Christine's Tutor (A Phantom of the Opera Prequel)

III (Christine)

Christine couldn't wait to get a reply from the voice tutor; all throughout the day she sent it, she was on end thinking about what he might say in his letter. But she didn't have to apprehend such things for much longer, for, to her delight, two days after she had sent her letter, she got what she was eagerly awaiting.

On that morning, she awoke at the break of dawn, and, without dressing out of her robe, hurried outside to her mailbox barefoot. She opened it and reached her hand in, and felt around. When her hand touched something, she grabbed onto it excitedly and pulled it out.

It was the letter she'd been hoping for; she could see in the topaz light of the rising sun her name written in fine penmanship on the front. "Christine Daae", is all it read. She smiled to herself as she brought it back inside.

She sat down at her desk and opened the envelope. She took out the letter and unfolded it carefully. Her eyes skimmed over his writing, jumping from place to place, taking in the meaning of what he wrote.

Eventually, having re-read the letter enough times over, she put it down calmly, laying it gently upon her desk-top. She stared into space, frozen in thought, then, suddenly, allowed her joy to break free. She rushed to her wardrobe and took out a dress to wear for the day. After dressing into it, she hastened to her vanity, and sat down. She applied her make-up as fast as she could, and combed out her hair. Not bothering to check how she looked twice, she got up and left for the opera-house.

No sooner had she entered the dressing room in the opera-house than she spotted Meg, and immediately went over to where she was standing to tell her the good news. She was so eager that she had to keep herself from running there.

"Why so excited, Christine?" Meg asked when Christine reached her.

"I'm going to be taking voice lessons, at no cost! I've been accepted as an apprentice to a music tutor." She answered. She could hardly keep her voice down.

"For no cost? Is this true?"

"Yes, and he said in a letter that he wishes to meet me tonight, at eight o'clock, so that I may begin my lessons."

Now that she had mentioned this to Meg, Meg's tone became more worried and suspicious as she warned, "Are you sure this isn't a trick? You must be careful, Christine. This may be too good to be true."

"I'm sure. I can feel it; this feels too real to be a trick. Don't ask me how, but it does."

Meg's expression of alarm softened. "Alright, Christine, but do be careful."

"You know I will."

~

Seven o'clock rolled around, and Christine was the last one to leave the Opera-house. She packed up her bag and set off for home as soon as she was ready to leave. The lights in the building were already turned off, and the only source of light she had to guide her outside was the light filtering in through the windows from the streetlamps.

She walked through the streets, squeezing her bag to her chest, nervous for what was to come in an hour. At one point, though, that was no longer the only thing that was making her nervous, for she began to feel that she was being followed.

She kept looking over her shoulder as she went along on her way, her pace transitioning into a light jog, until finally she came to her home and locked herself inside. Immediately, she felt relief. She dwelled no longer upon her feeling of being stalked, and proceeded to gather what she may need for her encounter with her new voice tutor- paper, pencils, etc.

The minute hand of the clock on her wall hit the "6" mark. She figured that she best embark at this time.

She gathered everything she had prepared into a small purse, and took off with it and the tutor's letter in her hands.

She glanced at the addresses marking the buildings she passed, seeking out the address given in the letter, rounding street corners and turning onto different streets whenever she saw that the addresses down those streets were closer in similarity to the address she was looking for.

She came finally to the address she was looking for.

This couldn't be right.

She looked back and forth between the letter and the address. Is he in there? Is he in that abandoned place?

That was when it occurred to her like a pang in the heart: what if Meg was right?

She had to be careful. Maybe she shouldn't do this, after all. But there was something within her that desperately held onto hope, that was in denial, that refused to believe that this was a trick. It was something within her that wanted this to be real, and was willing to go forward at all risks to make this real.

Her breast swelled with apprehension and anxiety. Then, she discarded all thoughts of fear, and pushed herself forward.

She opened the door to the old, imposing theatre and walked inside. She didn't have to shut the door behind her, for it shut on its own; as it clicked shut, it made a startling sound that echoed, causing her to jump. Regaining her bearings, she proceeded.

There was one small candle lit on a tea-table in the reception area; that was her only guide. It was what allowed her to see the cobwebs stretching from object to object, from wall to ceiling, and the dust collected on all the furniture. Then, from one of the side halls, another candle emerged.

She didn't see its holder at first, so she was frightened by it. But even when she could make out a face, she wasn't comforted in the least bit; in fact, it gave her more of a fright. She was about to turn around and take off running, when he said:

"You must be Christine."

She froze in place. "Yes, sir, and you are...?" she asked cautiously.

"You may call me 'sir'. You need not know my name. I am your tutor."

"Ah, of course. Forgive me, sir."

He approached her. As he got closer, she could see his features; she could see his dark, combed back hair, his long face, and the strong, authoritative look in his blue eyes. There was a scar stretching from his right ear to the corner of his mouth. He was handsome nonetheless.

"Shall we begin?" he said. Now, he was standing uncomfortably close to her.

"Yes, sir." She fumbled with her purse. "I've brought paper and a pencil. I even have a few sheets of staff paper, if you like."

"That will do."

He turned and made his way over to a dust-covered sofa; it was covered in so much dust that Christine couldn't tell which color it really was. It looked gray to her. He took out a cloth from his vest and wiped the dust off. He took a seat, then wiped down the cushion next to him, and invited her to likewise take a seat.

With that, she awkwardly began her lesson with him. She reassured herself that she felt so awkward only because this was her first lesson with the stranger. She'd get used to this, she told herself.

He went through scales with her, demonstrating them for her, but not asking her to sing yet. He taught her where the notes he sang belong on the music staff and what certain symbols meant. His voice was powerful, intense, compelling, and especially captivating, even when he only sang single notes at a time. She was blown away by him.

Before she knew it, an hour had passed, and an old grandfather clock somewhere within the theatre struck nine times.

"It seems that our time together has ended", he declared. "You may go home now. I expect you to review everything I have taught you today. Return to me in three days, at the same hour."

She was surprised by his abruptness and brevity. "Oh, okay, sir. Thank you. I'll take my leave now?"

"Yes, go ahead."

She didn't know how she should take her leave- should she just leave, or should she say something more to him? She decided upon the former, and, after saying, "Alright, sir. Goodnight", without looking back, she walked toward the exit. As she exited the theatre, she felt his eyes on her back.

~