Here is chapter 2; it delves into Erik's character a little more and sets up the background that has made him what he is. You also meet Vince.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Erik or Christine. They are the wonderful creation of Mr. Leroux – but ALW gave them depth and humanity – as did Kay. I do not own any lyrics that are used; they will be credited at the end of the chapter in which they appear.
I do however; own the plot and any original characters, which appear from the dark caverns of my mind.
Character portraits:
Erik – Gerard Butler (There is no other – not for me!)
Christine - Scarlett Johansson (with violet eyes, and a little more of a mature look)
Meckenzie -Emma Karwandy (from Butterfly on a Wheel)
Vince - Pierce Brosnon (slightly shorter)
Karen -Bette Midler (only about ten-years younger, seven inches taller, and long, brown hair)
Ms. Jennison-Samantha Bond (Miss Moneypenny from the latest Bond movies)
Mr. Lynch - Bruce Davison (Senator Kelly from the first X-Men movie)
All other original characters, you can use your imagination.
Enjoy.
CHAPTER 2
"That was great, Erik…you really are helping some people out there – at least according to the fan mail 'The Phantom' is getting." Vincent Trudeau boasted through the earpiece, as he scooted back from the desk, stood up, and came through the door toward Erik.
"I don't know how I let you talk me into this crazy radio show, Uncle." Erik chastised. "What if someone comes up here to find me and discovers that the host of Music of the Night is not a seductive phantom, but a deformed monster?"
Vincent shrugged his shoulders and put on his most wolfish grin, "Relax…that won't happen." He responded back, "Besides, you are not a monster…or a beast…or any other derogatory term you have adopted for yourself over the years." Vincent noted the smirk on Erik's face, "Are you listening to me?" he asked.
Erik chuckled and shook his head, "If I say 'yes', will you cease your droning?" Erik inquired, with a big sigh of exasperation.
He began shutting everything down for the evening while he watched his uncle roll his eyes and give an "I-give-up" shake of his head.
They were more than uncle and nephew; Erik and Vincent were only twelve years apart in age. They were as close as best friends were; in fact, Vincent and Karen were the only ones in the world that Erik would call his friends.
When he was ten, a car accident robbed Erik of his parents and older brother. The same accident took the right side of his face. That night had changed a beautiful, ten-year-old boy into a bitter adolescent.
Vincent had been there from the moment Erik emerged from the wreckage. He had lost his brother, sister-in-law, and his other nephew; he was going to make sure Erik came through this as best he could.
Erik remembered that night as though it were yesterday. The drunk driver crossed the median and slammed into their car. Everyone, except Erik, died instantly – Erik lay in a coma. His older brother, Luke, had just completed his sophomore year of high school. He and Erik had been best friends. Erik still felt the pain of his loss.
Erik had suffered severe facial trauma from coming in contact with the flames that consumed the car, shattered glass, and sheared metal; the entire right side of his face suffered third degree burns and severe cuts, leaving very little for the doctors to salvage and work with.
It took three days for him to awaken, and then the memories kicked in. He spent the next few months in therapy, fighting depression and severe pain. Skin graphs were done to try and give Erik's face the appearance of normalcy, but Erik's system rejected them all – and each attempt left a bigger scar.
He was a scrawny, lanky boy and his hideous, aggravated scars managed to make the bull's-eye on his chest more pronounced; many times, the harassing was abusive and cruel.
Vincent had finally used some of the money his brother had left behind to home school Erik. Vincent had a degree in broadcasting, and he worked for a local radio station in Boston, so they only time he had to spend with Erik was during the evening hours.
It did not take long for him to realize the genius of his nephew. Erik was the replica of both his parents and their intelligence and brilliance had passed to him, in all areas. The boy was moving through his courses at an astonishing speed, as well as devouring piano, violin, and saxophone. He was self-taught on all three.
Even with his genius mind, Erik suffered months of emotional and physical pain after the death of his parents and brother. Although Luke and Erik had been as different as night and day, they had been very close.
There were many times over the course of the next six years, that Vincent had to bring Erik back from the brink of suicide. He was a troubled teenager whose hatred for himself surpassed his hatred for life.
FLASHBACK
"I will not have you giving up on yourself Erik…do you hear me?" Vincent had admonished one day when Erik was sixteen. "Don't waste the gifts you have…you know your family would have wanted you to be better than this…don't let what is left of my brother die with you."
Erik, breathing erratically from one of his rages, glared at his uncle, not wanting to face the pain in his eyes, as his own was more than he could handle.
"I…" Erik suddenly gave in to the tears that had not flowed for six years. "…I miss them so much. Why couldn't it have been me instead of them?" He mournfully cried. He crumbled to the floor, allowing the vulnerable little boy to surface once more.
Vincent rushed to him, collapsed at his side, and held the boy who meant everything to him. "I miss them, too; but I am so thankful to have you, Erik."
Erik didn't look at him, instead he cast his eyes to the floor as if in deep thought, "Every time I look in the mirror…I think about that night…I'll never get those images out of my mind." He finally lifted lamentable eyes to his uncle, "I can't escape it…the anguish taunts me in this ravaged face I must live with."
Once again, He succumbed to tears and Vincent could do nothing but hold him. A boy became a man that night, facing the demons that haunted him every night and becoming stronger than he ever imagined he could be.
END FLASHBACK
Vincent convinced him to start therapy and these sessions were Erik's only outlet for the feelings he once again buried within his wounded heart. He could talk about anything with Dr. Wanda Gray, and she didn't pass judgment. She was an impartial ear with wise limericks and a motherly persona, and Erik enjoyed talking to her.
He was seventeen when the girls started noticing how elegantly he moved within his 6'2" inch frame. To appease the hours that Vincent was at work and calm the ache in his heart and head, Erik had joined a gym. He learned racquetball and tennis, and Jujitsu. He was tanned, toned, and slender; he had thick, wavy, black hair that he swept back casually; and despite the mutilated right side of his face; which he hid behind a white leather mask, his attractiveness was quite evident and hard to miss.
He had impeccable taste in clothing, refined taste in dining, and a deep, subtle intelligence that danced in his sea-colored eyes. He did his best at flirting, but he had no idea what he was doing. The girls responded though, and Erik eventually asked a beautiful blond-haired, blue-eyed girl named Summer Evans, out on a date.
She seemed to enjoy his company and even commented on how "hot" he was. Erik never pursued anything physical, for fear of offending her…he respected her too much to overstep the boundaries.
Eventually, she started asking about the mask. Erik had come to a decision, two months into the relationship, that he would show her what he hid beneath the mask; he wanted no secrets between them. His father and mother had instilled that in him at a very early age: above all else, always be honest – with yourself first, and then with others.
They hadn't been church goers, per say, but they had strict morals which they adhered to, and they expected their boys to accept that standard with no questions asked. Erik found it amusing, the things he remembered now. The good memories and the way they had instilled their values in him were what dominated his thoughts more often than not.
However, Summer had not taken the revealing very well. She could not stop crying and refused to touch him. She had always been touching him; his hands, his knees, his uncovered, perfect cheek – she had even brushed her lips against his in a chaste kiss a time or two…but now, all she could do was recoil from him.
So, Erik swore of girls and romance, knowing they would all view him the same way Summer had. He buried himself in his college plans and, thankfully, found that the people in college were a little less curious about the quiet, reclusive, masked man who always sat in the far corner of the classroom, bathed in shadow.
He found that people fascinated him, although he distanced himself from them. Due to Dr. Gray's influence and friendship, he went on to attain a Doctorate in Psychology and Sociology, as well as a Doctorate in Performing Arts and Art Appreciation. He was twenty-eight when he graduated at the top of his class in both degree programs; that had been five years ago.
Erik's father had been a highly successful cardiologist and his mother had been a published oncologist whose revolutionary studies were making major strides in the battle against many types of cancer.
They had both been amateur musicians and encouraged their boys to use music throughout their lives; no matter what they chose to do for a living. Luke had been an accomplished piano player, but had never gone much past that; choosing to get more involved in athletics. Erik expertly played piano, violin, and saxophone; and still managed to make time for athletics.
Upon their deaths, Erik became the sole beneficiary of both life insurance policies and the entire estate, valued at just over 2.3 million dollars. He could not touch the life insurance policies until he was 21; each of them was worth one million dollars. His Uncle Vincent, his father's brother, was given custody and was to manage Erik's finances until he came of age.
Erik used the genius he had inherited from both parents, to wisely invest the money and attain even greater wealth; of course, none of this mattered, he still bore the mark on the right side of his face that would keep him from love and happiness; after all, who could love a deformed, repulsive, recluse?
He soon learned to admire women from afar, never pursuing them in any way. His all-to-human sex drive was submerged within him, as he did his best to ignore it and move on. When it became too intense, he took matters into his own hands, so to speak.
After graduation, he founded a very elite school for blind students wishing to pursue careers in music, theater, or opera. He fully believed that one's eyes were not needed when painting a picture with music – one simply had to feel the masterpiece as it flowed from within.
He was CEO and president of the school, but his love was in teaching. He taught individual lessons in voice, piano, and violin to children between four and twelve years of age. His students were blind, but to salvage his reputation and for the sake of protocol, he always had another person in the room, and he stayed in the shadows.
He rarely associated with the staff and most of the decisions he had to make were done over the phone. He was a virtual prisoner within the confines of his own body; despite Vincent's efforts to bring him into the public.
His uncle had put his college degree to good use, and had purchased a waning radio station and turned it into a great success. He understood the mixed interests of his vast audience, and dedicated different times of the day to different types of music.
When he found himself with an empty time slot from 2 am to 6 am, he knew he had to get Erik involved. He had watched as Erik had grown into a magnificent man, with more intelligence and talent in his little finger than most people had in their entire bodies.
"Come on, Erik…you're are an excellent counselor, therapist, and musician. We can combine all of those talents and build a radio show around them." Vincent insisted. "Your voice is second to none, and I know it would be successful."
Erik frowned at his best friend and uncle. "What kind of radio show are you talking about?" He asked, almost regretting it.
Vincent smiled, knowing he had captured Erik's vivid imagination. "We could call it 'Music of the Night', after that wonderful song that you wrote in college – in fact, that could be the theme song!"
His face lit up that idea. Vincent thought Erik was, undeniably, the most intelligent man he had ever known; a genius…in everything he put his mind to. There was nothing that would be denied him if he would just allow the world to know him.
"People are hurting Erik…in many places…their hearts, their souls, their lives…everywhere. You are very empathetic – which, I suppose, is a good thing to be in your line of expertise; you are a licensed therapist and psychologist and possess a vast knowledge of music, its origins, and the therapeutic qualities it contains." Vincent stopped for a moment, hoping that Erik was catching the same vision he was.
"They wouldn't have to have your real name…we could give you a pseudonym – something dark and mysterious; for a few hours a week you could escape being Erik Trudeau, man extraordinaire." Vincent chuckled at that name, and looked over at Erik. He was smiling too, making Vincent feel more at ease about the whole situation. "You know it's a great idea, I even asked Karen what she thought, she agrees."
Two months later, Erik found himself behind the microphone and in front of Vincent as he did a live take for his show. The feedback was astounding. Everyone wanted to know who the man was whose voice soothed the bitter refuse of their lives and taught them about music at the same time.
Erik was an expert in every type of music; he had no qualms about discussing the latest pop rock single, country recording, or the most magnificent piece by Mozart or Beethoven. It soon became obvious to Vincent that he had a hit on his hands.
Vincent stuck to his promise and did not give out any of Erik's identity; he was very elusive about the man who had captured every woman's heart with his deep, resonating tone and sensual intelligence.
But, as people are prone to do, they created a character for him, and "The Phantom" was born. Vincent thought the name was appropriate since the definitions of "phantom" were something apparently seen, heard, or sensed, but having no physical reality, such as a ghost or an apparition; and, something elusive or delusive. Erik fit both descriptions perfectly, and Vincent knew the name was destined to stick.
Erik had not engaged in any recreational activities in so many years, Vincent began to think the man was a robot. He hoped this radio show would give Erik a little self-confidence and maybe get him to interact with other people, preferably of the female persuasion.
Vincent could not remember the last time Erik had been out with a woman after the disaster with Summer. On the rare occasions that Vincent was able to get Erik to mingle with the public, Vincent could see in his eyes the admiration Erik held for women. He would quietly watch them as they passed by him, completely missing the interested look they would give him.
Vincent had been in a fulfilling, on-going relationship for several years now. His partner in crime was a woman ten years older than he was, named Karen. She was not your typical beauty, but Vincent loved her immensely, and she made him happy.
It was a rather shocking exchange when Vincent introduced her to Erik. She was almost as tall as Vincent was, with a stocky build, and long, flowing legs and equally long brown hair. She was completely against marriage or any institutionalized union, so they resided in separate apartments but spent just about every waking moment together; as well as many of the non-waking moments.
Erik didn't approve of their arrangement, but he loved Karen just as he would an aunt; and he knew she cared about him, also.
"Are you ready for the hoards of screaming females that will undoubtedly be asking about how they can get their hands on you?" Vincent asked, as they made their way to their respective cars.
Erik scoffed at that and shook his head, thinking his uncle has lost his mind, "As long as no one asks to meet me…I'm good." Erik responded circumspectly.
He waved at Vincent as he slipped into his car and drove away. He needed to get back to his home and get some rest. Perhaps he would do some composing later when he awakened; he hadn't done that in many weeks and school was about to start.
TBC