Love Persists

Chapter 22

Erik's POV:
I opened my eyes and was met only with darkness. In the distance, I could hear the sounds of water dripping onto a hard, wet surface. Despair fell over me as I realized I was back in my lair, as though everything I have just experienced was all just a dream.

Dragging myself out of my coffin, I began to walk around my home in the cellars, feeling as though I was getting acquainted with it for the first time. Everything seemed to be unreal and I felt as though I no longer belonged in this place I had once built.

I found myself aching to return to the future, where I was at least accepted by one person. But I knew that that could not happen or at least I could not make that happen. Until I was sent back, if I was ever sent back, I would just have to make do with my cellar beneath the opera house.

It must have all been a dream, although it had certainly not felt like one and I had never remembered the events of a dream so vividly. But still, it was the only explanation for how I had been somewhat accepted into society and had found someone who did not judge me based on my appearance.

I had never been happier than I had been in that dream and it hurt to recognize that it would never happen in real life. There was no one who would ever be able to love me after discovering the monster I was, I should not have even dreamt of something so impossible.

To take my mind off of the dream and the darkness that came along with realizing that it had only been a dream, I began to walk through the opera house. The ballet dancers were just getting to the room in which they warmed up, getting an early start to the day. Those who did not reside at the opera house itself, began to trickle in through the front doors and the opera house began to come to life for the day.

I sat in my normal seat in box five to watch the performance, not being able to remember which opera they were to perform this time. Honestly, I did not understand why I still came to watch the rehearsals or even the performances when they often pained me. The orchestra was mediocre at best, the singing was pitchy and often completely incorrect, and the lead soprano could not hold a tune to save her life. The only decent part of the entire company were the dancers, who were under the strict instruction of Madame Giry, but not even she was unable to make them anymore than acceptable.

As soon as the orchestra played the opening chord, mixed in with multiple wrong notes, I realized that the opera was Rossini's La Barbiere de Siviglia. Tears pierced my ears as memories of my dream began to replay in my head. I had sung one of the most famous arias from this opera to Mandie, something that I would never forget. Nor would I forget that new genre that she had introduced me to called rap.

I brought my mind back to the rehearsal, but found myself too pained to listen to any of it so I instead returned to my lair, where I began composing a new opera. This one would express the pain and sorrow that I felt but incorporate some styles that had been introduced to me through my dream.

After composing most of the day away, I took another walk around the opera house, trying to find more inspiration for my opera. I stopped when I heard the sounds of quiet singing coming from inside one of the rooms which were supposed to be empty. The voice was raw, but had a very angelic quality to it, one that I knew would surpass all once trained. Curious to know who belonged to the heavenly voice I heard, I slipped inside the room, hiding myself in the shadows.

There was a young woman in the middle of the room, on her knees as she sang with tears streaking down her cheeks. She had beautiful blonde curls cascading down her back and bright blue eyes which had turned red and puffy from crying.

She suddenly burst into tears, "oh papa, you promised me you would send me the angel of music, but you lied! He has not come and it has been almost a year. I miss you so much, papa, but how can I live without you if I cannot be in the presence of the angel you promised to send?"

"You must have patience," I spoke, using my ventriloquist skills to make it sound as though my voice was coming from the ceiling on the opposite side of the room.

"Wh-who are you?" She asked in panic as her eyes shot up to the spot my voice was coming from.

"I am sure you already know that, my dear child," I replied, wishing that I had known her name to make my act more convincing.

"A-Angel?"

"Yes, I am the angel of music. Your father sent me to you to train your voice and that is what I intend to do. You will soon possess a voice that all are envious of."