Fading Dreams

By: Megan Taylor

Disclaimer: I do not own Eric or Christine. I wish I owned Eric (that would certainly be awesome) but unfortunately I don't and so I guess I'll just have to keep dreaming with him inside my mind . . .

Christine lay back on her bed, somewhat in a daydream. There had been a boat, mist, and a man – who oddly enough – sang to her with a voice of an angel. A smile lay placidly on her face, as gentle hands were removed from her body, the sweet Angel of Music continued to hum a familiar tune until at last it vanished entirely.

Late at night when all the world is sleeping

I stay up and think of you

Although there was a repetitive annoying knock on the door, Christine could hardly hear it, as her brown eyes stared up at the ceiling of the room. There wasn't just an empty wall staring back, but a clear image of that same man with a mask over his face, singing to her.

It was strange to her to cover his face when there was nothing bothersome underneath. The contour of his masculine face drove her to almost the point of insanity. Could this be real? She questioned. Is this what true love felt like?

And I wish on a star that somewhere you are Thinking of me too

Christine tried to remember where she had been but the thoughts came back as a blur. Fear rushed inside that perhaps the man – her Angel of Music – wasn't there, that he was not thinking of her as she fondly reminisced about him. Indeed, definite features were still a bit hazy, but the notion of a handsome man remained.

Cause I'm Dreaming of you tonight

Till tomorrow I'll be holding you tight

And there's nowhere in the world I'd rather be

Than here in my room dreaming about you and me

The gentle knocks on the door had become fretful poundings and yet Christine did not care who was there. In fact, she wished who ever it was would leave her be because for the moment she was content right here in her own room.

A faint voice called out her name, but she didn't respond. It was probably Madame Giry who wanted Christine to practice singing once more or that lummox Raoul who wouldn't learn that she was not entirely interested in him at the moment and simply let her be as she was alone. Christine was content with lying on her magnificent bed and dreaming about a man whom she hardly knew but seemed as though they had been distant lovers all the same.

Wonder if you ever see me

And I wonder if you know I'm there

In one swift movement, the Phantom had removed the long black cape he wore, letting it fall carelessly to the damp ground.

He sat at his organ and began to play a few chords of his latest piece Don Juan Triumphant, but it was no use in trying to accomplish anything. Nothing of worth would come out, this he knew for certain, except for maybe a few stray, passionate lines to which he wished Christine could hear him vocalize.

On all occasions where he had successfully seduced his one true love, thoughts always haunted him with questions that Christine didn't even know that he was at her side, offering guidance and protection. And every time he tried to express his utmost desires for her, she would faint, (mostly when she looked upon the manikin that so closely resembled her own beautiful reflection, wearing the hand crafted wedding dress) or when she would go and do something stupid like remove his own precious mask from his distorted face. Why couldn't she just understand that he favored wearing the mask over allowing her to witness such a dreadful sight?

Lying now on his bed with one arm propped behind his head, new thoughts came to mind.

If you looked in my eyes

Would you see what's inside

Would you even care?

Whenever he longingly gazed into her tantalizing eyes, he could see a world of happiness; a place where there was sincere compassion towards others and was not the disfigured man he currently was – in the new world the two sides of his face were equally textured with handsome balance. No one awkwardly stared at him as the supposed Devil's son.

The Phantom often wondered what Christine saw when she looked into his eyes – or if she even took the time to deeply examine what was there. Most times the Phantom simply could not stand to peer at his own dark eyes or his whole face for that matter, so he could not even explain the exact color they were any longer, let alone try to explain what was buried underneath them.

Even if Christine had looked deep within, he thought silently, she probably wouldn't even care anyway.

I just wanna hold you close

But so far all I have are dreams of you

The Phantom closed his eyes and pictured Christine lying gracefully still on top her fairly large bed.

So I wait for the day

And the courage to say how much I love you

Yes I do

In the image the Phantom held inside his mind, where he was a stunning man with no face deformity, he bent down on one knee and finally told Christine the absolute and honest truth: that he was beyond in love with her, that his emotions ran as deep as pure sexual desires that immediately required love, which he had so long ago prepared for her.

Christine would smile then and say, "I love you too" in response, all the while that lummox Raoul would pout in the corner, witnessing his own evident defeat.

But as the image faded, the Phantom soon realized to his utter disappointment that Christine was not "exclusively" his yet.

I'll be dreaming of you tonight

Till tomorrow I'll be holding you tight

In his last conscience moments before complete sleep took over, one last vision came to him, enveloping him back to his past pain and how Christine had changed him into the suitor that would win her hand in marriage, no matter what the costs would become.

And there's nowhere in the world I'd rather be

Than here in my room dreaming about you and me

Some part of Christine knew that the Phantom was asleep at last, having finished her last note of the song she'd hummed softly. She had hoped that perhaps it would now let her sleep, but new thoughts kept returning. She tilted her head to the musical mirror at the end of the room, and glossed over her pale skin, her fair complexion, and her head of brown curls that were playfully still. And yet, no liking of sleep came to her.

It then occurred that maybe the masked man she longed for didn't even know she was there. It was obvious he was infatuated with her sweet and tender soprano voice, but did he notice any of the other important features about her? It was impossible to tell behind the intense façade he allowed to remain, separating her inner desires from his, without remorse. She wasn't even sure if he knew just how much she truly needed his guidance.

"Oh, my angel of music," she cried out, moving to the mirror, where she bent down and prayed for a response. The words rang out in the silence:

(Corazon)

I can't stop dreaming of you

(No puedo dejar de pensar enti)

I can't stop dreaming

(Como to necesito)

I can't stop dreaming of you

(Mi amor, como te extrano)

Christine shook her head, knowing that in this instance she had gone too far. But then in the distance, she heard a familiar male voice sing out to her. It spoke of comfort and kindness, soothing Christine's inner fears.

Late at night when all the world is sleeping

I stay up and think of you

Christine lay peacefully back on her bed; the world around her began to go fuzzy, as it became increasingly hard to keep her eyes open any longer.

And I still can't believe

That you came up to me and said, "I love you"

I love you too!

In a lighted vision, she imagined her Angel of Music by her side; the mask upon his face was gone. He at last bent down, her hand within his, as the words finally emerged. Christine was so happy then, a broad grin crossing her face.

Now I'm dreaming with you tonight

Till tomorrow and for all of my life

And there's nowhere in the world I'd rather be

Than here in my room dreaming of you endlessly

The next words that rang out, being highly anticipated added to the glory of the moment. An endless diamond ring was placed on Christine's pale finger, shimmering in the moonlight. But the image soon faded into nothingness; the smile disappearing as well.

Dreaming of you tonight

Till tomorrow I'll be holding you tight

The Phantom stood behind Christine's mirror, having heard her painful cry. Now that she slept peacefully, he knew he could unlock her door, though he did not want to. Raoul would be overcome with unnecessary worry and at least he wouldn't venture in distress to locate the Phantom and Madame Giry would not be tempted to speak the truth she carried.

For a moment, the Phantom watched over Christine as if he were an angel and she his light. The clock rang midnight and he knew it was time.

And there's nowhere in the world I'd rather be

Than here in my room

I'll be dreaming of you

Endlessly

Christine briefly rustled at the sound of some murmured voices outside her room and the doorknob squeaking briefly.

And I'll be holding you tight

Dreaming . . . with you . . . tonight!

The following morning, after Christine had sat with Raoul and Madame Giry had told her she'd play the pageboy in the next theatre production, she went to her chapel to be alone. It was here the voice returned and all her doubts faded into nothingness, as a single red rose with black ribbon tied around it, fell into the lap of a silent, but so much alive, Christine.