ACT II- The Phantom
To say her first few days at school were interesting would be an understatement. The first day was easy enough; music theory mostly consisted of the usual introductions and review of class procedures, and her first voice lesson wasn't much different. The same couldn't be said of the second day, which happened to be the one she was looking forward to the most.
Professor Delauney, who was to be her piano instructor, was the most celebrated teacher at Aldridge. Her mastery of the piano was positively legendary. As such, she handpicked her students carefully, and refused to accept more than three pupils at a time. Christine was one of the lucky ones to benefit from her instruction. She was majoring in piano, so it would take up most of her school hours.
When Christine entered the classroom she was to be taking her lessons in on Tuesday at 9 am sharp, she was surprised to find herself in a relatively large room with scuffed hardwood floors and wall-sized mirrors lining almost every wall. Silk curtains heavy with dust and age hung from the windows, tied to the side to allow the early morning sun in. The lights were turned off, the room lit up by the light streaming in through the windows. She figured it was at one point one of the school's dance studios before the big renovation, and was now used as a classroom. Two pianos were set up by the windows across from the door, and Christine saw Professor Delauney perched on one of the piano benches. She rose as Christine approached.
She was a tall, thin woman in her forties. Her hair was pulled back from her smooth, ageless face with a simple clip and her lips were turned up in a small smile as she surveyed her new pupil.
Extending her hand, Christine managed a, "Nice to meet you, my name is Chr-" before being shocked into silence as, instead of returning the handshake, Delauney took her by the wrist and proceeded to inspect her hand.
"Not really the hands of a pianist; a bit on the small side..." She was saying, turning her hand this way and that. "Nice and flexible, though."
It was a bit eccentric of her, but such is an artist's temperament, Christine figured. She tried her very hardest to keep a strait face through this, and barely managed to succeed.
"I apologize, you may have your hand back." Delauney said before gesturing towards the pianos. "Choose one and play something."
"What would you like me to play?" Christine inquired nervously. She was terrified of being a disappointment. Though it may be hard to believe while looking at her, Professor Delauney had a reputation for being a hardass, especially on her new pupils. She only accepted the best, and anyone who failed in her eyes were dropped from her instruction immediately.
"Whatever comes to mind."
"...Okay." Christine made her way to the closest piano and, willing her hands to stop shaking, positioned them above the white and black keys. "I guess I'll play Schubert, then."
"Straiten your back!" Delauney barked before Christine could so much as hit the first notes. "You can't very well play all hunched over like that."
Christine obliged, and forcing her nervousness from her mind, began to play. Her piece of choice was Schubert's Piano Sonata in A Minor, Op. 42. It wasn't the most challenging of pieces, but the dynamics were tricky and the various changes throughout made it difficult to play it correctly. She received enough compliments on her performance of it in the past to play it with confidence. Confidence which she needed at that moment but found herself losing with every criticism thrown at her by her instructor. Christine found that all it took was messing up once before her nerves caused her to waver, resulting in even more mistakes.
"You aren't playing loudly enough there, restart it from that measure." Delauney was saying. "One too many notes at that part. Stop adding notes, because changing the composition would never be allowed in a competition. Now you are playing too softly again."
She had barely made it to the end of the first movement when she was ordered to stop. There was a brief silence, broken only by the soft humming of the ceiling fan. Delauney sighed in barely masked disappointment and began to rummage through a filing cabinet.
"Generally when a new student of mine gives such a performance, I send them home." she said, flipping through and marking what seemed to be a book of sheet music. Christine's stomach flipped at this, and she bit her lip to keep it from trembling. She willed herself not to cry. "The notes were almost completely right, and you seem to have an excellent memory... but your performance was sloppy and flat, and you lack passion while playing. You don't seem to handle criticism well either."
Christine took all of this in, and nodded. She always thought she did well at the piano, and was very gifted at playing by ear. She could play almost anything she hears with just a few tries, and while she struggled to follow a score, she knew she had improved greatly in that department since she first began. She began to question all the kind words and indulgent smiles of people who continually praised her over the years.
"You're better than this, Miss Daae." Delauney eventually said. "I know, because I listened to your application disc. You have talent, but you can't let your nerves affect your performance like that. You need to master your emotions and learn to play under pressure and channel those emotions in such a way as to convey the mood of the piece."
"I'm so sorry, Professor-"
"I don't want an apology." she replied with a smile. "Only improvement. I'm going to cut today's lesson short, and cancel your lessons with me until Friday. I marked all your mistakes. Work on it, and prove to me that you deserve to be here." She held out the now marked up Schubert score, and Christine accepted it with a nod. "Don't disappoint me, darling. See you Friday."
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That night was the first time she heard it.
Not wanting to disturb Meg and knowing said girl had homework of her own, Christine decided to return to the classroom that night with the intent of practicing. It was half past ten, well after school hours, so she expected to be the only one left in the music building.
She was quite surprised upon entering the unlocked side doors to hear a beautiful, haunting piano melody echoing through the hallway. The slow, mournful tune drew her in, intriguing her. She didn't recognize it, and couldn't immediately figure out where it was coming from.
Christine wandered the halls for a while, determined to find its originator, and was close to giving up when she realized it was coming from the very room she originally intended to use. No sooner had she peered into the little window on the door, however, then the music abruptly stopped. Blinking in surprise, she opened the door in haste and flicked on the light switch, flooding the previously pitch black room with light.
It was empty.
"That's strange..." she mused aloud. Perhaps she had the wrong room? No, she was positive the music was coming from there. A shiver ran down her spine and she slowly backed away from the room as the possibility of ghosts hit her. The school was over ninety years old, and a the theatre on campus predated even that. Ghosts were certainly a possibility, though she never believed in that sort of thing.
Decided she wasn't going to start believing now, she reasoned the music easily could have been coming from the room upstairs. She figured she was just being silly and wasting what little time she had to practice. All the same, her neck prickled as if someone's eyes were on her, watching her every move as she eased the door shut behind her and timidly approached the two pianos.
She gave the room one last sweeping look and, once satisfied she was completely alone, began to play. She studied the sheet music intently, trying her hardest to remember all the subtle changes in dynamics of the piece.
A couple hours later, she all but jumped when she glanced at her watched and read 12:45. She had less than fifteen minutes to get back to the dorm or suffer Mr. Brewer's wrath. Gathering her stuff together, she raced for the door and, glancing around one last time, cast the room into darkness with the flip of a switch.
The next few days passed in much the same way. She would arrive late at night after her classes and workshift were over, and she would hear that beautiful echoing piano music every time. It became a mission for her, trying to catch the musician behind it. Try as she might, however, it would always fade into silence by the time she made it to the piano room. The tune was always beautiful but melancholy, and Christine's breath would often catch in her throat at the sheer despair of it.
Even as she herself sat at the piano, trying to focus on improving her Schubert, her mind was on the mysterious music from before. It was all she could think about, and she often found herself gradually slipping away from the score and playing the very melody that plagued her mind.
Through all of this, Christine couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching her, but there was never any other indication of someone being in the room.
Late Thursday night as she prepared to go home for the night, grumbling to herself about the night being unproductive, she could have sworn she heard a whisper that sounded unnervingly like her name. Suspicious green eyes scanned the room, but she saw nothing out of the ordinary. Dismissing it as nothing more than exhaustion, she reached for her music sheets and froze in alarm.
There, resting daintily on the ivory keys of the piano, was a single red rose. Lifting it with quivering hands, she noticed that a black ribbon had been tied carefully around it in a meticulous bow. She knew for a fact the rose hadn't been there minutes before.
No one was in the room.
Dropping the ominous flower in fright, she promptly gathered her belongings and dashed out the door, resolving never to enter the room after hours again.
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"Are you okay, Christine?" Meg asked the next night, making Christine nearly drop her tea in alarm.
They were both curled up on the couch, half-watching the obscenely colorful game show on tv. It was a silly occupation of her time, but the colors were bright enough and the smiles were contagious enough to help drive the darkness of the previous week from Christine's mind. She focused on the big smiles and uncertain faces of the contestants, all to avoid the demanding and concerned stare of her couch-companion.
"I'm fine..." She said. "Just a long day."
"Did that test thing go okay with your professor?"
"As well as can be expected, I guess." Christine said with a sigh. "She said my overall technique has improved, but that it still lacks passion, whatever that means. She's willing to keep me on as a student, at least..."
Meg moved to place a reassuring hand on Christine's shoulder, causing her to jump in alarm. The blonde frowned. "You've been acting strange today, like you've seen a ghost. Have a run-in with 'The Phantom' or something?" Meg joked.
Christine rose an eyebrow. "The- what?"
Meg laughed. "Just some silly ghost story my mom told me about that's been circulating the school the past several years. Apparently there's been some strange happenings around the campus, such as things going missing, instruments being played and singing heard from seemingly empty rooms, and a masked man appearing and disappearing in the blink of an eye. The students call him 'The Phantom', and everytime something goes wrong or someone dies in the area, he's gets the blame. Silly, really."
Christine pondered this, considering everthing from the ominous piano music echoing through the halls of the music building to the sudden appearance of the rose on the piano. No way...
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Author's note:
End of Chapter two~ Hope you liked. Bet you can't guess who makes an appearance next~ I'll include links to the music used at the end of every chapter for those who are curious.
Music from the chapter
Schubert Piano Sonata in A minor, OP. 42: youtube(dot)com/watch?v=b-1j7QxZ6Fc&feature=related (This lady played it really well)
TEASER FOR CHAPTER 3
"Are you insane?" She inquired incredulously. She tried to sound upset, but her voice was tainted with amusement.
"No," he replied, smiling sweetly. "I'm just cold... and tired. I've been walking around all day."
"Completely insane," Christine mumbled to herself, staring down at the fiend on her lap. "Alright, alright... could you please just... feel me up through my clothes instead? You're freezing!"