Erik
That girl. Who is she? The temptress who has managed to capture my thought and body hole, lured into her sweet, intoxicating song.
Christine Daae. The name that seems to be created by angels. Such a wonderful girl that I have watched since she first came to the opera. She is not a girl anymore, she is a charming woman. Or perhaps a demon, to have me taken with her in such a devoted way.
Ah, the first day she set foot in the opera was one I shall not soon forget. The air seemed to have changed, the very feel of the entire opera was lighter. As I pondered from my box, silently, not making any sound for fear of being heard by the cast, my eye was immediately drawn to this young maiden.
She was still young then, or younger, perhaps, and as I prowled around the opera I could see the amazement in her face. Oh, how I longed that it should be I, I showing her these marvelous delights around the opera.
I shan't forget the first time I heard hear sing, oh, no. Never. That day was perhaps one of the most marvelous of my life. Christine had been previously talking with the ballet girls. I had been eavesdropping, naturally, and had come up with quite a good idea.
Christine had been counting on her father to send her an angel from heaven to teach her how to sing. She was counting on it and had apparently been discouraged.
"Well," thought I, "I could teach her to sing. She wouldn't see me, of course, but I would hide in her walls." I thought this was practically ideal, for she would get her angel, and I would get the privilege of seeing her every day.
Then, she sang for her ballet girls. My heart nearly burst. She was perfect. Voice of an angel, however not exactly trained yet.
I burned with desire to teach her, and followed her throughout the day hoping to manage to whisper something to her. I thought how I could get her to sing, and be recognized. I would create a diversion, yes...
I finally found her alone for a moment, lacing up her slippers.
"Sing..." I breathed, in no more than a faint whisper.
She turned around once, and, concluding no one was there, went back to the task at hand.
"Sing..." I said, again, quietly.
"Who's there?" she asked, I could hear the fear in her voice. It pleasured me.
"Sing..."
She turned and fled the room, heading to rehearsals. I, on the other hand, ran up to the balcony and began my work untying the ropes from the backdrop. That blasted Buquet fool wasn't even there.
Finally, I managed to undo the backdrop, sending it flying to the ground with a loud bang. I immediately proceeded to one of my spots, where I could watch and hear without being seen. A moment after I had concealed myself, that blasted Buquet fool jogged past me, and called down that no one had been up there and these things happen.
Imbicile.
Much to my delight, Carlotta stomped off stage in a fury. The managers appeared distraught, as usual. Then one of the ballet girls came forth and volunteered Christine. She tried to deny.
"Sing..."
She appeared to have heard me, for she looked around and stood in the middle of the stage. And she sang. It was beautiful, as I had expected.
Immediately, the managers rushed to get her a dressing room and declared she would be an understudy. They told her she needed voice lessons, and she nodded amiably to everything, obviously overwhelmed.
I stood behind the mirror, the one way mirror, so I could observe her. She was just sitting and staring at the wall, taking in everything that had happened.
I dared not to speak for a few minutes, but eventually I said, "Bravissimi."
She jumped with quite I start I immediately started to feel guilty about frightening her so.
"It's you! Who's there? Where are you?"
My heart leaped. She was talking to me! Me! Although she did not know who I was, it warmed me with such sensation...
"I am inside your mind...Christine...Christine...I am your Angel of Music..."
She turned around frantically and the seemed to accept the fact that I was not physically there with her.
"You...are the Angel of Music?"
"Yes."
"Why have you come here?"
"I am going to teach you to sing, naturally. It is no coincidence that La Carlotta was in a rage today."
The months that followed were delightful. I got the joy of seeing Christine everyday, and it because my habit to follow her around the whole of the opera. It was addictive, I couldn't resist staying away.
Eventually, the managers changed, and by that point Christine could bring down the house. She was glorious, simply, and I knew it was time for me to reveal her talent.
I dropped another backdrop. La Carlotta, as predicted, went into a rage. That blasted fool Buquet did the exact same thing as last time.
Christine stood up, shaking visibly, and I could relate to her. I peered down at her eagerly, waiting momentously for her to open her mouth and emit the most beautiful sound heard to man.
She started off, voice wavering slightly, but she continued to improve.
"Mademoiselle, you are our new prima donna."
I had succeeded.
Ah, the first day she set foot in the opera was one I shall not soon forget. The air seemed to have changed, the very feel of the entire opera was lighter. As I pondered from my box, silently, not making any sound for fear of being heard by the cast, my eye was immediately drawn to this young maiden.
She was still young then, or younger, perhaps, and as I prowled around the opera I could see the amazement in her face. Oh, how I longed that it should be I, I showing her these marvelous delights around the opera.
I shan't forget the first time I heard hear sing, oh, no. Never. That day was perhaps one of the most marvelous of my life. Christine had been previously talking with the ballet girls. I had been eavesdropping, naturally, and had come up with quite a good idea.
Christine had been counting on her father to send her an angel from heaven to teach her how to sing. She was counting on it and had apparently been discouraged.
"Well," thought I, "I could teach her to sing. She wouldn't see me, of course, but I would hide in her walls." I thought this was practically ideal, for she would get her angel, and I would get the privilege of seeing her every day.
Then, she sang for her ballet girls. My heart nearly burst. She was perfect. Voice of an angel, however not exactly trained yet.
I burned with desire to teach her, and followed her throughout the day hoping to manage to whisper something to her. I thought how I could get her to sing, and be recognized. I would create a diversion, yes...
I finally found her alone for a moment, lacing up her slippers.
"Sing..." I breathed, in no more than a faint whisper.
She turned around once, and, concluding no one was there, went back to the task at hand.
"Sing..." I said, again, quietly.
"Who's there?" she asked, I could hear the fear in her voice. It pleasured me.
"Sing..."
She turned and fled the room, heading to rehearsals. I, on the other hand, ran up to the balcony and began my work untying the ropes from the backdrop. That blasted Buquet fool wasn't even there.
Finally, I managed to undo the backdrop, sending it flying to the ground with a loud bang. I immediately proceeded to one of my spots, where I could watch and hear without being seen. A moment after I had concealed myself, that blasted Buquet fool jogged past me, and called down that no one had been up there and these things happen.
Imbicile.
Much to my delight, Carlotta stomped off stage in a fury. The managers appeared distraught, as usual. Then one of the ballet girls came forth and volunteered Christine. She tried to deny.
"Sing..."
She appeared to have heard me, for she looked around and stood in the middle of the stage. And she sang. It was beautiful, as I had expected.
Immediately, the managers rushed to get her a dressing room and declared she would be an understudy. They told her she needed voice lessons, and she nodded amiably to everything, obviously overwhelmed.
I stood behind the mirror, the one way mirror, so I could observe her. She was just sitting and staring at the wall, taking in everything that had happened.
I dared not to speak for a few minutes, but eventually I said, "Bravissimi."
She jumped with quite I start I immediately started to feel guilty about frightening her so.
"It's you! Who's there? Where are you?"
My heart leaped. She was talking to me! Me! Although she did not know who I was, it warmed me with such sensation...
"I am inside your mind...Christine...Christine...I am your Angel of Music..."
She turned around frantically and the seemed to accept the fact that I was not physically there with her.
"You...are the Angel of Music?"
"Yes."
"Why have you come here?"
"I am going to teach you to sing, naturally. It is no coincidence that La Carlotta was in a rage today."
The months that followed were delightful. I got the joy of seeing Christine everyday, and it because my habit to follow her around the whole of the opera. It was addictive, I couldn't resist staying away.
Eventually, the managers changed, and by that point Christine could bring down the house. She was glorious, simply, and I knew it was time for me to reveal her talent.
I dropped another backdrop. La Carlotta, as predicted, went into a rage. That blasted fool Buquet did the exact same thing as last time.
Christine stood up, shaking visibly, and I could relate to her. I peered down at her eagerly, waiting momentously for her to open her mouth and emit the most beautiful sound heard to man.
She started off, voice wavering slightly, but she continued to improve.
"Mademoiselle, you are our new prima donna."
I had succeeded.
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