Chapter Five – Erik, the Angel of Music
The Destler Mansion – Early April 2005
It is early evening and rehearsal has just ended. They had been doing a vocal run-through of the first act that day, and Christine's voice is already worn out. She walks down the streets of Paris and finds the address of the Destlers. Full of anticipation, she knocks timidly on the large front door.
A maid answers it. Of course. "Bonsoir, Madame. I'm here to see Erik…"
"Mademoiselle Landry! We've been expecting you!" She ushers her into the large foyer. "He'll only be a minute. You can wait here if you'd like," she says, showing Christine to a small lounge. Christine sits down, wondering what Erik could possibly be doing besides reading or brooding or playing piano, which he could do in front of her.
Five or ten minutes pass before the maid returns. "Mademoiselle, Monsieur Erik will see you now." The maid shows Christine down a hallway and a flight of stairs, landing her in the elegant basement. "His room is in the back," she says, pointing.
"Thank you." Christine makes a few timid steps forward, then hastens to the door. She knocks. No answer. She knocks again. Still no response. Fed up, Christine pushes on the door and it opens, giving herself a full view of Erik shirtless. Christine bites her lip as he turns around, having been busy with something on his desk. "I'm sorry! I could wait outside for a minute…"
"Don't bother," he replies coolly, coming over to the door. The muscles of his chest move as he walks, and Christine is thoroughly surprised that he is interested in keeping himself so toned and, honestly, handsome. He closes the door and shows her to a seat near the desk he was working at. "I'll only be a moment," he says to her, disappearing into a large closet.
Christine looks around at the posters on Erik's walls. There is, on one wall, a life-size poster of British actor Michael Crawford, as well as posters from the shows and movies he'd been in. On another, there is a poster of a second actor, Scottish Gerard Butler, along with an autographed poster from his film Dear Frankie. On the back wall, however, there is a large canvas emblazoned with a very realistic Phantom mask. "Admiring my art, are we?"
She whirls around and sees Erik leaning on the doorframe of his closet. "Well, no, I…"
"Allow me to explain," he says, heading towards her. "Crawford; wonderful voice that is basically the same as my own. And he's an amazing actor. Butler; again, similar voice to mine and a very successful and talented actor. And who wouldn't put an autographed poster on their wall?" he asks to nobody in particular, pointing to the Dear Frankie poster. "The mask I painted in my senior year in secondary school for a final grade."
"It's very well done," Christine compliments. Erik sits down on the edge of the desk and straightens his button-down black shirt. The sleeves are t-shirt length, showing off his muscled arms. Don't think that way, Christine. It's Erik.
"Thank you, Mademoiselle," he replies. "Now, before we begin I have a few, um, guidelines to lay down. First, there will be no bickering. End of story. Rule number two- if the need to bicker arises, it must involve music or Phantom only, no ifs, ands, or buts about it. Rule number three- the purpose of these sessions is to improve your vocal quality for the show. Therefore we will only work on that music and will only discuss topics pertaining to it. Rule number four- the teacher is always right. Lastly, rule number five- no arguing over a decision I make. If you disagree, refer to rule four." Christine is strongly tempted to slap him. How dare he set down such self-centered rules? "Now, Mademoiselle, we shall begin."
Erik makes his way to a grand piano in the corner of the room, its finish glossy and black. Christine follows timidly, not quite sure what to make of her new vocal coach. "What exactly are you going to help me do, Monsieur?"
"Oh, yes," he says, turning back to her from his position on the piano bench, "rule number six- always call the teacher by his first name unless told to do otherwise." A boyish grin crosses his face, and Christine is surprised to see it. She truly has yet to see him in a real smile.
"Okay, Erik," she says, emphasizing his name. "Why am I here?"
"You are here, Mademoiselle…" he says, turning around to face the piano again, but Christine cuts him off.
"It's Christine." Erik coughs rather loudly, and it sounds like he is saying something like "Rule Four" amidst the hacking. "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine, Mademoiselle, thank you. Now, back to what I was saying." Erik clears his throat. "You must learn to control your vocals, to support your high notes and your low notes equally, to learn techniques that will enhance your voice. Right now, your voice is beautiful, more so than many I've heard, but it is lacking in the methods that will keep it afloat, without really trying very hard. Do you think you can do this to the best of your ability, Christine?"
Christine whispers a meek, "Yes."
"Good. Now, I'll just make sure the piano's in tune. I haven't played it in a few weeks now." He begins to play some chords on the piano, his fingers moving like liquid across the keys.
"Erik?"
"Yes, Christine?"
"Why did you turn down the role of the Phantom?" Erik stops playing almost instantaneously, whirling around to have a look at her.
"I despise performing, Mademoiselle, almost as much as I despise being interrupted while I am working," he says angrily, turning back to the piano.
"Erik, if you don't mind my saying so, your voice is amazing. I've thought so since I met you." He ignores her, completely and totally ignores her. How rude. Erik hums the tune to The Music of the Night as he tunes the piano to perfection.
"There. We're all set to start. Come closer, Christine." She does. Christine takes a few steps forward to stand right beside the piano bench. "Turn so I may see you, Christine." She moves a little so she's at a diagonal to him, able to see his face.
"Don't you need sheet music?"
"No," Erik says, standing up. He goes around to the back of the bench and lifts up the seat. "But you do." After fishing around inside of it, he pulls out a folder thick with sheets of paper, handing it to Christine. Erik sits back down and puts his fingers on the keys. "Now, I took the liberty of deciding what we'd go over first." Not a second goes by before he pounds his fingers on the keys, playing the powerful first chords of the opera. Erik's fingers fly over the keys, sending the first arpeggios of The Phantom of the Opera into the air. Over the noise, he says to his student, "I'll sing the Phantom for you."
"If you are so inclined," Christine replies and prepares to sing. "In sleep he sang to me! In dreams he came, that voice which calls to me and speaks my name. And do I dream again, for now I find the Phantom of the Opera is there inside my mind?" She stops singing as Erik pulls his fingers from the white and black of the piano keys.
"That was lovely, Christine, but this song is not lovely. It's supposed to be a little more rugged, a little less smooth. You know musical terms?" Christine moves her head a little in agreement. "Well, make some bits a little more staccato. Use your better judgment." Christine nods and sings her part again. She assumes he'll end the piece a second time to critique her, but her ears are greeted with the glorious sound of Erik's voice as he sings.
"Sing once again with me our strange duet! My power over you grows stronger yet! And though you turn from me to glance behind the Phantom of the Opera is there inside your mind." The next thirty minutes pass uneventfully, but for Erik's insistence that he is always right. By the time they reach Christine's high note at the end of the song (a high E to be exact), Erik is beginning to look happy.
"That'll be all for today, Christine." Erik stands up from the piano. "I'll walk you to the door." He leads Christine out of his room and up the basement stairs to the main level. Christine sees André at the dining room table, sipping a cup of tea.
"Christine! I knew you were here; we heard you from up here." He glares at his son and Christine can only guess it's because he heard his voice too. "I'll see you at rehearsal tomorrow."
"Of course, Monsieur." Erik shows Christine to the door, which he opens. "Thank you, Erik," she says to her coach as she steps out onto the front walkway, but Erik has already closed the door behind her.
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