Phantom of the Opera fan fiction

I don't anything about Phantom of the Opera. I own Toby, Tala, Reinette and Julien.  All rights go to respective writers, artists etc. I just had to XD

“Tala, get over here and help me. Me old bones aren't what they used to be, and Toby's busy,” Buquet was a foul, disgusting man, who spent most of his life drunk and the rest of his life ordering me and my friend Toby around. Toby was my best and closest friend, and I had known him for years. He was tall, but not overly so. He had hazelnut brown hair, and was muscular and strong, which was no surprise since he had been first trained in the field of blacksmithery. Most people said we were a matched pair, as I also had similar hair colour, although mine was much longer. I was stronger that most girls of my age, because my family bred horses, and I was tall for my age. Buquet, on the other hand, could be tall, but for the hunched back that no doubt stemmed from his line of work – the same line of work that myself and Toby were now employed in. He hobbled around the rafters of the Opera Populaire and tended to anything that needed to fly, mainly props or people. He also controlled the curtains and the large torches that provided spotlights. He spent whatever time he wasn't working in the ladies' changing room, frightening them with stories about a man who was so hideous he had to wear a mask, so repulsive he lived in the dungeons, so terrifying that he had come from a freak show.

On the other hand, me and Toby were both eighteen and worked alongside Buquet, fetching and carrying, and doing tasks his physique didn't permit him to. The wage was good and the work was never too difficult. Since Buquet had started his line of work in the workhouse, labouring long, hard hours over dangerous machines, he had never been particularly fit. I and Toby each had our own back-stories, and both came from different families, although we looked so alike that no-one would have guessed. We had gotten work together by passing off as brother and sister, and even though only a few days after hiring us the truth got out, the kindly manager – a Monsieur Lefèrve – had allowed us to stay. We had been told not to limit our talents to rafter-work – unlike Buquet, we were perfectly fit and quite strong. Toby stemmed from a long line of blacksmiths, and had grown up with hammers and heavy metal, and had been training in that field when he met me. My family kept horses for carriage-pulling – we took them in, trained them up, and ran a carriage-hire company on the side with the best trained horses in Paris. I had been mostly in charge of caring for the horses, because I loved them. Part of this involved me taking trips to the blacksmiths to get them new shoes, and that was where I met Toby. I had jogged up – I may be the only girl in Paris who wears trousers instead of skirts, because I was so used to wearing jodhpurs – and while he worked, I watched him. We met regularly, because we kept enough horses that they needed a lot of shoes.

It was while we were talking one day that his father came out of the house. He noticed Toby leaning on a wall in his apron talking to me, and then saw me wearing trousers, and had had enough. To this day I don't see what shame there is in wearing trousers, or talking to boys you know. He dragged me home kicking and screaming, told my parents I had been shaming my family by meeting a boy I didn't know and demanded to know why I was wearing men's clothes. He didn't notice my mother wearing her jodhpurs, he was too angry to care. My own father was so angry when he found out I had been meeting Toby outside of getting shoes, as he was a firm believer that girls should not choose their husbands. Having been brought up outside the rules of society, I fought back, told him I should marry who I wanted, someone I loved. He sent me upstairs and told me not to return until told to, or he would take his belt to me. I lay on my bed and sobbed, knowing I would never see Toby again. We had never kissed, or even held hands – we were just very good friends. A while later, there were five taps on my window in quick succession. Being on the second floor of my house, it could only be rocks. I crossed to my window and heaved it up. I saw Toby standing underneath with a small bunch of flowers. He motioned me to come down, and since my father had long since gone to bed, I crept down the stairs and eased the door open .I slipped out without my shoes and ran over to him. He hugged me closely, and then held me at arm’s length. We had a long discussion, and when he went home I ran up to my room. I threw my most practical clothes into a bag and hid them in my wardrobe. I dressed in my jodhpurs and a shirt, and then waited for Toby to come back. At dawn, more rocks hit my window. I heard my father getting up, and bolted out of the house. Toby and I each took one of my parents’ horses and rode them quickly through the city centre. We didn't know where to go, until we overheard someone saying the Opera Populaire was looking for someone to help their props man out. We go there quickly and managed to start work as brother and sister. A few days later, we were just known as Tala and Toby the Terrible Twosome, which was just a ribbing of how much time we spent together. Our lives just seemed to get better.