I don't own the Phantom of the Opera...this should be sufficent enough from now on I think.
AN: The roses show the switch into Erik's POV. The squiggly lines indicate Michelle's POV.
Chapter 4:
(Michelle's POV)
It had been a week since I had arrived at the Opera Populaire. My ballet lessons were going smoothly and Madame Giry even told me that I would be ready for the next opera with just a bit more practice. I was almost giddy with excitement. As I was making myself ready to leave after practice I had decided that I would watch rehearsals for a little while. My legs ached, but not nearly as much as they had those first couple of days after Madame Giry's lessons.
I sat in the front row, listening to the singers perform. The lead soprano's voice was shrill and I wondered what convinced the managers to keep her on. The rest of the performers were quite good and I found myself enjoying the opera over all. I do not know how long I sat there. I was absorbed in the music and it wasn't until I heard the maestro conclude the session that I came out of my reverie. I looked up and saw Meg talking to her mother. She then turned to me and waved, her gaze quickly followed by Madame Giry who gave me a warm smile. I waved back and a few minutes later I found myself face to face with Meg and a couple of her friends.
"Michelle! It's so good to see you, how are practices running?" Meg asked; her friends talking to each other in the background.
"They are running well, your mother is quite patient with me. For that I am very thankful." I said with a smile. Meg nodded and then turned to her friends.
"I am sorry, I haven't introduced you three yet." She turned back to me. "Michelle, this is Gwen and Charlotte. Gwen, Charlotte, this is Michelle."
I started to stand with a curtsey when the three girls pushed me back into my seat and sat around me. "No need to be so formal with us, Michelle." Said Gwen. I nodded my understanding and the girls continued to talk.
"If La Carlotta does not stop smacking me in that one scene I shall not be held responsible for my actions!" quirked Charlotte.
Gwen laughed and nodded. "I can not see why Monsieur Firmin does not simply hire a new soprano. Surely there will be one that will work without all of the fuss?"
Meg sighed and sat back into her seat. "If only Christine were alive. I am sure that she would have come back despite what all had happened to her here. But I must say that I can not really blame her for never coming back after that night of Don Juan. I can't even imagine how horrified she probably was."
I looked at Meg with curiosity. "Phantom?" I managed to squeak out. The three girls looked at me and nodded; suddenly turning the conversation quite dark.
"Speaking of the Phantom; I still can not believe that fly dropped as such this morning. That gave me quite the fright." Charlotte said looking over the stage.
"It didn't fall by accident, Charlotte." Gwen sighed. "It was him that did it."
I was taken aback. I knew this place had a legend of a ghost behind it, but I did not know that this specter would be the blame for every little thing that happened. "The Phantom dropped a fly this morning? I am sorry, but I can not help but think that it might have been a member of the flies' team just trying to stir everyone into a fright for a moment."
Meg looked at me, her gaze quickly followed by Gwen and Charlotte. All three of their faces, I noticed, had grown pale. "Michelle, do not speak as such about the Phantom. If he overhears you saying that you do not believe in him, then he will get quite angry." said Charlotte, her voice deadly silent.
Gwen nodded in response and continued. "You will always know if it is he, or someone else trying to play a prank on you. He moves with the silence of a cat, and wears the darkest black of clothing to help him hide in the shadows. On his face he wears a mask which conceals his ghastly deformation. Be it his appearance or his ability to move about so quietly that makes him so fearsome, well, the most frightening thing of all is the murders he has committed."
"Come now." I stated. "Surely three young women of your age do not believe in ghost stories anymore. It is but a myth that has caused idle stagehands to take advantage of the gullible."
Meg shook her head and sighed. "Michelle, I am afraid that you are making a horrible mistake by not believing in the Phantom. I just pray that he does not try to prove his existence to you."
I sighed and leaned back in my chair. "Come now, there are no such thing as ghosts!"
(Erik's POV)
I watched amused as Meg and her little friends walked up to Michelle and began talking to her. The stage was now nearly empty with the exception of a few stagehands moving the props about. So the conversation was quite easy to hear. At first their chat was nothing but idle non-sense, but then it turned to the fall of the fly I had caused earlier. I watched in glee, wanting to see this child's reaction to hearing about the Phantom of the Opera. To my utter shock I heard her say that the story was a myth told to the gullible. Me, a myth! We shall see about that Mademoiselle! I thought angrily to myself. Meg was right to tell her that she should pay more heed to the story. For her disbelief had flared my temper somewhat, yet another part of me wanted to laugh and congratulate her on not believing that I was actually a spirit. Now, I decided, it was time for me to make myself known to her.
I quickly made my way to my home, wrote out a letter, and then put it on her bed once I reached her room. All I had to do was wait, and see if she would follow my instructions. I was quite sure that she would.
(Michelle's POV)
I reached my bedroom and closed the door behind me. It had been a long and tiring day, and Meg, Charlotte, and Gwen had forced me to go to dinner. I wasn't all that hungry, my stomach being used to skipping meals. But once I had gotten the hot broth of the night's soup into my stomach I found that it seemed to send warmth through my whole body; almost as if I had been frozen through.
I walked to my vanity and sat down and began running my brush through my hair when I noticed a letter lying atop my pillow through the mirrors reflection. I sat my brush down and stood, walking to my bed. As I picked up the letter I noticed it had no seal. "Odd…" I said to myself as I pulled the letter out and began to read.
Michelle,
Be in the ballet practice room at 9:00 this evening. I will be waiting.
I re-read the letter. It was not signed, but I figured it to be from Madame Giry. I shrugged and sighed looking at the clock. It was 8:55 and I quickly found myself grabbing my ballet slippers and making my way to the practice room.
Once I had arrived I noticed that it was dimly lit. "Madame Giry?" I called out, but I got no answer; then all of the lights went suddenly out and the door behind me closed. I could hear the distinct sound of a lock clicking and ran as fast as I could to the closed door. I twisted the handle and beat on the wood paneling of the door.
"Help! Let me out!" I pulled as hard as I could at the door, but it wouldn't budge. It was then that I heard a spine tingling, yet beautiful laughter echo through the room. I stopped and turned, pressing my back to the door. "Let me out! Please?" I whimpered, pressing myself closer to the very thing that had me trapped.
"Do not fret, my dear Michelle. There is no need for you to leave at the moment." Said the voice.
I turned back around and started beating once more on the door, yelling at the top of my lungs in hope that someone would hear me. The voice merely laughed at me once more.
"No one can hear you, for they are all tucked away in their beds."
I turned back around and looked through the darkness, trying to see whoever it was in the room with me. It was much too dark since there were no windows in the room to let in even the smallest light of the stars.
"Who…who are you?" I stammered as I reached behind me to try and open the door once more. I would tear the handle off if I had to.
I smiled as she came into the room and looked around searching for Madame Giry. I was watching her from behind one of the mirrors on the wall, one which led to my home beneath the opera house. I made the lights go out completely and quietly came out of my hiding place, carefully reaching behind her to close and lock the door. Being accustomed to the darkness as I was, I could make her out clearly.
"Do not fret, my dear Michelle. There is no need for you to leave at the moment." I said softly. I watched as she turned back around and screamed, trying desperately to get out. I rolled my eyes at her and remarked that no one could hear her. She stopped and turned back around, peering into the darkness hoping to see her captor.
"Who…who are you?" she asked, her voice shaking with fright as her hand reached behind her to try and get the door to open.
"The very thing that you have said that you do not believe." was my only reply as I grabbed her wrist behind her. She yelped and tried to jerk her arm away from me, but my hold was much too powerful for her weak attempts.
"Leave me be!" she cried out trying to run away.
"No, I don't believe that I will." I laughed at her struggles, which were weak though not without effort. She was a small thing, that much I could tell by her wrists, which seemed to have no meat on them at all; much too small to be able to tear herself away from me.
"Please! Let me go!" Her voice suddenly grew even louder, causing me to quickly force her against the wall and cover her mouth with my hand. She apparently had a louder voice than I had given her credit for. It was perfect for singing solo on stage.
"No. You will stop and listen to what I have to say." I heard her whimper in pain from the sudden contact with the hard material of the wall, but held my ground. "You will sing for me. Sing and I will not let any harm ever befall you."
Her eyes looked in my direction in terrified curiosity. I loosened my hand on her mouth just a bit, but held her in place on the wall without being so rough. She is never going to trust you if you hurt her. You do not want another incident like Christine. I thought to myself. I watched as she closed her eyes, like a small child believing that if she couldn't see me then I couldn't see her.
"Please sing for me." I requested my voice now gentle but no less commanding. "I can make you great. I know that you have the passion, for I have heard you sing before. With my help you can have the most revered voice in all of France, if not the world."
This was my chance to create something beautiful once again. Though the world will never love me, they will love my creations. My work though the voice of another and my compositions. Dare I hope that it would be Michelle to help me realize this dream? Christine was just a glimpse of that power I held over the voice of a human being. She became an obsession over me, one of which I will not allow to ever happen again. Michelle was my chance to see that power, my work, in full course. If I was lucky I would gain a friend, someone that will trust me and love me for who I am. If the fates decided to be even kinder, perhaps I would gain more than friendship from this woman. I would not put any hope towards the latter, for I am not one that likes to be disappointed.
But, even having this young woman as a friend would be a step forward in living my life without being in complete exile. But what if she falls in love and marries. You will lose her as you had lost Christine. I couldn't help but think this thought as I stared at her. No. I thought to myself. That is something that I will worry about if that time ever comes. I watched as she closed her eyes again as if deep in thought. But, it's inevitable that it would come. She is not overly attractive, but yet she holds a quality that you know all too well men would like. You shall have to be careful if you do not want to lose her.
"What would you like me to sing?" she asked meekly. I smiled inwardly and backed away. I had just bought myself a new student; and I would be damned if I would allow myself to make the same mistakes with her that I had with my former pupil. If I fall then so will she.
