Darling. (Erik/Phantom x Reader)

One.

Sussex Opera House

East Sussex, England

***

In her dressing room, a flurry of women moved around her with a panicked determination. They all whispered about props, costumes, stage directions, and make up -- Y/N found herself nodding at what she could understand, disregarding what she could not. After all, this was far from her first night performing as Rodelinda, the lead of Handel's acclaimed opera by the same name. 

She allowed an old, thin Irish woman to dab powder onto her face, as another wound her hair tightly into a fashionable updo, all while Y/N stared at her reflection, trying to calm her nerves. It was closing night of the Rodelinda, and the opera had run for two weeks (as most at Sussex do), and she felt an immense pressure to make this night her best yet. She had received critical acclaim thus far, and plenty of hints from the opera's manager that she would be invited to audition for next season's show. 

A bell rang, and she quickly stood and moved quickly out of her room and to the left wing of the stage. She took a quick peak out of the thick velvet curtain to see the packed audience just as the lights began to dim, and forced down the bit of panic hitting her system. She quickly looked up to box one and saw her father, and Charles, and smiled with the comfort of knowing her two most beloved people were in the audience, supporting her. 

Then, once the orchestra began and the room was pitch black, she ran to center stage and, in her elaborate black dress of lace, threw herself onto a sofa. The curtain opened, and she began her sobbing and mournful music. 

***

The performance went by in a whirlwind of bliss. She was at her prime, and her voice seemed to have an entrancing effect on the audience. It was only when the final curtain closed that her adrenaline rush began to fade, and she practically collapsed from relief and exhaustion onto the dark stage, whose only light came spilling in from under the curtain. The entirety of the ballet was collapsed besides her, all the young girls laughing in relief. 

"Y/N, Y/N you did wonderful!" Her friend, Helena, congratulated as she ran towards Y/N, throwing her arms around the collapsed figure that was their leading lady. Helena was the youngest seamstress of the opera house, as well as the head of costumes. 

Y/N wrapped her arms around Helena, laughing weakly and joyously, "I did it, Helena... I did it."

Helena stood up, pulling Y/N to her feet, "There is an audience waiting for you to shake their hands and accept their flowers, Teddy." 

Y/N groaned, "Can you help me change, first? Quickly?" She motioned to her outfit, a difficult-to-move-in corset and series of large skirts in blue and purple, complete with small rhinestones which added a fair amount of weight. 

Helena didn't answer, but instead brought her to the dressing room and shut the door behind them. 

Helena began untying Y/N's corset, speaking as she did so, "I think this was your best night yet. Plus, rumor is some very important people in the industry waited until tonight to see you!"

She smiled, "I hope so. I would love to sing again -- soon!" She began taking her skirts and dresses off as Helena prepared her regular dress, a delicate green beauty with elaborate embroidery. As soon as she finished changing, she grabbed her father's walking stick, which she borrowed on nights like this. Physically tolling nights. 

The two moved out from behind the stage and to the main room of the opera house, and immediately were swarmed with admirers. An onslaught of wealth Englishmen and women came towards her with flowers, chocolates, jewelry, and praise. 

"Thank you -- thank you so much," She kept repeating in a soft and gracious tone to everyone who handed her something. Three large bouquets in, the ballet girls began taking them from her, bringing all the gifts to her father's carriage. She was flustered with the unholy amount of praise she was receiving. 

After no less than two hours of hugging and meeting important onlookers and answering brief questions for press, she finally found her father. In his great stature of six foot two, she spotted him much sooner than the man he was speaking with, an older fellow with an excellent mustache. 

"Papa!" Y/N called once she was close enough. He turned to her, a grin illuminating his face as he spotted his greatest point of pride -- his only child, and favorite person alive. 

"Teddy!" He embraced her tightly, "Marvelous job," He said, releasing her quicker than he would have normally to introduce her to the elderly man in front of them, "You must meet this good fellow. This is Monsieur Carriere of the Opera Populaire in Paris."

Y/N was immediately humbled by his presence. The Opera Populaire was one of the best opera houses in the world, second only to La Scala in Italy. However, for a Prima Donna looking for a stable place of performance, the Populaire was the best.

Y/N responded in French out of respect, "Monsieur, it is an honor." 

"Oh! Her French is very good," Carriere responded in English through a thick accent, turning to her father before looking back at her, "It will do you well in Paris."

Y/N's face was plastered with confusion, which her father filled in, "The Monsieur came tonight in search of a new Prima Donna for his next production. He hopes you will go to France to audition."

Y/N's confusion morphed into shock, and she found herself leaning heavily onto the walking cane. 

"Well, Mademoiselle? Would you consider it? I know you are very young and Paris is very far, but your voice is..." Carriere looked off somewhere for a moment, lost in the memory of Y/N's angelic singing, before returning to say, "Manifique." 

Y/N turned to her father, who gave her a curt nod. "Ye-yes, Monsieur. I would be honored -- when, when are the auditions?"

"A week from tomorrow," He answered, "I have given your father the necessary information. I am elated to have made your acquaintance." 

With that, Carriere took her hand and gave it a kiss out of politeness before bowing slightly to her father and exiting the opera house himself. 

***

Returning to her estate in Winchester that night was a long yet blissful experience. Her father, herself, and her father's righthand man, Charles, traveled together in a luxurious carriage full of flowers and chocolates and other goods gifted to her. 

"I cannot believe it!" Y/N squealed, holding the arm of Charles, who sat beside her tonight. He was only a few years her senior, and easily her best friend. 

Charles chuckled, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, "I can, you are a fantastic performer, Teddy Bear."

"Yes, you did quite splendidly. Charles, we should begin preparing her for travel tomorrow," Her father piped up from the seat facing them, fixing the sleeve of his richly blue coat. 

"I cannot believe I am going to Paris!" Y/N exclaimed, squeezing Charles' arm again, "And I am to be a prima donna of a full season production! Oh my god, I have a career! This is a career!" To say she was elated was an understatement. Since she was a child, Y/N had feared nothing more than becoming a housewife in England. She wanted her singing to become a career, but everyone consistently told her it would be nearly impossible. Here, she was doing the impossible! 

Charles embraced her once more, "Yes, it is. We are so proud of you." 

"Exactly right," Her father affirmed, "We will get home, you go to bed, and tomorrow we will solidify travel plans."

Y/N nodded, leaning herself into Charles, "Bed... bed sounds so good."

"I think she's lulling off, Arthur."

"I would happen to agree, Charles," Her father affirmed again.