AN: Yay! Another chapter! I probably shouldn't have this done, since I have a huge project due on Thursday that I have barely started… But hey, when you're inspired to write, you have to write! So this chapter is almost double the length of my normal chapters (Over 4600 words!), but the only logical breaking point in the chapter other than where I ended it didn't accomplish what needed to happen before Christine's next chapter Just a note, there's a part where song lyrics are in italics; I did that just to make it clear that Christine is singing.
So enjoy! Please review!
"Erik?" Christine's voice called out, rattling me from my thoughts.
"Angel?" She called out again, "Are you here?"
I wasn't going to answer her. She couldn't go out with the fop, and then come crawling back to me when he didn't satisfy her emotional needs; if she wanted to talk to me, she could talk to only me.
"Damn it," She mumbled to herself, groping around in the darkness that my eyes were so well-accustomed to. "You shouldn't be so selfish Christine, obviously an angel has more important things to do than listen to your petty problems."
Heavy make-up was plastered on her beautiful face, but anybody could tell how haggard her face was beneath it. Dark circles were prominent beneath her eyes, and I'm sure her eyes looked tired too, but I couldn't tell in the dark…
My resolve faltered a little. She sounded so broken and empty, not at all like her usual self. It was even more frightening than her outburst last night; last night she sounded angry, terrified and upset, but now she simply lacked emotion.
Then I saw him, his hands on her waist, her not pushing him away… My heart hardened again, and I set my jaw. She wasn't going to break the phantom that easily.
She felt her way down the hallway into the stage and finally came to a stop right in the center of it. Tears began silently trickling down her face as she looked up toward where I was sitting. The stage was the only place she could let her emotions free…
Then she opened her beautiful, pink lips and began to sing.
"Where do we go from here? This isn't where we intended to be… We had it all, you believed in me… I believed in you…" The words poured out of her like a waterfall of pure emotion, echoing throughout the entire theatre.
It was absolutely terrifying.
It wasn't just hurt, pain or fear echoing through the song, it was pure heartbreak, probably the only emotion, aside from elation and love, that I had never experienced.
It was like every word chipped away at the stone I had placed around my heart.
"Deep in my heart, I'm concealing, things that I'm long to say! Scared to confess what I'm feeling… Frightened you'll slip away; you must love me. You must love me."
I slowly made my way down to the stage entrance, entranced by her voice. Something inside my angel had snapped, and I had no idea what I was going to do about it, but I had to be close to her. I couldn't let her keep feeling this way…
"Why are you at my side? How can I be any use to you know? Give me a chance and I'll let you see how, nothing has changed!" She cried to the sky, tears still pouring down her face.
I stole into the shadows at the back of the stage, not wanting to interrupt her. I was still angry at her, and the fop, and at life, but something inside me –was it my conscience? - wouldn't let myself leave her like this.
By the time she got to the second "You must love me," she dissolved into tears and practically collapsed onto the floor, pulling her arms around her knees and sobbing.
I couldn't take it anymore.
"Christine," I took a step out of the shadows, turning on the stage lights. "I'm here."
"What happened to me Erik?" She whispered, not even turning to look at me. "Why is everything so screwed up?"
I didn't know what to say, so I walked to stand in front of her, carefully looking down at her petite frame. She clutched an old-fashioned handkerchief tightly in her fist, not even bothering to dab at the tears streaming down her face.
"Ummm," I floundered. "What happened?"
I sounded shaky as I spoke the question, unsure if it was the right thing to say. What did one say in this situation? I had certainly never had anybody ask me why life was screwed up, that is, unless I was the one doing the screwing up…
"I had a fight with Raoul," She whispered, and a flutter of joy swept through me. She had fought with the fop?! Had she finally realized that he was no good for her?! She slowly looked up to meet my eyes…
All, the joy left my system as soon as I met her gaze.
Her beautiful, green eyes were completely and utterly broken, dull and lifeless. Even more so than yesterday, every ounce of life that had once sparkled in her eyes was gone. It was as if she was barely even alive.
I was terrified.
"Over what?" I pressed softly, slightly eager to know what had happened.
"Mainly I just yelled at him," She conceded, "Over his judgemental mother, and pig brother, how he doesn't listen to me, and basically how he's a coward."
"Ummm… Do you want to tell me about it?" I asked hesitantly.
She nodded, and I took a seat next to her on the stage.
"Ummm," I started, cursing how much I had said that today. "Why don't you start from the beginning?"
She launched immediately into the story, obviously waiting for the cue. Way to go Erik! I mentally congratulated myself, You actually said the correct thing!
"Well Raoul showed up this morning and asked me to go to dinner with his parents, and I really didn't want to, so I said no." I raised an eyebrow at her, and she blushed a little. "But he just looked so upset, that I finally relented and said yes. Then he dragged me to this horrible dress shop, and the shop keeper put me in this dress that was so short it was barely legal."
The memories of Christine in that dress came flooding back, and I clutched the arm rest tightly in anger. I knew what part of the story was coming next.
"And he got all, well…" She floundered for a moment, blushing fiercely and struggling to find the words. "Well, he acted like a guy and got super close to me, and I was so uncomfortable."
"Well why didn't you push him away from you?" I couldn't help but ask angrily.
She looked at me curiously, "I did. I tried to downplay it, and jokingly told him to go sit down, but I really didn't like him looking at me that way."
I mentally cursed myself as a twisted sense of relief flooded through me. She had pushed him away; I had simply left too quickly to see it… Curse my temper!
"So what happened next?" I prodded, trying to keep her talking. Anything was better than her looking at me with those dead, empty eyes.
"I put my foot down and bought this dress," She motioned at the dress she was wearing. It really was lovely, very dramatic in an understated way. "And we went to dinner."
"At first it wasn't that bad," She said thoughtfully. "Raoul's mom was fake and superficial, but she's always been that way. However, Raoul's dad, John, was just as kind as I remembered him. He really was the only good thing about this whole evening."
"And then there was Phillip." She said with slight frustration. For a moment I could sense a little bit of her spark coming back into her voice. "And he kept making these horribly rude comments about how many girls Raoul has been with, and I kind of freaked out on him."
She stood up and walked away from me, running her hands angrily through her hair. As much as it pained me to see her angry, I was happy to see any emotion coming from her, so I decided to just let her vent, staying seated where I was.
"And then Raoul's mom started asking me how much money I made, and made a dig at how my father didn't make that much money! Can you believe it Erik? Making a comment about how much MONEY my DEAD father made?!" She whirled around, walking right by me.
"And then I ducked out right before we left to use the washroom, and Phillip was waiting for me to tell me that Raoul was waiting outside. Raoul can be so stupid! Phillip keeps making those rude comments, and he thinks 'Wow, that's the perfect person to tell my girlfriend where I am!' How moronic can you be?"
She was completely ranting now, and every word I heard made me angrier. How idiotic could the fop be?!
"And Phillip said how he was mad that I commented on his rudeness, and that he was just trying to keep me from 'falling into Raoul's bed.' And then he practically asked me to sleep with him!" She yelled.
Red tinged the edge of my vision.
It was bad enough to even begin to think about her in the bed of that fop, but for his horrendous brother to insinuate that she should sleep with him?!
"So I slapped him, and told him I wasn't going to deal with his shit…" Christine continued her story, but I wasn't listening anymore.
I was going to kill Phillip, and nothing Christine could say was going to stop me this time.
I abruptly stood up and walked purposefully toward the stage door.
"Wait!" Christine called, but her voice sounded strangely distant. "Where are you going?"
I pushed the door open and strode down the hall toward the entrance into the trap door system.
"Erik!" She yelled and I heard her footsteps behind me, but it sounded as if I was listening to the world through some kind of filter. Red completely clouded my vision, and I was intently focussed on reaching that door…
And finding the Punjab…
And putting it around Phillip's neck…
Something tapped my shoulder, and I whipped around and grabbed whatever it was.
I stared angrily into the eyes of a terrified Christine as I clutched her wrist tightly in my fist.
"Erik," She whimpered. "W-what are you doing?"
"Going to put an end to that bastard's disgusting comments about you." I sneered as she tentatively tried to pull her wrist away.
"It really wasn't that bad…" She started shakily.
"And stay away from your precious Raoul." I jerked her closer to me, leaning close to her and gazing into her terrified eyes. "He has been nothing but trouble for you, and still you crawl back to him! How can you be so stupid Christine? If you had any self-respect you'd leave him!"
"Erik," She whispered, terror seeping through her voice and tears trickling down her pale face. "You're hurting me!"
"Get out." I growled, pushing her away from me and releasing her wrist.
She looked at me for a single moment, absolute horror and terror contorting her entire face, then fled frantically to the stage door and sprinted into the night.
The sound of the door closing echoed through my entire brain violently snapping me back to reality. I stumbled to the door of my passage and quickly entered it, bracing myself on the wall so I didn't fall over.
Christine's words echoed in my mind.
"Erik," She had cried, "You're hurting me!"
And what I had I done? Threw her away from me and told her to get out!
What kind of lunatic was I? I had literally taken the only person I'd ever cared about and hurt her. All because I went into a murderous haze in order to protect her.
I tore my mask off and fell to the floor, clawing at my face.
"WHY AM I SUCH A MONSTER?!" I yelled as loud as I possibly could, clutching the deformed side of my face.
I fell to the ground, my legs unable to hold me up anymore. Without another thought I curled up into the fetal position and wept, crying until sleep had the mercy to take me.
Exactly a week passed with absolutely no contact from Christine. At this point she was finally able to start dancing with the rest of the girls, but she didn't come to me for our lessons, or otherwise seek me out.
On the plus side, the fop wasn't around either.
Christine started to look worse throughout the week; her eyes had dark circles underneath them, making it obvious she hadn't been sleeping, and her eyes still had a dullness to them that didn't go away. It broke my already mangled heart to see her like this, and know that I was the partial cause.
I had followed her home every day since that night, but aside from one visit to Mama Valerius, she didn't go anywhere; not out with Meg, not out with the fop, not out with any of the chorus girls… She just sat in her room by herself.
Meg was actually being a fantastic friend, earning my respect. She tried to coax Christine into talking to her or going out, and when she wouldn't she patiently sat with her at home, making sure she was eating and trying to entertain her.
I wanted to be the one looking after her.
Huh, my mind sneered at me. If you hadn't hurt her, she might not need to be looked after.
I clutched my skull tightly. I couldn't take the self-abuse right now… I needed to be focussed.
Carlotta was prancing around the stage like a fat pony, singing her frog-like rendition of Think of Me. I crept along the catwalk to the mechanism I had installed on the back drop, and pulled the cord, running to my viewing area.
It worked beautifully, which wasn't a real surprise since I had made it. Just as Carlotta was about to butcher the fifth line of the aria, the backdrop came crashing down about two feet behind her, causing her to fall over in terror.
She screamed shrilly, and Piangi waddled to her side, helping the fat cow to her feet.
"It's the phantom of the opera!" I heard one of the ballet girls exclaim as the entire stage broke out into frightened whispers.
"Did you see anybody?!"
"It could have killed her!"
"Well at least it only came close to Carlotta…"
"It must be the phantom! I've been saying that he was going to kill someone soon!"
"Quiet!" Mr. Andre ran onto the stage, Mr. Firmin trailing behind him. "Where is Joseph Buquet?! He must be responsible for this!"
"Buquet!" Mr. Firmin yelled after him.
Buquet slowly came in through the stage door, and Christine noticeably cringed as he walked through the door. Anger welled in me, but I quickly suppressed it; if this plan was going to work, I wanted to be alert.
"Buquet!" Mr. Andre yelled. "What is the reason for this?!"
"Hey, don't look at me!" He defended, putting his hands out in front of him. "I was downstairs putting something into storage… I haven't been up on the catwalk for hours!"
"See… It's the phantom!" A ballet girl agued loudly. Carlotta gave a little scream, along with some of the other dim-witted girls. I was pleased to see Christine rolling her eyes at them.
"Please quiet down ladies!" Mr. Firmin yelled.
"These things do happen."Mr. Andre consoled, but was instantly cut off by Carlotta.
"These things do happen?!" She screeched, storming toward the poor man. "I could have been KILLED and all you say is 'These things do happen'?!"
"I'm sorry Carlotta…"
"Well," She poked a finger into his chest. "Until you stop these 'Things' from happening, I am finished! Piangi!"
Carlotta fled the stage, crying as she did so, with Piangi following closely at her heels. I had to give it to that woman, she certainly did know how to make a dramatic exit.
Everybody looked at Andre and Firmin expectantly, while the two of them looked at each other.
"Carlotta will be back." Andre assured the still-frantic crowd.
"You think so?" Madam Giry stepped out from the shadows, causing me to smile. That woman could be almost as ominous as me when she wanted to. "I have a letter from the opera ghost for you."
"Oh do you now?" Firmin mocked, trying to grab the letter, but Madame Giry deftly moved it out of his reach.
I smiled as she folded up the letter and put it in her pocket. "He merely reminds you to leave box five empty for his use, and points out that his salary is due."
"Well you can tell the phantom," Firmin spat. "That it has been a slow month for the opera, so will have his salary to him as soon as possible!"
"Anyways," Andre turned to the stage director, patting Firmin on the shoulder. "Who is the understudy for Carlotta's role? We can't cancel our opening performance… We are sold out!"
"There is no understudy!" The director yelled, "Carlotta said nobody could fill her role and threatened to quit if we hired one."
"Damn…" Firmin mumbled as he and Andre began talking to each other.
Nows your chance Christine… I willed her to speak up. The whole plan would be for nothing if she didn't say anything.
Meg Giry moved from the corner of the stage, walking up to Andre and tapping him on the shoulder. "Christine Daae could sing it sir! She's been taking lessons from a great teacher!"
"And who is that?" Firmin motioned Christine over him.
"Ummm," Christine floundered, trying to formulate an answer.
"Let her sing," Madame Giry cut in, "She has been well taught."
"From the beginning of the aria then!" Andre yelled.
"Meg!" Christine whispered harshly as Meg passed her the scarf needed for the scene.
"You'll do great!" She smiled, and took her place with the other girls.
Christine's eyes darted around at everybody looking at her as the piano began playing. When it came her time to sing, a timid voice escaped her lips.
"Come on Christine…" I growled. We had come too far for her to crack now.
"I told you she couldn't do it!" One of the ballet girls whispered loudly.
Christine obviously heard the comment, and got the steely look in her eyes that she always got when trying to prove herself. She stood up taller and let her voice echo out in a spectacular display of vocal power…
"If you ever find a moment, spare a thought for me!"
Needless to say, her performance was fantastic.
Christine had more grace, beauty and passion on stage in her finger than Carlotta did in her whole body. She truly brought the music to life… It was the most glorious thing I had ever seen onstage.
After the performance I quickly went to her dressing room to congratulate her and make amends for my horrid behaviour the week before. Seeing her on stage had made me realize one thing; I needed Christine, and I was going to do whatever it took to earn her forgiveness.
However, when I got there, the fop was already standing inside the doorway.
"Please Christine," He begged, "Let me take you to dinner."
"Raoul," She sighed, "I already told you I don't want to go!"
"I'm so sorry for everything with Phillip and my mom, and for everything I put you through… I promise I'll try to listen to you better next time!" He babbled.
"I don't want to go out." She repeated harshly.
"I'm sorry…" He pleaded.
"Raoul," Christine began to cut him off, but he completely misinterpreted the tone of her voice.
"I'll just go tell my parents that they don't need to wait for me." He grinned and walked quickly out the door.
"Insolent boy," I muttered, walking through the mirror and into her dressing room.
"Erik?" She questioned timidly, slowly turning around to meet my eyes. Fear was laced through her gaze, and her voice. It was like a knife in my heart.
"Bravo," I said, handing her a single red rose with a black ribbon tied around the stem.
"You came?" She asked quietly.
"Of course." I stated, and we stood in silence for a moment. She regarded me hesitantly, and I saw her fingers begin to trace the dark bruising on her wrist.
"About last week," I started, not failing to meet her gaze. "I am truly sorry for my actions… Hearing about Phillip saying those things about you… And then I… And I wanted to… Well, I lost my mind."
She looked at me expectantly, crossing her arms across her chest.
"Christine," I begged. "Hurting you is the single, most regrettable thing I have ever done in my life."
"I needed you Erik," She said softly.
"I am so sorry." I desperately put my hands out in front of me, trying to convey how much I needed her forgiveness. When she didn't answer, I turned around and made my way back to the passage way. Just as I was about to touch the trigger to open the door, I felt a feather-light touch on my shoulder.
I slowly turned around to see Christine smiling softly at me, her hand resting on my shoulder.
"I forgive you Erik." She spoke quietly.
I smiled her a little bit. "Thank you my dear."
"I'm just so happy!" She exclaimed, smiling and practically jumping over to her make-up table. "That was the most wonderful feeling I've ever had! Being on stage, having all those people clap for me…"
My heart swelled at the sight of her joy… It was a wonderful upgrade from how she had felt last week.
She began pulling pins out of her glorious hair, and wiping the heavy stage make-up off her face.
"Where did I put my make-up remover?" She muttered, shifting through her things. In the process of sifting through the stuff on the make-up table, she knocked her bag over, papers and other stuff spilling out of it .On piece of paper floated toward me, landing at my feet. It was something handwritten in lovely cursive.
I picked it up and glanced at its contents. I was shocked to see what the title read:
The Phantom of the Opera
"What's this?" I asked, curiosity getting the better of me.
"Oh!" She blushed furiously, rushing over and taking the paper from my outstretched hands. "That's nothing… Just… Nothing."
"You wrote a song about the phantom?" I asked in shock.
"Erik," She laughed sarcastically. "I know you're the phantom."
"How long have you known?" I questioned, shocked that she had figured it out so quickly.
"Since our second lesson." She smiled. "I'm pretty observant."
"So why write a song about me?"
She stuffed it into the pile of papers. "I write song lyrics when I need to deal with emotions."
"You compose?" I questioned with surprise, taking the paper back out of the pile.
"Not really." I blushed, "I can never write the music… Just the lyrics."
"I would very much like to hear the phantom song."
"I would not at all like to sing it."
"Please Christine?" I asked. "I'm sure it's wonderful."
"I don't even have a tune for it." She exclaimed in protest.
I walked over to the warm-up piano in the corner of the room, taking her lyric sheet with me. "Just try…" I coaxed, slightly desperate to hear the song that was so obviously about me.
"It's personal." She protested weakly.
"Music is meant to be shared!"
"Not when it's just your feelings in lyrical form!"
"That's the most glorious kind of music!"
"You can't really talk about sharing your feelings." She retorted, putting her hands on her hips.
"Please Christine… I would be the last person on this planet to judge your feelings." I tried in a last ditch effort.
"Fine!" She finally exclaimed. "But it's not very good, and I think you'll be disappointed…"
"Sing…" I whispered, beginning to play a simplistic, yet powerful tune on the piano… It was my feelings being added to her song.
She closed her eyes as she felt the music, not even needing to grab her lyric sheet. Beautiful notes began to stream out of her mouth.
"In sleep he sang to me, in dreams he came.
That voice which calls to me, and speaks my name.
And who I dream again, for now I find…
The phantom of the opera is there inside my mind."
It was more beautiful than I ever could have imagined. Without any rational thoughts in my mind, I stood up from the piano, taking her hand and leading her through the mirror passageway. She followed me without hesitation, she was so lost in the music. Music overtaking and logical thought process, I joined her song.
"Sing once again with me, our strange duet.
My power over you, grows stronger yet.
And though you turn from me, to glance behind…"
I carefully cupped her chin, turning her face to look forward as she stopped and hesitated, starting to look scared. Her eyes held hesitation and slight fear, but as soon as our gazes met all those fears vanished, replaced by a strong curiosity and love for music. She continued to follow me into the labyrinth.
"The phantom of the opera is there, inside your mind!"
Our voices came together in the most beautiful harmony I had ever experienced, topping even Christine's soulful performance of her parent's wedding song. Just as we began to sing together, we approached the boat on the underground lake. I helped her in without either of us breaking a note.
"Your spirit and your voice, in one combined! The phantom of the opera is there, inside your mind!"
I tied the boat to the small wooden dock and turned to help Christine out of the boat, only to find she was already behind me. She followed me to the rocky front of my home, completely entranced by song.
"Sing," I whispered passionately with a wave of my arm, trying to draw her voice out of her. She let loose a glorious note, but it didn't even begin to challenge her range.
"Sing!" I exclaimed again, a little louder. She pushed her voice a little bit higher, but I wanted more.
"SING!" I yelled with so much passion that she eagerly complied… Pushing her voice to the upper limits of what she had practiced. It wasn't enough. I knew she could do better.
"SING MY ANGEL OF MUSIC!" I proclaimed, waving my arm to try to coax her voice out of her. She looked shocked as she let out a beautiful note higher than any she had ever sung.
"SING FOR ME!" I cried as a final effort to break her voice free of her control.
It was the most dazzling reward I had ever received.
Out of her throat came the highest note I had ever heard a person sing before. Never had I heard it with such strength and purity before! For the first time in years, I actually found myself grinning in pleasure.
She grasped her throat, surprise evident on her face as she panted for breath. In a moment her knees gave out, but I was right behind her, scooping her up into my arms.
"That was beautiful my dear," I smiled down into her beautiful face as I carried her through the door of my home.
Something blossomed in my chest as I carried Christine Daae through the door into my house; something I don't think I had ever truly felt before. The wonder of her voice, feeling of her small body in my arms, and joy plain on her face all led to one thing.
For me, it was the most magnificent thing I had ever experienced.
Love.