and curtains reverted to the works of art that had once been filled with paintings and gazing cherubs, the statues that decorated the balconies reappeared from among the gloom, you could admire the gold in all the existing places and the lights returned to illuminate the darkness that now dominated the building... And of course, the center of everything, the crystal chandelier that returned to its place, decorating the detailed ceiling with its indisputable brilliance.
Time receded like the rope that bound the chandelier, taking it back to the past where it once dwelt. When Paris was colorful and not gray, when the sky was sunny and the breeze cool, when his hair was dark and not white, when he tied his hair in a ponytail, when he wore casual suits of all colors and wore walking boots, when he rode on horseback and fought with swords... When he could walk and when he arrived at that place for the first time, innocent that there he would meet his only and first love.