The Phantom Ascending |✔| [Phantom of the Opera Fanfiction]

Beautiful Montreux

Christine

I spread a map of Europe on the table and marked the town of Montreux with a neat, red circle.

It gave me a sense of accomplishment to see the layout of the places I've visited so far. There was Florence, where Manelli helped me with my first real solo concert; then followed a tour of Genoa, Sanremo and Nice, through which Giulia joined me, gratefully accepting a chance for a paid vacation. After that, she returned home, while I proceeded to hold concerts in Marseille, Montpelier, and Lyon.

Of course, it's been stressful to travel so much, rehearsing with different people and negotiating my repertoire again and again. I felt like I rushed into a situation that was a little out of my depth, not when it comes to my singing ability, but when it comes to handling the minutiae of my itinerary. Even so, singing before the audiences felt good, and it made all the trouble worth it. Every time I sang, I was using the skills Erik had taught me, and through this he was in some small way still present in my life.

Despite finding comfort in music, I still had to battle an aching sense of abandonment. I was hurt and disappointed, and couldn't quite believe that Erik had simply left. There was another option, of course, but I couldn't believe him dead, either.

Good reviews of my initial concerts had gotten me several new invitations to Paris, but I shied away from returning there, choosing to travel to Switzerland instead. A rich opera enthusiast offered to organize a concert for me in his home town, and to my great joy, allowed me to choose my songs, as long as most of them were well known, and as long as I sang two of his favorite arias as well.

Montreux was a serene, gorgeous town on the shore of Lake Geneva, with a growing number of grand houses, hotels and tourists, and renown as a retreat for poets and artists. Its horizon was framed by the lake and the mountains, and its promenades lined with trees. Here, life seemed to move at a slower, more leisurely pace.

I fell in love with Montreux at first sight, and on an impulse, decided to change my planned response to a Parisian patron, politely refusing an offer to perform on his grand ball, and explaining that I would take a vacation for the time being. I had the fortune of having no further scheduled concerts, and enough money to afford a comfortable, lengthy stay at Montreux. The sunny morning outside the window smiled at me, and I smiled back.

I got dressed and made my way to the concert hall, to go through one last rehearsal before the evening's show. I've been rehearsing with the orchestra for four days in a row now, and have been impressed with the speed of their learning curve. I also had to learn a Verdi's number that I've never sung before (Ritorna Vincitor from Aida, of all things!) and I was quite nervous about it.

This nervousness must have affected my senses, because I couldn't shake the feeling of being followed as I walked to my destination. I turned around, hoping -- would I see a man in a black cape disappear behind the corner? -- but I saw no one who could match Erik's description.

At the concert hall, I was surprised to find a reporter waiting to interview me. He was dressed in a nice beige suit and his smile was wide and sweet. He introduced himself as Bernard Garten from Montreux Journal.

"I know you must be busy, but I won't take long. My editor would like to have this published in the late evening edition, so..."

"Oh, it's fine," I said to the fair-haired man who looked to be about my age. Just like me, he was probably working hard to make a name of himself, and I had some extra time before the final rehearsal.