Disclaimer: I do not own the Phantom of the Opera

Theatrical Politics

The next day the Opera Populaire was dominated by one topic of conversation: Christine Daae was missing.

I had it from one of the seamstresses who wanted to know if it was true. She was shocked that I had not heard anything of it.

"I would have thought you would know more than most! You are closer to the corps de ballet than any of us," she cried referring to the costume department.

I listened with only half my attention as she launched into the tale that was being told throughout the opera: that Christine had been abducted and spirited away, although her dressing room was found locked up tight. All I could think about was the young man I had seen enter her room. I wondered if she had run away with her lover. That would have been a very foolish thing to do if she cared anything for her career!

As soon as I could extract myself from the gossiping seamstress I went in search of Mme. Giry. I felt sure she would know what had happened. The ballet mistress was not in her room, however. I made my way up towards the dormitories and the rehearsal room to look for her. I met Meg coming down.

"Meg! What is all this I'm hearing? Is Christine really gone?"

Meg looked somewhat haggard. Poor girl, she must have been receiving inquiries all morning. She was known to be Christine's best friend.

"I'm afraid it is true, but I really do not know anything more about it."

"I'm so sorry, Meg. I don't mean to pester you with questions about a painful topic! If there is anything I can do, just let me know."

Meg gave a thin smile, but she seemed to read the sincerity in my voice for she glanced around to make sure we were alone in the corridor.

"Do not be overanxious, Lucette. My mother will not say what is going on, but she seems to know where Christine is. She told me not to worry, but not to say anything about it either." The girl dropped her voice to a whisper and continued: "I am only telling you because you know about the real ghost, not the one of the tales, but the one who really exists. Mama thinks Christine is with him."

I shocked that the Giry ladies could be comforted by the knowledge the ghost had her.

"Meg," I said, "you cannot be serious?"

She simply looked at me. Her sincerity could not be doubted.

"Surly we should raise the alarm then?"

"No! You must not say anything about this! I should not have told you, but I thought you would understand."

Meg looked really panicked as she said this. So I assured her that, if both she and her mother were convinced Christine would come to no harm, I would not betray their secret.

Meg smiled her thanks, and we went our different ways.

I headed directly to the piano room. I was determined to hear the truth. I had to know if this Phantom had turned from extortion to kidnapping. I thought again about that young man who went into Christine's dressing room. I wondered if he could be the Phantom. I dismissed the thought almost as soon as it occurred to me. Surely one of the patrons (for that is what I gathered he was) would not be extorting money from the establishment he patronized! "Besides," I thought, "the face of that young man did not match the voice." True the young man had a beautiful face, but it was a foppish sort of beauty and nothing else. The voice of the Phantom, besides being beautiful, also held power, conviction, and a kind of pain that did not destroy the beauty of the voice, but made one want to weep. I was sure these vocal qualities could be seen in the Phantom's face. Yet none of these more complex emotions could be seen in the face of that young man.

I arrived at the end of the narrow corridor and entered the room. I inquired if anyone was present. I received no reply. I thought about going, but the sight of the piano sparked a creative fire within me. I looked at my watch. I still had two hours before I had to be at warm ups. I fetched my staff lined paper and a lamp from my room, and settled down at the piano.

I was continuing with the work I had begun my first night here. It was an opera, I knew that, but I was not sure of any of the other particulars yet.

I passed the first hour in the delightful oblivion that comes with being consumed by music. I then paused as the events of the day intruded in on my realm of consciousness. I gazed, unseeingly, at the keys while I wondered about poor Christine. Was she really with the Phantom? I wish I could say that the thought engendered only worry, but it did not. The primary emotion it inspired was envy. If she was with him she was conversing face to face with that god-like voice.

"Why did you stop?"

My head shot up at the voice. Had I really heard it, or was I just thinking so much about it that I imagined it?

"Hello?" I asked tentatively.

"Why did you stop?" He was here! "Your mind is not even on your music any more."

"Indeed it isn't. I was worrying about Christine. You don't happen to know what became of her, do you?" I asked this in a belligerent way, as though daring him to say he was innocent.

"She is resting in the ballet dormitory, I believe."

This took me off guard.

"She is?"

"She was a half hour ago according to Mme. Giry." He was speaking from the center of the room today.

"Is she alright?"

"I doubt it."

"What did you do to her?" I jumped from the bench as I said this, prepared to run to Christine's aid should she need it.

"I did nothing to her, and you should learn to be less offensive in your manner of asking questions!"

The beauty of the voice was replaced by a hissing menace. I was surprised that, rather than be frightened, I felt rather sorry for the man.

"I did not mean to offend, exactly, but I understood she was with you, and if something is amiss with her now, it would seem..." I did not finish my sentence. I wanted to know what was wrong with Christine, but I also wanted to know what was wrong with the Phantom. He sounded miserable.

"Please, what's wrong?" I was not sure if I was asking after him or Christine.

"Mlle Daae will be perfectly all right, she simply had a rude awakening to the existence of contrasts in this world. You need not worry about her. Now play!"

I raised my eyebrows.

"I believe it was you who just told me not to be offensive."

There was no answer. He seemed different from the bantering fellow I had spoken with the other night.

"I will play if you like, but are you alright?" My tone had softened considerably.

There was no answer.

"I know you are still behind that wall. Don't sulk!" I don't know what possessed me say that, but it was out of my mouth before I could think.

It clearly disconcerted M. Le Fantôm for he actually stuttered when he next spoke.

"How…how d-did you…I do not sulk!"

I could not help but laugh. The great and mighty Opera Ghost had just responded to a reprimand like a five year old child simply because some one had called his bluff. My laughing upset him even more.

"If you are through playing, I will bid you good bye!" He delivered this little speech with more dignity than I had yet heard him use, and it only made me laugh harder.

"No please," I said with laughter still thick in my voice, "I will play more for you in a moment if you really want me to, but you sounded so miserable. I honestly want to know if you will be alright."

"I will not stay to be laughed at, no one laughs at the Phantom!"

I realized that my laughter had really bothered him.

"I'm sorry; it's just that your response seemed so out of character for you that I could not help it."

"You are forgiven then."

He gave his forgiveness with the stateliness of an emperor granting a pardon. I decided to receive it as such.

"Thank you," I said, "Now, are you alright?"

"I am in perfect health, thank you. I am just appalled at how little Mme. Giry is to be trusted. I take it that it was she who informed you that Mlle. Daae was with me?"

I had to be careful how I answered this question as I did not wish to cause trouble for either Giry.

"No actually. Meg told me in order to set my mind at ease, but of course in the strictest confidence, and even then only because I was already somewhat familiar with you."

"A very politic reply, Mlle. Sauvon."

"Yet a true one. Also, I was not inquiring after your health, I was asking about your spirits, they sound quite depressed."

The Phantom heaved a sigh.

"So they are, and you are very nosey!"

"I am concerned."

"Why?"

Why was I concerned? Could I just come out and say that I was completely fascinated by him? I would prefer to keep some dignity.

"Well, you have gone through the trouble of setting me up with this exquisite instrument. Moreover, I had hoped I could consider you a friend and vice versa."

"Oh."

I thought this was all the reply I was to have, and so turned back to face the piano. Before I could put my fingers to the keys, however, he continued.

"I told you Christine was shocked by contrasts. Her curiosity to uncover those contrasts has ruined us both forever."

"I doubt her curiosity could have done that!" He did not reply, so I continued, "I take it she discovered that her angel was a man?"

"If only it were that!" The Phantom sounded hurt and bitter. "She discovered her angel was a monster!"

"You are not a monster!"

"You know nothing about it! Do not profess an opinion on the subject!"

"Well maybe if you stopped the threatening notes, turned over a new leaf…"

He cut me off with a sharp, mirthless laugh. "I say again you know nothing of what you speak. Therefore be silent!"

I was silent, but only for a moment.

"What is your name?"

"I told you: you may choose whatever form you like."

"I mean your real name. I feel ridiculous having nothing to call you but Phantom."

"Then you may call me the Opera Ghost."

I sighed, "Have it your way then!"

I turned back to the keys, but he stopped me by saying: "You are not paying attention to the time; you will be late if you get lost in your music again."

I looked at the watch pinned to my blouse, and immediately rose.

"Gracious! Thank you for reminding me!" I walked to the door, but turned back before leaving. "And Monsieur?"

"Yes?"

"Cheer up. Things always work out in the end, sometimes just not the way we originally hoped they would."

I left the room before he could reply.

As I walked up to the rehearsal room, I replayed our conversation in my mind. It was clear this Phantom had many emotional problems: he could not bear to be laughed at even in a friendly manner, he thought of himself as a monster, and (I could not deny it although I wanted to) he seemed to be in love with Christine Daae who, I gathered from his foul mood, did not return his affection.

Add to all this the fact that he is a criminal, and the product is one troubled individual. I wondered at myself for liking him so much. I liked him to the point where, I had to be honest with myself, I was somewhat envious of his regard for Christine. I could still be a friend to him, however, and this I was determined to be. I would just have to be careful. It seemed inevitable that one day he would be caught, and when that day came I did not want to be involved in the repercussions. That is not all I need to be careful of, my heart told me. And I knew that, if I did not check this growing fascination, I would end up with a bruised heart.

vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv

Christine was not at warm ups, but that was hardly surprising. I assumed she would be repeating her triumph of the night before. I had not been in the rehearsal room above five minutes, however, when I heard Carlotta had returned. It seemed that, not only would she be playing Elissa tonight, but in the upcoming production of Il Muto she would play the countess. I asked what role was assigned to Christine, and was astounded to hear she had been cast as the pageboy: the silent role.

The decision disturbed Christine's friends, but it seemed that those not close to the girl were unmoved by the injustice of it all. Carlotta had many wealthy supporters, she had been driven away, and now she was returned. It seemed that people took it as a matter of course that Carlotta would be allowed to return to her former glory and Christine to her former obscurity.

It was when I was backstage during the performance that I learned the real reason Christine was not a popular choice for star. It seemed that the realistic half of the opera believed the Vicomte de Chagny (the young man I had seen go into Christine's room) was trying to interfere on his mistress's behalf; as artists, they resented this. The other, more superstitious half believed that the Phantom of the Opera was trying to advance the career of his mistress (i.e. Christine), and they were divided over whether it was more dangerous to deny the Opera Ghost his request or to have the Opera Ghost's mistress in the production. Both options seemed to insure disaster. In any case, Christine was not particularly popular.

I marveled at the stupidity of it all. Had anyone been listening to her last night? I know they had; I had heard them marvel at her talent. Why today were they all against her? Why were they willing to believe the only reason for her success was that she was the mistress of some man! I felt a sudden sympathy for the girl. Her current plight was not so very different from my own.

I glanced at Meg and Madame Giry. Well, at least Christine had some true friends; and it seemed that there would be many others willing to declare themselves in Christine's camp if the managers would. Sadly, the undeniable slight they had given Christine had clearly stated their belief that there was something wrong with Mlle. Daae, and the rest of the company would follow their lead.

I fell to wondering why the managers would slight Christine so. They could have been the greats who discovered her, but they chose Carlotta. It made no sense to me, so I decided there must be more to it than met the eye.

During the course of the evening's performance, Mme. Giry came and stood by me. Carlotta had just left the stage after "Think of Me," and I think the ballet mistress had seen me roll my eyes.

"Christine should have had the role tonight as well," I whispered.

Mme. Giry simply nodded.

"Is she alright?"

"Yes," the older woman sighed, "she was actually prepared to come and dance in the chorus tonight, but I told her to rest. She really is a good girl. I wish…"

Mme. Giry stopped, but I was curious to hear what she was going to say. "You wish?" I prompted.

"It seems to me that Christine has some friends who mean to help her, but they would do better to leave the situation alone."

I felt I knew who these "friends" were.

"Christine is very talented," I said feigning innocence, "after her performance last night it seems to me that she will be able to make her career."

"Yes, so long as those who wish to help her do not hinder her instead."

I smiled. "Are you thinking of the Vicomte or the Phantom?"

Mme Giry looked somewhat shocked by my forthrightness.

"The Vicomte has nothing to do with this," was her only audible reply.

"Do you really think that just because she was with the Phantom last night he has destroyed her chances? I did not think that such strong morality was embraced by the theater!"

Mme Giry looked at me for a moment. When she finally spoke there was a seriousness in her voice that could not be made light of.

"Lucette, you know that is not the reason she is put to one side. I am willing to wager that you have had more contact with the Opera Ghost than you let on. It is his notes and demands that are putting Christine's career at risk. If he would just let things take their natural course she would have an assured career. As it is, he is dealing with new managers. They view this as a power struggle. They will do the opposite of what he wants to try and prove themselves in control. It will end badly, I know!"

"Mme. Giry what connection have you to the Opera Ghost?"

"I? Why I have no connection other than as his messenger. Beyond that, I know only what I have observed, and anyone may observe as much." Having said this, she moved away on the pretext of having a word with one of her girls.

I gazed out at the stage without really seeing it. Mme. Giry's answers had been the same I would have used if someone inquired about my relationship with the Opera Ghost. We both knew the other had contact with the ghost, though neither of us would admit it. Why did she just speak to me as she had, then? I believed she was asking for my help in a strange way. She knew I had contact with the ghost, and it seemed she wanted everyone so privileged to be firmly on the side of his letting Christine's career alone.

I sighed. I wondered if Mme Giry was aware that the Ghost's interest in Christine went far beyond her career. In the end, however, if the Phantom really loves Christine, he will have to leave her be. Perhaps he could be persuaded to let the opera house run its own course because of his love for Christine. I would talk to him tonight as soon as the show was over.