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Christine looked at the mirror in front of her. It was beautiful and ornate and just the kind of thing they would have in the Opera house. The frame was golden with a few glittering gemstones on it and looked somewhat aged but this just added to the charm. In the top left, it was slightly cracked. The spindly lines reached out from there, slightly distorting her view of herself. The mirror also didn’t completely reflect her. It seemed as though there was something – or rather nothing – behind it. Darkness that stretched out for as long as the reflected room reached.
Raoul knocked on the door, snapping her out of her daze.
“Christine‽” He called.
“Oh, Raoul! Come in.” She replied, pleasantly surprised.
He opened the door and walked in. His flawlessly styled golden hair framed his face perfectly and his eyes sparkled with both warmth and mischief.
“There is a small party!” Raoul said excitedly. “Do you want to come? After such a wonderful performance of Elissa in Hannibal you deserve a break. I’ve told everyone that you are coming with me, Little Lotte!”
“Raoul, you know I can’t come. The Angel of Music is very strict and he says I must rest after a performance.”
“Your teacher is so boring. Just come with me and ignore him for once. What’s the worst that’ll happen?”
“Oh Raoul, you can’t imagine what he would do. You see—”
“That’s enough.You must change, I must get my hat. Two minutes. After which you shall accompany me to the party and we shan’t think of you teacher,” his voice grew mocking and cold, “or as you call him, ‘the Angel of Music’.”
“Things have changed Raoul!”
Raoul walked out, pointedly ignoring her and closing the door in a way that was perhaps slightly more loud and aggressive than necessary. Christine took a deep breath, recovering from his presence. As much as she was fond of him, he certainly liked her more than she liked him. She also didn’t appreciate the way he referred to her Angel of Music. He was wonderful, and to have an earthbound man like Raoul be so disrespectful towards her teacher and Angel was simply unthinkable.
A moment passed and the room filled with a deep, booming voice that, despite entirely engulfing her mind, was soft and warm.
“Insolent boy, this slave of fashion. Basking in your glory.”
“Angel!”
“Look in the mirror, Christine Daaé.”
She followed the instruction without a single thought. She would trust this Angel with anything. As fast as she could, she turned to face the ornate mirror that she had been looking into just a few minutes ago and gasped. In the deepness of the mirror, looking at her was a man – or was it her Angel?
He was tall and strongly built, wearing a black cloak with a dramatic black hat upon his head. The most striking thing about him was the white mask which covered the left side of his face. It started on the right of his forehead, going downwards and covering his nose. The edge of the mask went to the left of his lips, allowing them to be entirely unobscured. On his lips Christine could see what was perhaps the reason he did wear a mask. There was some scarring on them and they were raised so perhaps he had gotten into an accident which had caused his face to look bad enough for him to have to wear this mask. Despite the mask – or perhaps the mask added to the mystery – he looked very handsome.
“Are you the Angel of Music?” Christine whispered softly.
“That is right.” The booming voice had become concentrated around the mirror now.
Christine put her hand upon the mirror. “How are you in the mirror?”
“Sweet child of music, you know I cannot answer this question. Be glad you can see me today. Be happy that it is not just my voice. I thought you deserved a reward for your beautiful performance today and so now you know who is teaching you.”
“Please Angel, can you take the hat off so I can see you better.”
“Of course. Though you shall never see me without my mask. I promise that you will be far better off for it.”
“Of course.”
He nodded and then removed his hat, meaning Christine was able to see his dark slicked back hair beneath it.
She was interrupted again by a knock on the door.
“That must be Raoul. He will want me to go to the party.”
The Angel’s voice became softer, “Please don’t go. I have just met you properly and we have much to do.”
“Go away Raoul!” Christine cried. “I don’t want to go to this party. Give me a break! I am tired after the opera.”
Raoul’s voice was heard through the door. “I am not leaving without you for I have said you will come.”
“Go away Raoul. I’ve already told you twice that I don’t want to go to this party.”
“And I’ve already told you that you are coming to the party regardless of what you want.”
Now that Christine thought about it, his voice grated on her nerves. He grated on her nerves. Not like this Angel. He was perfect in every way. It was also distressing that Raoul thought he could make her go to the party without a second thought.
“Why are you so desperate for me to come?”
“I just want you to be happy.”
“Obviously that’s not the case, otherwise you would let me be happy on my own.”
“Why can’t you just trust me Christine?”
“Becuase when I do then you pull some stunt like this.”
Raoul seemed to leave. The click clack of his formal shoes became quiet and Christine was finally at peace.
“He’s not very nice, is he?” the Angel remarked.
“No, he’s not. And he is planning to propose soon as well.”
Christine fell to her knees, curled up into a fetal position, and began sobbing. It was hopeless. She was a woman in this world which did not care about women in the slightest.
__________
Such a sweet girl. She was so young and naïve. Erik supposed that as long as Christine consented to whatever happened between them everything would be fine and perfectly legal. Christine was a woman as well so that would automatically make any legal claims against him be immediately brushed off. Essentially, as long as Raoul didn’t do anything against him, Christine was his.
The poor girl was sobbing on the floor. Unfortunately he was temporarily stuck behind this mirror so he couldn’t wipe the tears from her charming face. He would have to stop her before she attracted any attention.
“Hush sweetheart. You’ll attract unwanted attention.”
Her wide doe eyes looked at him, brimming with tears, “I understand.”
She shuffled towards the mirror and leant against it. Even through the mirror, he could feel the warmth of her petite body. If only he could convince her to break through this glass. If he convinced her to smash the glass then he would see that he was chained to the wall and surely that would make her sympathise. Then he could convince her to let him do anything.
“Christine, my sweet, there is a way to get me out of here actually. If you smash the mirror, I will be able to make you feel better.”
“Father always said that to break a mirror would bring about seven years of bad luck.”
“What a pity. I suppose I must remain here for another ten years.”
Her wide eyes looked at him and hardened with resolve. “Stand back.”
Erik smirked. She was so easy to manipulate. And so perfect too. Of course the fact that she was a good singer was also a nice thing. When this room beyond the mirror had become her dressing room, his life finally had more hope. He would be able to execute the plan that had landed him here. It was a shame that the previous woman who had this dressing room had been so smart. Christine was smart as well, but not as self-aware.
Christine picked up a chair and beat it against the mirror. It immediately smashed the glass that was separating the pair and for the first time in a very long time, he was able to see light that was not from a small candle.
“Christine!” he cried, looking upon the beautiful girl.
“Oh, my Angel!” She ran towards him and he held out his arms.
The girl leaned into his body without hesitation, perfectly trusting and naïve. She wrapped her arms around him and he could feel the rise and fall of her chest. He could not stop himself from marveling at how she was so perfect for him. So petite and perfectly fitting into his arms. He wondered if she would be perfect in other places– But alas he couldn’t think of that while she was here otherwise he was sure she would become uncomfortable.
__________
He was so warm. Christine felt terribly sorry for the fate that had befallen this poor man: to be shackled to a wall behind a mirror so long. How was he even alive‽
Suddenly Christine heard a banging on the door.
“Christine. Are you decent?”
“Raoul, no. Go away! You know I don’t want to go to your party.”
What would happen if he came in? She was embracing a masked man within a smashed mirror. Would he take pity on her or would he decide that she had been cheating? Either option would be terrible. She tried to push herself off the Angel, but his grip was too strong.
“Please Angel, let me go.” She whispered.
“Trust me Christine.” His warm voice spoke back.
She looked up with scared eyes into her Angel’s all encompassing ones.
“I am going to come in and drag you to the party if necessary. Don't force my hand Christine.” Raoul interrupted their tender moment yet again.
The door handle turned and it opened. As Raoul set eyes on the scene, his face changed from mild irritation to a mixture of fury and horror.
“Who is that?” The man seethed. His eyes were ablaze. Christine had never seen him like this. He looked utterly terrifying.
Christine’s Angel finally let her go. She fell to the floor, not realising that she was being supported by him. As she tried to stand up, her Angel held out his right arm, the unchained one.
“Hello. My name is Erik. Pleased to meet you.”
“Why are you here? Christine is mine.”
“I think you will find that you are mistaken, Viscount Raoul de Chagny.”
“How do you know who I am? Did Christine tell you?”
“I have my ways Monsieur. And it certainly wasn't Christine,” he scoffed, “why would she talk about you when there are far better matters to discuss. Such as yours truly.”
“Christine. I demand that you leave this man.”
Despite her unfortunate place on the floor, for once she wanted to stand up for herself. She managed to pull herself up from the ground without much difficulty.
“You don’t get to tell me what to do, Raoul. You don’t care about me. All you want is the perfect little opera singer to be your wife without caring about me at all. My Angel cares about me far more than you do. He was the one who taught me how to sing like this! I actually love him. You don't love me Raoul. All you love is the idea of me! So for once, be kind to me and leave! For that is all I ask of you.”
“You think that you will be able to last a minute without me? Fine. Try. Because once ‘your Angel’ is done with your body he will grow bored of you. And nobody else will want you. I hope you know, Christine Daaé, that he does not love you. And nobody ever will. And you have thrown away your one chance of happiness. I hope you lament the life that you could have lived when you live on the streets as nothing more than a poorly paid, syphilis ridden prostitute.”
With that, the man who had caused such sadness and anger in Christine’s life finally left. And she knew that he would probably never come back.
“Oh my sweet child. I am so sorry you had to experience that. Would you mind freeing me from this chain, so I can make you feel better.” Her Angel’s (Erik’s?) smooth velvety voice spoke.
“What do you mean by ‘make me feel better’? Because if you truly do what Raoul said you would do, then I don't know how I could survive.”
“Have you no faith in me, Christine? I love you, and even so, I would never let you lose your purity so quickly in our relationship.” Christine tilted her head, so her Angel (Erik?) continued. “It seems as though you have never had anyone truly care for you. It seems as though I am the only person who has ever loved you. Despite how devastating this must feel for you, I have to say that I am privileged to be the person who does love you.”
“Angel, are you sure this is true?” She felt confused. On one hand, she was sure that there must have been at least one other person who loved her. But on the other hand, her Angel (Erik?) hadn’t ever lied to her before. And clearly he knew a lot considering he knew Raoul’s title without her telling him before.
“Please sweet Christine, call me Erik as you know my name now. I am an angel, but I would prefer it for you to call me by my true name. And my love, I would never lie to you. Have I lied to you before?”
Christine shook her head sincerely. “I don’t think so. Okay Erik. I trust you. Tell me how to cut you out of your chain.”
__________
She was so easy to manipulate! Of course he was no angel! Who could possibly believe that? He almost didn't want her anymore.
…
…
…
Ha! Despite her stupidity, of course he wanted her.
“Erik? How do I cut you out?” Christine’s sweet, melodic voice spoke.
He was jolted out of his thoughts. “Do you have anything sharp?”
“No… I don't think so.”
“I see–”
“Actually…”
“Yes love?”
“I might be able to pick the lock on the cuff. Where it’s attached to your hand.”
Perfect. She was perfect.
“That sounds like a wonderful idea. I didn't know you could pick locks, how did you learn?”
She pulled out a pin from her hair, pointedly ignoring the question. Her soft hands clasped around his wrist as she inserted the pin into the keyhole. A click. He was free!
It had been years since he had been locked up behind this mirror, his captor thinking that he wouldn't be able to escape and that he would simply perish. Little did Antoinette Giry know that he was far more competent than that. He could easily pick the lock of the handcuff, and after having done so, he was free to explore the cavern under the Palais Garnier which, after some searching, he found led to the rumoured catacombs that were beneath all of Paris. Most of the time however, he remained within the walls of the Palais Garnier as he could enjoy the operas for free as well as have fun threatening the managers of the building.
It was rather gratifying when he also set eyes on the beautiful maiden known to the rest of the world as Christine Daaé. She was known to him as his. To earn her trust, he had simply cuffed himself to the place where he was originally placed. He could pick the lock if it went badly after all. Although it had not gone badly in the slightest; if anything, this was the best possible scenario. Raoul was a brilliant unwitting accomplice; he made Christine believe she was alone without knowing what that could do for him.
“Christine, why will you not tell me how you learned to pick locks? Did someone hurt you? Was it that bastard, Raoul?”
She began sobbing again and this time he was able to go to her and scoop her into his arms.
“My sweet Christine. Don’t worry. I’m here now.”
“Yes– you’re right–” she hiccupped, “it was Raoul– he– he– locked me– in a room– on my own– for– for– a week.”
“That pig.”
She giggled a little.
“Come on. Let me take you somewhere safe.”
“No. Stay here.”
“If my lady commands it.”
He laid her down on the chaise so she could rest. Moments after he did so, the sweet child fell asleep.
Erik could barely resist her body: her smooth, white legs; her long, dark hair; her thin nightdress covering up most of her.
It was a shame that the nightdress was there at all. It wouldn’t hurt to just lift up the hem, would it? And so his delicate fingers reached under her dress, revealing far more of her legs. He heard a soft sigh come from Christine and pulled away quickly. It would be a horrible shame if after all this time, the perfect girl left her over something as small as consent.
__________
Meg had no idea where Christine was. She was supposed to be at the party celebrating her success in Hannibal. Raoul hadn’t shown up either. Perhaps they were together. Perhaps they were together. It was a shame considering how much Meg loved Christine. She loved her more than a girl of her class should love another girl. Maybe she should go find Christine in her dressing room.
__________
When Christine woke up, she was greeted to the sight of the man who had saved her from succumbing to a fate with Raoul. She gave him a kiss on the neck in thanks. His bottomless eyes stared at her.
“Why did you do that?”
“Thank you for yesterday.” She simply said, with a slight nod.
“I want to show you my home today.”
“But the opera– I’m sure they will be looking for me.”
“Why do you care? They only like your voice, not you. Not how I love you.”
“I guess so. But I know Meg cares about me.”
“She doesn’t. I thought you knew that I am the only one who cares for you truly. It is all an act.”
“Meg isn’t like that. You don’t know her like I do. Let me say goodbye to her at least.”
“I suppose you can say goodbye to Meg. But then I must insist you come with me. It is dangerous for me to stay up here any longer than that. The people who caught me might come after me again and lock me up. In a far worse place than I was in last time.”
Christine nodded. That made sense.
“Do you want me to go on my own? I assume that you don't want anyone to see you.”
“I think you will find that you are in luck.”
“What do you mean?”
Erik gave her a knowing look and there was a knock on the door.
“That’s not Meg, is it?”
“Why don’t you open the door and find out.”
And so, Christine opened the door. Standing behind it was the girl in question.
“Meg! Come in. I wanted to have a word with you.”
Meg stepped through the door and it slammed behind her. She whipped her head round and her eyes widened as she saw Christine’s Angel.
“Sit down Meg.” Christine began. “I wanted to say goodbye—”
“What do you mean? You can’t leave me here with the rest of the chorus girls. You know what they're like!”
“Meg– I’m sorry. It’s just–”
“It’s Raoul isn’t it‽”
“Don't you dare mention him! All that man has brought me is sadness and misery.”
“Oh, so you're just going to run off because you're too cowardly to stay.”
Meg’s voice cracked. She was beginning to become emotional now.
“No! Of course not. I’ve met this man.” She gestured towards Erik. “I love him, Meg. He’s the only person who actually cares about me.”
“That’s utter nonsense! Christine, I care about you!”
“I know you do. But I can’t just stay for you. Not when there is so much out there for me.”
“Christine, don't you get it? I love you. I always have. So please, just this once. Stay!” Meg cried, her last attempt to stop her from leaving. She fell to the floor, tears streaming out of her eyes.
__________
Oh no. This couldn’t be happening now. Not after the years he had waited for Christine. No-one would stand in their way. Not least a girl. He would just have to manipulate his Christine a little more.
“Christine, you can’t believe her. She’s a woman. She might love you, yes, but that is platonic. I love you more than anyone does. Why would you stay with her when you can go with me? Move on from this chapter of your life. Come on Christine. Surely you know what’s best for you.”
Both girls looked up to him from the ground, tears leaving both of their eyes. His Christine looked torn. Her eyes were glancing between Meg and him, as if trying to decide who she would rather be with. Finally Christine stood up.
“I— I don't know.”
He inhaled sharply. How come this girl was just as good at manipulating Christine as he was. It was an art he had been perfecting for all fifty-one years of his life. He was perfect for her.
“Christine, I can’t teach you to sing if you don't come with me.”
“Shut up Erik,” the girl had the audacity to say.
It would really be a shame to kill that Meg girl. She was reasonably pretty, although her dancing was awful.
“Erik?” Meg said. “You aren’t that Erik, are you? Christine, you need to get away from him now!”
“What?” Christine’s sweet, melodic, voice asked.
“You know about the Phantom of the Opera, don't you? The murderer. That’s him. Christine get away from him.”
Meg had tensed up. Well, now she knew, Erik supposed it would be necessary to kill her. And maybe Christine wouldn't come with him with free will.
He lunged forwards, grabbing her body and picking the light girl up. She struggled in his arms, sharply contrasting to how she had behaved earlier.
“Come on then, little Lotte. We need to go now.”
“NO!” Both Christine and Meg screamed.
Meg leaped towards him, tackling him to the ground.
“You don't get to take away the love of my life.”
She leaned forwards onto him and pushed his shoulders to the ground. His Christine had fallen to the side. That might be a problem. Christine scrambled to her feet and clambered on top of him, this time grasping his neck in her hands.
“Two girls on top of me. Am I in heaven?”
The world faded to black.
__________
“Fucking creep” Meg spat. “Hopefully you’re in Hell now.”
“Oh Meg! You can't say such things! But— Meg—” Christine sobbed into her arms and tried to breathe. “Is what you said about loving me true?”
“Yes. I understand if you don't want me. I'm a girl after all. But I’m glad you're safe.”
“Oh Meg—” she sobbed, “I don't know. I care about you so much. In fact, you're the only person I do care about. Particularly after Raoul… Let’s not discuss him.”
“That’s okay Christine. As long as you are fine with me in your life.”
__________
3 month later
“Meg, where are you‽” Christine shouted joyfully.
It felt nice to act like children sometimes. Playing a game of hide and seek across the entire Palais Garnier was certainly childish enough to annoy the managers of the Opera house. Although not so much that she was stopped from becoming the Prima Donna after Carlotta left.
She heard a giggling noise from a cupboard.
“Meg! I think I know where you are.”
She stalked over to the cupboard and opened the door. Meg’s mischievous eyes looked back at her.
“You’re not very good at hiding.” Christine remarked.
“Well there’s a reason I am in here. It’s to do with the fact that it’s big enough to fit the both of us in here comfortably.” Meg smirked.
“Oh I see.”
Christine stepped into the cupboard and closed the door behind her. She traced one hand up to Meg’s jaw and the other to her neck, pulling her towards Christine. The hand on Meg’s neck moved to her waist and her lips parted. She leaned forwards and her heart skipped a beat. Meg’s eyes fluttered closed as she closed the gap between their lips. Christine felt a pair of hands tangle through her curly hair. Meg whimpered slightly but pulled Christine closer towards her, taking charge. She pushed Christine against the back wall of the cupboard which made quite a loud noise.
The door opened.
“Girls. I don't have a problem with the two of you together, but some might. Perhaps you shouldn't kiss each other in a cupboard before the performance.” Stated Antoinette Giry.
She promptly closed the door again at the flushed look on the two girls’ faces which caused Christine and Meg to giggle.
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”