Before the Phantom

A Realization

   "Christine!" Nadette half-yelled in shock, "Where in the world have you been? We've all been worried sick!"

"That's what I am here to tell you! But not here!  It isn't safe!" The girl whispered, casting a glance at the mirror, "Come with me.  We will talk over lunch."

And so, hardly knowing what she was doing, Nadette stood and followed Christine, only stopping to grab her cloak and to cast one final glance around small room.

Erik, on the other hand, was having a slightly difficult time breathing.

Nadette?  That Nadette? Impossible! Certainly after all this time our paths would not cross!  He thought in a daze. But who else could it be? She certainly looks like she could be my old friend, and her story matches, but how am I to be sure?

Erik's hand suddenly collided with the wall.  He was not angry, only overwhelmed.

"Her eyes." He spoke aloud, "I must see her eyes."

So he followed them to Nadette's room, staring through the mirror as Christine helped her to gather a small purse and to find her hat. He watched in anticipation as the two fumbled around the room, their muffled voices carrying through the glass.

"But I don't see why-"

"Just trust me! We mustn't talk here."

"Alright! Oh! There it is!"

Nadette grabbed a burgundy hat and placed it upon her dark waves, approaching the mirror to be sure she looked decent. As her eyes traveled from her feet to her face, Erik gasped softly.

Two crystal blue eyes the color of ice seemed to stare at him. So it really was Nadette.

He could hardly believe it.  The only good thing that came from his childhood was once again within his reach.  She had grown up well, he must admit.  The angelic child he knew was now a positively ethereal woman. 

Did she know why he had disappeared?  Would she care if she knew he was here?

He did not know, but he leaned after her as she followed Christine from her room.

The women sat opposite each other in a tiny cafe only a few yards from the opera house.  Christine had already begun her tale, and Nadette listened intently. Christine spoke of her angel, and how he was not an angel after all! Nadette had to feign surprise at that, and if Christine noticed, she didn't say so.

"Who then?" The older woman questioned.

"He is the Phantom of the Opera, Nadette! It has been him this whole time!"

If Nadette had not had a conversation with the specter only fifteen minutes prior, she would not have believed the girl. However, though she did not believe he was a ghost, she did not doubt he could have done such a thing.

"And what then, Christine?  What happened after you fainted?" she questioned.

The young girl's demeanor suddenly changed, and a fearful expression washed over her features.

"I woke up in his bed- no, no he did not do anything improper- but he was playing his organ as I opened my eyes.  I should not have done it Nadette, but I was so curious, and he was so distracted!  I crept up behind  him, and removed his mask!" Christine explained.

"His mask? Christine that is a detail you forgot to mention.  The man wears a mask?" Nadette asked. 

"Oh! Yes, I am sorry, but until then I did not think it important.  I had thought he wanted to keep his identity a secret, but it was worse than I could have imagined!"  The girl whispered, her eyes began to fill with tears, and the older woman felt for her. 

Nadette spoke softly, "What was worse, Christine?"

The soprano took a deep breath to steady herself, "His face.  It is hideous.  The entire right side of his face is deformed, Nadette!  He made me look after I took off the mask, and he was so angry!  He seemed sad though, and so I gave him his mask back when I thought he wouldn't hurt me.  I was glad to have his face covered."

Nadette had gone quite pale in the mean time, not with fear or terror, but in awe.

"Deformed?" Nadette whispered, "Well why on earth would you take off his mask anyway, Christine?  That is his privacy and you have invaded it!  I would certainly be angry as well, deformity or no deformity.  And my dear Christine, I know well that you are young, but do you honestly believe the man can help the way he looks? Do you think that he chose this way of life?  My God Christine, are you really so close-minded?"

"But-but even so, all that he has done-"

Nadette huffed in annoyance, "He probably felt it was the only way to gain anybody's attention.  Lord knows what he has been through.  He is probably only looking for someone who will care for him despite his appearance!"

Christine's face suddenly held a look of disgust, "But he is horrible! You have not seen him! You-"

"Did you ask him his name?" Nadette asked, her annoyance suddenly gone.

The soprano was taken aback by the older woman's sudden change in attitude, "Well, no.  No it never came up."

"I am sorry for being angry with you.  I cannot help it, since I had a friend once who looked very different.  I am afraid I must leave you, Christine." Nadette said quickly.

Then, without further explanation, the woman left the shoppe, paying for her meal on her way out. 

Was it possible? She thought as she rushed back to her room, His mother said he had died.

But what if she was lying?