I don't own Phantom of the Opera.
My watch is smarter than I am. In the heat of the moment I realized that I was still in my modern clothes. I was dropped off in the passageway of the lair. I changed really quickly into the ballet clothes in my dance bag, listening closely to make sure no one was going to walk up on me. After changing I placed my bag against the wall and strode into the lair with a brave face. Well, not quite. I saw the boat on the other side of the lake. I looked around for somehow to get around and found none except for a door on the other side. Great.
I stepped back into the passageway and clutched my watch to my chest. "Okay little watch, lead me to the door."
I walked around the passageways for about five minutes, groping along the walls and stepping carefully in order to not trip or break a leg, before finding the door. I pushed it open gently and peeked through it. I saw him then. He must have come out from wherever while I was looking for a way over here.
His back was facing me. He was hunched over a desk writing hurriedly. His mask was off, but his deformity didn't look as bad as others thought t was. He was actually quite handsome. I crept forward a bit. The only thing coming to mind as I watched his hand scribble over paper was Hamilton.
"Why do you write like your running out of time?
Why do you write like tomorrow won't arrive?"
He looked up in surprise, but it quickly turned to anger.
"You." He stood up and rushed over to me. I backed up a little as I realized that I have no common sense and that he could easily kill me.
"WHY DO YOU SEEK OUT MY RAGE AND FIRE?
WHAT DO YOU WANT THAT'S SO DIRE?
I AM BEGINNIG TO TIRE OF YOU.
IS THIS WHAT YOU WANTED TO SEE?
THE FACE OF A BEAST?
THEN LOOK!"
His singing was fill rage and anger and hurt. I realized now he had backed me into the wall. His face was close to mine as he scanned my face for fear of him, but I refused to give him that.
"I do not see a beast.
Not in you at least.
I see a genius.
One who leaves us in the real world.
Whose eyes are so old?"
He backed away from me. "You aren't afraid of me. You've seen my face and aren't afraid." He looked down trying to process that I was different. "I told you before that I wanted to be your friend. Give me a chance?" He looked up and stared for a few moments before slowly nodding. "Now monsieur, I have a proposition for you."
"So your friendship comes with a price?"
"No, I just want to learn from the best." I walked towards him and held out a hand. "Hello, I'm Cosarine. Could you teach me to sing?"
"Why? Do you plan on taking leads in the Opera house?" I realized now that he thought of me as a threat to Christine.
"No, not here."
"And what would I get in return? I can't think of anything I want from you."
"That is not how friendship works, but when you figure something out, let me know."
He now took my hand and shook it.
"Come when you want. I will leave it to you to actually get here." He returned to his desk.
"Well aren't you a gentleman. I'll be back tomorrow. Wait, one more question. What should I call you?"
He didn't even look up when he answered. "Monsieur Phantom." Darn. I thought I would get his name out of him.
