I Sing For You Alone

[Meluivan Indil]

Disclaimer: Nothing in the Phantom’s world belongs to me. I make no profit from this fic. I am just borrowing the characters for a short time and will return them in good order at a later date.

Author’s Note: This fic is based mostly on the recent Phantom of the Opera movie. It has been a long time since I have seen a live production of the story, so if I make any mistakes in references to the original story please forgive me and correct me. I take great pride in sticking to the particulars, and would hope that you all keep me in line. Now on to the story. This story is rated Teen.

Story Summary: It has been five years since the disaster at the opera house. When the phantom finds a beaten and bruised young woman collapsed on the stage will he learn compassion?

[glow=red,2,300]I Sing For You Alone[/glow]

The Opera Reopens

Antoinette Giry stood alone on the main stage of the newly remodeled Opera Populaire. It had been five years since the disaster that nearly destroyed the structure. Madame Giry had not been back to the opera house in that time. She had been working a smaller house on the outskirts of Paris. But this was her home. It had been since she was a small girl and she would return for the grand reopening. Things would be different this time. She knew not whether he was still residing in the catacombs below the opera house, but even if he did things would be different. Christine was gone. He had no reason to interfere this time. And she would see that no such disaster befell her home again, just as she should have done before.

She turned as she heard the entrance of the hopefuls that would audition for the ballet and chorus. She would choose the dancers, and their new conductor Monsieur Roulet would chose the singers. The owners would choose the rest of the crew.
She could see a few of the girls that she had been working with at the smaller opera house, but other than her Meg there were none from the former cast of this house. But she had not expected to see any old faces that day. There were too many disturbing memories for most.

As the auditions began she noticed a hauntingly beautiful girl standing in the background watching, but not interacting with the others. She crossed over to the girl and looked her up and down. Her attire was old and worn, but kept in good condition. “Which are you auditioning for?” She asked the girl.

The girl looked down to the stage floor in an uncharacteristic shy movement for opera hopefuls. “Neither, Madame. I’m sorry for intruding. I have been hired by the owners to make costumes. I just wanted to get acquainted with the opera house before I started my job.”

Madame Giry’s eyes raised in surprise. The girl was more beautiful than anyone on the stage. She could be a star if she had talent. “Do you not perform at all?”

“No. I am not a dancer, and have no talent for singing.” The girl swallowed hard forming the words.

“I am Madame Giry. What name do you go by?” the older woman asked.

“Lily,” was the girl’s only reply.

“Lily…?” Antoinette asked.

“Just Lily, Madame,” the girl said looking down again.

“Do you have a place to stay, Lily?” Antoinette asked, realizing that the girl must not have any family.

Lily thought of the one room she resided in on the seedier side of Paris. It was not a home. Just a place to stay that she could not afford to pay for. She knew she would be out on the streets unless she could get an advance on her wages soon. “I am staying somewhere, but it is far from the opera house.” She did not want to say the name of the street that was little more than an alley where prostitutes plied their wares.

“There is extra room in the dancers dormitory if you wish to move in here,” Antoinette suggested.

A broad smile crossed Lily’s face. “Oh please. You are too kind, Madame. I thank you,” the girl said giving a gracious curtsy to the woman before turning to rush from the opera house to retrieve her few personal items from the room she was staying in.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Lily entered the room she had stayed in for the past six months she was thrilled that it would be the last time she would have to see it. She did not see the figure sitting on the chair in the corner. She quickly grabbed a patched and warn bag and started stuffing her few belongings in it.

“Going somewhere, ma petite Cherie?” a voice called from the corner.

Lily startled by the words dropped the bag she was packing. She backed up to the wardrobe behind her waiting to see who had spoken. “Who’s there?”

“Just I, your faithful landlord,” the voice said standing and moving forward into the candlelight.

“Monsieur. You frightened me,” she stuttered.

“Are you leaving?” he asked walking around the small bed in the center of the room.

She looked down at the bag she had dropped. “I have found employment at the opera house. I promise I will pay you what I owe, when I receive my first months wages,” she said bending and picking up her bag.

“I see. Well I’m sorry but that will not do,” the man said coming closer to her.

She looked to him in confusion. “I’m sorry sir, but I have not the money to pay you yet.”

“Well since you are leaving I will have to have something else as payment,” he suggested standing close enough to run his finger down her bare arm.

“No.” She pulled her arm away from him. “I am not a common street strumpet,” she said as the blush came to her cheeks.

“Come now little one. This won’t take long, and you might even like it,” he said grasping both of her forearms pulling her closer to him. She tried to again pull her arms away from him, but his vice like grip would not allow it.

“Never,” she said lifting her knee sharply into his groin. He let go of her arms bending over in pain.

She grabbed her bag and started to flee the room. She had just made the door when a hand tangled in her long dark curls from behind, pulling her backwards. She let out a small strangled sound as her hair was roughly yanked.

“Not so fast, whore.” He pulled her back and tossed her to the bed. Before she could gain her feet he was on top of her, holding her down.

“I am no whore, you beast,” she yelled struggling to free her arms that he held pinned above her head.

“For the right amount of money, you all are.” He smiled down at her.

She gave him a glare that she hoped looked deadly and then spit in his face. The next moment one of his hands let go of hers so he could strike her cheek. She felt pain spread over her face and saw stars dance before her eyes. But this only made her struggle more, which brought more strikes to her face. She could taste blood flowing from her busted lip.

Once he had exhausted her with the beating he began to rip at her dress, but stopped as he heard a shrill whistle outside in the street. He looked to the woman and realized his mistake. He had not gagged her. A piercing scream could be heard down the street.

“d**n you, wench,” he said getting off of her and making his way to the back door and slipping out, but not before a warning. “This is not over.”

She lay panting on the bed not believing her luck. A moment later the door was busted open and a member of the police strode in taking in her appearance. She pointed to the back door and the officer left immediately in pursuit of her attacker. She did not wait around to see if he would be caught. She grabbed her small bag of belongings and left the room for the last time.

It was late when she entered the door that the employees used at the opera house. She knew it would be locked soon. She knew not where she was going, and was still slightly in shock after the beating she had taken.

She made her way to the only place in the opera house that she was familiar with. She walked onto the stage looking around the auditorium. She went to the middle of the stage and sunk to her knees. She knew that all the dancers and singers would be in the dormitory, wherever that was. She knew not where else to go. So she kneeled there trying to regroup her senses. She had narrowly escaped a fate worse than death as far as she could see. She was shaken as the thoughts brought back painful memories from her past. She did not realize when she had begun to cry, but only realized she was, when she was ripped from her memories by her own soft sobs.

She curled into herself laying on the cold stage letting the painful emotions sweep over her until she finally succumbed to darkness, whether in sleep or unconsciousness she was not sure.

She never saw the figure that stood alone in the flies, watching her. He could see her body racked with sobs, but with uncaring eyes did nothing but watch, and listen. After she stopped crying and he was sure that she slept he made his way to the stage to take a better look at the girl who had invaded his domain, at his time of night.

She was lying on her side with one arm tucked under her head. He approached her from behind, and slipped around in front of her. His breath caught in his throat for a moment at the sight he saw. Her face was smeared with blood, and her right eye was swollen.

She had bruises forming on her cheeks and forehead. He reached out to her placing one hand in front of her face feeling her breathing on his hand. She lived. He had seen atrocities in his life, and had committed a few himself, but never had he struck a woman, over and over until she was not recognizable. And they called him a monster.

He bent down and picked the woman’s light body up deciding immediately what to do with her. He made his way to Madame Giry’s room placing her on the floor in front of the door. He reached down one last time stroking the swollen right side of her face, and then reached up touching his mask covering the right side of his own face. He stood and rapped on the door and then fled into the shadows.

[Meluivan Indil]

Discoveries In the Dark

“Who is it?” Antoinette’s voice said pulling the door open. She looked in shock at the body sprawled at her feet. “What has happened?” she exclaimed bending beside the girl she had met earlier that day. She was hardly recognizable.

“What is it, Mother?” Meg said from behind her. “Oh my,” she gasped looking down at the girl her mother was checking over.

“Help me move her,” Antoinette commanded after she was sure the girl still lived. She crossed the hall and unlocked the door to the room across from hers. She had vowed she would never use this room, but the dormitory was too far away to carry the girl. The dressing room had not been changed since its last occupant had left it. They carried the girl in and laid her on the bed that looked as if it had been waiting for that moment. It did not escape Madame Giry that there was no dust, and the flowers in the vases looked fresh. So he was still lurking around. They worked quickly to clean her cuts and bruises.

She and Meg took turns watching over the girl throughout the night. Antoinette could see that the girl had nightmares, but did not try to wake her. She would need her rest to heal from the ordeal. It was still early when she heard a soft clicking noise behind her. She turned to see him standing next to the mirror.

“I’m sorry Erik. I had no choice but to use this room,” she began to explain thinking he would be angry.

“I knew you would,” was his reply.

“You knew… Erik, did you do this?” she asked knowing she did not want to believe it.

“Antoinette, I am many things. But it would take a true monster with no compassion whatsoever to have done something like this.” He spat the words at her in anger.

“But you knew,” she whispered.

“Yes,” was his only answer. He walked over to the bed looking down at the injured woman. “Will she be all right?”

“I do believe so. It will take time to heal, but eventually she will,” Antoinette assured him. “It’s such a pity too.”

“What is?” he asked.

“She was so beautiful. When I saw her earlier I thought I was looking at the face of an angel. But now she will have scars. I only hope she can live with them.” She looked up to him knowing he would understand.

He looked down at the woman and for the first time realized how beautiful she must normally be. Her skin where not bruised was the color of fine porcelain. Her face was pleasantly heart-shaped. Her long hair hung in spirals, and was the color of rich mahogany. Before he had only seen the bruised and battered skin. “She will have to,” he said reaching out once more to touch her cheek. Then he turned and went back to the mirror entrance.

But he was stopped by a hand on his shoulder. “Erik. She is not Christine.”

He swung around so quickly at her words that she thought for a moment that he would strike her. “I know that.”

“She has nothing for you. No talent. No voice. Please leave her alone,” Antoinette pleaded with him. She had seen the look on his face when he looked at the young woman.

“Do you think me a letch woman? She was hurt. Am I not allowed to show concern for another human being?” His angry words reverberated through the room.

“It is unlike you, Erik,” she replied stiffly.

“Maybe you do not know me as well as you think, Antoinette. You of all people should know what compassion is. You showed it to a young boy that they called the Devils Child many years ago. Do not think me incapable of it now,” he warned slipping behind the mirror and into the secret tunnel leading to the catacombs.

“Oh, Erik, not again,” she whispered. Then she heard a noise from the bed and turned to see the young lady sitting up staring at the mirror entrance that was now closed.

“Lily. You are awake,” she smiled returning to the girl’s bedside.

“Yes. Where am I?” she asked still not taking her eyes from the mirror.

“This is the old Prima Donna’s dressing room. It is no longer in use. It was the closest room to my own so I decided it would be best for caring for you. I have to admit you gave me quite a shock when I found you outside my bedroom door.” Antoinette tried to draw her attention from the mirror.

“Your bedroom. But I collapsed on the stage,” Lily said turning her attention to the older woman.

“Maybe in your confusion you made it to my room. Don’t worry little one,” she tried to assure the girl. But she was positive that Erik had brought the girl to her.

“Maybe.” She turned her gaze to the mirror again and then for the first time noticed her own reflection. She reached a trembling hand up to touch her bruised face. She flinched at the pain it brought her.

“Don’t worry about that either my child. It will heal,” Antoinette tried to comfort the girl.

She nodded. “Yes I know. It matters little,” she answered shrugging at her own reflection. This surprised Antoinette. Most of the women she knew were extremely vain when it came to appearance. “I just wish my eyesight was not so blurry.”

“Blurry huh. Well maybe when the swelling goes down it will help.” She paused for a moment not sure if she should ask what was on her mind. “May I ask who did this to you?” She prayed silently that Erik had been telling the truth.

Lily looked down to the covers and thought for a moment. “Just a man who I owed money to. He thought to gain recompense in another way. I did not agree.”

Antoinette knew what the girl’s words implied. “Lily. Do I need to send for a doctor? Are you hurt elsewhere?”

“No. I managed to escape him before he could do any more damage than what you see,” Lily assured her.

A sigh of relief left the older woman. “Good.” Then she turned towards the door. “I’m afraid I must leave you for a short while now. The auditions will start again in a few moments. But I will have my daughter come and sit with you.”

“Madame Giry. Who was the man you were speaking to when I awoke?” Lily asked, stopping her from leaving. Antoinette had hoped the girl had not seen him.

She turned to the girl. “Someone you must forget you ever saw,” she said in a commanding voice.

“But his words were so touching,” Lily said staring again at the mirror, almost as if she could see through it.

“You can not think of him that way child. It will only bring you pain. Please promise me that you will try to forget you saw him.” Antoinette’s voice sounded urgent.

“I will try,” Lily said after a moment of thought. After Madame Giry left the room she whispered again to herself. “I will try, but how can I?”


After a short while a beautiful blonde woman entered the room carrying a tray of food. Lily had been deep in thought. She wondered what her future held at the opera house. She felt comfortable and safe here. Safer than she had been in the past five years of her life. She wasn’t sure what it was about this place that comforted her. After the ordeal she had suffered through the night before she knew she should be upset, but that seemed like a lifetime ago.

“Hello. I am Meg Giry. I bought you food. Mother said not to wake you if you slept, but I am glad you are awake.” The blonde girl smiled placing the tray in front of Lily.

“Thank you. I am Lily.” Lily smiled at the friendly young girl.

Lily ate a small amount of the food speaking to the young woman. Before they knew it hours had passed. She couldn’t believe how easy it was to talk to the other woman. She hadn’t spoken that much in years. “I saw you dancing yesterday. You were lovely.”

“Thank you. I am to be the lead dancer this year. The owners said so. I can’t wait until the first performance,” Meg chatted happily.

“Yes, well I am worried about the first performance,” Lily said frowning.

“Why?” Meg asked.

“I should be starting the designs for the costumes today. But my eyes are still blurry. How can I draw if I can barely see the paper?” Lily admitted her fear to her new friend.

“You just need a couple of days to heal, Lily. You are rushing it. We have plenty of time until the first performance,” Meg tried to assure her.

“I am being silly, I know. But I so want to please the owners. I don’t want to lose this job. I don’t ever want to leave the opera house,” Lily said smiling broadly. “It is such a magical place.”

“I think you will be here for a long time to come, Lily. I can see the love of opera in your eyes. Why have you never tried to dance or sing? I think you would look glorious up on the stage. I think your passion would come through in the performance.” Meg tried to urge Lily into a new direction.

“No, Meg. I cannot do that. I would much rather remain in the background creating the beautiful costumes. Please don’t ask me to attempt something I have not the heart to do,” Lily said not explaining her reasons behind her aversion to the stage.

“All right. I will not push it,” Meg agreed.

Lily had stood and moved to the mirror staring at its gilded edges. “Meg, can I ask you something?”

“Why of course, Lily. You can ask me anything,” Meg said sitting on the bed and crossing her legs beneath her.

“Have you ever seen a man in the opera house wearing all black, and bearing a white mask covering half of his face?” Lily asked looking at Meg’s reflection in the mirror.

Meg swallowed hard and the color left her face. “Lily, that is not funny,” Meg said thinking the girl was jesting her.

“What do you mean, Meg?” Lily said in confusion. Meg could see then that Lily was not teasing her.

“Have you seen him? Have you seen the phantom?” Meg asked in a demanding tone.

“The Phantom?” Lily said questioningly.

“Oh, Lily. Everyone knows the story of the Phantom. You are not trying to tell me that you do not,” Meg said not believing that the woman could be so naïve.

“Meg, I’m sorry but I don’t know what you speak of,” Lily said turning to Meg.

Meg decided to believe her. Then settled in to tell Lily the sorrowful story. “They say that there is a man living in the catacombs below the opera house. But he is no normal man. He is a genius, and he has the voice of an angel, but he hides his face from all that would gawk. His face is deformed and ugly.” Lily thought of the mask she had seen on the man’s face the night before, and thought it no wonder he would hide. But she did not interrupt Meg’s tale.

“They say he fell in love with a young performer. Christine Daae. He spoke to her and tutored her in the shadows of the night. He kept himself hidden from her, so she would not see. What the Phantom did not know was that Christine was falling in love with her childhood sweetheart, the opera’s Patron. I am not sure of what exactly happened, but she ended up leaving Paris with her lover. They say the Phantom disappeared after that,” Meg finished the sad tale.

“He must have been heartbroken,” Lily whispered thinking of the pain he must have endured.

“Do not feel sorry for him, Lily. What I did not tell you was that he was also a murderer,” Meg continued with a warning.

Lily looked up in shock. “Murderer!” She was shocked by the word.

“Yes, he killed two men in this very theater,” Meg said.

“But why?” Lily asked in confusion.

“No one is sure. He just did. And if you have seen this Phantom I suggest you stay away from him,” Meg gave a final warning before standing to leave. “I must go see how the auditions are going. I will be back with your evening meal.”

After she left Lily sat on the bed. “Why do they all think they need to warn me away from you? I have never even met you,” Lily whispered starring at the mirror.

“Yes, why must they?” she heard a voice floating through the air around her. She looked all around, but could not tell where it was coming from.

“Who’s there?” she asked finally.

“They think you should fear me. Maybe they are right,” the voice seemed to whisper around her.

“I heard you speaking to Madame Giry. I don’t fear you,” she said bravely forcing her chin forward.

“They all do,” the voice spoke again.

“I am not them,” she said defiantly.

“No you are not. Are you?” the voice whispered again.

“But Madame was right about one thing. I am not your Christine,” she said knowing her words would anger him.

“No, you are not.” The words were not spoken in anger as she expected, but more in disappointment.

[Meluivan Indil]

So Little Time

Lily cried out in frustration balling the paper before her up and throwing it into a pile in the corner. She reached up and rubbed her eyes, feeling the moisture seep from below her lashes. It had been two weeks since she was attacked, and still her eyes went from clear to blurry if she tried to concentrate too hard on what she was looking at. The swelling and bruises were gone, but there was a cut in the corner of her eye, which hadn’t healed yet. She knew it would end up as a scar running from the corner of her eye to her ear. She didn’t care much if it marred her looks, but the effect on her vision was more than she could stand.

She had not been able to complete any designs for the first performance, which was drawing closer, and she should have already started to make the costumes. She laid her head down on the desk before wrapping her arms around her face. She would not cry. It would not solve anything. But she had begun to see a picture in her mind's eye of the owners firing her. What would she do if she had to leave the opera house? She had nowhere else to go.

“Life becomes difficult for the opera’s costume designer,” she heard a deep voice say into the night.

She lifted her head looking around not seeing anyone. “Where are you?” she asked calmly even though her heart had begun to beat erratically.

“I am everywhere,” he whispered, and it seemed as if he stood behind her.

“Why do you hide from me?” she challenged as her hands began to tremble.

“I am not hiding. You just have not found me yet,” was the whispered reply.

“You play games with me, Monsieur Ghost,” she taunted using the name she had heard others speak of in the last couple of weeks.

“You have heard the tales then.” His voice seemed to hold a slight tinge of mirth.

“I have heard much, but nothing from the person who would know best,” she countered.

“What would you hear of me?” he asked with a slight chuckle.

“Only what you wish to tell,” she said and then added as an afterthought. “As long as it is the truth.”

“The truth is not always what is the best to hear,” he suggested.

“Only if you fear it. I do not fear the truth,” she whispered back.

“Then tell me what you would hear,” the voice said directly into her ear. She felt the warm breath on her neck and was not surprised when a strong hand descended lightly upon her shoulder, caressing the tense muscle. She hadn’t realized how tense she had become while speaking to him.

She turned in the chair she was sitting in looking up into the masked face of the Phantom. “I would hear your name first,” she said taking his hand into her own.

He didn’t speak for a moment. He had not said that name in years. Not even to Christine had he said that name. It was easier being the Opera Ghost, or the Phantom, or even the Angel of Music. It was so much harder to just be “Erik,” he whispered the name.

“Erik. I like that. Erik, I am Lily,” she said smiling at him.

He could see the confidence in her face. He could see the genuine smile spread across her features. “Why do you not fear me?” he asked realizing her trembling fingers had nothing to do with fear.

“Why would I?” she asked him.

“They all do. Have they not told you of the monster that stalks the night in this house?” he asked in disbelief that she would not fear him.

“I have been told. But I see no monster here. I have seen true evil in my time. It is not here,” she said placing a hand on his chest.

He saw something flash in her sapphire colored eyes, and for a moment he knew she did not lie. For a brief moment he saw pain that rivaled his own, but then it was gone as quickly as it appeared. He stared at her beautiful face noticing that she indeed would have a scar marring its beauty. He reached out stroking her cheek and thought to himself that no scar could mar the beauty in her soul. “Would you think the same if I was not wearing this mask?” he asked the question that was in the forefront of his mind.

“Erik, what I see of your face is beautiful, but it holds no comparison to the beauty I see in your eyes,” she answered him.

“What do you see in my eyes, Lily?” he asked not believing her words.

“I see a heart that felt concern and compassion for a bruised and beaten girl, when he did not have to. Paris is a cold place. Most people revel in the pleasures of the flesh, but never feel the pleasures of the heart. Most of its people would have left me on that stage whether I lived or died. But I know now that someone carried me to Madame Giry’s room to be cared for. I know that someone was you.” She had been going over the events of that night in her mind for days, and had come to the only logical conclusion.

Her words seemed to make him uncomfortable. He dropped his hand and starred over her shoulder at the drawings stacked on her desk lit by candlelight. He could see where she was going with the designs, but her lines were not fluid. The designs themselves would be beautiful if only the hand that drew them was better. She noticed the direction of his stare and sighed a heavy sigh. “They are horrible. Please don’t look at them,” she pleaded.

“Is this the first design job you have taken?” he asked not meaning to offend.

“No, my drawings are usually much better, but my d**n eyes are ruining them,” she said turning back to the drawing on top, meaning to wad it up and throw it away.

He placed a hand over hers stalling the motion. “What do you mean your eyes are ruining them?”

She took her free hand and placed it over her eyes rubbing them, and pulling back a damp hand in return. “I try to concentrate on the drawings, and the closer I look the blurrier the picture becomes, and my eyes water constantly. Madame Giry says it is from this cut. That eventually my eyes will go back to normal. But I am beginning to wonder. I don’t know what I will do if I can not finish the designs.”

“One moment,” he said pulling a chair up beside hers and taking a seat. He pulled his cape off resting it on the back of the chair. He then picked up a blank sheet of paper, and started to draw the picture she had tried to compete earlier. She watched in fascination as the design she had wanted to sketch began to appear on the paper. Within a few moments the design was complete and he handed it to her. She blinked her eyes for a moment then stared at the sketch before her. It was exactly what she had pictured in her mind.

“One thing they say about you is true.” she said in awe. “You are a genius.”

Her compliment brought a smile to his lips. “What else do you have here?” he said pulling out the next design.

“Erik. I can not ask you to sketch all my designs for me,” she said placing a hand on his.

“You did not ask. I offered,” he said pulling his hand from below hers, and began the next sketch. They worked throughout the night with her explaining what she envisioned, as he sketched what her words inspired him to draw.

She smiled as he began to hum a haunting melody that she did not know. “What song is that, Erik? I do not recognize it,” she asked curious.

“I’m sorry. I had not realized I was humming,” he said looking down at the table. “I have not sung in a long time. Five years.”

‘Neither have I,’ she thought to herself. “I’m sorry, Erik. Singing must be hard for you.” She knew that his relationship with Christine was based upon song.

“It was,” he whispered, then added. “Music of the Night.”

“Pardon?” she asked.

“The song is called Music of the Night,” he said beginning to hum the music again. Then his voice lifted.

Night time sharpens, heightens each sensation

Darkness stirs, and wakes the imagination

Silently the senses, abandon their defenses


Slowly, gently night unfurls its splendor

Grasp it, sense it, tremulous and tender

Turn your face away from the garish light of day

Turn your thoughts away from cold unfeeling light

And listen to the music of the night


Close your eyes and surrender to your darkest dreams

Purge your thoughts of the life you knew before

Close your eyes, let your spirit start to soar

And you’ll live as you’ve never lived before


She had closed her eyes during his song and let the music carry her away, but was disappointed as he abruptly stopped. “I’m sorry. I cannot continue,” he said clearing his voice. She could see one single tear in the corner of his eye.

“It’s all right, Erik. I understand,” she said reaching up and wiping the tear away.

He turned to her, and the harsh words left his mouth before he could think to stop them. “How can you understand?”

She pulled her hand back placing it in her lap and then looked down at her hands. “I understand that one sometimes sings for one person, who means more to them than life itself. But when that person is taken from them they can no longer wish to sing for anyone else. It is too painful to even sing for oneself,” she explained what she knew he must feel.

“How can you understand that?” he asked and then understanding dawned on him also. “Sing for me, Lily,” he asked already knowing her answer.

“I can not, Erik,” she whispered.

He reached out placing one hand below her chin pulling it up so he could look into her eyes. “You can not, or you won’t?” he asked.

“I can sing for no one, Erik. It is no longer in me,” she answered.

“Not even for yourself?” he wondered.

“Especially not for myself,” she whispered her voice breaking. He saw the tears threatening to escape her eyes, but also knew she would not allow them to flow.

“Can I ask you a question?” he asked hesitantly.

“Yes.” she answered.

“Was your voice beautiful?” he wondered.

She closed her eyes and pulled away from him standing and crossing the room with her back to him. “Erik, thank you for helping me,” she whispered. “But please leave now.” He could hear the emotion in her voice as the tears struggled to break free.

He stood, pulling his cape on, and then walked towards her. He was not used to being told when to leave, but he wanted to respect her wishes. He stopped right behind her reaching out stroking her hair. “If you need me just call. I will hear you.”

She wanted to lean into him and except the comfort he was offering, but could not. “Thank you,” she said hoarsely, pulling away from him and making her way to the bed, sitting on it, facing away from him.

A moment later she heard a soft click as the false door behind the mirror closed. “I do need you,” she said in barely a whisper, and then buried her face in the pillow, wanting only to descend into darkness, but she knew that darkness would hold only nightmares. Why couldn’t the darkness be just nothingness for her. She prayed for that nothingness as the tears finally began to fall on her pillow.

[Meluivan Indil]

Opening Night

“They all look so beautiful,” Madame Giry said standing beside Lily in the wings of the stage watching as the magic begun. Lily had worked harder than ever before to finish the costumes on time, and to her utter delight her eyesight had gone back to normal eventually. And what pleased her most was the fact that almost every night Erik had come to her room to sit and talk to her as she sewed. She had talked very little to anyone in the past five years, and it was a welcome change to speak with someone about her love of the opera. And she did love it, and everything about it. A love he seemed to share with her.

“I do believe we will have a hit on our hands, Madame,” Lily said hugging the older woman as tears of joy coursed down her cheeks. After a moment the woman hugged her back not being able to withstand her exuberance.

After Madame Giry had left to give instructions to the dancers Lily stood alone. She looked to the flies searching for a familiar figure she knew would not miss the night. She saw him standing in the shadows watching the performance below. She wanted to be by his side and decided that she would not be missed if she snuck up into the flies.

She avoided the other members of the crew, not wanting any of them to become suspicious and follow her. When she reached the spot he had stood in but moments before he was gone. “Erik,” She called into the darkness.

She heard a creaking noise off to her right, and turned in that direction, but nothing was there. “Where are you, Erik?”

“Behind you, Ma Cherie,” he whispered into her ear. She jumped at his sudden appearance spinning around and nearly losing her footing. He quickly grasped her waist holding her tight until she regained her bearing.

“You scared me, Erik,” she scolded, and then turned her attention to the stage below. “Look at it, Erik. It’s breathtaking.”

He saw that her cheeks were a shade of scarlet, and she did seem breathless. He watched her reactions to the performance. He could see the longing in her eyes. A longing that he knew only came from knowing the pure exhilaration of performing on the stage. “What did it feel like when you performed?” he asked in her ear knowing she was totally engrossed in the production below.

“Oh, Erik, it was the most exhilarating and thrilling experience ever possible,” she said intent on the Prima Donna’s solo below.

“You miss it so,” he whispered.

It seemed to dawn on her then what they were speaking of. She turned her face to his with a frown. She began to scold him for tricking her into admitting to her secret, but then realized that she could not keep secrets from him. He knew her mind too well. “Yes, I do miss it,” she admitted.

“How can you give up something that is so precious to you?” he asked not understanding her mixed emotions.

“I no longer have the heart for it,” she answered sadly. “It hurts too much, Erik.” Her voice held such deep sorrow that he could not bear to push it any further.

His hands still rested upon her waist and he wasn’t sure what prompted him to pull her close to him, but he felt as if he needed to comfort her. At first she stiffened in his arms but as he pulled her head to his shoulder, and then started stroking her back, she breathed a large sigh and then melted into him, wrapping her arms around his waste and accepting the shoulder he offered. For a moment she let him comfort her. She let the tension that had been building inside her for so long release. And for once she felt completely at peace.

He felt her relax against him, and continued to stroke her back as he whispered words of comfort in her ear. “Pain eventually fades, Ma Cherie. I promise this too shall pass.” He whispered pressing his lips to her brow in a tender kiss.

“You make me truly want to believe that.” She answered looking up into his eyes.

“You should.” He said reaching up to caress her cheek. “I would not intentionally mislead you, Lily.”

She knew she should pull away, but also knew she did not wish to. His hand caressing her cheek caused a heat to flare inside her that she did not know even existed. She ran her hand up his chest and around his neck tangling her fingers in his hair. He saw the change in her eyes and was surprised to see the desire she was feeling reflected in their depths. “Lily…” He began but knew not what to say.

She stopped his words though by leaning up and placing a tender kiss upon his lips. The kiss was soft and teasing at first, but when he started to respond to her it deepened into one of passion. He pulled her body flush with his raising her up off the ground so they were the same height deepening the kiss. He felt as if it was consuming him. Never before had he felt such passion in one kiss.

“Let go of the woman.” He nearly did not hear the command from behind Lily, but the danger tingled at his senses. He broke the kiss lowering her back to the floor. He could see the confusion and fear in her eyes. He looked over her shoulder and saw an armed guard standing on the end of the scaffold they were perched on. “I said let her go.” The man said raising a rifle and pointing it at him.

Lily realized what was happening and turned her head facing the guard. “Sir, you are mistaken. This man is my friend. He was not harming me.”

“Mademoiselle, I’m afraid you are the one who is mistaken. I have been instructed to keep an eye open for one fitting his description. He needs to come with me, and we can clear this up.” The guard said training his gun on Erik. But they could both see his shaking hands.

She turned back to Erik and mouthed the word “Run” as she planned to distract the guard. But as she turned back around she felt Erik wrap his arms around her waist swinging her around behind him just as the man’s twitchy fingers tripped the trigger on the rifle. “No.” She screamed as she saw the bullet pass through his shoulder. The auditorium below became silent as her scream echoed around the room, as several sets of eyes turned towards them.

“It’s the Phantom.” A voice screamed from below.

“No.” Lily said reaching out and grasping a rope hanging from the rafters forcing it into his hand. “Flee.” She pleaded with him.

He let go of his shoulder, which he had been clutching in pain, and she saw the blood coating his hand. He reached out taking the rope from her and slid down its length towards the stage. As if by magic the floor seemed to drop out from below him, and he disappeared below the stage. She watched, as the stage seemed to swallow him praying he would be able to escape them.

The guard had attempted to reload his rifle, but was too slow. She turned on him quickly making her way in front of him, grasping the rifle herself and throwing it to the stage below. “You are the monster.” She said reaching out and slapping the man across the face. He did not know what to do as she pushed her way past him disappearing into the shadows.

Lily made her way to her room without being stopped, and locked the door behind her. She went to the mirror determined to discover how to open it. She saw then that it was ajar. When had he done that she wondered? She made her way through the tunnels feeling no fear of the dark, dank halls and stairs she came upon. When she reached the underground lake she saw no way to cross, so she plunged her lower body into the icy cold water wading through the waterways until she came upon an iron grate spanning the entire tunnel. She peered through the grate knowing what she was seeing was his lair. She saw him sitting at a desk with his head resting upon one arm curled upon the desk.

“Erik.” She called out to him, grasping the grate with both hands pushing her face against the grate.

His head slowly rose at the sound of his name. “Lily.” He said in disbelief. She could only see the back of his head. She watched as he reached out picking up his mask and fitting it back on his face before he turned to face her. “What are you doing here?” He asked clutching his injured shoulder.

“What do you think I’m doing? You’re hurt.” She called out. “Please, Erik, let me in.”

He stood and made his way to the mechanism that opened the grate. It was hard to push the lever with only the use of one arm, but he did so anyway. As the grate opened Lily waded into the room and up onto the bank of the underground lake. She made her way to where he stood, and took the lever in her own hands closing the grate behind her. Then she turned back to him. He looked pale, and she could see the pain in his eyes. She reached out to him meaning to remove his jacket, but he pulled back turning away from her and stumbling back towards his desk.

She followed him, but before he could make it there his legs began to crumble. She ducked quickly under his arm supporting his weight on her shoulder. She diverted his direction towards the swan shaped bed she saw in the adjoining chamber. “Please, Erik. I cannot carry you. You must help me get you to the bed.” She pleaded with him.

She helped him to lie on the bed and then sat beside him. “Please don’t fight me, Erik. I only want to help.” She said reaching down and unfastening his jacket. She threw the jacket to the floor and stared at the blood covering the shoulder of his white shirt below. Her fingers began to tremble as she tried to unbutton the shirt, but they were shaking too much, and the buttons would not unfasten.

He looked down to her trembling fingers. “Lily, you don’t have to do this. If you are frightened please go.” He said placing one hand upon hers.

“I am only frightened for you.” She declared trying to sound strong. She could see her words did not satisfy him. She would not let him down. So she used both hands grasping each side of the shirt and roughly pulling it apart popping the buttons off in the process, and then pulled the shirt off. There was so much blood, she thought in horror. “I need water to clean it with.” She asked. He motioned to a small alcove, which she discovered held the opening to an underground spring. She tore strips from her petticoat soaking them in the water, and then returned to him.

She cleaned away as much of the blood as she could so she could take a better look at the wound. She could see that the bullet passed right through his shoulder, which she considered lucky since she knew she could never have removed it herself. She tore more strips from the petticoat using them to apply pressure so the bleeding would stop. When she realized the bleeding wasn’t slowing she began to panic.

He could see the panicked look upon her face and guessed the problem. “You must sew them shut.” He said pointing to his desk. “There is needle and thread on the desk.”

“Erik…I don’t know if I can do that.” She whispered.

“If you can sew a dress, you can do this.” He said trying to smile for her.

She had to stop several times as her hands began to tremble uncontrollably. Each time she took several deep breaths to try to calm her nerves. He began to hum softly to try to help calm her. She knew it was the song he had started to sing for her that first night they met. She slowly began to hum with him letting the notes distract her nerves.

As he heard the sound from her he began to sing the song in honest. It came out slower than usual, but the pain in his shoulder made it difficult.

Night time sharpens, heightens each sensation

Darkness stirs, and wakes the imagination

Silently the senses, abandon their defenses


He was pleased to hear her voice join his on the next part.


Slowly, gently night unfurls its splendor

Grasp it, sense it, tremulous and tender

Turn your face away from the garish light of day

Turn your thoughts away from cold unfeeling light

And listen to the music of the night


Their voices both strengthened as they melded together.


Close your eyes and surrender to your darkest dreams

Purge your thoughts of the life you knew before

Close your eyes, let your spirit start to soar

And you’ll live as you’ve never lived before


Softly, deftly music shall caress you

Hear it, feel it secretly possess you

Open up your mind, let your fantasies unwind

In this darkness that you know you cannot fight

The darkness of the Music of the Night


Let your mind start to journey to a strange new world

Leave all thoughts of the life you knew before

Let your soul take you where you long to be

Only then can you belong to me


Floating, falling sweet intoxication

Touch me, trust me, savor each sensation

Let the dream begin, let your darker side give in

To the power of the music that I write

The power of the Music of the Night


You alone can make my song take flight

Help me make the Music of the Night


She finished the last stitch as they finished the song together. She wrapped the wound then in bandages made from her petticoat.

When she looked to his face she realized that he had fallen into a deep sleep. Her hand rested on his chest so she knew he still breathed. She sat remembering the events of the night. If he hadn’t swung her around the way he had that bullet would have ended up in her head more than likely. He had saved her life. She knew that the Phantom would not have saved her. But Erik had.

[Meluivan Indil]

Dangerous Thoughts

Lily kept watch as Erik slept. She knew what he was. She knew what was said to be under his mask. And even though she could imagine what he looked like it didn’t make any difference to her. She had always known that a person’s true beauty had nothing to do with their appearance. Her father had made sure she understood that at a young age. He had been a good man who wanted more for his daughter than the life of a Prima Donna. He wanted her to base her opinions of people on what was in their heart and soul. She had only once ever based her feelings on someone’s looks and that had cost her more than anyone could imagine. It would not happen again.

No matter what anyone else might say, she had seen what was in Erik’s soul. He was not evil. He knew compassion for others even though most would never show it to him. “You’re not alone, Erik.” She whispered reaching out and smoothing his hair behind his ear. She began to remember the kiss she had given him earlier. Her face turned a bright shade of red remembering the unmistakable desire she felt for him. “I shouldn’t feel desire.” She whispered again. How could she feel that way? It was something she had never expected. She had never even dreamed of feeling that way for a man. But for this man she felt both passion and heartbreaking yearning.

“How can someone like me feel love?” She asked the air surrounding her. “But then with you, how can I not?” The confusing thoughts plagued her for many hours, as she watched over him.

As Erik awoke he felt the undeniable yearning to keep his eyes closed and remain in peaceful slumber, but suddenly a sharp stab of pain in his shoulder reminded him of the events of the night before. Everything came back to him in a rush, and he remembered that he had almost lost Lily the night before. If his reflexes had been even a moment off that bullet would have surely killed her. That was a circumstance he could not have accepted. He had become dependent on her presence. She had so much become a part of his life, that the thought of her not being there had led him to risk anything to save her.

He remembered how she had so bravely made her way to his lair, and cared for him the night before. He felt pride that she would do so much for him. She was so strong, yet so delicate, and innocent.

As his senses started to return he could feel something resting upon his chest. He slowly opened his eyes to a sight that surprised him. Lily sat on the edge of the bed with one hand resting upon his chest. Her head was propped up by her other arm which was resting upon her knees. She was asleep. Sleeping sitting up was not something he had ever imagined possible. He knew the night had passed by the positions of the shadows reflecting through the catacombs. She had sat with him all night. He softly reached out enfolding her hand in his own. “Lily.” He said softly.

She startled at his word. “Yes, Erik. What’s wrong? What do you need?” She said looking all around in confusion.

“Nothing is wrong.” He smiled at her obvious concern. “You fell asleep, sitting up.”

“I did.” A frown crossed her face. “I didn’t want to do that, in case you needed me.” She said stifling a yawn.

“You need sleep.” He squeezed her hand in a reassuring way. “I am all right. You need to go to bed and get some sleep.” He didn’t want her to leave, but knew she would feel more comfortable in her own bed. He expected her to leave him then, but instead she looked down to his bed biting her lip.

“Do you mind?” She asked nodding at the bed beside him.
He was shocked. Did she trust him enough to stay there with him? “No, of course not.” He said sliding over some allowing her room to lie comfortably.

But she did trust him. She couldn’t dream of him ever hurting her. “Thank you, Erik.” She whispered lying beside him and reaching out one hand to rest on his chest as she had while he slept.

“I won’t stop breathing while you sleep.” He tried to assure her. “The bullet was far from my heart.”

“Just in case.” She said smiling and closing her eyes. She added a thought in her mind that she did not say to him. ‘The bullet may have been far from your heart, but watching it strike you felt as if it pierced mine.’ But she could not tell him that. She had come to the decision that she indeed did love him, but he had already found the one great love of his life. And she would never be able to replace Christine. He himself had said she was not Christine. How could she compete with the woman he thought of as perfect? She could not, and she would never settle for being second best to his true love. So she would love him in secret, hoping someday that his broken heart would be able to mend.

“Lily. You sang for me.” He said remembering.

“And you for me.” She countered, as her eyelids fluttered open.

“But you said you couldn’t.” He wondered.

“Things change. For you I can.” She tried to explain.

“But for no one else?” He asked.

“I sing for you alone, Erik.” She admitted.

“Why me?”

“You’re very important to me, Erik.” She wanted so bad to tell him that he meant more to her than anyone else in the world, but held back.

“You said that you had lost the one person in the world that you sung for. Can you tell me about it?” He asked wanting to understand her better.

She didn’t know if it was the feelings she felt for him, or maybe because she was so tired, but she didn’t immediately clam up at his question as she always had before. She thought back to her past pushing through the painful memories and remembering the good ones. “He was the kindest man who ever lived. I loved him without any reserve.” She started as a small smile played across her lips.

He wondered then if she had lost a lover and felt a pang of jealousy for any man she called love, but kept the feelings to himself.

“It was just the two of us for so long. Us against the world. He was never demanding, and he had the truest heart. He was a good person. But he is gone now. He was killed.” She admitted as tears started to form in the corners of her eyes.

“You seem so young to have lost the love of your life already.” He said covering her hand with his own.

“The love of my life.” She said in confusion. Then realized what he implied. “I loved him without reserve yes. But that was because he was my father.”

“Your father. I’m sorry the way you spoke I assumed…” He started but she just shook her head.

“I understand. He raised me, Erik. He taught me to sing. He taught me to be a good person. And I lost him at the worst time in my life. I have never been able to get over it.” The tears were truly flowing with those words. “Until last night, I no longer wished to sing. I still love the opera, but I feel like I could never be a part of it again. I feel like I’m on the outside looking in at the most beautiful spectacle possible.” She said going on when he did not push her.

“Do you think he would want you to give up on your passion, because of him?” Erik asked knowing if her father was the kind of man she claimed he would not.

“No, but after what happened I don’t deserve to be happy. So his wishes mean nothing anymore.” She said bitterness creeping into her voice.

“Everyone deserves to be happy if possible, Lily. What would make you think you don’t deserve happiness?” He couldn’t imagine anything she could have done to bring on such self-loathing.

“He’s dead because of me, Erik.” She whispered and then broke into sobs. She couldn’t say anymore, and she was ashamed that she had broken down in front of him.

He didn’t know what to say to her admission, but he did know what to do. He reached out pulling her into his arms. She didn’t pull away this time. She laid her head on his uninjured shoulder letting the tears fall. Soon she fell asleep like that, lying on his shoulder with his good arm wrapped around her. “My precious angel, how could you ever be responsible?” He whispered kissing her brow.

[Meluivan Indil]

A Star Is Recognized

Lily enjoyed the freedom her job as costume designer allowed her. She came and went as she pleased, working when she wished, which afforded her the opportunity to visit Erik often while he recovered. She spent time with no one other than he and Meg Giry. The other ballet rats avoided her. In a business where beauty was key it was not popular to sport a scar such as the one Lily had gained. She was not overly concerned with the fact that the others avoided her. She did not need their company.

It was a busy day at the opera house. They were about to start practice for the opera Hannibal, which she knew well. The owners were even in house that day. There was quite a lot of excitement floating around the backstage area, as it was rumored that the opera house had gained a new Patron. Lily noticed a rather large man standing with the owners speaking. She guessed he was the man the rumors were all about.
She cringed as the owners started over to her. “Ah Lily, please come meet Viscount Chenard. He is to be our new Patron.” Monsieur Blanchet requested, pulling her over to them. “May I present Mademoiselle Lily. She is the finest costume designer I have ever seen.”

“Monsieur Blanchet, please you flatter too much.” Lily complained bowing her head. Her face had taken on a ghostly pallor as she heard the Viscounts name. He could not recognize her.

The Viscount bent over her hand placing a kiss there. “Enchanted, Mademoiselle.” He gave her the most gracious smile he could. He didn’t immediately let go of her hand, and Lily did not wish to make a scene. “Pardon, my stare. But you look so familiar. Have you ever been to Venice?”

Lily swallowed hard trying to control her reaction. “No, Sir. You must mistake me for another. Pardon me. I have work to do.” She pulled her hand from his and made her way off of the stage. She ducked into a dark corner backstage taking deep breaths trying to control her frazzled emotions.

“That was too close, Lily.” She whispered to herself.

She had tried to put the Viscounts visit out of her mind, throughout the rest of the day, hoping not to see him again. She made her way to the underground lake ringing the bell that Erik had tied to a pole letting him know she was there. He would soon come to her in the gondola he used to cross the lake. All disturbing thoughts left her mind as she saw the gondola come into view. She treasured her visits with him so much. She began to get into the gondola as he poled it to the lakes edge but he shook his head. “No. Tonight we go elsewhere.”

“Where?” She asked.

“I wish for you to do something for me.” He said taking her hand and leading her back through the tunnels.

“Erik. Why such mystery?” She asked as he refused to say anymore.

His answer was nothing more than a smile. She looked at him in confusion when he led her to the stage. He placed her in the middle of the stage, and then took up a place in the orchestra pit at the organ. “I wish to hear you sing, Lily.” He said simply.

“But you have heard me sing, Erik. I sing for you everyday.” She said staring at him in confusion.

“I want you to imagine it is opening night and you are the Prima Donna performing on this stage. I wish to see the exhilaration you spoke of upon your face.” He explained.

Lily looked around the empty auditorium. “Erik I…” She began to object.

“Please. For me.” He asked. “No one else will hear you. They are all snug in their dormitory. It is just we two.”

“What shall I sing?” She asked giving in to his request.

“What do you wish to sing?” He asked.

She remembered the last performance she had ever given. It was the opera they were performing then, Hannibal. “The aria from Hannibal.” She answered and then waited for the music to start. Her voice lifted with the aria from the third act.

Think of me

Think of me fondly

When we’ve said goodbye

He would not tell her that, that was the first solo Christine ever performed on the stage. It would not sit well with Lily. But as he listened he forgot about the past and just concentrated upon her performance. She was hesitant at first but as the music formed in her mind the words began to flow. He could see the pure exhilaration on her face as she became lost in the performance. Her passion for the music and song were beautiful to behold.

At that moment Monsieur Blanchet was leaving the building with the Viscount. “Wait. What is that music?” The Viscount asked.

“It is the aria from Hannibal. Our Prima Donna, Angelique must be practicing late.” Blanchet suggested.

The Viscount shook his head. “The voice sounds so familiar. Please can we not look in upon her?”

“Of course. Come.” As they made their way into the owners box Blanchet was shocked to see the woman on the stage. “Lily.”

The Viscount was standing in awe listening to the familiar voice. “Lily Giroux.” He whispered. “I knew she seemed familiar.”

“What do you speak of, Viscount?” Blanchet asked still in shock at the performance he was watching.

“Lily Giroux was the Prima Donna of La Fenice opera house in Venice five years ago. She was magnificent. She still is.” He answered watching Lily. “Blanchet, who is playing the organ?” The Viscount asked noticing Erik.

Blanchet looked for the first time to the man playing the music. A shocked gasp left his lips as he saw the mask. “We must get down there.” He said in a panic leaving the box.

Lily was on the last line when the two men came from backstage. She looked at them in shock realizing they had heard her. Then turned to Erik knowing he could not be found there. But he had already seen them and had disappeared. She let out a deep sigh of relief.

“Lily. What goes on here?” Blanchet asked staring into the empty orchestra pit.

“Nothing, Monsieur.” She stammered.

“Who was in that pit a moment ago?” He demanded.

“Just a friend, Sir.” She answered.

The Viscount interrupted them. “I never thought to see you again, Lily. Your performance has improved if anything in the last five years.”

She began to shake her head. He remembered her. “You are mistaken, Sir. I do not perform.” She insisted.

“Do you deny being Lily Giroux?” He asked.

She hadn’t heard her surname in five years, and wished she never would again. She knew he would not accept a denial. “I don’t use that name anymore, Viscount. I am just Lily now.”

“Why did you not tell me of this, Lily?” Blanchet accused.

“There is nothing to tell. I do not perform. I am a costume designer.” She insisted.

“After listening to your voice I believe you belong on the stage. Why would you ever give it up?” Blanchet asked in disbelief.

She turned away from them not knowing what to say.

“You have not sung since it happened.” The Viscount suggested, in a knowing tone.

“What happened?” Blanchet asked.

“Her father was murdered. Some say she witnessed it. Others say she committed it.” The Viscount explained when she remained quiet.

She swung around in anger. “I don’t care what your fancy title is. If you ever suggest I killed my father again, you will regret it, Sir.” She spat as the rage took her.

“I was not suggesting that, Lily. I understand that losing your father the way you did, that you would have a hard time remaining in the opera.” The Viscount tried to calm her.

“I no longer wish to have this conversation, Sir.” She said still seething in anger, as she walked past them and off the stage. She went to her own room and locked the door behind her. In her anger she wanted to destroy the room. She settled for throwing a vase of roses against the wall listening to the crash of broken glass.

“Don’t blame the roses. It’s my fault they heard you.” A voice spoke up from the darkened corner. It did not surprise her that he was there.

“How can people be so cruel?” She asked walking over and kneeling to pick up one of the roses, from the pile of broken glass.

“You think his death was your fault.” He said remembering the conversation they had had about her father. “Can you tell me why now?”

Of course Erik would have heard what the Viscount said. She didn’t want to tell him about it. But she knew he would never give up until he knew. “I was such a silly young girl.” She started. “La Fenice opera house in Venice. It was so beautiful. I had just gained the lead a few months before. My father was so proud. We were performing Hannibal. I was staring opposite a promising young actor. He was the most handsome man I had ever seen. And against my father’s wishes I became infatuated with him. I was stupid not to have seen what he was truly like. I stupidly went so far as to tell him I loved him. I trusted him not to hurt me. I was wrong.”

She paused remembering the most painful night of her life. She made her way to the bed sitting, as her legs began to shake. “He took advantage.” She whispered. “He took everything from me. My innocence, my faith in the human race, and worst of all he took my father.” She looked up at him and he could see the tears shining in her eyes, along with the worst pain he could imagine.

Erik flinched as she admitted the pain she had suffered. He knew men could be despicable, but the thought of her having to face such a fate, hurt him more than he could imagine. He wished he could tell her that not all of the human race was that cruel, but he had, had very few dealings with people that did not leave him hurt himself. So he waited silently for her to continue her story.

“When my father found me in my dressing room, he didn’t have to ask what happened. He knew. He left without saying anything. Later they came and told me that his body had been found in an alley a few blocks away. I still wonder to this day whether he was killed by the actor, or just in a chance robbery. I feel I know, but have no proof.” Her voice was bitter with the frustration of not truly knowing. “I left Venice, and left behind who I had been. Now I see I can never truly escape my past.”

He walked over to her and kneeled in front of her taking one of her hands in his. “Lily. I’m sorry. I had no idea it was that horrible. I wish I could remove the pain in your soul. I would take it upon myself if I could.”

“No Erik. I would not wish this pain on you. You have had enough pain of your own. My pain is my own. It will remain. And I will go on as I have.” She said reaching out and stroking his face. “If only things were different.” She said wistfully.

“How would you have things to be, Lily?” He asked seeing the glassy look in her eyes as she imagined.

“If only I had not been that naïve young girl, my father would be alive today, and I wouldn’t feel such emptiness inside.” She wished aloud, and then added silently to herself. ‘And if only you could love me, my life would be perfect.’

“Lily, you must stop blaming yourself for his death. He did what any father who had been in his place should do. He did what I would have done. Only that young actor would be the one found dead in an alley.” Erik vowed feeling immense anger at the unknown man.

“Don’t talk that way, Erik. I don’t want you to ever kill because of me.” She said taking his hands in her own.

“He deserves worse than death, Lily.” Erik growled.

“Promise me, Erik. Killing takes something from a person’s soul. I don’t want you to lose your beautiful soul. Promise me, Erik.” She demanded.

“Lily. You know I have taken life before.” Erik said not wanting any secrets between them.

“Yes I know, Erik. And I can see in your eyes already what it has cost you. But you must not become accustomed to it. It would destroy you in the end. Please promise me.” She pleaded with him.

“I can’t promise you that, Lily. If someone tries to harm you I will not stand back and let them. What I will promise is that I will not go looking for someone to kill.” He tried to compromise. He could see that she would hold him to it to. He thought of something then that worried him. “Lily. You know that I would never do anything to hurt you don’t you?”

She looked at him in surprise. She did not trust men. She hadn’t in years, but somehow with Erik it had been different. She was positive he would rather die than hurt her. “Yes, Erik. I know that. You are different from the other men I have known. I know you would never hurt me like that. I trust you, Erik.” She whispered laying her head on his shoulder accepting the comfort he was offering her.

[Meluivan Indil]

The Ultimatum

Gossip was floating around the opera house following Monsieur Blanchet’s discovery. Everyone had already heard of Lily’s true identity, along with the strange story of her father’s death. And to top that off, it was said that Lily had taken the Phantom as her lover. As she went about her work, everywhere she turned she saw people whispering, and they would become quiet as she approached. She had never been the source of so much gossip in all of her days at La Fenice. But now the stories were becoming wilder and wilder.

“You must not let them get to you, Lily.” Meg spoke to her as she warmed up for practice.

“I try not, but until now my life was lost in obscurity. I find it hard to be in the center of attention again. If only I could go back a few days and change things. I liked my quiet life as the costume designer.” Lily confessed to the dancer.

“I will not ask you about the situation in Venice, Lily. You wanted your past to remain in the past. I can respect that. But I must ask you a question.” Meg said stopping her warm up and moving closer to Lily so as to not be overheard.

“I know what you will ask, Meg. Please trust me to know what I am doing.” She asked not wanting to listen to a lecture concerning Erik.

“I don’t want to see you hurt.” Meg said in response.

“There are many people in this world that would hurt me before he would, Meg.” Lily said with strong conviction.

“Are you sure?” Meg knew she could not push Lily too much without pushing her away, but she was playing with fire.

“I have not been more sure of anything.” Lily vowed.

“I trust you, Lily.” Meg said continuing her warm up. But just as suddenly they heard a scream from backstage. “What was that?”

Lily and Meg rushed back stage to see Angelique the star of the opera sitting on the floor screaming at anyone within hearing. “You horrible, horrible pigs. You did that on purpose, to hurt me.” She screamed at two of the stagehands in particular.

“No, Mademoiselle. It was an accident.” One of the hands tried to calm her. Lily could see a bucket of blue paint tipped over next to a piece of scenery that was being painted. She could also see blue paint covering most of the star. She could not help but have a laugh at one of her biggest tormentors.

“And what do you laugh at, Freak? You and your crazy Phantom do not belong in this opera house. You two are perfect for each other. Crazy and grotesque.” Angelique screamed at Lily.

Lily’s laughter was cut off by the harsh words. She new a response was warranted, but she was shocked that anyone there would dare to say such a thing about the dreaded Opera Ghost. She turned and walked away going to her own room. She knew Erik would not be there. It was daytime, and she should be working, so he would be in his lair. She didn’t want to see him anyway. She was ashamed that she had not defended him.

She spent the rest of the morning working by herself on the costumes for the opera. That afternoon she was surprised to hear a knock upon her door. “Come.” She called out.

When the door opened it was Madame Giry. “Antoinette. You have not visited with me in a long time.” She smiled.

“I’m sorry, Lily. But I am just here to deliver a message. And you will not like it.” Antoinette said sitting on the bed.

A frown crossed Lily’s face at her words. “Go ahead.”

“During the accident this morning Angelique broke her ankle.” Antoinette said first, and Lily began to realize the gist of the conversation.

“Is this message from Blanchet?” She asked hoping she would say no.

“Yes. He says that you are to take over the lead role in Hannibal.” The older woman seemed to have a note of pity in her voice.

“I will not. He knows I no longer perform.” Lily stood and started pacing the room in outrage.

“I’m sorry, Lily. He gives you no choice. If you do not take the role you are to be fired and removed from the opera house.” Antoinette explained.

“How can he do that?” Lily stopped pacing and stood before Antoinette.

“He owns the opera. He can do as he pleases. I’m sorry, Lily. He wants your answer by tomorrow.”

Antoinette reached out putting a comforting hand on Lily’s own.

“This can not be happening.” Lily said as her hands began to tremble in anger. She wanted to pick something up and throw it, but refrained while Madame Giry was in the room. She respected the woman, and did not want a temper tantrum to ruin her image before her. “What do I do?”

“You do what you must, child.”

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Lily didn’t care what time of day it was. She made her way down to the catacombs. She did not wait for Erik to bring the gondola. She dove into the water wading through the passages until she came to his lair. As she entered she could see him sitting at his organ working on his latest composition. He turned as he heard her splashing through the water. “Lily. What is wrong?” He immediately stood and made his way to her, helping her out of the water.
“Those bastards. Those vultures. I hope they rot in hell.” She stated in seething anger.

“Who, Lily?”

“Blanchet and Chenard.” She spat the names out as if they held a foul taste. “They have given me an ultimatum.”

Erik nodded at her words. “I wondered if something like this would happen. Let me guess. You perform or you’re out.”

“Yes. I have until tomorrow morning to make my decision. What choice do I have, Erik? I have no where to go.” Lily said sitting on the nearest seat and resting her head in her hands, covering her eyes. But truly in her heart she had realized that not having a home meant less to her than not being able to see Erik.

“Unfortunately they know that, Lily. I wish I had never asked you to sing on that stage. This is my fault.” He kneeled in front of her and wrapped her in his arms.

“No, Erik. I have to admit. It felt good to be up there again, with you watching me. I felt almost as if the past was erased.” She admitted wrapping her arms around his waist.

“Then what does it matter if they want you to perform?” Erik asked in confusion.

“Because I was singing for you then. I don’t want to sing for them. I want to sing for you alone.” She said snuggling into his chest deeper reveling in the warmth he offered her.

“Lily, I may not always be there for you. You must learn to live again. To live without me.” He said running his fingers through her hair absently.

“Not now, Erik. Let me lean on you for a while longer. At least until I’m stronger.” She wanted to scream at him that she never wanted to learn to live without him. But she held her tongue knowing it would not be what he wanted to hear. “I will do as they ask, Erik, but only under one condition.” She finally said pulling away from him.

“What is that?” He said seeing the determination in her eyes.

“If I am to sing for you, you must have somewhere to watch from.” She said remembering the stories she had been told by the ballet rats.

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“You want box 5 to remain open for all performances.” Blanchet asked in exasperation.

“That is my only concession. If I see anyone in that box, I do not perform.” She demanded.

“Give it to her, Blanchet.” Viscount Chenard said slapping him on the back. “She’s worth it.”

“Oh all right. Box 5 is yours.” Blanchet gave in.

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The opening performance was in less than a week so Lily knew she would have to practice night and day. The day before the performance she was standing on the stage waiting for the chorus to finish their number before she started.

Lily stood looking at the props spread out on the prop table. She was becoming more and more nervous as the hours drew nearer to the time she must perform. How had she let them con her into doing this?

She heard snickering in the background, and knew it was Angelique. Even though the Prima Donna could not perform she insisted upon attending every rehearsal standing on crutches, probably in hopes of watching Lily flop. Lily just sighed feeling as an outsider, yet again.

The next sound was full out hysterical laughter. She started to shake her head. “And what are you hyenas cackling about now?” She asked turning to face them.

She heard more snickers and several of the ballet rats bowed their heads in seeming shame to have been caught. Only Angelique was brave enough to repeat what was so funny. “Oh some of us were wondering if you would need help doing your makeup on opening night, you know, to cover that nasty scar.” Angelique said innocently. “You are planning on covering it, aren’t you? Unless you’re planning on becoming the next Phantom of the Opera.” They all broke out in hysterical laughter.

Lily just nodded at the statement and then turned around facing the prop table again fidgeting with a prop.

Erik was perched in his normal hiding place in the flies watching the rehearsal. His blood began to boil at that pruning peacocks gall to say such a disgusting thing. He began to formulate a plan of revenge in his mind, but stopped when Lily began to speak in a calm smooth voice.

“You know I have heard a lot of stories concerning this Phantom, that you all mock.” She started quietly still fiddling with the prop in her hand.

“I bet you have.” Angelique said sweetly.

Lily ignored the comment and continued to talk. “You know I heard that anyone who dared to mock him, or interfere in his business found themselves in a very compromising position.” She smiled a knowing smile.

“And what position are you speaking of?” Angelique asked, not liking the sweet tone of Lily’s voice.

“Angelique, let me give you one piece of advice.” Lily swung around throwing the prop in her hand at the other woman. The end of the Punjab lasso landed perfectly around her neck, and Lily yanked just enough to tighten it. “Keep your hand at the level of your eyes.”

Angelique sputtered in complete astonishment, as her face blazed red in embarrassment.

Lily smiled sweetly at her then tossed the end of the rope to one of the others as she strode passed them and off stage.

Erik stood in astonished silence in the flies. He could not have planned that better himself.

The others below heard a deep chuckle floating through the auditorium surrounding them. They each looked to one another in utter fright.