Your Voice

Chapter 6

Christine
3 Years Later

I sigh as I put down the daily paper.
"No jobs, not a single thing!" I mumble to myself, rubbing my throbbing temple in circles. "Raoul, darling, couldn't you find some work?" I plead as sweetly as possible.

"Ah Christine, why would I? I am the Vicomte de Chagny! Darling, we have enough money." Says a - quite surprisingly - sober Raoul. I shut my eyes; I can never break down that wall of ego that is, very annoyingly, doing nothing but making our situation worse. Giving up for the day, I decide to check on Gustave in his room. As usual, instead of playing with toy planes or miniature soldiers, I find him at the piano surrounded by pieces of paper. Just like his father, I think to myself and my heart breaks. A silent tears falls from my eye as I recall the night he first revealed himself to me: I had just sung Think of Me, I followed him through the mirror to his lair, where I fell asleep and was awoken by him at the piano, creating masterpieces. The parallels are uncanny.

"Mother!" My son notices me by the door. "Come and listen to this!"
He expertly plays a melody I don't think even most professional musicians can master, and I have to remind myself that he's only a decade old.
"That's very nice, dear." I smile weakly.
"I thought you'd like it. I made it to sound like the music on Coney Island. It's getting pretty popular now, especially with Fantasma running all year!" His eyes light up and I listen to him adorably go on about America, and how he longed to visit Fantasma once more.
"They're looking for a special singer for their season finale, and I thought maybe, just maybe, you could sing! Please, mother dear, it's been ages since I last watched you perform!"

"Alright darling," I say, energized by the excitement of finally finding a job, and I plant a kiss on his forehead. "Pack your things; we're going to America."

"Why so?" Raoul enters the room confused. "A waste of money-"
"Father! Mother's going to sing at Fantasma on Coney Island!"
"Very well. I'll write to the owner of the show, and request that he pay the travel fares."
"Thank you, darling." I smile a genuine smile at Raoul, and, for the first time in forever, he smiles back.

Erik

Ten long years
Living a mere facade of life
Ten long years
Wasting my time on smoke and noise
In my mind, I hear melodies pure and unearthly
But I find I can't give them a voice
Without you...
My Christine
My Christine
Lost and gone
Lost and gone
The day starts, the day ends
time crawls by
Night steals in, pacing the floor
The moments creep, yet I can't bear to sleep
Till I hear you sing
And weeks pass, and months pass;
seasons fly
Still you don't walk through my door
And in a haze, I count the silent days
Till I hear you sing once more
And sometimes, at nighttime, I dream that you are there
But wake, holding nothing but the empty air
And years come, and years go, time runs dry
Still I ache, down to the core
My broken soul can't be alive and whole
Till I hear you sing once more
And music! Your music! It teases at my ear!
I turn, and it fades away, and you're not here!
Let hopes pass!
Let dreams pass!
Let them die!
Without you, what are they for?
I'll always feel no more than halfway real
Till I hear you sing once more!

I finish the song with tears streaming down my face. My room - the candlelit space that contains my bed and musical instruments leaning against walls plastered with drawings of Christine - feels cold and empty; Miss Daae (my Angel of Music) is not here with me. And yet, she is in the room above mine - yes, the Paris Songbird has come to perform at "Mr Y"'s Fantasma. I can recall the rush of hope that leapt in me when I signed the contract hidden under the name of Mr Y, allowing Christine to come to me.