The O.G||Phantom of the Opera Fanfiction||

Strangers in the snow

         “Katerina! Are you alright?”

         I opened my eyes to find someone bending over me in an attempt to help me up off of the snow covered ground. Wait, snow? Why was there snow? Where….who...what in hell is going on here?

         Once I was on my feet I turned to find a fairly handsome young man, not much older than myself, staring at me.

         “Are you okay? That was a horrid fall you took.”

         He was tall with a mop of shaggy brown hair that littered his head and deep blue eyes that were filled with concern. The expression on my face must have given away the entirety of my confusion because he immediately began inspecting my head for injury.

         I backed away from his touch. He opened his mouth to say something to me, but was soon silenced by a another voice coming from some distance away.

         “Ezra, what happened? Is she alright?”

         The voice was coming from a young woman who was trying to run through the deep snow over to us. She was soon close enough that her features began to become more defined. Her hair was a mess of long brown curls that flew wildly ‘round her face in the roughness of the cold wind. Her skin was so fair and untouched that it could have been made of porcelain. Its appearance only magnified the beauty of her brown eyes and rose pink lips. It wasn’t until she was right in front of me that I realized who I was gawking at.

         “She tripped over a rock an fell. I think she's okay other than a small bump on her head. Although I think the fall must have rendered her senseless.”

         He gestured towards me and I realized that I was standing with my mouth wide open. I quickly closed it and began trying to figure out why in the hell Emmy Rossum, no, Christine Daaé was standing in front of me. What happened when I went through that mirror? Speaking of which, how in the hell did I fall through a freaking mirror in the first place?

         “Katerina dear? Are you a okay? Do you know where you are? Do you know who we are? Do you know who you are? ” Oh jeez she was talking to me. What do I do? After a few moments of useless mental rambling I managed to speak,

         “No...who...where...how…?”

         Okay that seemed to make more sense in my mind.

         “Oh my, Ezra, she must have hit the ground harder than I originally thought.”

         The young man, or Ezra I guess, turned his gaze from me to Christine.

         “Christine we must get her back to the Opera house immediately. She needs to lie down.”

         Opera house? Yep, I've officially lost it.

         The next thing I knew they were dragging me through at least a good foot of snow to a carriage that was probably a yard away. It wasn't until I tripped over a wad of cloth that I realized what I was wearing. I looked down at myself to find that I had on a long pale green dress complete with a corset and matching, um, cape? Well that explains why I can hardly breath. I looked up and began taking in my surroundings.

         I quickly determined that we were in the cemetery from the movie that was, of course, in Paris. I figured we must have been visiting Christine’s father’s grave. The ground was, like I said before, covered in snow which told me that it must be winter. The sky was a light shade of gray and clouded over entirely. Judging from where the sun was barely poking through the thin dark clouds I could tell it was early morning. By the time we had finally reached the carriage I could hardly feel my feet and was wondering what the point of this stupid cape thingy was. I mean if its purpose was to get in the way and annoy the person wearing it, then it was right on, but when it came to warmth, it failed in epic proportions.

         I hadn't realized how much the fall had affected me until I dizzily lost my balance and nearly fell out of the carriage after attempting to hop in. Luckily for me Christine had grabbed my arm just before I slipped.

         “Thanks” I muttered breathlessly as I threw myself on the seat next to her.

         As soon as I was sure we were moving I looked at the two strangers sitting next to me with what I hoped was complete and utter confusion. I was attempting to infer upon them that I had no idea what was going on. 

        Ezra looked at Christine and laughed. "Maybe if we knock her on the head again she'll remember." 

        Christine shot him a cynical glare then looked at me. "You really don't remember a thing, do you?"

         I shook my head. Christine sighed and looked at Ezra. "Well, Ezra, I guess we ought to 'remind' her then."

        "What? Do you two not believe me or something?" I crossed my arms over my chest.

        Christine smiled. "Of course we believe you, it's just a bit odd, that's all."

       Ezra spoke up. "Well where should we start. What is the last thing you remember?"

        I frowned. Okay what do I say? I mean I obviously couldn't just blurt out the truth, especially considering it involved me falling through a mirror. "Um, I remember my parents and the fire." I swallowed hard. Wait, what if that hadn't happened in this life?

        Christine looked at me and sighed. "I suppose we have a lot of catching up to do then."

        A wave of relief hit me, that was a close one. Then Christine began 'reminding' me of my life thus far.

         Apparently Christine’s father was good friends with my parents and after they died he’d adopted me. Christine and I had been like sisters ever since. The rest seemed to pretty much follow the movie except Ezra. I still couldn't figure out who this guy was and why he was here. I managed to infer this to Christine only to get a questioning looked followed by a brief answer.

         “You must remember Ezra. The two of you have been the best of friends for years now.”

         When I shook my head she looked at me as if I were mad, but continued to explain. He had come to the opera house when Christine and I were nine and seven(I was apparently the younger sibling)and became a, stage hand, if you will. He was three years my senior and had always looked after my, uh, sister and I(getting used to the whole sister thing was going to be chore).

         As the horses slowed to a stop I looked out of the carriage’s small window to a sight I will never forget. I stumbled out of the carriage door and gazed in awe upon the Opera Populaire.