Author's Note: So, hello there. I'm relatively new at this. I wrote a few stories when I was in high school, but I haven't been on my page for those in years. I thought I'd start over and this idea just to mind. I'm still iffy about it but I'm hoping it works. This story is a Phantom of the Opera inspired story but it's heavily influenced by Jane Eyre and has some Beauty and the Beast themes in it. It's set in the mid-late 1800's near the times Jane Eyre and Phantom of the Opera took place. I've always loved the Victorian and Edwardian eras and both stories take place in the Victorian Era. Of course one is in England and one is in France but the culture and dress of the time fit for both. I've made this story so Christine's father is still alive and she hasn't gone to the opera house. Really this story will have very little to do with the opera but will retain the major characters of Phantom of the Opera. I apologize if it's a bit of a rocky start but I'll ask you to bear with me to see where it goes.

It was a cold and rainy day, hardly suitable for a walk. A reminder of the day her mother was placed in the ground. Her father became a widower that day, a result of the sickness that had wracked her body for years. Although it pained her to say so, it was a blessing her end had finally come. Her mother was free from suffering. As were she and her father, free from sitting idly by with no way to help.
That day was long ago now, only a distant memory but the effects still remained. Her father was so distant and quiet nowadays. She worried of course, how could she not? The sadness that filled their house was becoming unbearable. From the time she was 7 it was all she had known in their home, and now 15 years of , she didn't know how much longer she could handle it. Sighing, she tapped her nails against the glass. Nothing could be done of the weather or limit in activities. She'd been daydreaming for nearly three hours and it was time to put an end to her boredom. It would never be done if she didn't do it soon. And she would not live like this any longer, she would not live this facade of a real life. To say that she had lived an unhappy childhood would be wrong. She could recall a time when there had been laughter, when their home was filled with music and light. But it had been her mother who had taught her all she knew; her love of literature, music, to be compassionate, and understanding. Since her passing there was little light.

The sound of a cup breaking and a yell broke her out of her daydreams.
"Christine!" More than likely her father had hurt himself in a fit of frustration. If anything, these past several years had been harder on him than on his daughter. She made her way to where he sat in the study, careful to move the china set away from him.
"Yes papa, I heard you call and the crash. You haven't hurt yourself again have you?"
"Again?", he looked up at her with tired eyes and back down again. "No, no nothing like that. It simply slipped is all. Don't worry about cleaning it either Christine dear, please."

If there was one thing she could truly still admire about her father it was the way he said her name. Christine. He said it with so much love. She was the last thing he had of her mother, and she knew he loved her dearly. It was simply difficult for him to make it clear since he'd lost his wife. Christine's mother had named her after her closest childhood friend. From what her parents had told her they had been made for each other. It was evident from the way they looked at one another and the way her father had closed in on himself after her death that they had only ever loved each other. They had something rare in their marriage, they had love. They were affectionate with one another, had nicknames; she called him her goose instead of Gustave and he called her his squirrel rather than Nora. The thought alone made Christine smile with even the hope of something like that existing.

"Christine?" She softly shook her head to look back at him.
"Yes papa I'm here." He patted the seat beside him indicating that she sit.
"I've been wanting to discuss something with you."
"Oh?"
"Yes", he nodded, "You've been quieter than usual, like you're hiding something." Christine absently fingered the lace on her sleeves and looked towards the ground. "Is there something you'd like to discuss with me?"

There was a long moment of silence that followed before she took and breath and began.
"Yes, it's- well I've been… Let me begin again. Papa you know I love you, and I never want you to believe that I don't. Please know that papa." Gustave narrowed his eyes and nodded, confused.

"Of course I know that Christine. I know these past years since your mother- well since then- have been difficult and I haven't been the best with you but I do at least know that. Is everything alright?"
"Oh yes! It's nothing bad. I've only been nervous to ask you is all. But let me just say everything before you give me an answer or not please?" He nodded his consent.

"Well, I've been thinking, now that I'm old enough and I have been for quite some time now. I'm well versed in music and literature an- and I'm fluent in english and french! I want to put that all to use." She looked down to the floor again, shuffling her feet. "And a few months ago I saw an advertisement for a position as governess for the children of a house in England." Her father's eyes opened wide at this with protest. "I know, I know it's far! It's a long ways away papa but I need-" She paused to gather her thoughts and form her words the right way. "I need to be able to spread wings. I want to go out and live my life and if I could do this. If I could take this position and prove myself. I could use it to make a name for myself, I could pay for my own home and… and I could pay for you. Please papa I've already sent word to the house that I may be interested in the position. All I have to do know is tell them I want it and I'll be coming soon. Please papa, let me do this. For me, for both of us. I can't stay here and do nothing anymore. Please."

Christine couldn't think of anything else to say but she continued to look at him with pleading eyes. Gustave moved his eyes from Christine and turned his chair towards her. He ran a hand over his face, the years of stress having obviously taken a toll on him. Christine was still waiting and was losing hope by the second. "Papa?" He took her hands in his and patted them. After the years of silence and what could only be difficult on his daughter he wanted nothing else but for her to be happy. But how could he let her go? How could he let go of the one thing that had kept him happy since his wife? He couldn't make her stay but her couldn't let her leave.
"Christine-" Her face fell before he could even begin.
"No, no it's okay papa. It was only a thought. But really I'll be fine! I don't need to go-"
"Christine please let me finish. Award me the same courtesy I gave you dear?"
"Yes of course papa." But she kept her eyes down.
"Now what I was going to say was that as much as I would love for you to stay here in France with me, I knew the day would come when I would have to let you go. You're a woman now Christine and of course I don't want you to live but I want you to be happy." He paused and smiled at her. "And if this is what will make you happy then I want you to go." Christine couldn't believe it and her father could tell from the look on her face. She jumped up quicker than he could react to.
"Papa! Oh papa! Do you mean it? You're really fine with me going? Oh my goodness!" She hugged him hard, nearly knocking him over in the process. Her laughter filled the room, it brought a sense of joy that Gustave hadn't felt in years. "This is incredible! I have to pack, I have to gather my materials. Oh and I have to write them of course! I can't wait to get there and begin!" She bounced all over the room, hardly being able to contain herself.

"Christine please, I'm much older than you dear." He scolded her, but he couldn't help smiling at how excited she was.
"Oh yes papa, I'm sorry!" But she hardly looked it. She bounded for the door, still hardly believing her luck. "I'll be upstairs packing my things if you need me papa. And I'll write them tonight as well to say I'm coming!" She moved for the door and paused before turning back to look at him.
"And papa?" He smiled softly at her. "Thank you. Thank you so very much."

Then she ran down the hall toward the stairs, giggling all the way.