Hybristophilia (Phantom of the Opera x Reader)

1.3

My heart skips a beat and I can't surpress a smile, "Daae? The violinist?" Christine pauses for a moment before sighing, "My father." "That's super cool! I've looked up to your father for years! I-" I realize my violin case is still strapped to my back. Even though my coat was over the case, it may still have gotten wet during the storm. I frantically pull the strap over my shoulder and lay it down on the floor, opening it. When I see that the water hadn't gotten inside, I let out a deep sigh of relief. "You play violin?" Christine peeks over my shoulder, her look full of wonder. "Yeah, I've been playing since I was seven." A bright smile spreads across Christine's face, "That's wonderful! I don't personally know any other female musicians. May I ask why you're dressed in men's clothing?" "Huh?" I look down, almost as if I had forgotten what I was wearing. "Oh, yeah. I dressed like this so I could travel without being hassled by strangers." She nods in understanding before repeating, "What is your name?" "Right, sorry," I pause, not knowing if I should tell the truth or not. I decide it can't hurt, "(Y/N) (L/N)." She looks surprised, "Like the doctors?" I nod, unsure if I can really trust her with that information. "Please don't tell anyone," I look her straight in the eyes. "I promise," she replies, and I could see she means it.

"I apologise, but I must get going. We are rehearsing Hannibal and I cannot be late," she turns and begins hurrying up the large staircase. "You can use my dressing room to dry off!" I thank her and ask one of the women for directions to Christine's dressing room. I make my way there and put my belongings down, drying my clothes as best as I could. I decide not to borrow Christine's clothes because I'd not only feel bad, but I prefer my own clothes anyway. I take a look at myself in the mirror and pout. I don't really like the way this looks. I reach up and fix my hair, letting it fall to my shoulders, and then replace my hat on top. I smirk and wink at myself in the mirror. I am the most fashionable person in Paris, if I do say so myself.

I stretch and exit Christine's room, looking around the halls for a little bit. Maybe this could be my shot at becoming a real musician! I may be able to fulfill my dream, and I wouldn't mind it being here. After all, I've already met one nice person. Oh, Christine! I should go watch the rehearsal!

I walk like a man with a plan, but I really have no plan. I have no idea where I'm going. I stop a woman walking by and ask her where the stage is and she kindly gives me the directions. I follow them and find myself in a large room with a magnificient chandelier. I probably look stupid from wonder right now, but I'm sure no one would blame me. The whole room is so bright and flashy, which compliments the costumes of the actors and actresses on stage. A man, who I assume is playing Hannibal, is singing, "Sad to return to find the land we love threatened once more by Roma's far-reaching grasp." Another man comes on stage and begins reprimanding "Hannibal" for his pronounciation of "Rome." He sings again, but puts emphasis on "Rome" in a sassy way. His voice is actually really good, but his solo ends quickly. I stand there and watch as the act comes to and end, but "Hannibal" fails to mount the elephant prop and has to improvise. I laugh. This is far more entertaining than I thought. I have never been to an opera before, but I know I'm going to love it here if they allow me to stay.

The man that reprimanded "Hannibal" welcomes two other men on stage and introdues them. I quickly get the message. I just got here and they're already changing things. Well, at least I won't be the only newbie around. A women dressed in all black hits her cane against the stage and I hear the name "Christine Daae" come from her mouth. I see the brunette from earlier, dressed as a dancer. This gave me a rather warm feeling, knowing this girl and I were both underappreciated and it would be fun to get to know her better.

The manager announces his retirement, but no one seems to be surprised. He then introduces the lead soprano, Carlotta, and the guy who is playing Hannibal, Piangi. Carlotta steps forward to sing for the new managers. I lean against a wall, waiting to hear how great she supposedly is. She begins the aria, and I immediately question why she is the lead. Her voice is grating and incredibly unpleasant, but she seems to think she is the best singer to ever exist. I see the maids cover their ears and I consider doing the same. "Salope idiote," I mock, just before a backdrop falls on stage. Is that supposed to happen? The screams from the ballet girls confirmed that, no, it is not supposed to happen. One small blonde ballet girl runs to the side of the stage, saying "He's here, the Phantom of the Opera!" Okay, I've never seen an opera before, so I'm not exactly sure if this is scripted or not. I mentally beg for Christine to be by my side and help me understand everything that's going on.

The manager began demanding for Buquet, the stage hand, to come to the stage and explain what happened. Buquet looked complete innocent, claiming "Please monsieur don't look at me! As God's my witness, I was not at my post. Please monsieur there's no one there: and if there is, well then, it must be a ghost!" Everyone on stage is freaking out, so the new managers try to take control. "Mademoiselle, please! These things do happen." Carlotta, infuriated, goes on a rant about how the managers need to stop these things from happening and then storms off the stage, followed by Piangi, who I think is her lover. The manager decides to leave everything to the new managers and claims he will be in Frankfurt. Wow, this place is full of savages.

Madame Giry, as I heard the woman dressed in black called, steps toward the managers, "I have a message, sir, from the Opera Ghost." The managers look so done with this already, almost as if they already regret taking this job. "He merely welcomes you to his opera house and commands you to continue to leave Box Five empty for his use and reminds you that his salary is due. Monsieur Lefevre paid him twenty thousand francs a month. Perhaps you can afford more, with the Vicomte de Chagny as your patron." What is going on?!?

The managers ask for Carlotta's understudy, only to find out she has none. How could you not have an understudy?? This place seems truly chaotic. The little, blonde ballet girl chimed in, "Christine Daae could sing it, sir." The managers seem doubtful, but they give in as Madame Giry states that Christine has been taking lessons from a "great teacher." I feel bad for Christine, being forced under the spotlight like this, but this may be good for her. For the short amount of time I've known her, I'm already rooting for her.

The aria begins again, but Christine is trembling. She begins to sing, her voice quiet and shaky. She then tries to retreat, but Madame Giry hits her cane against the stage and Christine continues. Her shoulders relax first, then her whole body as she begins to sing louder and more confidently. My jaw drops at her voice. It sounds like she's been practicing for years. So much for being in the underappreciated club together.

The managers are filled with life again and declare Christine as the new lead. I clap for her and she looks over, smiling brightly when she realizes it's me. The cast exists the stage and I run over to her, "Christine! Your voice is beautiful! Why were you so nervous?" She thinks for a moment for replying, "I guess it's because I've never sang for anyone else like that before." Anyone else? I push her wording aside, "I'm so proud of you! Not that we really know each other...but I really want to be your friend, maybe, if that's okay?" I mentally cursed myself for my awkwardness, but she completely understood. "Of course!"

I fetched my violin from Christine's room, but we then have to part ways after that because she has to move her belongings into a new room and I have to meet the managers to discuss my audition for the orchestra. I make sure to warm up first, running through the solo I'm planning on auditioning with. Happy with how it sounds, I go and find the managers in their office, but they are visibly confused about my presence. "Mademoiselle, may I ask why you were not with the others in the rehearsal?" I stumble for the right thing to say, "Y-yes, my apologies. I am new here and I would like to audition to play in the orchestra." They exchanged a look of unsureness. It's unusual for a woman to play in an orchestra with men, since women are supposed to play in all-women orchestras. "I'm sure you will be pleased with what you hear," I try to get my confidence up, but it only works a little bit. Monsieur Firmin waves his hand toward me, "Well, let's hear it, then."