Conversations with Erik Another PhanPhiction

Christine sat in her dressing room waiting to go on for the first time. What had led up to this moment was extraordinary. The Angel of Music had given her this gift, and so much more, over the past three months, love of music bonded them; forever. She and her father had loved music he had taught her to sing, but since he had died, ten years ago, she hadn’t felt she sang beautifully, but now she knew it. The Angel came, and with her father’s promise being fulfilled, she reflected on the past three months.

Christine arrived in her dressing room, aside from the antique gold mirror, the rose-red wallpaper was very quaint. The dressing table and chair were made of Mahogany but were plain. The red and gold Persian rug matched the room and looked somehow new, even though it had to have been there as long as the furniture and it gave the room a magical feel.

Christine did well at her audition, not well enough to be Prima Donna, that honor belonged to Carlotta, who as of yet, hadn’t acknowledged her, but would soon. The managers thought she was good enough to have her own room, so she had her dream. Her singing, saddened her, for it was something she’d shared with her father, oh so long ago… Perhaps the managers had sensed her sadness, and so did the form behind the mirror.

Though he looked just like a smudge on the mirror’s surface, Erik, otherwise known as the Opera Ghost, heard a beautiful voice, without strength. The light in her eyes had long since gone out, but something had made her audition, a glimmer of emotional strength. If he could unlock her strength, her beautiful voice would last all eternity. As he looked at her with her curly blonde hair, and blue eyes gave him a thought. As he traveled with the Romoni, he had heard the story of Little Lottie, who had been visited by the Angel of Music, who was said to bestow the gift of music on anyone he chose. Since the women before him reminded him of Little Lottie, he supposed it could work, for he had a beautifully inhuman voice. He looked inhuman, or at least like a dead human, so he’d been told, but this wouldn’t stop him from helping her pursue her dream… if only he had one.

If only he could find her name. He began to walk his secret passages in the Opera House and heard as if it came from nowhere “Who is this Christine Daae?” He would try and see if this was her name.

As the light faded from the sky, Christine went to her dorm, with the other singers. It was nicer than she’d expected. The beds were large, with plenty of space for all her belongings, not that she had many, for she had been poor. She let her hopes guide her to sleep and were soon in dreams.

In rehearsal, Christine was singing, apparently too quietly, as she was informed by the chorus director.
“Maybe she’s whispering because she can’t sing!” pronounced Carlotta, in her snobbish voice.
“I can sing, my father taught me… before he died”
“Oh is that why you brought rags, are you Cinderella?” Corrlotta taunted
Christine replied, “I am if I worked very hard to be here” She added “And I try to be as nice as her”
“Why should I have to sing with a filthy beggar!” Carlotta hissed.

Christine went back to her dressing room feeling very lonely. As if in reply to her dismay she heard a voice. “I could hear you Christine,” said a voice.
“Who are you?” she inquired.
“The Angel of Music,” said the voice. The smile was the most joyous Erik had ever seen.
“Oh you came! Just as Father promised!” “He had a violin... “ Christine didn’t know why she had said that.
“He plays well,” said the Angel. “I sang to his violin all the time, singing reminds me too much of him”
“He loves that you decided to come to the Paris Opera House to sing,” Erik said trying to coax her.
“I love singing more than anything in the world” proclaimed Christine
“But you’re not proud of it?” The Angel questioned.
“I am very” Christine replied shyly.
“I’m here because your Father’s proud of you, and from me you will learn to sing like the confident Prima Donna I know you are!”
“Thank you-”
“Carlotta is arrogant confidence is different” Erik assured her, being a genius, knew the question she was about to ask.

As Christine sang her scales, Erk listened in rapture, she could hit every note, and her breath ran out, but hitting them was glorious. “You can hit all the notes I can, Can we work on sustaining your tone quality?”
“Yes, of course” Christine answered polity.
“ooooooooooooh, aaaaaaaaaaaaaaauh, eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeey, iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiI, uuuuuuuuuoo”
“You are improving quickley,” praised Erik
“My father used to tell me that all the time,” Christine almost whispered.
“He means it,” comforted Erik.
“My greatest joy in life was singing while he played his violin,” Christine continued.
“Now it brings back too manny memories that can’t happen again,” observed Erik.
He could see Christine nod sadly through the mirror.
“What’s your happiest memory of your Father?” Erik asked
“We baked a chocolate cake together for my birthday, We didn’t usually have money for chocolate, but he had saved up all his tips from playing in the streets of towns, we passed through, and the Farmer’s wife who’s barn we were staying in, let us use her oven.”
“That made your voice sound higher and lighter use that happiness when you sing.” Erik suggested.
So they sang L'amour est un oiseau rebelle from Carmen with the Angel of Music sounding as if he were a chorus of both men and women for Erik was a ventriloquist and could though his voice, in all directions and could sing multiple pitches at the same time. He related to what Carmon sang, for he to longed for romantic love like Carmen.
“Wasn’t that fun?” Erik asked.
“Yes!” laughed Christine. “I felt as id I were singing with my father.”
“That’s how you should feel when we sing, for your father sent me. Replied, the Angel of Music.
As Christine lay in bed that night, she thought she could feel her father’s love through the Angel of Music, her friend.
Christine was lonely with her secret. No one else in the Opera knew the Swedish legend of The Angel of Music, and if anyone heard her talking to someone who wasn’t physically there… If only she could talk to her childhood friend Raoul de Changy, whom she had met when he had run into the sea to fetch her red scarf! He had loved Daddy Daae’s stories as much as she did, and he’d be delighted to find out her father had kept his promise! But she didn’t know where Raoul was or if she would ever see him again, for he was a member of the Bourgeoisie, and she was not. She was happy when she got back to her dressing room and heard her Angel’s voice.
“Ready to practice?’ Erik said.
“I’ve missed you,” said Christine.
Erik’s heart fluttered. She loved him!
So they sang scales together with happiness. After they were done with vocal exercises, Christine said, “ I never got to say “Goodbye” to my father, Madame Valerius, sent me out for a walk, and when I came back he had died… I don’t even remember telling him “I love you” before I went out.”
“We forget things if we do them everyday” comforted Erik.
“Still it bothers me,” replied Christine. “I remember this old folk song I used to sing with him, Can we sing it together?’
“Of course,” said the Angel of Music.
Morsgrisar är vi allihopa was sung so, at last Christine had someone to take care of her again!
Christine slept well that night. At rehearsals, she sang more boldly, surprising La Carrlotta. She came into her dressing room smiling, her tone quality beautifully perfect!
“Christmas is so so different without Father, and here I am in a new home…” Christine's voice quivered.
“What traditions did you and your Father have?’ asked Erik.
“We would walk from House to house singing carols” answered Christine.
Oh, how Erik wished he could walk through Paris and sing carols with her it sounded so romantic!
Carol of the Bells is what they sang together that night It’s complex harmonies perfect for the two talented singers.
“I want you to sing the role of Marguerite at the Gala for the retiring Mangers.” The Angel proclaimed. “I can get you ready in two weeks”
“But Carlotta is singing that part”
“Don’t fret my dear those who are not pure of heart don’t deserve the part, God Will make sure of it.”
“I don't think I can” Said Christine.
“You can try,” said the Angel of Music.
She sang The Jewel Song from Faust remembering how her Father thought she was the most beautiful girl in the world!
“Your Father would be proud of you.” said Erik.
“I know he his because you are proud of me.” smiled Christine.
Erik’s heart swelled. His love would carry her career far beyond the stars!

Dedicated to the memory of my Dad