Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to Phantom of the Opera. Sue me and all you'll get it some pocket lint and a very strange kitty.
Fate does iron wedges drive
And always crowds itself betwixt... Andrew Marvell
Elizabeth woke with the golden dawn that filtered through her ivy-covered window. She looked at the clock beside her bed. 6:06 am. Groaning, she burrowed deeper into the softness of her goose down comforter. Elizabeth was just dozing off as she heard the hiss of the showers in the men's bathroom next to her room turn on. With a sigh, Elizabeth conceded defeat. Too groggy to untangle herself from the sheets, she rolled out of bed and landed with a thump on the carpeted floor. She rose and stretched as she went through the schedule for the day in her mind.
It was the last day of classes and Elizabeth was in a rejoiceful mood. She survived her first semester at this small state school in Maine. Nine months after leaving Bryn Mawr, Elizabeth gave up on her fight to get readmitted. She applied for a transfer to Maine State. At that point, she didn't care about prestige or ambience. Elizabeth wanted to get college over with. One year after leaving Bryn Mawr, she started at her new school.
From the very beginning, Murphy's Law reigned. Everything that could go wrong did. The camaraderie that connected the students at Bryn Mawr was nowhere to be seen on this campus. The students were cliquish and crude. No one looked twice at the frowning, sad-eyed girl with the slight Midwestern accent. When once Elizabeth had been well-liked and happy, she now hid in the shadows. She mostly stayed in her room reading, venturing out only for classes and to eat alone in the dining halls. Her only solace was that she was learning again. Knowledge was knowledge no matter the location or the teacher. Elizabeth's mind flourished. Her pitiful lack of a social life left plenty of time for studying and she knew her semester GPA would be just short of a 4.0.
Her last class of the semester was her Honors seminar. Elizabeth's eyes kept wandering to the clock above the door as the rest of the class discussed scientific theory during the time of Copernicus.
A voice calling her name brought her out of her anxious reverie."Miss Elizabeth, what are your thoughts on this topic?"
Blushing furiously, Elizabeth grasped for a suitable answer.One of her more strange classmates whispered loudly, "Say potato." The class erupted in laughter. The professor chuckled and moved the discussion on to a different topic. Elizabeth sighed with relief. She was never short of opinions on most subjects but she hated to contribute to class discussions. This class is going slower than my dead granny in a wheelchair she thought. Once again, her mind strayed, this time onto a more pleasant subject. Philip Calhoun. He wasn't a boyfriend, friend, or even an acquaintance. No, Elizabeth was bordering on stalkerific and obsessing about a complete stranger. Or rather, his music.
Philip Calhoun was one of the most famous composers in America. His music couldn't exactly be called modern. To limit it by associating it with such strict, set terms was to deny what the music itself was. It wasn't a regurgitated mess to the ears like most modern music that has been churned out nor was it inhibited by the structure set by the compositions of previous centuries. Philip Calhoun's music was boundless. It had the power to make the soul cry. There was no joy in Philip's music. There was only intense sadness and longing, as if it came straight from the thoughts of a condemned man staring through the bars at his last sunrise. To those who attended his concerts for the music, not merely to be seen, it was an event one had to prepare oneself for in advance. By the end of the concert, the audience members were drained, wrung out yet satisfied much like an artist upon completion of a project.
Elizabeth had always held a special love for music. From Gounod's Faust to jazz piano to Ken Hill's Phantom of the Opera, her interest was limitless. So long as the music moved something within her, she listened and loved. Her high school choir teacher, recognizing Elizabeth's fascination, introduced her to the works of Philip Calhoun. It was love at first chord. The music made her feel things that her 16 year old mind could not understand. Sometimes it was dark and moody, like it could be the soundtrack to an Algernon Blackwood story. Other times his music was longing and far-reaching, grasping at something forever beyond reach. His music brought Elizabeth's mind to a dark place from which she never wanted to surface.
And now he was in Maine. He moved to a town a few miles from where Elizabeth's sister lived. The bigwigs of Maine were welcoming their new celebrity by putting together a performance of his music and Mr. Calhoun was to be the guest of honor. Marianne managed the impossible feat of procuring tickets for the event. In little more than a week, Elizabeth would be sitting in the same concert hall as...
An unwelcome voice once more interrupted Elizabeth's thoughts."All right, class is dismissed. Enjoy the summer. Don't forget to do some reading over the break. I trust that won't be a problem for you, Miss Peterson?" said the professor.
Elizabeth grimaced at her backpack crammed full with books. No, it would not be a problem, although she'd have to be sneaky about it. Most of Elizabeth's time would be taken up working over the summer. Elizabeth smirked. Ah, the woes of a poor college student.
Elizabeth paused her exertions to wipe the sweat from her brow. Sighing, she stared at the mess in the back of her car. She hated the bother of moving, but she was eager to leave the college behind. Deciding to take a much needed break, Elizabeth sat down on the curb. Here and there were groups of students laughing, talking animatedly to each other, saying their goodbyes for the summer. Elizabeth had taken leave of only one acquaintance-could she really call her a friend?-and that had been casual enough. Next semester will be different she thought. It was to be. I can't survive this solitude again. Not that Elizabeth was completely friendless, the few friends she had just weren't fellow college students.
A slight breeze ruffled the hair around her face. Suddenly chilled, she shivered. Elizabeth had never put much stock in intuition, but now she had the strongest feeling that the coming months would change the course of her life. Usually she had her life planned out to the tiniest detail, like a long, straight road heading steadfastly into the distance. Now it felt as if a fog was settling over her future and she must push forward sightlessly. Whatever it was, she was content enough to wait. Right now, she had work to do. Liz stood and resumed maneuvering the objects in her back seat. Once done, Liz left campus, looking back only once to see the clock tower recede into the distance.
Author's notes: I know it's a bit boring now, but hang in there. This chapter is mainly for laying everything down. The next chapter will be more exciting.