Mom, they're making me do a DISCLAIMER: I don't own any version of Phantom, ALW, GL, SK, or various other adaptations. And I don't own Shakespeare's quote, aka the title of this story. But I do own other things...figure it out for yourself. R&R!
Chapter 1—Loss and Music
"Think of me, think of me fondly when we've said goodbye!
Remember me, once in a while, please promise me you'll try!"
The melody ran through my head as I wrote the lyrics in the margin of my social studies notes. I was supposed to be studying, but I couldn't stop singing to myself. My ADD prevented any sort of concentration on the Civil War. To me, almost nothing was more of a letdown than the six and a half hours we were forced to spend in school 180 days of the year. I had been receiving B's and C's lately because the disorder of my mind had worsened over the switch from a private school to a public school. I had been in the public school since fourth grade, and now, as a freshman with spring fever as well as attention deficiency, I couldn't keep my mind on anything.
Anything, that is, that did not interest me. I could concentrate enormously when playing my electric guitar, or singing a song, or learning my part for the musical that I was in. This was often the problem—I would be thinking about Christine's character rather than Chrissy's homework. I would be picturing the Phantom standing before me instead of one of my teachers. As you have probably guessed, I am playing Christine in The Phantom of the Opera. When the local playhouse—The Actors' Place—had had the auditions, I was practically jumping out of my skin. Phantom had been my obsession for over two years, and I had immediately tried out for my dream role of Christine. I had rehearsal today, and I couldn't wait for 2:15 to come so I could escape the clutches of the self-called authority.
"Chrissy? Chrissy!"
The teaching assistant, Mrs. Frost, had a voice that could cut glass. I snapped out of my reverie and looked up at her. "What?"
"Who was the leader of Pickett's Charge?"
I shrugged. "Pickett?" I guessed. What the hell was Pickett's Charge?
"You're guessing," she said accusingly. I shrugged again. "Try studying instead of covering your notes with writing. Come on now, get going."
Come on now, get going. I mocked her inside my head but dared not say anything aloud. Dutifully, I laid down my pencil and bent my head over the page. I was going to fail the bloody test anyway, so what? I could be an actress without knowing what Pickett's Charge was. Honestly.
Thankfully, the bell rang. I dashed off to lunch—only it and science to go. At least I had lunch group today, where my two friends, Aria and Megan, and I went to the guidance office to escape the lunchroom and talk with each other. They both loved Phantom as well—and although Aria's strict religion as a Jehovah's Witness kept her from being involved, Meg had gotten a supporting role in the musical alongside me. It was funny how I—Chrissy—was cast as Christine, and Megan had the part of Meg.
I was only too happy to escape from the Social Studies room, and then from the cafeteria, to finally relax on the leather couch in Mrs. Galen's office. I proceeded to devour my macaroni and cheese, which was usually pretty bad but was good for some reason today. Megan came in, followed by Aria, and we all locked our eyes on the TV screen. For every lunch group, one of us brought along the new DVD of Phantom, starring Gerard Butler, Emmy Rossum, and Patrick Wilson. We loved to sing along with our parts, and today we watched the scene where Christine and Meg sing "Angel of Music."
"Angel of Music, guide and guardian, grant to me your glory!"
"Who is this Angel, this…"
"Angel of Music, hide no longer! Secret and strange Angel!"
"I wish I had an Angel of Music," I commented dreamily. Aria shook her head.
"It would seem awfully scary," she said. Just then, the phone rang, and Mrs. Galen went to pick it up as the rest of us continued to watch the movie. She glanced at me, her usually neutral face going several shades paler. I didn't entirely notice until she hung up and stopped the movie. She stood in front of the screen.
"Chrissy—I have terrible news."
I was immediately alert, putting down the tray I had been holding. "What is it?"
"Your father," she began, "he was driving down the highway. The rain we've been having all day has made the roads terrible, and he lost control of the wheel. He skidded off the road and crashed. I'm sorry, Chrissy—he didn't make it."
The realization hit me like a sledgehammer. All of the color drained from my face, and my hands gripped the edge of the seat. My father—the only member of my family who had been kind to me—was dead. Oh, god.
The sympathetic Aria was looking at me in mingled horror and pity. She moved to sit next to me, wrapping her arms around me in a comforting embrace. Megan reached out and put a hand on my arm.
"No," I whispered. "No—this can't happen to me. Not now."
"Chrissy, I'm sorry," said Mrs. Galen again.
Fury and sadness welled up in my heart. I pushed my friends away and stormed out of the room. I thought I heard them calling after me, but I broke into a run, straight down the hall and out of the building. My blind anger kept me going. I couldn't see a thing in the pouring rain. I didn't know exactly how I got there, but I suddenly found myself at the back door of The Actors' Place. I opened the door and made my way through a secret passage that I had discovered to the hall that housed my personal dressing room. I burst into it and flung myself onto the couch, and only then did I allow tears. But although I willed them to, no tears would fall from my eyes. Only dry sobs racked my body, and I buried my face in one of the pillows, shaking.
I heard something click near my door, but nothing mattered now. My only true friend in the world was gone, and I was alone. Finding that I could not cry, I sat up and began to sing softly, my breath still catching in my throat.
"Child of the…wilderness, born into…emptiness,
Learn to…be lonely! Learn to…find your…way in…darkness!
Who will…be there…for you…comfort…and care for…you?
Learn to…be lonely! Learn to be…your one…companion—"
I couldn't go on. Would I ever learn to be lonely? I would have to. I couldn't let the cast down. I would have to put the pain of my losing my father into Christine, who had lost hers as well. I buried my head in my hands, still shaking irrepressibly.
"Chrissy…Chrissy…"
My head jerked up. "Whose is that voice?" I said quietly.
"Wandering child, so lost, so helpless, yearning for my guidance!"
The next line of the song came to me almost automatically.
"Angel or father, friend or phantom, who is it there, staring?"
I heard a violin's faint strains playing. The music seemed to be coming from the walls of the room, and I looked around fearfully.
"Too long you've wandered in winter, far from my far-reaching gaze!"
"Wildly my mind beats against you…"
"You resist…"
"…yet the soul obeys!"
Whose was this voice? It called to me so sweetly, making me forget the entire world around me, and I only knew that I had endured the pain of a great loss. On instinct, I looked toward the tall mirror that was on one wall. To my shock, I saw, not a reflection of the room, but a shadowy figure, his face partially covered in a white mask. His image became sharper as I watched him, and he stepped out of the mirror towards me.
"Who are you?" I asked him. "Are you the Angel of Music?"
"I am no Angel," he replied. "You may call me Erik."
It was as though he had me under a spell. I never told my body to rise, but it did as Erik held out his black-gloved hand. My eyes never leaving his face, I took it. His touch sent fiery spasms down my arm, but it was more pleasure than pain. The unmasked side of his face was incredibly handsome and tempting. He wasn't exactly smiling, but his emerald eyes held a spark that drew me in like a magnet. His other hand went out and touched my face gently.
"I have been watching you for some time, Chrissy," he said, his deep, seductive voice filling my mind. "You sing like an angel."
"Me?" I said, confused.
"Yes," he replied. "I hear you sing Christine's role, and I hear the pain you have endured and the beauty that will be. I need your voice, Chrissy. It calls me out of the depths of self-hatred and makes me live again. Come with me," he said, drawing me a bit closer to him, "and we shall sing, such music as has never been even dreamed of!"
"Where?"
His palm trailed down my cheek and touched my neck. "To the place that I live in. It is a temple of music, Chrissy. Music is the only god to me. Come."
He let go of the hand he held, moving both to my back. He pulled me into his arms and I gazed up at him, catching my breath. Strangely, I did not feel as though I needed to be afraid. As long as he touched me, I was safe—safe from the world and all its hardships. I wanted to go to this place of which he had told me. It seemed almost surreal as he took my hand again and led me to the mirror. Without hesitation, I stepped inside, and it slid shut behind us. Erik stopped and cupped my chin with his hand.
"Sing for me, Angel! Sing music from the Opera!"
My voice almost didn't need the command. I began 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!"
As I sang, he led me through a dark hallway, always going down farther, deep into the earth. This was the part where he came in, and he did, his rich tenor making the tunnel ring with sound.
"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."
We had come upon a black horse. Erik placed his hands gently around my waist and lifted me into the saddle. One of his hands took the reins of the horse, and the other remained on my leg, making sure I did not fall off.
"Those who have seen your face draw back in fear.
I am the mask you wear!"
"It's me they hear!"
When our voices joined, I felt the passion grow and was grateful for his support.
"Your / my spirit and my / your voice in one combined!
The Phantom of the Opera is there, inside my / your mind!"
Now we had come upon a vast lake. Mist swirled over it, and after lifting me down from the horse's back, Erik guided me to a wooden gondola that was docked nearby. He continued to sing.
"In all your fantasies, you always knew
That man and mystery…"
"…were both in you!"
The boat was small, and he stood so close behind me as he poled it along that I rested my back against his legs. The contact burned through me, keeping me safe.
"And in this Labyrinth, where night is blind,
The Phantom of the Opera is here / there, inside my / your mind!"
His fingers touched my neck, and he said, "Sing, my Angel of Music!" Obediently, I did.
"He's there, the Phantom of the Opera…"
My extravagant vocalizing echoed and bounced off the water and the walls. I sang as I had never sung before, pouring my entire heart into the notes. We approached a metal gate, which lifted, and I saw a dwelling carved into the rock and decked with thousands of candles. Candelabra rose from the lake itself, their candles lighting magically. I continued with my final notes, hitting the top of my range perfectly.
Erik brought the boat up to the shore, and I felt suddenly cold as he leapt out. He set the pole against the stone wall, removing his cloak with a swish, and extended a hand to me. I placed my hand delicately in his, and the heat was back.
"I have brought you to the seat of sweet Music's throne,
To this kingdom where all must pay homage to Music, Music…
You have come here with one purpose and one alone!
Since the moment I first heard you sing, I have needed you with me,
To serve me, to sing for my Music, my Music…"
By this time, he had pulled me away from the lake and farther forward, nearing a set of stone stairs. He let go of me for a moment to remove his gloves and set them aside, then caught my hand again and brought it to his lips. The touch of them was light at first, just barely brushing my knuckles, but it deepened as he moved up to my wrist, forearm, and the crook of my elbow. He turned me as he was doing this, until his mouth was on my neck and my back pressed against him.
His large, warm hands were flat on my stomach, bringing me into him with passion. Yet he was so kind and gentle—exactly what I needed at a time like this. I relaxed, and leaned my head back on his shoulder. He touched my cheekbone with his lips, and I sighed in contentment.
"Erik…" I murmured.
"Shhh, sweet," he said, and began to sing.
"Nighttime sharpens, heightens each sensation!
Darkness stirs and wakes imagination!
Silently the senses abandon their defenses,
Helpless to resist the notes I write,
For I compose the music of the night!"
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Her eyes closed, and Erik brushed her neck again with his lips. He loved the way she stood against him, her frail body drawing in his strength like sunshine.
"Close your eyes, for your eyes will only tell the truth,
And the truth isn't what you want to see!
In the dark, it is easy to pretend…that the truth is what it ought to be!
Floating, falling, sweet intoxication!
Touch me, trust me, savor each sensation!
Let the dream begin! Let your darker side give in
To the power of the music that I write,
The power of the music of the night!"
One of her hands had lifted to touch the left, unmarred side of his face. Her stroke was as light as a butterfly's, but he could feel her quivering slightly. Concerned, he reached out and took his cloak off of the chair he'd left it over and draped her in it. She pulled it around her tightly, and he wrapped her in his arms again.
"Chrissy, dear, let me teach you! I will make your voice that of a goddess! And when we sing together, the earth beneath our feet will cry out! Please, Chrissy…"
She was more relaxed than he'd ever seen her, even in sleep. She was beautiful, he thought, more stunningly divine than the summer stars. And yet, she had been mistreated her entire life—picked on, pushed about, and ignored by all. He could not understand it. But he would make her feel loved. He would show her how much he needed her. He would be kind and caring to her—something she had hardly ever gotten from anyone other than her father. Now that he was gone, it was Erik's turn to keep Chrissy from going astray.
"Erik…please…"
She was going to say no. He knew it. His mouth twisted in disappointment. But then…
"…teach me!"
His grip on her tightened accidentally, and she let out a slight gasp. He loosened his hold apologetically.
"I will lay the world at your feet, my darling!"
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Erik took a step around me so that we faced each other. Gazing up into his eyes, some force of power overtook me, and my legs gave way. I was still awake as he caught me and lifted me in his arms, but the warmth of his body and the pulse of his heart when he carried me began to lull me into sleep.
Extremely drowsy, I smiled sleepily as he laid me down on a soft bed. He began to leave, but I clutched at his hand.
"Please don't go!"
I tugged him gently toward me, and he sighed and lay down next to me. His arms encircled my waist, and I pressed my face into his chest. He was delightfully warm beneath my cheek, and I felt him graze the top of my head with his lips. I wanted to give Erik my life. I had never felt so safe as I did now.
"You alone can make my song take flight!
Help me make the music of the night!"
My last thoughts were of Erik as I drifted off.
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He felt her relax into the bliss of sleep. There was no such escape for him, but he lay there for a few minutes, enjoying her slight weight on his torso. He then shook his head and moved her carefully off of him, covering her immediately with the silken sheet, and stood to leave, his eyes still upon her. Against his own demands, he bent one last time and kissed her gently on the lips. She shifted slightly but did not awaken. He sighed, feeling like a fool, and left the room.
A/N: Hee hee! I always start authoress's notes like that. WHO LOVES MODERN-DAY PHANTOM! Oh well...basically a parallel story in this chapter, but don't worry, it gets more original with the delicious hint of the ALW plot that you all love! And I know you're going to flame me for all the lyrics here...but it gets better, this is just the lovely intro of my beautious characters. Love it or hate it, just hit that button down there! Your flames keep me warm at night!
P. S. Anyone want to beta!