A Change
By KaitlynRose
Author's Note: I have not read the book version of The Phantom of the Opera. I have seen the stage version twice and the 2004 movie now about 75 times. While the movie does give a snippet of information about the Phantom's past, it says virtually nothing about who Raoul and Christine are outside of the Opera House. So in my story Raoul has a father and one surviving aunt, and of course Christine is an orphan with no living family.
I plan to stay true to the movie as much as possible, and I think I have so far. I promise not to kill the Phantom since in 1919 he is obviously still alive and still giving Christine red roses. That doesn't mean that our two lovebirds can't have another run in of some sort with the man in the mask, however.
With that said, I hope everyone enjoys where ever this story made lead. I admit that I'm not sure where I'm going with this yet as I'm making it up as I go. Happy reading.
Disclaimer: Don't own them.
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Mme Giry sat at her dressing table in the hotel. It had been four days since that dreadful night. Meg had gone downstairs to get them a simple lunch of bread and cheese. Her daughter had wanted to eat at the restaurant across the street but they simply couldn't afford to do that. She couldn't believe the Opera Populaire was gone. There were two other Opera Houses in Paris, but neither of them needed a ballet instructor.
She knew this because she had already gone to both of them searching for employment. Andrea and Firmin had been able to give her a little money to tide her over, but that was quickly disappearing. Soon she and her daughter would be homeless unless she could find a position somewhere outside of Paris. That was a scary thought as well. She had always lived in Paris. She couldn't even imagine starting her life all over somewhere else.
She stood when she heard the knock on the door, thinking Meg had forgotten her key. She was shocked to find not Meg but him at the door. He shoved his way into the room quickly to avoid being seen in the hallway.
She calmly closed the door and looked at him. "I did not know if you had survived. Meg told me you were no longer down below."
"As if you cared."
"Of course I care. I have cared for you all these years, raising you, looking after you," she protested.
"Is that why you betrayed me?" he asked.
"I had no choice. You took Christine down there to keep her locked away, never to see the light again. I may have raised you like a son or a brother, but I raised her like a daughter. It was very painful to watch one hurting the other. Besides, I'd say you managed to get your revenge on us all. You burned down our home, our lively hood. You have turned most of us into street beggars."
He paced the room and she watched. She half expected him to kill her. She had suspected that the day would come when he would.
"I acted impulsively," he said. "I did not think the Opera House would burn down the way it did. I simply meant for the chandelier to fall so I could make my escape."
"Well, fall it did, and we all fell with it." She walked back to her small table and had a seat. "Why are you here? I don't think it was to simply have a pleasant conversation."
"No, you are right. I am in need of your service, and perhaps I may be of some help to you and Meg as well."
"I'm listening."
He had a seat on the edge of her bed. "I want to live in the world. I want to change. Christine did not leave me because of my face. She left me…well, let's just say she loved another more. Regardless, I can't stay in the Opera House any more. I have money. I can buy a large manor home and land."
"So go, buy your grand house. What do you need me for?"
"I want you to buy the house. In my name of course, but you and Meg shall live there as well."
"Forgive me, but I do not think it wise to have my daughter living under the same roof as you. You have…how shall I say this…a bit of a temper problem."
"I will stay away from Meg," he practically shouted and he stood up and began to pace the room once more. "All I would need would be several rooms for myself. You and Meg can live in all the rest. I think that is a fair trade for your betrayal."
"And how do I explain the fact that I, a woman of no income, am suddenly living such a grand lifestyle?"
"I don't know. You can say you came in to an inheritance, or that you serve a rich master. I don't care," he stammered.
"Is that what I would be? Your servant? Someone to fetch your breakfast and do the wash?"
"No, I will hire real servants. That is something else I would need for you to do as well. I would need you to find someone loyal, someone who won't tell others about their new master, the monster."
"You are no monster," she sighed. "You are a man. Your face is scared, but you are not the only one in the world with imperfections."
"I don't wish to talk about this. Will you help me? Will you buy my house, hire the servants, and sell my operas? Tell me now."
Mme Giry sat silently for a moment thinking it over. "I want to know the truth. This new life you want, why? Is it a trick? Is it part of some master plan to get Christine back? Or are you simply tired of living a phantom's existence?"
He didn't want to answer that question, at least not completely. "When I destroyed your home I destroyed mine as well. At least I was able to be near people if not actually amongst them. Now I can't even watch from afar. I don't want to be a ghost anymore. I want to live. I want to write my music. I want to sleep in a bed above ground and look at the stars. I want to quiet the rage that burns in my soul." He looked at her and waited to see her response, hoping she would not continue to ask about Christine.
"Fine, I agree to help you as long as you do only as you say. No more accidents."
He nodded his head. "No more accidents."
"Now, just where is it you want to buy a house?" Mme Giry asked.
"I know the perfect place," he replied. He reached into a pocket in his coat and pulled out a small paper that had been clipped from the Paris News. "You will buy this place. I think it will suit our needs very well."
She looked at the paper clipping and then gave him a hard stare. "The minute you break your word Meg and I will be gone. You are clever, but not so clever that I don't know what you are thinking. I told the vicomte to be careful, that he was playing a dangerous game. I now give you the same advice. I hope you heed my advice better than he did."
