Work Text:
Felix watched his home's newest invaders with a mixture of curiosity and annoyance. They were bustling about, setting up their stage and props. It was all some sort of stunt, apparently—they were putting together an opera about a "phantom" in a haunted castle. Felix almost laughed at their sheer audacity, but his interest was piqued enough that he'd stayed his hand. It had been centuries since he'd seen an opera, after all.
So when rehearsals began, Felix kept himself invisible and watched from a distance so people wouldn't accidentally walk through him. It quickly became apparent that operas had changed a lot since his death. The work wasn't entirely in song, and the language was much different from what he was used to. Despite that, the music still managed to capture his attention. Powerful and dramatic, it moved his cold, unbeating heart.
The star of the show, a woman named Dorothea, was clearly gifted. She slipped into her role seamlessly, and her vocal range was impeccable. It could not be easy to sing at the high octaves her part required, and yet she made it look effortless. All in all, Felix was impressed, and he found himself looking forward to seeing the entire show.
When the rehearsals were finished for the day, the backstage crew got to work cleaning up. Felix took that as his cue to leave, but a curious sound reached his ears and brought him to a halt. Who was still singing? It wasn’t one of the actors—they’d all left, and Felix knew what they sounded like by now.
He peeked through a wall into the backstage area, and sure enough, one of the backstage crew was singing one of Dorothea’s songs as she swept the floor. And she was good. Really good. What was she doing back here instead of being up on stage?
“That was lovely, Annie,” remarked another member of the backstage crew, a gentle-looking woman with blond hair.
“Thanks, Mercie," the first woman, Annie, replied. “I can’t hope to match Dorothea, though.”
”I think you could do well on stage if you really tried," said Mercie.
"We've been through this before, Mercie," Annie said tiredly. “It’s one thing to sing in private, but in front of a crowd? No way. I get bad stage fright. And you know I have two left feet. I’d trip and be laughed off the stage before I got a single line in. In fact, I did trip and fall the one and only time I was in a play. I thought I was going to die of embarrassment.”
"That was a long time ago," Mercie pointed out.
"Even so… I can't bear to go through that again."
Mercie hummed sympathetically. "Well, if you ever change your mind, I'll support you all the way."
"I don't think you'll ever have to worry about that, but thank you," said Annie. “Still, even if I'm not part of the performance, I never imagined I’d ever get to work on a production of Phantom. It feels like a dream!”
"Even though this place is supposed to be haunted?" asked Mercie.
"Ugh, don't remind me," Annie moaned. "I'm trying to keep my mind on the show and not the creepy castle it's being held in!"
"Sorry, Annie," said Mercie. "But if there are spirits here, I wonder what they think of the performance?"
"Hopefully they like it enough to not sabotage it," Annie grumbled. "Now let's hurry and finish so we can get out of here! I don't want to be stuck in here when the sun goes down!"
The two got back to work, and Annie started softly singing again as she cleaned. This time, it wasn't one of the opera's songs, but something far more whimsical and strangely intriguing. Something about her voice pulled at Felix in a way Dorothea's hadn't. He'd existed for over eight hundred years and had never felt anything like this. He wanted to hear more.
Was this what the titular Phantom felt about Dorothea's character? It would explain why he passionately begged her to sing for him during their duet. Felix would never stoop to such groveling, but he could understand the sentiment.
All too soon, Annie, Mercie, and the rest of the backstage crew finished their cleanup and began making their way out of the castle. Feeling an unexpected surge of boldness, Felix floated over to Annie and whispered in her ear.
"You should sing more."
Annie jumped several feet and unleashed an ear-piercing shriek. Mercie and several others rushed to her aid and asked her what was wrong. In a panic, she babbled about hearing a voice, but of course, no one else had heard anything. This led to a terrified Annie—or rather Annette, based on how the rest of the stage crew addressed her—to cling to Mercie’s arm and tremble for the rest of the way.
Felix frowned. He hadn’t meant to frighten her that badly. He hoped he hadn’t scared her off for good. He really wanted to hear her sing again. Luckily, his fears proved unfounded when morning arrived and Annette returned with the rest of the cast and crew. She was clearly still shaken, but she seemed determined to continue on despite that.
Felix’s lips quirked into a small smile. He’d definitely be dropping by backstage again.