Chapter eight - News

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August 2nd 1872

Erik

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My office sat at the back of the now renovated theater. After fleeing Paris and arriving in America an old friend of mine, Nadir Kahn, has been helping me get a fresh start. With the money I've been saving from the Opera house I managed to purchase an old run down amusement park in New York, which has been on the market for years. The park sat on the coast with a boardwalk leading out to the ocean, there was everything from games, to rides, even a theater. Madame Giry had agreed to be instructor for the company and Meg would be the lead dancer. It's the happiest I've been in months.

Everything seemed to be going right for me, well almost everything. I haven't heard anything of Christine since that night. Every single day I think about her. Everything I see reminds me of her and how big of a mistake I made leaving her.

Behind my office sat a storage room I now use as a my writing room. In the room sat piano, on the piano sat a photo of Christine, it helped me focus but doesn't have the same effect she had on me. I only have it out when I write though, if anyone else knew I was still hung up on her I don't know how they would react.

As I sit and read the newspaper I notice an interesting article. I read it very carefully.

'In news today we have received word that the Viscount and Viscountess de Chagny welcomed their daughter Ava Rose into the world on July 25th 1872'

She has a child.

With him.

Why am I getting so upset? I let them be together, she's living the life she wanted with someone who loves her just as much as she loves them. What happened between us was a mistake and I shouldn't be thinking about it as much as I do.

A photo was included with the article. Christine sat on a chair in front of that fop holding the child. She looked happy, a small smile graced her face as she looked down at the girl. It hurt to see it, I will not lie. This wasn't how our story was supposed to end, but things don't always turn out the way you want them to.

I throw the paper into the fireplace with frustration and rub my temple. A knock on the door brought me out of my thoughts,

"Come in."

"Erik?" Meg says as she walks in

"What." I say a in an irritated tone

"Mother would like to know how the new song is coming along."

"It's fine. Now leave."

"Are you okay? You seem a little tense." She places a hand on my upper arm

"I'm fine. Now please leave."

I stand up annoyed, and walk into the other room slamming the door without another word. I collapse onto the couch with my head in my hands. I look over at the photo of my angel, my muse, my Christine.

I can't do this.
Without Christine I'm nothing. I can't compose anything worth listening to, for I do not have any inspiration.
I'll find a way to get her back to me.

Someday.

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