(BEING REWRITTEN) An Opera Ghost- A Phantom of the Opera Fan Fiction

Chapter Twenty

The ball room of Opera Populaire was filled to the brim with masked faces and long skirts whipping around as their owners twirled. Everywhere people gossiped about this new female playwright, wondering of her credentials and her looks.

"She must be an ugly lady, doing nothing with her life but writing operas!" one girl sniffed behind her vibrant purple mask. A young lady with a black mask contrasting against light blonde hair rolled her eyes, ignoring the comment made so rudely. This was Meg, disguised for the night among the tenants. She was standing against the wall with a few more unclaimed souls. A few had come to ask for a dance, but she had claimed her date was at speaking to someone, when truthfully he had not arrived yet. It was so like Erik to want to arrive fashionably late...

Meg had not seen Christine, so she was hoping the woman had forgotten...

"Now announcing the arrival of..." the speaker at the door began, making Meg whip her head towards the entrance. Had Florence finally dragged her father out of the cellars? "The Viscount de Changy and his wife." Meg felt color escape her face as a few clapped. She watched couple that was so familiar enter the ball room, dressed similarly to what they had worn long ago and wearing masks that covered the top halves of their faces.

She watched them make their way around the room and greet the fan bearing Madame Giry. At that moment, Madame Giry looked to her daughter and the two exchanged a worry glance. But it was short lived, as the speaker cleared his throat, gaining all the attention in the room. The dancing couples yielded mid twirl, the instrumentalists stopping their melody, and the conversations dying to barely audible whispers.

"Now announcing the guests of honor!" the speaker declared merrily. Meg glanced back to where her mother had been, only the see she and Christine were gone, leaving only Raoul at the top of the stairs. "The generous Monsieur de Phant along his lovely, talented daughter, the writer of our opera tonight, Mademoiselle Florence de Phant!" At Florence's name, the father and daughter strode in, heads held high. Florence's hand rested on her father's up lifted one as he guided her forward, her crimson dress- which matched her father's tuxedo- sweeping across the ground. Though their apparel was eye grabbing enough, it was their masks that really caught the attention. Erik's was the one he had worn so long ago, the one that looked like a skull covering the upper part of his face. And though it may have been hard to believe, Florence's looked even more frightening. It was full faced and all white, and with the red shawl wrapped around her head and shoulders, it made her look like the ghost she was.

Everyone remained silent as Florence pulled down her shawl to reveal a head of blonde hair. A wig. Meg almost scoffed, but then remembered Christine was there and would've probably recognized a head full of her hair.

"My lovely viewers," Florence's soft voice carried through the room with ease due to the utmost silence of her audience, "I am sorry if my appearance, or that of my father frighten you. We are a rather dramatic couple of people." That earned a few light laughs from her audience. "And I am, too, sorry I may not reveal to you this night my face. However, I feel you must know me only as I know myself. And I am hidden. Think of this as an introduction to my opera, as like the character, I am also very protected by my loving father."

This idea seemed to very much impress the onlookers, who clapped happily and made comments on her cleverness. Florence gave a curtsy to her happy audience, her hand still lying a top her father's. The clapping died down, and then Erik began speaking.

"I will admit, friends," he said in his haunting voice, "that when I read through my daughter's script the first time, I didn't particularly care for it. You see, she wrote it when I confined her to our home, upset I would no longer see a boy from the village. While I am still not allowing her to court just yet, I do believe it is very possible I may have taken a step too far, not allowing my daughter the freedom she deserves. And that is the reason she graces you with her presence tonight, my good people. Please treat her kindly, as she knows no other way." Again, there were claps.