1Disclaimer: Must we persist in this? I can give you my personal assurance that I do not own The Phantom of the Opera, saavy? Alright, now that I have hopefully convinced you for the third time, let us proceed.
Chapter 3
Erik
Erik watched from the shadows as Christine alighted from the Vicomte de Chagny's carriage and kissed him goodnight. Pain surged through him, the unquenchable pain that he felt every time he knew she had been in his company. The pain of one who's love has been rejected for the hundredth, perhaps thousandth, time. He hid in the shadows as she walked past him, following her unnoticed until they were walking the dark halls together.
"You have been in the company of the young Vicomte yet again, mademoiselle." He spoke suddenly and quietly from behind her, scaring her out of her wits.
"Angel!" She gasped in surprise, placing her hand over her heart in an attempt to slow down it's beat to a normal rate.
"Angel indeed!" Erik spat out. "Yes, Christine, your angel of music who has done so much for you and is betrayed again and again by your thoughtless acts of cruelty."
"Cruelty, monsieur? I'm afraid I don't know what you mean."
"You know exactly what I mean, miss Daae, and don't pretend that you don't."
Christine could barely see him in the darkness behind her, she could merely hear the rustle of his cloak, the soft footsteps of his booted feet, and the chilling sound of his voice, but that was enough. Erik was not the sort one wanted to anger.
"If my friendship with the Vicomte de Chagny is so disturbing to you, Ghost, allow me to assure you that he is an old friend, and could never offer me what you have."
"He most certainly could not. But there are other things that he is offering to you, Christine. His youth, his riches, and last but certainly not least in your mind is his looks, his untainted looks which cast thrills into your heart each and every time you see him." Erik said bitterly. "Yes, he is more pleasing to the eye than I."
"Erik, Raoul is an old friend, from my childhood."
"Is that all?" The phantom asked dryly from the darkness behind her. "Hmph, I never knew childhood friends could become so close in their adulthood as to fool others into thinking they were in love."
"No one could ever take your place, Erik."
"Indeed they could not, but I wonder sometimes, Christine, whether or not you fully comprehend that." He opened the door to the torch-lit room in which they had rehearsed that morning and gestured for her to walk inside. She obeyed him with little hesitation and stepped inside, followed quickly by Erik, who locked the door and seated himself behind the grand piano to begin their rehearsal. "Let us see if you remember what we went over this morning, my dear. Sing "Noble Knight" for me again."
The piano began to play as beautifully as it always did when Erik played it's black and white keys. He played as no one else did, or could, with such passion and intensity that it enthralled all who listened, and Christine was once again cast under the spell of his music and his voice.
She sang angelically in that night's performance, even though the music wasn't half as beautiful without Erik playing it. Erik sat in box five, listening intently to his pupil, and watching her suitor in the box across from him, who seemed to be as enthralled by her as the rest of the audience.
Christine, my Christine. How can I survive without you? I know you sing for him, I know that I am second in your thoughts. Can't you love me? Can you ever bring yourself to love such a monster as I?
And no one ever saw the tears that he shed that night in the darkened box behind his mask, and he revealed his pain to no one, concealing it as he always had from the outside world as carefully as he had concealed himself.
I gave you my music...
made your song take wing...
and now, how you've repaid me:
denied me and betrayed me...
He was bound to love you
when he heard you sing...
Christine...
Christine...
