The Phantom, the Soprano and the Opera || Phantom Of The Opera Fanfic

III. Peptalk

By the time Christine came down to her cellar dwelling it was already 4. She skipped stairs on her way down. It was very dark, she barely managed to avoid crashing into a table.

She rushed towards the painting which covered the hidden stairway and pushed it aside. Jutting her head through she called out.

"Maestro, Maestro! It's urgent, please!"

A minute passed, nothing. Christine was sure he would come soon, he promised. Maestro told her in their second lesson that she could call out to him from the stairway if she ever needed him.

She decided to light up a candle in the meanwhile, inspecting the warm flame.

Christine concluded that their practice room was actually his atelier where he worked as the opera's luthier. Mending and maintaining a myriad of instruments used by the orchestra since he always came from the stairway to collect her for her daily lessons. One particular day, she noticed that the cellos which until then occupied the corner of their practice room were gone. In their place was a familiar looking harp which she frequently noticed, gleaming in the orchestra pit. The toolbox was half closed beside it, she recognised thick strings and a tuning winder peaking through the tiny opening.

Poor man, he was so busy that he never had time to come out of the workroom. Otherwise she would have recognised his tall figure and ginger hair by now.

She felt tempted few times to ask orchestra members about their mysteriously masked luthier but by the time she completed her tasks their practice sessions ended and the musicians were long gone. Christine found them to be least social group in the opera.

"You called, Christine?" a deep voice rang from behind. Christine jumped. Clenching her chest she whirled around.

"My apologies, I didn't intend to frighten you." the Maestro apologised hastily. He stood near the stairway, the candlelight illuminating his tall frame.

Christine let out a sight, her shoulders relaxed.

His stealth rivalled the one of a cat.

Maestro's white mask was in place as always, hair slicked back. Christine got so used to his mask that she hardly paid attention to it anymore. He wore his usual attire, white ruffled shirt underneath a thick black coat that he never took off, paired with dark trousers which ended right above his oxford shoes. Everything was obviously very well tailored and fitted him like a glove.

Speaking of gloves, he wasn't wearing them today.

He must have been working.

Christine's lip quirked. He fitted the description of a perfect gentleman, from his looks all the way to his manners.

"I have been invited to the Bistro." she said, her hands started fidgeting with the hem of her gown.

"Those are splendid news Chrisitne," he thrilled, giving her a puzzled look "and how did-"

"The Count de Chaney visited the opera today," she interjected before he could ask, trailing off "He invited me, as his personal guest."

Maestro' shoulders tensed slightly. Under different circumstances she probably wouldn't have noticed.

Christine had already mentioned the Count once to Maestro not too long ago and he was obviously not too fond of the young man.

His grey eyes were seemingly looking through her. After a short pause they returned their attention to her face.

"The Bistro always starts at 6, that means we have-" he pulled out his pocket watch "less than 2 hours to prepare." with that he turned toward the stairway.