She Will Be Loved
Christine sat in her room in the massive de Chagny mansion just outside Paris. She absently brushed the curly locks that cascaded over her shoulders and down the back of her dressing gown. Earlier that evening, she had excused herself from the dinner table, unable to handle the pressures of being a future vicomtess. Everything was so overwhelming for her. She had to handle wedding plans: the style of the dress, the fabric, the color of the flowers, the type of invitations, who should be invited… She wasn't even sure if she was ready to be a vicomtess!
Beauty queen of only eighteen,
She has some trouble with herself.
Unconsciously, her thoughts drifted to the simpler times of being a chorus girl in the opera. All she had to worry about was learning her steps… and attending her lessons with her music tutor… her Erik.
He was always there to help her.
She always belonged to someone else.
Erik sat at his organ in his lair beneath the opera house staring at the keys. Ever since Christine left him, he could not find solace even in his music, so he sat there as always and just stared. It had only been a month since the first and only performance of Don Juan Triumphant but the mob had already been distracted by the events above ground. The people in Paris had more to worry about than a deformed monster.
Each morning that he awoke without seeing Christine, he felt his heart crumble the way it had when she left his life that fateful night. He had to see her again, even if it meant standing in the shadows without her knowing he was there, just as it had been in the opera house when he was merely her Angel of Music. With a new determination and objective in mind, he raced to the de Chagny grounds, scaling the gates with ease.
I drove for miles and miles.
And wound up at your door.
Christine traced her lips with her finger, reliving the kiss she shared with Erik before he sent her away. Suddenly, her balcony doors flew open, the white curtains dancing in the wind like ghosts, beckoning her to come outside.
Part of him felt like this was a dream, an illusion of a reality that was in his reach, yet far from his grasp. Erik looked up from behind the tree that was his hiding place and saw Christine bathed in the moonlight, not believing how she could be even more beautiful than in his dreams.
I've had you so many times.
But somehow I want more.
His dreams were cruel reminders of the truth. In his dreams, Christine came back after he had released her. Rather than leaving her engagement ring in his palm, she gave it back only so he could place it on her finger. But as he embraced his Christine, she evaporated into air, leaving him alone with her scent. He replayed the kiss in his mind, his one and only kiss that anyone had ever given him. What he wouldn't do to taste her lips again…
I don't mind spending everyday out on your corner in the pouring rain.
He stared up at Christine and was surprised to see her brown eyes glistening with unshed tears. The wind whipped her untamed curls about her, crowning the Angel on Earth. She pulled her nightgown closer to her but made no move away from the chilly sky. Her face is so beautiful, Erik thought, so beautiful and yet so sorrowful. What could possibly cause his Angel to weep like that? He wanted to wipe away the tears that threatened to stain her flawless face.
Look for the girl with the broken smile.
Ask her if she wants to stay a while.
Christine stared into the starry sky and thought about how the sky looked atop the opera house. The night Raoul had proposed to her the sky was gray and the stars were prevented from shining by envious storm clouds. She mused how foreshadowing for Erik those clouds were. Rather than shining in triumph with his opera, he was left a broken man. And it was all her fault.
Raoul sat in the dining room, hearing his parents speak about his upcoming wedding but not really listening to what they said. His chest swelled with pride at the thought of Christine as his bride. Though there remained a nagging feeling, a sort of alarm bell that went off at Christine's sudden departure from the dinner table, he tried to push it to the back of his mind and to concentrate on his mother's suggestions for table settings.
And she will be loved.
Erik could still not believe how achingly gorgeous, how much of a goddess Christine was. His heart filled with love for this woman and broke because she could not return his affection.
And she will be loved.
Christine turned to return to her room but stopped abruptly and twisted around. Erik panicked and rushed to the back of the tree, praying that she hadn't seen him but hoping that she had. He climbed up the tree so that he had a clear view of the balcony but would still be concealed by the branches. Christine tilted her head and wondered why her eyes had been drawn to the grounds below. Dismissing it as nerves, she stepped into her room and closed the balcony doors, leaning back on them with a sigh.
Tap on my window,
Knock on my door.
The "reasonable" part of her was still scared of the Phantom and yearned to find safety in Raoul's arms. But her subconscious wished that Erik were there, waiting to sweep her off her feet and take her away from the chaos of her life. Though he had only ever known darkness, she wanted to bring him into the light.
I want to make you feel beautiful.
It was silly, she thought. If only she had been strong enough to relinquish her fears instead of falling back to the safety of what she knew…
I know I tend to get so insecure.
It doesn't matter anymore.
At the de Chagny manor, everything was done for her and the only thing she needed to worry about were the final decisions on wedding preparations. It bored her to death, leaving her too much time to reminisce about her past at the Opera Populaire. She yearned to return to the way things were but knew things could never be the same.
It's not always rainbows and butterflies,
It's compromise that moves us along.
If only Erik didn't push her away after the kiss. If only she had taken him into her arms instead of thrusting the engagement ring into his palm. He had had millions of opportunities to steal her away while everyone was bustling around her, distracted by her upcoming nuptials. Yet he never came…
My heart is full and my door's always open.
You can come anytime you want.
Erik crept closer to the de Chagny manor and waited beneath Christine's balcony. It struck him as somewhat ironic that he was replaying a scene out of her favorite opera, except this time there was no audience present. But all the world's a stage, he thought to himself. Just as a love-struck Romeo sought out his Juliet, he would profess his love to her beneath a balcony, even if she wasn't there to hear it. He began to sing softly…
"I don't mind spending everyday out on your corner in the pouring rain.
Look for the girl with the broken smile.
Ask her if she wants to stay a while.
And she will be loved.
And she will be loved.
And she will be loved.
And she will be loved."
The last four lines were sung increasingly louder and by the final line, he wondered if he had sung too loud that others would be alerted to his presence. Luckily, a roar of laughter erupted from somewhere else in the house, answering his question.
But Christine heard, or at least she thought she heard something, enough to cause her to pull open the balcony doors. Her eyes scanned the trees below, waiting for something, anything…
I know where you hide,
Alone in your car.
I know all of the things that make you who you are.
Erik's location prevented him from seeing Christine, but he felt her all the same. He knew she was back on the balcony.
I know that good-bye means nothing at all.
Comes back and makes me catch her every time she falls.
He had let her go, thinking Raoul could give her what she needed more than he ever could. Yet here she was, standing in the cold that would not do her voice any good, with tears in her eyes. She has the vicomte, money, status, yet why does she still cry?
On the balcony Christine pleaded wordlessly to the night sky.
Tap on my window,
Knock on my door.
"I want to make you feel beautiful," she whispered, the tears finally trickling down her cheeks.
He had looked after her since she was a girl, had comforted her after her father's death. Why could she not do the same for him now?
Look for the girl with the broken smile.
Ask her if she wants to stay a while.
Why couldn't she have had the courage then to love him just as he loved her?
And she will be loved.
And she will be loved.
The thoughts going through her mind were overwhelming. At the time she was supposed to love Raoul, all she could think of was Erik. Sobbing, she moved back toward the room for the third time that night.
Tried so hard to say good-bye.
As soon as he heard her sob, he began to scale the vines up toward the balcony. If she could not find solace with Raoul, the fool that he was, then he would comfort his Angel.
And she will be loved.
And she will be loved.
As she turned to close the balcony doors, she could not help the gasp that slipped through her lips from coming face-to-face with the man of her thoughts: Erik. Her eyes widened with surprise. He was here. He had come for her, which terrified but relieved her all at once.
The only sound that could be heard was their shallow breathing. It seemed like they stood there for a millennia, neither one moving nor willing to break the silence until Erik finally did. With his right hand he brushed away her tears and cupped her cheek, a tender touch that spoke volumes more than the six small words that he uttered, his voice breaking with emotion.
"Tried so hard to say good-bye."