Disclaimer: I don't own Phantom of the Opera, I own my own characters. Enjoy.
A/N: Well guys, this is it. sniffle it's been fun! I'll probably do an epilogue afterwards, just to close everything up, but after that I got nothin'. Possible sequel, any ideas?
Chapter XX: The Finale
Six months later…
Adrien slipped between groups of chattering high-society people, quickly making his way backstage. A gala was being held to celebrate the reopening of the opera house, in his and Isabella's honor. They, in turn, silently honored Erik, for he had been more a part of the structure than anyone could imagine. Two weeks before, an article had appeared in the Epoque, simply reading Erik is dead.
Adrien knew it was their responsibility and their duty to Erik to carry on his legacy, and the story of the fabled Opera Ghost. Since they now owned the opera, he had made certain that Box Five was left vacant, as always, and a rose tied with black ribbon left on the seat of the red velvet armchair in memoriam.
Deftly pulling on a tight, Spanish-styled burgundy jacket, he slipped a black mask over his face. He and Isabella were performing none other than Erik's grand masterpiece, Don Juan Triumphant. Of course the media had had a field day with the story already, blaring about how it was during this very opera when the Ghost had stolen Christine away and never been seen again. Why, they asked, would two such young and beautiful owners of the opera dare to tarnish their own reputations by allowing such an outrageous, haunted show to be performed? For no one yet knew that it was Adrien and Isabella themselves who were portraying the Phantom and Christine's characters.
Adrien swept silently from the dressing room and nearly ran into Meg. She gasped and backed away respectfully, even fearfully, yet still managing a smile.
"You look… just like him," she said quietly.
He smirked in response, lips curving sensually beneath the mask, and disappeared in the wings.
Isabella sat at her vanity, chiding herself. This would be her debut show, a dream come true. And as that dream come true, she shouldn't feel at all nervous! But of course, her feelings were quite the opposite of what they should have been. Butterflies danced in her stomach as she fixed a blooming crimson rose in her hair. The dress was an exact replica of Christine's, with wide lace straps and a golden waterfall skirt.
"Oh, Erik," she whispered. "I know you're here, somewhere. Give me the strength to do this for you tonight."
Crossing herself, she stood and exited the room.
Everyone was waiting for the climax, the Point of No Return sequence. Isabella watched as the chorus girls performed flawlessly and without fear, hoping she could do the same. Meg approached her as they waited, handing her a rose tied with black ribbon. Isabella turned to her quizzically. "Did someone give this to you from Erik's box?"
Meg smiled. "Someone gave it to me, my dear, but rest assured that no one has entered the private box."
"Then why…?"
She gasped when she examined it further and discovered a diamond ring tied to the rose. "Did he…?"
Meg nodded. "You must respond."
"But how will I—"
"He'll know," she interrupted, "now go on, it's your turn."
Isabella dropped the rose in her basket with the others and wandered out onto the stage, singing softly. "No thoughts within her head but thoughts of joy… No dreams within her heart but dreams of love…"
She picked up the rose and examined the ring further without letting the audience see as Adrien entered.
You have come here
In pursuit of your deepest urge
In pursuit of that wish which
Till now has been silent
Silent…
She shivered and allowed herself to glance at him for the first time. A second later she wished she hadn't, for now it seemed impossible to look away. He was a magnificent sight to behold with his cape draped over one shoulder and his mask gleaming in the firelight.
I have brought you
That our passions may fuse and merge
In your mind you've already succumbed to me
Dropped all defenses, completely succumbed to me
Now you are here with me
No second thoughts
You've decided
Decided…
Oh, how she loved his dark hiss. She rose slowly as he came toward her, his voice taking on a dangerous tone.
Past the point of no return
No backward glances
Our games of make-believe
Are at an end
Past all thought of 'if' or 'when'
No use resisting
Abandon thought and let
The dream descend
He swept behind her, stroking her long black hair and skimming a hand down her hips.
What raging fire shall flood the soul?
What rich desire unlocks its door?
What sweet seduction lies before us?
Past the point of no return
The final threshold
What warm, unspoken secrets
Will we learn
Beyond the point of no return?
Adrien kissed her hand and backed away slowly, not daring to take his eyes off her lest she disappear. Her straight black hair, so unlike Christine's curls, shimmered in the light as she smiled at him.
You have brought me
To that moment when words run dry
To that moment when speech disappears
Into silence
Silence…
I have come here
Hardly knowing the reason why
In my mind I've already imagined
Our bodies entwining, defenseless and silent
Now I am here with you
No second thoughts
I've decided
Decided…
Isabella gave him a pointed look as she sang, and his mouth opened in shock.
Adrien stared at her, hardly daring to believe what he knew she meant. He barely noticed that his feet moved as they climbed opposite ladders to the raised platform.
Past the point of no return
No going back now
Our passion-play has now
At last begun
Past all thought of right or wrong
One final question:
How long should we two wait
Before we're one?
When will the blood begin to race?
The sleeping bud burst into bloom?
When will the flames at last consume us?
Adrien could hardly keep himself from racing across the stage and sweeping her off her feet right there. The flames illuminated every curve of her figure, tempting, inviting…
His steps were deliberate, barely suppressing the emotion that was rocking him.
Past the point of no return
The final threshold
The bridge is crossed, so stand
And watch it burn
We've passed the point of no return…
He spun her in his arms, reminiscent of that night so long ago when they had first sung. As the music drew to a close, he decided on an especially scandalous finish. Isabella seemed to have the same idea. She spun around and their lips met. Her tongue leapt into his mouth and he sighed heavily.
Several audience members gasped as they drew apart, and one woman yelled, "It's the Phantom, back again!"
At this, police erupted from the crowd aiming muskets at the stage. Isabella clung to Adrien's chest in fright. He held her tightly as they flew down to the stage floor on a rope.
"Put your hands up and don't move!" the captain yelled.
Adrien didn't move. "First tell us why all of this is transpiring!"
The man sneered incredulously. "Don't play innocent with us, monsieur. You've fooled us for years. It ends now!"
"Yes it does!" Adrien stormed to the edge of the stage and ripped the mask from his face.
The captain gasped. "Monsieur de Chagny! How…"
"Your problem, captain, is that you jump to conclusions much too often," Adrien said, glaring at him.
"But the Phantom…"
"The Phantom is dead," Isabella cried.
"He was a father to me," Adrien added. "Perhaps many of you missed it in the newspaper a few weeks ago, there was only a single line mentioning his passing. But you may now all forget this stupid manhunt! My God, it was almost forty years ago, leave us be!"
Isabella rushed to his side and he kicked a lever in the floor. The trapdoor opened and they fell…
Seven floors beneath the opera, Adrien and Isabella embraced in the darkness.
"Does this mean yes?" he asked, his eyes laughing at her.
She smiled back. "Of course it does."