-1Disclaimer: I do not own Phantom of the Opera. The plot and other characters are mine.
Note: Thanks for the reviews.
This is written in Erik's perspective.
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I pace a hidden area of the catwalks above the stage, shaking my head in anger.
The Prima Donna, a woman so similar to La Carlotta that it is sickening, is ruining the song. It is not meant to be sung like that, it is supposed be a sad, tragic song, and she sings it as if she were on parade. There is nothing wrong with her voice; it is her lack of passion, her lack of feeling for the songs.
I am thinking seriously of dropping one of the props down, not to seriously injury her, but as a warning. The Phantom's orders must be obeyed. Always.
I can only bear to watch for a few more moments, before turning away in disgust.
Fools that is what they all are. Especially those two, I glare down at the bumbling mangers, Andre and Firmin.
After the fire and all the rumors of the Ghost that haunts the Opera house, those two fools couldn't give the Opera Populaire away.
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I head back down to my lair to think. I have noticed today that Darcy has been assigned guardian of a young girl.
Of course that may interfere with our correspondence, but I shall find away to continue them. I must.
I cannot believe how such a simple thing as writing letters to someone could have such an effect on me. I can barely concentrate, for my thoughts are always on her, wondering what she is doing or thinking.
When I first helped her, only out of pity, I had not expected things to go this far.
If I had known, perhaps I would have not gotten involved.
No, I am glad things have taken its course. Now life, once again, holds interest for me. I no longer simply exist, I live.
As I walk though a passageway that leads past Darcy and the little girl's new room, something stops me. Someone is singing.
I stop to listen to the intriguing voice. It is so perfect and clear, in both pitch and tone.
It must be the girl singing. What was her name? Anna?
I lean closer too the wall, closing my eyes as the sweet voice takes over my senses.
Her voice is not exactly like Christine's.
The girl feels so much enthusiasm and love for music. While Christine merely liked music, it was not her life. Christine was able to walk away from everything, her career, her singing, without even a glance backward. At least that is my opinion.
Music has always been my weakness, my passion, my love. It has helped me over come my pain and fill the darkness in my life.
After Christine left, after her betrayal, I could not stand the sight of my Organ or of the many songs I composed for her, putting my heart and soul in them.
I clench my fist, trying to calm my emotions.
It was not until the Opera Populaire had been rebuilt that I could once again indulge myself in my music.
The girl stops and I can hear Darcy applauding loudly. I have the urge to do the same, though that would not be very wise.
That is how singing should be done, one should feel it burning like fire through their veins.
I shall have to think of something for the girl, maybe I can work out something with Madame Giry.
I continue my way down, until I reach the Gondola. I step in and swiftly row myself to the entrance of my lair. The gates life automatically as I row towards it.
The entrance has remained unchanged after the fire. I have though added more traps, blocked off passages ways, and opened new ones. Even though it is not likely that those fools will ever come down here, I cannot take that chance.
I step onto the stone that leads up from the water.
For some reason I have not been able to breakaway from the Opera House, even though I own several estates throughout France.
Perhaps it is because I am reluctant to leave what, for so long, as been my home.
My thoughts once again turn to Darcy. She has been a bit pestering in her letters, constantly asking me to reveal myself.
However, that can never been done. I shall always remain Monsieur E to Darcy, while at the same time being the Phantom. She must never know that the two are actually one.
Darcy must never see my face; I would nor be able to endure the look of fear that will show on her face, in her eyes.
Christine had looked at me like that, when she discovered that I had deceived her, when she found out that I was not her Angel, just a man, a monster.
Christine was everything I had wanted to be. Innocent, young, beautiful, free.
For that reason and her voice, I had been drawn to her. I became possessive.
When that fop entered into back into her life, when I saw that she was in danger of giving into him, I made my move.
It was of course impulsive. I had to act then, to reveal myself. I was not thinking clearly, too blinded by jealously to see that such a move would destroy everything.
After that, she began to fear me.
I can remember, there on the rooftop, when she told Raoul about me and the darkness I thrived in. That I had trapped her possessed her.
Raoul took her in his arms and promised to protect her, from me, a monster.
I fall to my knees,burying my face in my hands, unable to stop the flow of tears.
All I had ever wanted was for Christine to be happy. I would never have harmed her. Never.
I force my self to calm down. I promised myself that I would not allow the past to haunt so, I would let go and start anew.
The past cannot be changed. I had let her go, willingly.
Iwalk to my writing desk and take out some paper. Nothing would stop me from writing to Darcy. We both needed this, it would help me heal and perhaps give her some comfort in knowing that she was not alone.
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My first Erik perspective. Let me know what you think. Should I keep his perspective in my story or just leave it to Darcy? I am trying to portray what I think he would be feeling about everything. Yes, it is rather short, but I am only trying this out, to see if it will work.
Don't forget to review.
Love to all my reviewers.