Beneath the Opera House: Water Under The Bridge
Phantom of the Opera fanfiction
immo - immo@hamena.org
No comment is bad comment. So review! You think I'm out of character, help me out a bit! I'm still in the stage of
developing characters. And remember, as I'm writing, I'm also bogged down by exams! So some of this might not make
sense for reason! Because I am not making sense! :D
Reviewreviewsreviews keeps the immo chugging out more of this stuff. Is that good? Is that bad? Who knows! Wow, I'm
really on a roll here. That's, what, 4 chapters in 2 days?
~~~
It had all been a dream, she was sure of it.
There had been no angel, Élise thought bitterly. Only the overactive imagination of a girl.
But she had been so certain... her throat still tingled with gold.
"Maybe you were knocked upside the head a bit too hard." Danielle had looked at her doubtfully, when,
weeping, she had poured out the story to the two women who waited for her at the car.
"Sweetheart, do you miss maman?" Anna looked at Élise sadly.
Élise didn't fault her sister for feeling that way. When her mother had died, she would make up stories,
tell her sister that she saw their maman in the moonlight and that she told her she loved her. Argued, that when the
flowers on their windowsills died because nobody watered them, it was really because that was just her maman showing
she was sad that papa was so sad.
She had been obsessed with the figure of the Angel of Music. When she and her sister were little, their
mother would tell them stories of the Angel of Music. Stories passed down through generations, for little girls to
hear. To hold dear when thunderstorms frightened them.
Élise had even arrived early, to search for her angel. Had stood there on stage and called, and a voice had
answered.
"I'm here, I'm here! Your angel, baby! Give me some sugar!"
Raucous laughter chased her all the way off the stage. She had forgotten that the light crew was here early
as well.
Élise was taking a break now. The signora had gone to take a nap in her new dressing room.
"What's wrong, Élee?" Danielle rarely used her nickname with her unless she was very concerned.
"Its... its nothing." Élise cracked a smile.
"Where's the prima donna?" Danielle cast a look about. From the tone of Danielle's voice, Élise could tell
the ballerina wasn't impressed by the star at all. "She let you off your leash?"
"She's sleeping."
Danielle laughed derisively. "Her royalty gets tired so easily. She could stand to lose a few pounds. Even
Missy Elliot did it, you know, for health reasons."
"Danielle!" Nini, one of the ballerinas called for the brunette. "Could you help me out with something?"
"Be right back, okay?" Danielle winked, then went off to see what the girl needed.
Several youngsters were sitting around in their tutus. They were supposed to play cherubs, but right now
they were also resting. The smallest one, named Elaine, was stealing glances at Élise when she thought the older
girl wasn't looking.
"Hey," Élise caught the little girl looking at her, and smiled kindly to show she wasn't angry. "What are
you looking at?"
Elaine looked at Élise with glowing eyes. "J-Justine said that-that George said you see angels. Do you
really?"
The other little girl next to Elaine peeked out from over Elaine's shoulder, regarding Élise shyly.
"Well," Élise blushed, embarassed. So the story was going around. Courtesy of George, one of the stage guys.
It must have been him who had called out to her.
"It's a story my maman used to tell me." On a whim, Élise offered to tell them the story, and squealing
'oui's answered her.
"Well, girls. There once was a young singer, who wasn't very good." Élise smiled sadly. "She would try her
best, the best that she could, but she couldn't sing. You see, she had lost her papa--"
Élise hadn't realized until now how much that story reflected her situation.
"And? And?"
Élise smiled, and trudged on. "When her papa died, she was very sad. But he told her, 'Don't be sad. When I
go to heaven, I'll send you an Angel of Music'. And she waited for so long, but no angel was sent to her. And she
stopped believing in heaven."
"Non!" The little girls gasped dramatically, getting into the story. Élise laughed, and allowed little
Justine to crawl into her lap to listen to her.
"Oui. One day, though, while she was in her dressing room, she heard the most beautiful voice in the world!
And it was the very angel that the poor girl's father had told her about!" Now Élise was caught up in the story,
seeing how much the children liked it. And she had to admit, it was her favorite childhood story. "And the voice
promised to help her get better, and she--"
"Never got better at singing. She remained a dellusional girl who's too poor to get proper singing lessons."
Kristin sat down right beside Élise and gave the girl a smug grin. "Bonjour, Élise. As soon as I came in, and
George told me about your 'visions', I decided to have a little talk with you."
"Angels are real!" Justine protested, looking ready to cry.
"Of course they are, little one." Kristin chuckled, eyes never leaving Élise's. "But... angels don't appear
to those who are unworthy."
Before Élise could stop herself, she hissed out. "I *am* worthy."
"Oho!" Kristin grinned, happy that she was getting a rise out of the usually docile girl. "I heard your
happy little story, Élise. And it was... a nice story, wasn't it, children?"
"Oui!" Justine and Elaine both agreed.
"Okay now, shoo, see what Mme Rousseau can do with you two! Élise and I have to talk." The children nodded,
and scattered. When the were gone, Kristin smirked at Élise. "Children should always retain their innocence, don't
you think?"
The young Chagny bit on her lip to stop from replying. If she rose to the bait, Kristin would just continue
torturing her. If she didn't, the chorus girl would leave her alone.
"Oh, look, Élise! An angel!" Kristin gasped mockingly, as George pranced into her view, wearing a pair of
wings. "Mon dieu, who knew they existed?"
Just... don't say anything...
Élise refused to give Kristin the satisfaction of seeing her cry.
"Kristin!" Danielle was heading towards them, a storm brewing in her eyes. "Leave her ALONE!"
Kristin eyed the approaching woman, and turned back to Élise carelessly, leaning in close to whisper into
Élise's ear.
"You and I both know your mother was never right in the head. Even before she got cancer in her brain. She
was crazy. Huh. Maybe that's where you got it from, huh?"
Élise shot out of her seat, tears streaming down her face, and ran for the exit.
She heard Danielle calling out her name, but she kept running. George laughed, dancing after her, only
leaving when she had flown through the auditorium doors.
"You--"
"Uh-uh." Kristin stood up, still smiling. "Careful what you say, Danielle."
"Why don't you just leave her alone?!" Danielle hissed. She pointed over at George, who was now flirting
with the ballerinas. "That was overkill! Why can't you just let the past die?! Or since you like hurting her so
much, why don't you just get her kicked out of the Opera House?!"
"Let the past die?" Kristin's voice was ice-cold now. "No. What I did just there, that was not overkill. And
kicking her out, please, Danielle. Do I look like a fool? I'd have way more fun with her here. If she's so unhappy
here, she should leave by herself."
"Please, Kristin."
"You chose your side, Danielle." Kristin's beautiful face was twisted into an ugly visage. "And since you
were my friend, I'm not going to hurt you unless you get in my way. I'm going to make Élise feel worst than what I
felt when--" Kristin's jaw clamped down on the words that were going to come out. Then she turned on her heels and
headed out the way Élise went.
"Its not good for our dear Élise to get a big head. Even though she's serving the Milanese Nightingale, she
should remember that no matter who's she serving, it still makes her a servant." Kristin turned around to smile at
Danielle. "Poor Élise has all these dreams... its better for me to tell her they'll never come true, instead of her
trying and trying, but never succeeding. N'est-ce pas?"
~~~
"Hey, what's the hurry!" Élise bumped into Sean as she ran out of the Opera House. "Hey... Élise? What's
wrong?"
"I-I--" She couldn't seem to get the words out through the sobs.
"Is it Kristin?!" Sean grasped her shoulders. "Look at me: Is it that fucking girl? That's it. She's dead."
"Non, Sean... no!" Her mind raced to find an appropriate lie, and she quickly picked one, which wasn't
really a lie. "Non, Sean, I just miss my mother."
His face scrunched up into a frown, and he looked at her suspiciously, trying to see if she was lying or
not. Finally, something gave, and his stance relaxed.
"You okay?" Sean lead her to the side so they could sit on the steps without blocking people going exiting
and entering the Paris Opera House. "What set it off?"
"Its just... well, there were children dressed as angels, singing..." Élise was grabbing at straws here.
"Ah," Sean nodded sagely. "The Angel of Music story. I remember you telling me about that."
"Well, they were telling the children angels don't exist--" Élise started blubbering again. Even though the
story was partly fabrication, how much Kristin's words had effected her, wasn't.
"Ha, that's it?" Sean grinned at her. "Come on, Élise, you know people like those!"
Élise looked up at Sean miserably.
"They don't believe in angels. So they'll never see any angels." Sean kissed the trails of her tears away.
"You believe in angels, right? It doesn't matter what other people think, you'll see your angels one day. And those
people? They'll be missing out."
"You don't think I'm stupid and childish?" Élise smiled up at him, and he kissed her again.
"Ha, of course I do!"
"Hey!"
"But," Sean raised up a hand. "That's what I like about you."
"You like it when I'm childish?"
"Damn right."
"Ewww, I'm dating a pedophile!" Élise teased.
"Well, pedophile am I?" Sean growled playfully. "I'm just going to eat you up right here!"
He alternated between nipping at her ears, to kissing her, reducing her giggling to soft sighs.
"Better?" Sean pressed his forehead against hers.
"Much." Élise smiled.
"Hey, aren't you supposed to be looking after that.. uh.. Malaysian Nightingale or something?" The dark-eyed
boy looked around. "Where is she?"
"Oh, damnit!" Élise cursed softly. "She's going to be waking up any minute now, Sean. I'm sorry, I can't
stay."
"That's okay, I, um, just dropped by to get you this." He passed her a styrofoam box.
"Crêpes!" Élise almost squealed in glee. What it was was a thin pancake wrapped in, well, whatever you liked
to put in it. Élise liked chocolate icecream, strawberries, and whipped cream in hers. Which was exactly what Sean
brought.
"Yeah, thought you would like it." Sean leaned forward and kissed her again, sweetly. "Do you mind if I drop
by tonight?"
"No problem." Élise gave him one last kiss before running back up the steps. "I'll see you tonight!"
Élise raced back into the Opera House, to Bianca Castafiore's dressing room where she was just waking up.
"Élise, ah, you are here." Signora Castafiore sat up and stretched. "Be a dear and find my accompanist and
Monsieur Rains that I am ready to sing again."
"At once, signora." Élise couldn't help the smile that came to her lips when the signora struggled to get
up off the couch. Danielle's words came back to her, and she could imagine the girl doing one of her famous
imitations of people, as she ran off to do as she was told.
~~~
INSOLENT FOOL! He dared to mock the Angel of Music?!
His wrath was deadly, and he peered down from the chandelier, watching the boy.
And he had made Élise cry. More and more, the girl reminded him of her great-grandmother... after he heard
the story, he did not doubt at all. Who this was. That was why he woke up. Tears was really the heart bleeding. Such
innocence... such INSOLENCE will not go unpunished!
This was the Phantom's second chance.
But as spirits were wont to do, they were compelled to do, to behave as they did in life.
So he stalked the boy, and watched him, and whispered into his ears. Laughed, so that only George heard him
laugh. All day, in his head. Pushing him towards the edge...
"You don't believe in angels, boy? You don't believe in angels?"
Nobody was allowed to hurt Christine. Nobody.
"Then perhaps, George, yes, I know you... perhaps... you believe in demons?"
Christine... Christine... have you come back to me?
Phantom of the Opera fanfiction
immo - immo@hamena.org
No comment is bad comment. So review! You think I'm out of character, help me out a bit! I'm still in the stage of
developing characters. And remember, as I'm writing, I'm also bogged down by exams! So some of this might not make
sense for reason! Because I am not making sense! :D
Reviewreviewsreviews keeps the immo chugging out more of this stuff. Is that good? Is that bad? Who knows! Wow, I'm
really on a roll here. That's, what, 4 chapters in 2 days?
~~~
It had all been a dream, she was sure of it.
There had been no angel, Élise thought bitterly. Only the overactive imagination of a girl.
But she had been so certain... her throat still tingled with gold.
"Maybe you were knocked upside the head a bit too hard." Danielle had looked at her doubtfully, when,
weeping, she had poured out the story to the two women who waited for her at the car.
"Sweetheart, do you miss maman?" Anna looked at Élise sadly.
Élise didn't fault her sister for feeling that way. When her mother had died, she would make up stories,
tell her sister that she saw their maman in the moonlight and that she told her she loved her. Argued, that when the
flowers on their windowsills died because nobody watered them, it was really because that was just her maman showing
she was sad that papa was so sad.
She had been obsessed with the figure of the Angel of Music. When she and her sister were little, their
mother would tell them stories of the Angel of Music. Stories passed down through generations, for little girls to
hear. To hold dear when thunderstorms frightened them.
Élise had even arrived early, to search for her angel. Had stood there on stage and called, and a voice had
answered.
"I'm here, I'm here! Your angel, baby! Give me some sugar!"
Raucous laughter chased her all the way off the stage. She had forgotten that the light crew was here early
as well.
Élise was taking a break now. The signora had gone to take a nap in her new dressing room.
"What's wrong, Élee?" Danielle rarely used her nickname with her unless she was very concerned.
"Its... its nothing." Élise cracked a smile.
"Where's the prima donna?" Danielle cast a look about. From the tone of Danielle's voice, Élise could tell
the ballerina wasn't impressed by the star at all. "She let you off your leash?"
"She's sleeping."
Danielle laughed derisively. "Her royalty gets tired so easily. She could stand to lose a few pounds. Even
Missy Elliot did it, you know, for health reasons."
"Danielle!" Nini, one of the ballerinas called for the brunette. "Could you help me out with something?"
"Be right back, okay?" Danielle winked, then went off to see what the girl needed.
Several youngsters were sitting around in their tutus. They were supposed to play cherubs, but right now
they were also resting. The smallest one, named Elaine, was stealing glances at Élise when she thought the older
girl wasn't looking.
"Hey," Élise caught the little girl looking at her, and smiled kindly to show she wasn't angry. "What are
you looking at?"
Elaine looked at Élise with glowing eyes. "J-Justine said that-that George said you see angels. Do you
really?"
The other little girl next to Elaine peeked out from over Elaine's shoulder, regarding Élise shyly.
"Well," Élise blushed, embarassed. So the story was going around. Courtesy of George, one of the stage guys.
It must have been him who had called out to her.
"It's a story my maman used to tell me." On a whim, Élise offered to tell them the story, and squealing
'oui's answered her.
"Well, girls. There once was a young singer, who wasn't very good." Élise smiled sadly. "She would try her
best, the best that she could, but she couldn't sing. You see, she had lost her papa--"
Élise hadn't realized until now how much that story reflected her situation.
"And? And?"
Élise smiled, and trudged on. "When her papa died, she was very sad. But he told her, 'Don't be sad. When I
go to heaven, I'll send you an Angel of Music'. And she waited for so long, but no angel was sent to her. And she
stopped believing in heaven."
"Non!" The little girls gasped dramatically, getting into the story. Élise laughed, and allowed little
Justine to crawl into her lap to listen to her.
"Oui. One day, though, while she was in her dressing room, she heard the most beautiful voice in the world!
And it was the very angel that the poor girl's father had told her about!" Now Élise was caught up in the story,
seeing how much the children liked it. And she had to admit, it was her favorite childhood story. "And the voice
promised to help her get better, and she--"
"Never got better at singing. She remained a dellusional girl who's too poor to get proper singing lessons."
Kristin sat down right beside Élise and gave the girl a smug grin. "Bonjour, Élise. As soon as I came in, and
George told me about your 'visions', I decided to have a little talk with you."
"Angels are real!" Justine protested, looking ready to cry.
"Of course they are, little one." Kristin chuckled, eyes never leaving Élise's. "But... angels don't appear
to those who are unworthy."
Before Élise could stop herself, she hissed out. "I *am* worthy."
"Oho!" Kristin grinned, happy that she was getting a rise out of the usually docile girl. "I heard your
happy little story, Élise. And it was... a nice story, wasn't it, children?"
"Oui!" Justine and Elaine both agreed.
"Okay now, shoo, see what Mme Rousseau can do with you two! Élise and I have to talk." The children nodded,
and scattered. When the were gone, Kristin smirked at Élise. "Children should always retain their innocence, don't
you think?"
The young Chagny bit on her lip to stop from replying. If she rose to the bait, Kristin would just continue
torturing her. If she didn't, the chorus girl would leave her alone.
"Oh, look, Élise! An angel!" Kristin gasped mockingly, as George pranced into her view, wearing a pair of
wings. "Mon dieu, who knew they existed?"
Just... don't say anything...
Élise refused to give Kristin the satisfaction of seeing her cry.
"Kristin!" Danielle was heading towards them, a storm brewing in her eyes. "Leave her ALONE!"
Kristin eyed the approaching woman, and turned back to Élise carelessly, leaning in close to whisper into
Élise's ear.
"You and I both know your mother was never right in the head. Even before she got cancer in her brain. She
was crazy. Huh. Maybe that's where you got it from, huh?"
Élise shot out of her seat, tears streaming down her face, and ran for the exit.
She heard Danielle calling out her name, but she kept running. George laughed, dancing after her, only
leaving when she had flown through the auditorium doors.
"You--"
"Uh-uh." Kristin stood up, still smiling. "Careful what you say, Danielle."
"Why don't you just leave her alone?!" Danielle hissed. She pointed over at George, who was now flirting
with the ballerinas. "That was overkill! Why can't you just let the past die?! Or since you like hurting her so
much, why don't you just get her kicked out of the Opera House?!"
"Let the past die?" Kristin's voice was ice-cold now. "No. What I did just there, that was not overkill. And
kicking her out, please, Danielle. Do I look like a fool? I'd have way more fun with her here. If she's so unhappy
here, she should leave by herself."
"Please, Kristin."
"You chose your side, Danielle." Kristin's beautiful face was twisted into an ugly visage. "And since you
were my friend, I'm not going to hurt you unless you get in my way. I'm going to make Élise feel worst than what I
felt when--" Kristin's jaw clamped down on the words that were going to come out. Then she turned on her heels and
headed out the way Élise went.
"Its not good for our dear Élise to get a big head. Even though she's serving the Milanese Nightingale, she
should remember that no matter who's she serving, it still makes her a servant." Kristin turned around to smile at
Danielle. "Poor Élise has all these dreams... its better for me to tell her they'll never come true, instead of her
trying and trying, but never succeeding. N'est-ce pas?"
~~~
"Hey, what's the hurry!" Élise bumped into Sean as she ran out of the Opera House. "Hey... Élise? What's
wrong?"
"I-I--" She couldn't seem to get the words out through the sobs.
"Is it Kristin?!" Sean grasped her shoulders. "Look at me: Is it that fucking girl? That's it. She's dead."
"Non, Sean... no!" Her mind raced to find an appropriate lie, and she quickly picked one, which wasn't
really a lie. "Non, Sean, I just miss my mother."
His face scrunched up into a frown, and he looked at her suspiciously, trying to see if she was lying or
not. Finally, something gave, and his stance relaxed.
"You okay?" Sean lead her to the side so they could sit on the steps without blocking people going exiting
and entering the Paris Opera House. "What set it off?"
"Its just... well, there were children dressed as angels, singing..." Élise was grabbing at straws here.
"Ah," Sean nodded sagely. "The Angel of Music story. I remember you telling me about that."
"Well, they were telling the children angels don't exist--" Élise started blubbering again. Even though the
story was partly fabrication, how much Kristin's words had effected her, wasn't.
"Ha, that's it?" Sean grinned at her. "Come on, Élise, you know people like those!"
Élise looked up at Sean miserably.
"They don't believe in angels. So they'll never see any angels." Sean kissed the trails of her tears away.
"You believe in angels, right? It doesn't matter what other people think, you'll see your angels one day. And those
people? They'll be missing out."
"You don't think I'm stupid and childish?" Élise smiled up at him, and he kissed her again.
"Ha, of course I do!"
"Hey!"
"But," Sean raised up a hand. "That's what I like about you."
"You like it when I'm childish?"
"Damn right."
"Ewww, I'm dating a pedophile!" Élise teased.
"Well, pedophile am I?" Sean growled playfully. "I'm just going to eat you up right here!"
He alternated between nipping at her ears, to kissing her, reducing her giggling to soft sighs.
"Better?" Sean pressed his forehead against hers.
"Much." Élise smiled.
"Hey, aren't you supposed to be looking after that.. uh.. Malaysian Nightingale or something?" The dark-eyed
boy looked around. "Where is she?"
"Oh, damnit!" Élise cursed softly. "She's going to be waking up any minute now, Sean. I'm sorry, I can't
stay."
"That's okay, I, um, just dropped by to get you this." He passed her a styrofoam box.
"Crêpes!" Élise almost squealed in glee. What it was was a thin pancake wrapped in, well, whatever you liked
to put in it. Élise liked chocolate icecream, strawberries, and whipped cream in hers. Which was exactly what Sean
brought.
"Yeah, thought you would like it." Sean leaned forward and kissed her again, sweetly. "Do you mind if I drop
by tonight?"
"No problem." Élise gave him one last kiss before running back up the steps. "I'll see you tonight!"
Élise raced back into the Opera House, to Bianca Castafiore's dressing room where she was just waking up.
"Élise, ah, you are here." Signora Castafiore sat up and stretched. "Be a dear and find my accompanist and
Monsieur Rains that I am ready to sing again."
"At once, signora." Élise couldn't help the smile that came to her lips when the signora struggled to get
up off the couch. Danielle's words came back to her, and she could imagine the girl doing one of her famous
imitations of people, as she ran off to do as she was told.
~~~
INSOLENT FOOL! He dared to mock the Angel of Music?!
His wrath was deadly, and he peered down from the chandelier, watching the boy.
And he had made Élise cry. More and more, the girl reminded him of her great-grandmother... after he heard
the story, he did not doubt at all. Who this was. That was why he woke up. Tears was really the heart bleeding. Such
innocence... such INSOLENCE will not go unpunished!
This was the Phantom's second chance.
But as spirits were wont to do, they were compelled to do, to behave as they did in life.
So he stalked the boy, and watched him, and whispered into his ears. Laughed, so that only George heard him
laugh. All day, in his head. Pushing him towards the edge...
"You don't believe in angels, boy? You don't believe in angels?"
Nobody was allowed to hurt Christine. Nobody.
"Then perhaps, George, yes, I know you... perhaps... you believe in demons?"
Christine... Christine... have you come back to me?