Everything and Nothing

Notes- Thank you to Baffled Seraph, JediofImladris, Reyana Draconis, and MoonDancerCat. You all made my day with your reviews. Oh, and I'm going for Erik being in his late twenties/early thirties here, so semi-movie ages. I agree that Erik doesn't have enough sweet moments. Thus, the prequel here. Enjoy the next chapter, and feel free to review again!

Chapter Three: A Harmless Plot

It took a surprisingly long time for me to find Mademoiselle Daae alone. I am by nature an impatient man, so I had originally planned simply to knock over a chair or rattle some chains or some other nonsense within the day. After all, this was a child's fantasies I was humoring- if I got too creative with my plans, then I would surely scare the poor girl out of her wits. And I had no wish to do that; frightening children was certainly not on my to-do list.

But life (or my poor imitation of leading one) got in the way as soon as I left the little chorus girls to their rehearsals. I discovered that some idiot had stolen my gift to Madame Giry, and had to find the fellow and teach him to respect other people's things. As he wasn't a child, I was free to be as creative as I wished. I almost felt a twinge of pity for the poor man when he crawled home. But at least Madame Giry received her gift, so all was well.

Then I discovered that our lovely leading soprano, Madame Blanche, was bothering the stagehands. The men were attempting to clear up some of the older props and the like from the last few operas, and she had inexplicably appeared to get in the way as much as possible. It took three falling objects to scare her away, and by then I'd managed to pull a muscle in my arm from being careless in making sure I wasn't seen.

I spent a few days making certain my arm was well enough to handle my usual daily excursions, and went out to find out that Madame Blanche, thoroughly miffed at the falling objects, had decided to storm out of the Opera Populaire. It didn't create as big a problem as it would have during the actual season, but it did worry the managers, and I had to quickly write a letter to recommend a few singers before they made a serious blunder. What is it with managers and horrible singers? They go together so well, it seems…

Anyhow, then Madame Blanche returned and, upon spotting the temporary diva (one of my… recommendations, of course), immediately came back to work.

So it was about a week after my initial viewing of Mademoiselle Daae that I finally had the chance to see her again.

It was late afternoon when I found her; she and the other young women had just left their evening practice. Many of them looked exhausted, but little Giry, as always, was chattering endlessly.

Little Daae was trudging along, getting farther and farther behind. After a few moments, she gave up the pretense of following her fellow students and poked Meg in the arm.

"Ah! What!" Meg asked, rounding on her friend with an annoyed frown.

"I'm going," Mademoiselle Daae responded softly, eyes cast down.

Immediately, Meg's peeved expression softened. "All right. Come back before dinner this time, though. I'm not saving you dessert this time!"

Interesting. So this had been happening before?

I watched as Mademoiselle Daae nodded once, then turned and headed in the opposite direction. Little Giry did not follow her.

My chance at last, I thought, and began to follow.

I couldn't help but notice that the child quickened her pace as soon as she was alone in the corridors. In fact, she was on the verge of running towards her destination, her eyes lighting up as a strange expression- hope? – crossed her face. Once, she passed by one of the older stagehands, but she didn't slow her pace. This surprised me, since as one of Madame Giry's wards she was bound to have been taught proper etiquette towards her elders.

It didn't take long for me to realize that she was headed towards the little chapel.

The chapel hadn't been there to begin with, either. The plans had never mentioned anything about putting something holy into my theatre. But, about two years after the Opera Populaire had been built, Madame Blanche had appeared with her husband-to-be- a mousy little man with a lot of money- and demanded to be married in my opera house. While I had quietly gagged in the shadows, she had announced that she thought the idea to be very romantic. Her husband had meekly concurred and ordered the most extravagant wedding possible- which wasn't hard, considering this was an opera house they were celebrating in.

Ever since, this tiny room had been left for those who worked here – just in case they couldn't get to church on time.

I slipped into a decent hiding space- behind a large painted glass window that had a few candles illuminating it from behind- just as Mademoiselle Daae entered the room. Her eyes were still wide and bright- the most cheerful expression I'd seen on her face yet.

She paused just after entering, examining the room as though she'd never been here before. Then, she moved towards a small altar where a few candlesticks lay, and glanced back behind herself.

After a moment, she slowly pulled out a candle that was similar to the others in size and shape, but was an obviously different color.

"Maybe he'll like this one," she said to the room, and set the small candle up on one of the empty stands.

I raised an eyebrow. Just what on earth…?

Carefully, she lit the candle she'd brought in, and a waft of… something resembling perfume… drifted towards my hiding place.

I covered the horrid hole that served as my nose, almost gagging on the scent. It was too strong to be pleasant, especially in such a small room! And thanks to said strength of the… fragrance.. I couldn't even place it!

As I attempted to keep my composure, little Daae knelt on both knees before the little altar and brought her hands up for prayer, her head bowed.

For a moment, all was completely still.

Now's my chance, I decided. After all, I had no interest in religion, and this wasn't a true church in any case. There would be no harm in blowing out a few of the candles- all but hers, I thought irrationally. It would be cruel to mess with her candle, after the trouble she'd apparently taken to sneak it in here. Though how she'd hidden it in her clothing during her daily practice was beyond me.

I moved towards one of the nearest candles.

Just as I started to act out my plan, she lifted her head, eyes closed, and began to sing a common children's lullaby.

I stilled.

I had heard hundreds of people sing in my lifetime. Most of them were horrid. Some of them did not realize they were horrible- indeed, they thought they were incredible!- and sought to become the next diva. Others were merely competent, good enough to sing in a chorus. Much fewer were still in the choirs of the world, but were allowed a solo or two to show off their fine voice- the only reason they can't be the lead being that they can't hit the high notes. And then, one in a million, there was someone who had perfect pitch, who could hit the high notes, who could tug at a person's heartstrings after only the first measure had been sung.

Little Daae was that one in a million.

Her voice was undeveloped, was slightly nasal as many children's voices are, and she sometimes sang the wrong notes. But her tone was clear, and the wrong notes were hit quite deliberately- like she believed they were the correct ones.

And, wonder of wonders, her face when she sang…!

How open that little face was! How hopeful her expression, how pure and light her enjoyment of singing was… Even if I hadn't been able to hear her, my heart would have felt like it would burst.

My heart… I hadn't realized it was still working properly.

It was pounding now, as the simple little lullaby finished and she continued to stare upwards, hopeful and determined…

Silence rang through this entire wing of the Opera Populaire.

Slowly, the light in her eyes dimmed. Her shoulders slumped, and her head began to bow. Her hands, clasped so tightly together as she sang, fell into her lap.

"Papa said you would come if I worked hard enough, after he went to heaven," she murmured into the small room. "Papa said that you would inspire me, and help me become the best singer ever. I"ve been working so hard. I've tried so much… I bought you a candle!"

Normally, I would have laughed at such a statement. But she said it so earnestly… I listened on.

"And yet… you don't come. Oh Angel of Music, if I'm not good enough, why don't you just say so? Then I won't bother you ever again. Maybe Papa was just being nice. But maybe.. maybe I'm doing all right! Angel.. please, talk to me?"

The room remained silent, as all of my decisions to play the mischievous ghost disappeared from my mind. A new idea was already forming in their stead.

An Angel of Music! So that was what her father had promised her; that an Angel would descend from the heavens to teach her how to sing properly!

I considered the idea, let it grow within my mind. My only beauty was my voice, I knew; I had the power to make anyone do what I wished them to, make them feel as I decided they should. This little child just wanted a visit from the Angel. Something to make her day. Something to give her hope, because her Papa was obviously gone now by how she spoke of him. I hadn't heard anything about a mother, but considering that Madame Giry had taken her in as her ward, well…

All alone in the world, I thought, saddened by such a thing. And all you want is a little hope…

Bah, a ghost would just frighten her away. By the way she was acting, a ghost's appearance would probably convince her to give up on singing. And that would be a greater crime than anything I had done in the past- this girl could easily become the next diva in my theatre. Could easily have the world bow at her feet, have all the pleasures she could dream of. All she needed was something to keep her going.

Maybe even… someone to teach her- no! This is a one-time circumstance, I told myself sharply. I am not trusting anyone with my heart again. I remember too well what happened to me before. No, I will make a short appearance as her Angel. Then I will go on with my life. This will be my way of thanking her for that amusing afternoon encounter with Madame Blanche.

During my inner conflict, the little girl had started to let her lower lip quiver, and her eyes started to tear up. Alarmed, I moved to take action before she decided to start screaming again.

Gently, I began to blow out candles near her as I had planned before- all but hers- and began to hum.

The lip quivering stopped.

There were only five other candles lit within the room other than hers, and I had only three to go. Two to go.

Her eyes widened.

One to go.

"W-w-what…" she stammered, as the last of the normal candles went out.

I let her sit in silence for a moment, staring at her candle. Then, I began to sing to her, softly, gradually allowing my voice to grow in volume. I cast my voice about, until it settled on and appeared to be coming from her little candle.

"Child, I have come to you

Prepared, ready to take you

Under my wing…"

"Oh, my God," she breathed, staring at the candle.

"The time has come,

At last for you

To learn to sing…"

"Is it the Angel?"

"Child, your father came to me,

And I am here to show you how

Things ought to be…"

"It's the Angel of Music!"

"I, I am your Angel

And I am here

It's your turn now,

Dearest girl,

Time to work

At what you yearn for…"

"Angel!" she gasped. "You're here! You're here!" She jumped up to her feet and went as close to the candle as she could without burning herself. "Oh, you do exist! You do exist!"

Softly, changing the tune, I replied:

"I am your Angel of Music…

And you are my pupil as of now..

I am your Angel of Music…

Come to your strange Angel, child…"

"Christine! Christine!"

I fell silent. So that's her name, I thought, even as I fought to control my irritation.

"Angel?" she whispered. "Where'd you go? Angel?"

"Christine!"

She turned, and I looked up to see Madame Giry entering the room. Wonderful, an interruption…

The box-keeper took a good look about the room, noting the lone candle burning brightly on the altar. "Christine, you should not blow out other people's candles," she said reprovingly. "They light them the same reason you do."

"But, Madame, I-"

I moved my voice to her left ear, and whispered, "Secret… secret…"

The little girl swallowed. Then she nodded once. "Apologies, Madame."

"Very well. You are done for today?"

Little Daae nodded.

"Good. Then come with me, Mademoiselle. Or do you wish for Meg to eat your dinner as well?"

The young lady cast one look back at her candle before saying, "No, Madame." Then, obediently, she followed the older woman out of the room. She didn't look back again, but I could tell that something had changed about her already.

Her shoulders were straight. Her eyes had glowed when she had stared at the candle. Her voice was louder than before, slightly more confident.

Yes, I had made her day for her. And I had repaid her for the service she had (unwittingly) done for me a week ago.

But as I made my way down towards my sanctuary, my job done for the day, I couldn't help but wonder why I kept making plans to visit her in the dorms while she slept tonight…