The Angel Of Music - |P.O.T.O.|

Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again

As the Masquerade ball was evidently over, the managers reunited to their office with Raoul, Carlotta and Piangi to discuss the matter: how in the great heavens would they stop this infernal Opera Ghost? There was agry shouting, drama, and a considerable amount of confusion and fright. They simply had no idea of what to do, or even where to begin. This misterious figure was a clue to everyone.

— Monsieur Raoul. — Madame Giry knocked the door and called the man. — May I speek with you in private, monsieur?

— Yes, of course. — He nodded, following her steps.

They walked along some strange corridors, ones that the young Vicomte had never walked before, to finally arrive to a dark, half gothic-decorated room. It was Antoinette Giry's bedroom.

— Monsieur, — The lady started. — I have something to tell you.

She lighted up a lamp and moved torwards a darkened wood mobile, full of letters, a ballet sneaker and some portraits. Raoul followed her movements with his eyes and paid attention to all her next words.

— It was years ago. There was a traveling fair in the city. Gypsies. I was very young, — The woman sighed. — studying to be a ballerina. One of many living in the dormitories of the Opera House. I saw him, so brutaly injured, so inocent. So undesirving of that pain. I hid him from the world and its cruelties. — A tear droped from her eyes by the memories which came to her mind. — He has own nothing else since then, exept this Opera House. It was his playground and... now his artistic domain. He's a genious! He's a-an architecture designer, he's a composer, and a... magician! — Even she couldn't believe her own words. — A genious, monsieur!

— Clearly, Madame Giry. — The blonde man took a deep breath. — But genious has turned to madness.

The old lady glanced down, wiping her tears. With the proofs of his thoughts about this Phantom being only a man, and therefore humanly catchable, he headed back to the managers office, explaining what he discovered and begining to scheme his plan.

— Bring us Miss Daaé, if you please! — The Vicomte asked to an actor, who was spying and listening to everything from behind the door, promptly fulfilling the man's orders for his own sake.

As a good amount of time past, there was heard a knock on the door.

— Raoul? — The sweet girl entered the room. — What is going on?

— Christine, we have a task for you.

The fancy man explained his plan to the miss, step by step. Basically, she would act in her role for Don Juan Triumphant, but she would also be the bait of the scheme, for when the "not so misterious anymore" Phantom stepped on the stage, he would be surrounded by legions of guards. Guards above, guards on the sides, guards on the backstage, guards among the audience. This, as Raoul liked to think, would be his glorious defeat.

Opposing to their will, Christine did not like it. First, the idea of serving as a bait wasn't pleasing at all. And second... she wouldn't be able to betray him. Betray her Master, her friend. She wouldn't turn her back to a person who helped her through her most needy moments. Who helped her achive exelence in what she loved most and showed her so much beauty. Who made her feel complete.

— But you must!

— Raoul, I don't have the courage to! — She began to shake, so nervous of that subtle pressure. — I-I just can't.

Christine rushed to the door and exited the office, leaving the schemers with her final answer. She wouldn't stop them, for there was nothing she could try to do. Yet, she wasn't able to betray the man she admired and beloved the most. And the woman would never think of doing it. So she came back to her bed very unpleased, and tried to rest from that unusual day, just as everyone else.