Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Phantom of the Opera (stuffs Erik into a closet to hide him from lawyers). See?
AN: Erik sings in this chapter, which should make a lot of people (including the authoress) very happy. I hope that this isn't too sappy, either, because I know too much of the stuff tends to ruin a story. Please let me know your opinions in a review! Thanks, and enjoy!
Chapter 3: Meeting Fate:
As the notes for the Phantom of the Opera song began, I closed my eyes and let myself get lost in its magic. It was one of my favorite songs on the soundtrack, and I always imagined it was me being led down into the dark caverns instead of Christine. I would always picture the Phantom taking my hand and singing only to me, his voice strong and powerful as he took me to his house on the lake. A sigh escaped my lips as I pictured Erik's hands slipping around my waist, helping me into his gondola as he began his part of the duet.
"Sing once again with me, our strange duet," a voice commanded from beside me, bold and incredibly beautiful.
My eyes flew open as I realized that the voice was not part of the soundtrack.
"My power over you…grows stronger yet," the voice sang from behind my back, moving right to left. I turned to my right, hoping to see who was singing, but strong fingers on my shoulders stopped me in my tracks. "And though you turn from me, to glance behind…the Phantom of the Opera is there…inside your mind."
I could feel my heart stop in my chest as his part ended and Christine's began. I felt a bit depressed, knowing that I couldn't sing her part, but I could feel my lips moving in syncopation with the words, responding to his irresistible call. As the two of us joined into the duet, the mysterious stranger actually singing the words to me and me lip-synching back to him, my heart began to pound. For a moment, I was ready to do anything this man asked of me, even if it was to jump off of the stage and into the orchestra pit, breaking every bone in my body in the process. Finally, he released my shoulders, just as he began commanding for Christine, his Angel of Music, to sing. No sound escaped my lips as I turned around, my nose colliding with a broad chest.
I blinked in surprise before glancing up…straight into a white half-mask.
Erik didn't know why he had joined into the song that way; one moment he had been watching this beautiful woman savor his music, and the next, he had felt the need to join into the male half of the duet. Apparently, she could not sing the female part, but he didn't care; he just wanted to sing to her.
A century ago, he had written this song for his beloved, his fated bride, intending for her to sing it or hear it sung to her on their wedding day. At first, Erik had thought that it had been meant for Christine's angelic voice, and so had pressured her to perform it for him upon her first visit to his lair. When she had left him alone in his darkness, gliding off into the distance with her precious Raoul, Erik had tucked the song away, never again intending it to be performed. However, he had decided to bring it out to be put into Andrew Lloyd Webber's musical about his life as the Phantom, praying that, someday, the other half of his heart would hear it and come to him.
And so it had. Before him stood the proof of his efforts, gazing up at him with awe.
Soon, the song ended, and before the next one began, Erik reached out and turned off the music player in her hands. Instead, he parted his lips and began another song that he himself had not sung for nearly 130 years.
I thought I would die from heart failure and pleasure overload when the masked man began singing Music of the Night, sans instrumentals. Green eyes bore into my brown ones, the incredibly tall man before me singing with such intense passion and force that it nearly drove me to my knees. As he took my hands in his, leading me as he sang, my body obeyed him without question, almost as if it were under his complete power. As he continued singing, I could see the emotional toil in his eyes.
"Let your mind start to journey through a strange new world! Leave all thoughts of the life you knew before!" he sang. "Let your soul take you where you long to be…"
The last note rang out across the chamber as my entire body froze where it stood, waiting for his next word.
"Only then…can you belong…to me."
My world went dark.
He caught her just as she fainted into his arms, much like Christine had all those years ago. However, this time it was different; instead of fainting from fright, this Angel had likely fainted from the power he wielded with his voice, a power he had not intended to use.
"Forgive me, my darling," he whispered to her as he pulled her into his arms, careful to remove the delicate music player from her hands and setting it beside the nearby speaker.
Once he was sure she was free of any hindrances, Erik lifted his precious burden and carried her backstage to where he knew a lounging couch sat, waiting for the next performance. Carefully, he set her upon the red velvet cushions, laying her head down last of all, both hands treating it like the fragile thing it was. After she was securely on the couch, Erik fell to his knees beside her, caressing her face and attempting to see that she was breathing properly.
Never before had someone fainted from the power of his music, and yet here lay a woman who had become so entranced with his creations and his voice that she had fallen into his arms. She would likely be embarrassed when she awoke, but Erik intended to do everything in his power to make her feel comfortable in his presence. People today were slightly more tolerant of the deformed, but he would not take the risk of frightening her before they had officially met.
'Then, after we are introduced, I will come to know her,' he thought as his fingers wound their way through her glittering brown tresses. 'And she…she will come to know me.'
As I drifted dreamily through my mind, confused by what had just happened, I felt gentle fingers running through my hair and heard a voice humming softly from above me. At first, I thought that perhaps I had died and was now in Heaven, but the painful cramp that abruptly shot through my shoulder convinced me otherwise, and I couldn't hold back a groan of pain.
"Mon Dieu, are you alright, cherie?" asked a concerned voice as the fingers stopped their movements and reached for my own hands.
I let my eyes open slowly and found myself staring into familiar, intense green orbs. I let my gaze travel over a very finely chiseled male face, his dark hair practically glowing in the lights above the stage. The man had an incredibly profound presence, though he didn't appear to know it. Strong, gentle fingers clamped onto mine and pulled them up towards his mouth, where he proceeded to give them the traditional French greeting of a kiss on the hand. I found myself staring at his lips as they softly pressed against the skin of my hand, feeling like warm, velvet flower petals. I opened my mouth to speak, but lost the ability as soon as he smiled at me.
'Oh, my God,' I thought, staring at him in awe as I prepared to swoon.
"It would please me very much to know the name of the angel before me," the strange man said, keeping his voice soft and soothing.
"Um," I said, staring into his eyes. "I'm…Alisa…Alisa Chapman."
"Alisa," he repeated, though it sounded like a sigh. "A lovely name for a lovely girl."
I blushed. "Thank you."
The stranger shifted, and I could see that he was kneeling beside me, resting on the floor next to the expensive-looking couch that I was currently lying on. Feeling horrible about making him take an uncomfortable position, I sat up, turning my body to the right so that I could see him better.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you kneel down like that," I apologized as I swung my legs over the right side of the couch.
Gently, the man grasped my fingers and stood up, helping me to my own feet in the process. Once I was fully upright, I reluctantly pulled my hands free and began to awkwardly dust myself off, staring down at the ground as I did so. After I was done straightening my clothes, I glanced up at him from beneath my eyelashes. He hadn't moved an inch, and was still staring at me with such intensity that I couldn't hold back the blush running through my cheeks.
"I'm sorry, I'm afraid I don't even know your name," I said, still not making eye contact.
"Forgive me," he said. "My name is Erik…Erik Garnier."
I looked up at him and gave a shy smile. "It's nice to meet you, Mr. Garnier," I commented, holding my right hand out for him to shake.
He took my hand, but instead of shaking it, he bent forwards and kissed it again, just like he had before. "Enchante, mademoiselle," Erik replied with a purr in his voice.
"Oh, um…" A deliciously cold shiver went down my spine as I listened to the sound of his voice. If it were possible, I'd listen to him talk to me forever. "Thank you."
Holding my breath, I waited for him to speak again.
Erik could feel a smirk appear as he straightened to his full height. The young woman before him, Alisa, appeared to be trapped between being uncomfortably shy and being in a trance. Her luscious brown eyes were wide as she stared up at him, and her lips were parted in awe. However, he could sense that she was shy and inexperienced when it came to speaking to men.
'As I tend to be inexperienced when it comes to speaking to beautiful young women,' he thought as he looked her up and down. 'Hmm, a beautiful American woman, judging by her accent.'
Alisa was not tall, the top of her head ending where the tip of his collarbone was, but she was just about the perfect height for him to wrap his arms around without any difficulty of bending over. Her body was what could only be called 'curvaceous,' meaning that although she was small, she also bore the full curves that all men one hundred years earlier, primarily during Erik's previous lifetime, lusted for. Privately, Erik was glad that he would not have to treat her like a fragile thing, preferring to enjoy the ripe magnificence that she had to offer him instead.
'She's not like those ghastly stick-figures that women try to be like today,' he thought as he gave her an appreciative glance. 'The modern supermodels look horrible and sickly, but Alisa looks deliciously healthy.' This was quite true, as her skin and hair were glowing in the bright stagelights
"I take it you enjoy the music from the stage performance?" he asked, amused as Alisa's eyes went blank in confusion. "Or do you prefer the music from the Phantom of the Opera film?"
"Oh!" she exclaimed, looking at her feet in embarrassment. "Actually, I enjoy the soundtracks from both the film and the stage versions; they're so beautiful and so powerful at the same time." She blushed right under his eyes. "I've never seen the play, but I've always wanted to hear it in an auditorium; I didn't think that anyone would mind if I played it here on the sage of the Opera House."
Suddenly, Alisa's eyes widened and she seemed to pale, as though she had just realized something important or frightening. Concerned, Erik reached out and grabbed her shoulders, supporting her in case she fainted again.
"The Opera House…the Opera Garnier…" She glanced up at him in horror. "You must be the owner of the Opera House if your last name is Garnier! I've read about you in the papers back home!"
He couldn't hold back a smile. "Yes, I am the owner, though I'm afraid I am not related to the creator or builder of the Opera House. I merely have the same last name and own the building."
It was true. Erik had thought it funny that he bore the same surname and occupation as Charles Garnier, the man who had rebuilt the Paris Opera House; it was even more amusing when he was often mistaken as the man's descendant. As much as he wished that it had been he who'd had the privilege of rebuilding and decorating the former Populaire, regretfully, that right belonged to Charles. However, after looking deeper into the Opera House's construction plans, Erik was thrilled to see that the architect had left the original foundation and secret passageways intact, though they were now mostly blocked off to prevent thieves and the homeless from taking up residence.
"Oh, I'm sorry," Alisa said, blushing. "I didn't realize…"
"Think nothing of it," Erik replied, his fingers creating a soothing rubbing motion on her shoulders. "Are you alright now? You gave me quite the fright when you fainted earlier."
Alisa turned even redder. "Well, I'm afraid that I have to apologize for that, too," she said. "I've never fainted before. It's just…your voice is so beautiful, and you sang the song so well…I sort of just got caught up in the moment of listening to you."
Inside his heart, Erik felt a swelling of pride and joy that he had never felt before. He had been proud of Don Juan, of the architecture he had produced, and of the musical of his life story that had provided entertainment for millions around the world, but this! This was an emotion that he had never truly experienced in his life! Not even with Christine had he felt this way before!
'She loves my voice and my music,' he thought as his heart leaped in his chest.
Christine had grown to fear him and everything that he had created for her. The people in the Populaire had feared him because of the power he had over them. Madame Giry had begun to fear him during the events he had put into motion during his attempts to woo Christine. Even today, people feared him because of what possibly lay behind the mask.
'But here stands a woman who stares at me in awe and wonder, a woman who faints at the power of my voice but doesn't call me an Angel, instead seeing me as a man.' Erik felt his heart swell inside him. 'This is a woman who can see me…for me.'
This was no child in a woman's body like Christine was; this was a true woman, intelligence and appreciation filling her eyes as she gazed shyly up at him from under her eyelashes. She would not turn and hide as he sang to her, she would let herself fly to wherever his music took her, savoring each and every moment of it without question. He could not let such a woman pass out of his life.
"Would you…join me for dinner this evening, my dear?" Erik felt himself asking before he could stop himself.
I could feel my jaw drop at his invitation. This amazingly handsome, talented, and possibly very wealthy, man wanted me to have dinner with him?
'I'm dreaming,' I thought to myself. 'There is no way this can be happening.'
My mother had never allowed me to go on dates in high school, claiming that boys would distract me from my studies. She had used this argument when I went to college, too, going so far as to keep me living at home and forcing me to live on a strict schedule. My mother had even memorized my classes so that I always came home on time, and had to call if I was going to be even a minute late.
'Mother would loose her mind if she knew about this,' I thought. Then again…my mother wasn't here, now, was she?
I gazed up into Erik's eyes and smiled.
"I'd love to," Alisa replied with a smile.
Inside of him, Erik felt something click into place as he helped her pick up her belongings and store them in her bag before offering his arm. "Then let us be off, shall we? I am anxious to show you a true French meal in a restaurant close by."
Alisa placed her hand through his arm and rested it on the crook of his elbow, smiling as she did so.
As the two people slipped off of the stage and exited the auditorium, a shadowy figure watched them disappear through the double doors. Frowning behind his mask, the figure pulled his hat over his eyes and vanished into the darkness with a swirl of his cloak.
AN: Oh, can you feel the creepiness? Hmm, I wonder what will happen next. Review!