Hello and welcome! This is my very first fanfic, so be nice, okay? Before I start, or you start, I would like to say, first, I don't own anything you recognize. Second, for all you phans out there, this fic is for Erik. But drum roll I am not a phan, so there will be no Phantom coddling here. I can make him miserable before I make him happy, and I intend to do just that.
If you are a phan, and you do not coddle Erik, then my deepest apologizes to you for the previous two sentences.
Let's begin the story now, shall we?
Dear Diary,
Today, Papa and I met the strangest woman. Neither of us had any idea who she was, and, in all honesty, we still do not. But I think that we will have to know a little about her eventually, because Papa has decided to hire her as a singer. I don't know why; she is very good, but she's also very depressing. Just mopes around all the time; barely talks. Her name is Amy Eldwin, or something like that. She has a funny accent, so sometimes it's rather hard to understand her.
And, quite frankly, I'm amazed she said anything at all in the first place.
She brought with her a tiny, adorable, but completely stupid black kitten she calls Starlight, and a black horse she calls Fate. The only non-living things she brought are a black dress, a pair of black shoes, a black pair of pants, and a white shirt.
I know, I was shocked that the shirt is white as well.
Nothing more to say today. I'll write again tomorrow.
Dear Diary,
I hate that new girl! I absolutely hate her and I wish she would go straight to hell! Why, you ask? Well, here's what happened:
It had been a long day, yesterday. We were on our way to Paris, as Papa said, to "show off" the new girl. When we finally found a place to rest, at 1:00 in the morning, mind you, I obviously fell asleep instantly.
When I woke up, it was 3 in the morning! The stupid new girl was still asleep, but screaming her bloody lungs off! I never would have thought someone so quiet could get so loud! I couldn't understand what the hell she was saying, not that I wanted to anyways. It was in a different language, which might explain why she has such a funny accent: because she's not French.
I bet she's American. They're suppose to be extremely inconsiderate of other people's feelings.
Anyways, she would not shut up, so I had to go and slap her. She woke up with a start and looked around with her eyes wide. Tears were running down her face, like she was the one who had gotten woke up by a raving idiot.
The worst part is that Papa said she still has to stay with us because of her oh-so amazing singing abilities until we get to Paris. Then maybe someone will buy her and take her off our hands. Then I can forget all about her.
Dear Diary,
I never thought I'd say this, but I'm almost glad the new girl came our way! Almost, mind you, almost. She still woke me up early this morning with her screaming. But last night, we had her sing for some big shot guys, and they loved her! They'll give us tons of money if we'll let her sing for one night!
Guess what makes this even better?
The new girl is really stupid. All she wants is us to feed her and give her a place to stay! Papa and I get to keep the rest of the money!
I don't think Papa is planning on giving her a lot of food, or a really wonderful place to stay. It's not as if she was specific in her demands. And that will mean even more money for us!
Maybe we won't sell her to someone else. Then she'll make us rich rich rich!
It was early one Wednesday morning. The Phantom of the Opera, a.k.a. The Opera Ghost, a.k.a. Erik, was leaning against a pillar in the opera house, lazily watching the two managers, Richard Firmin and Gilles Andre, come into the theatre. Firmin was holding a newspaper, looking completely horrified.
"What's the matter, Firmin?" Andre asked curiously.
"Here!" Firmin cried, shoving the paper into Andre's hands. "Read that!"
Andre read "that" and then looked up, still looking confused. "I still don't understand. What's the problem?"
"What's the problem? My dear Andre, did you really read what the paper says about that girl? Amy Eldwin? And she's coming to perform here in Paris in only two nights! That's the same night our new opera will open! And she'll take all our audience!"
Erik snorted quietly. Perhaps it was purely pride, but he seriously doubted any lone girl could take away all the audience for the opening night of the new opera. After all, he wrote it.
"Oh, come, come, now," Andre said impatiently. "Just because a girl is a fabulous singer, has been given phenomenal reviews, and happens to be performing the same night our new opera comes out, it doesn't mean we'll lose our audience!" He paused a moment. "Alright, it does look bad. I'll grant you that, but really, Firmin! Try to have a little optimism!"
"I am too optimistic! But I also am realistic! And this girl spells nothing but trouble for us!"
Erik's attention to the managers was diverted by the appearance of a beautiful young woman. He couldn't suppress a small sigh of longing as Christine de Chagny went over to talk to one of her best friends, Meg Giry. He had never fully recovered from his obsessive love for her.
Christine and her husband, Raoul, had been married for several years now, and since that time she had stopped working at the opera house. However, she still visited once in a while, so she could talk with Meg, who practically lived there.
Obviously, not literally, like Erik, but still…
Erik had once dreamt that Christine would come to her senses, and realize how much she really loved him, but after she and Raoul had their fifth child, he finally gave it up as a hopeless cause.
However, that didn't prevent him from wishing and wondering…
He crept closer so he could hear what Christine and Meg were talking about. Actually, just Christine; he might have thought Meg was a good dancer, but that didn't mean he cared what she said.
"Have you heard about this girl, Amy Eldwin?" Meg was asking.
"I read about her just this morning," Christine replied. "She sounds like a very talented woman."
"She'll be performing in Paris the same night we will. Mother is worried that some people will go see her instead of us."
"I don't think it'll be that bad!" Christine laughed. "After all, aren't all the seats already sold out?"
"Quite a lot of people of selling them back," Meg replied seriously. "And no one's buying those ones."
At that point, Erik had had enough. No matter how much he loved hearing Christine's voice, that didn't mean he wanted to listen any more about some girl who might take people away from his opera. Not that he thought that would happen, of course, but other people clearly did.
He opened a hidden door, slipped through, and started carefully making his way back to his "home". The booby traps he had placed throughout the labyrinth could be inconvenient, but that was a small price to pay for his privacy.
When he finally crossed the lake, he stepped out of the boat and sighed, thinking hard about what to do about that girl everyone seemed so interested in.
"Problems, bossman?"
Perhaps he wasn't really as alone as people thought.
Grinding his teeth together, Erik turned back to the lake to glare dangerously.
The small siren bobbed unconcerned up and down. Most men might have found her attractive, but to Erik, she was just a pain with some small uses.
"How many times to I have to tell you not to call me that?" He snapped in mermish—that was the only language she understood.
She shrugged her tiny, pale green shoulders and pushed her long, dark green hair away from her pale green face. "Does it matter? I'm not going to change what I've called you for years, you know."
Erik had allowed her to stay in his lake on the sole condition that she would tell him if there were any intruders. If he wasn't available, she would simply drown them. However, the gift of life wasn't really enough for Laetitia. She frequently invited her friends over, and there was nothing Erik could do about it. Now, normally, he really won't care, but the last time, they had all gotten drunk, and if twenty-plus drunk mer-people wasn't frightening enough, they also nearly flooded the opera house. It had been a very close call.
"And," Laetitia continued. "You still haven't answered my question. What's going on?"
"Nothing," He sighed again. "Everyone's just thinking some strange girl is…well…"
"Going to do better than your new opera?" Laetitia asked. She did a flip, waving her pale green tail in the air. "If I were you, I won't worry about it. It's not as if there's much you can do, short of killing her. Something of which I would not advise."
Erik snorted. "Why not?"
"Just because your morals are twisted, doesn't mean the rest of ours are."
"My morals aren't that twisted." He denied.
The mermaid rose one thin, dark green eyebrow, but said nothing. Instead, she sank back down under the water.
Erik sat down on the chair by his desk and rubbed the left side of his face—the side not covered by his mask. Perhaps Laetitia was right, for once. Besides killing the girl, Amy Eldwin, or whatever Firmin and Meg said her name was, there wasn't much he could do right then. Anyways, all those wonderful reviews about her were undoubtedly exaggerated. There was absolutely no reason to worry. None whatsoever.
"Hey, bossman!" Laetitia had resurfaced. "When you're done admiring your reflection, maybe you could spare a moment to answer a question or two."
While it was true Erik had been gazing absentmindedly at a mirror, that did not mean he was "admiring his reflection." He never admired his reflection. "Of all the mer-people in the world, why did I have to get stuck with you?"
"Luck, I suppose. Now, can I ask you my questions?"
Erik tapped his lasso, which was laying on his desk. He imagined it hanging around Laetitia's neck. "Can I stop you?"
"No, actually. Now, the first question is: why do seem to be so worried about this new girl in the first place?"
"Because she's all I've been hearing about all day. Her and her 'amazing singing talent'. Maybe I'll kill her just so people will stop talking about her."
"That won't work—a murder will make them talk even more. Now, second question: do you really think she's so good? I mean, if people are making such a fuss, there has to be some basis for it."
"Only Christine is that good."
Laetitia sighed. "Christine is married, has five children, and is expecting her sixth. Don't you think…"
"She's WHAT?"
Erik could feel Laetitia's glare on the back of his neck. "Let me finish! Don't you think this obsessiveness is just a bit creepy?"
"No, I don't!"
"'Course not," Laetitia muttered.
"Now, can we get back to the important part? How do you know Christine is pregnant?"
"That's the important part?" Laetitia demanded. "I think you need to get your priorities straight!"
"Just answer the damn question."
"I heard it through the grapevine."
Erik finally turned around. "Laetitia, you'd better give me a better answer than that."
The mermaid's bright emerald eyes stared defiantly into the human's dark brown ones. "I just heard it, alright? Can't you be happy with that?"
"No. Amazingly enough, I can't."
"May I make a point here?" She asked. Without waiting for an answer, she continued. "Christine is very clearly happily married. Her sixth pregnancy is evidence enough of that. Don't you think you should leave her alone?"
"She'd be happier with me!"
"I think Christine can judge for herself what makes her happiest. Now, then, to change subject, have you been practicing later?"
Only eleven months after the, as Laetitia called it, Christine Incident, Erik came to the startling realization that he was, actually, able to use magic. It was very helpful—he mainly could turn invisible, appear and reappear at will, move objects without touching them, and break into other people's minds. The last one he used most frequently, especially with Carlotta, the prima donna at the opera house. Not because he liked hearing what she was thinking, but while he was in people's minds, he could also talk to them, and that, coupled with what he said, always scared her, which was amusing.
Erik stretched his arms. "Not later. Why do you ask?"
"Never mind." Laetitia dived back into the lake, leaving Erik really alone with his thoughts. A popular theory stated that that was what had made him go rather unhinged, as it were.
The news that the tickets to "the Opera Ghost's new opera" were being sold back came as quite a shock to everyone, save Carlotta. Perhaps that was the reason Erik hated her so much.
"I always knew it was a terrible opera." She would claim in her Spanish accent.
Everyone else just ignored her, knowing it would be dangerous to respond.
With only a day till opening night, the entire cast and crew were going crazy with rehearsal after rehearsal. The fact that more people seemed to be going to see that Amy Eldwin did nothing, or very little, to dampen their enthusiasm.
"Straighten up, girls! Now bend down! That's it! No, wait! What do you think you're doing, girl? Get back in line!" That was the constant stream of commands given by Meg's mother, Madame Giry. Once, a ballerina, new to the opera, had made the mistake of complaining where Madame Giry could hear her just before opening night. To put it mildly, she never did that again.
Everyone that day practiced non-stop from dawn till dusk. Even during their short lunch break, they would be going over where they when over and over in their heads. The orchestra would practice their fingers for their different instruments, while Andre and Firmin frantically tried to get people to buy tickets. With them, it was rather a hopeless cause: only three people bought the tickets, while quite a lot returned them.
On the day of the performance, this got even crazier than before, if that were possible. Madame Giry, not satisfied with the ballet dancers, had them practice longer than dawn till dusk. Selling of the tickets went even farther downhill; more and more people were returning them while absolutely no one bought a single one.
Finally, it was opening night. Erik, invisible in his usual seat in box five, looked on in horror. What started as a full house turned into less than half. Maybe only a third of the seats where full. And the people who were there looked like they wanted to be elsewhere. The Phantom didn't have to be the genius he was to know where that 'elsewhere' was.
To make matters worse, half of the dancers got so flustered at the lack of people that they completely ruined the steps they had for the past few days worked so hard on. One of the singers got so nervous, she lost her voice: all that came out was a strange croaking sound, not unlike the sound Carlotta had made when the Phantom had switched her spray-bottle.
Erik finally had to leave, unable to take the humiliation much longer.
Be nice and tell me what you think so far. In other words: review, please!