My name is Christine Daaé. I am a seventeen year old soprano. I live in the Opera Populaire, and perform in many operas. My whole life revolves around my love for the arts. I sing, dance, and act. It runs in my family. My father played the violin, my mother danced and now teaches ballet, and my sister dances as well. My sisters' fiancé, Raoul, is one of the owners of the Opera House. My father died when I was thirteen, but I still continue to live with my mother and sister. My sister and I are very close. We both loved our father dearly, but don't let the fact that he's gone ruin our career. I have many friends in the Opera House. We tell each other stories of the so-called "Opera Ghost." They say he used to sing in operas. He would write most of them. He disappeared the same night the chandelier fell to the stage. Some say he was responsible. No one really knows. His name is Gerard Butler. He also disappeared about the same time my father died. Others think that he murdered my father, but my father died of a rare disease. As my father died, he told Meg and I that we'd be protected by the Angel of Music. Meg wasn't superstitious, but I was. Sometimes when I'd pray or mourn for my father, I'd hear a voice. Oh, how that voice was so perfect and heavenly. I really believed it was the angel! Meg thought I was a little weird for believing, but I was certain that I had heard the voice of an angel. The voice and I would sing in duets, and he'd teach me. I've learned much from him. Not only did I hear the voice, but a man would appear in my dreams. I was never certain if he was the angel or my father. After I performed in operas, a red rose with a black satin ribbon would be waiting for me in my dressing room.
I auditioned for the lead role of an opera one day. The opera was called "Hannibal." One of the girls from the Opera House, with much talent, was also trying out. Her name is Carlotta. Her audition was first. It went very well. Anyone auditioning for the lead role had to sing the first verse of "Think of me", my favorite song by the famous composer, Andrew Lloyd Webber. When Carlotta was done, Monsieur Reyer applauded. He said she was almost guaranteed the role. That made me very nervous. Monsieur Reyer was very hard to please.
"Christine Daaé, said Monsieur Reyer, You're next."
I got so nervous. I was never like this, but when I heard him respond to Carlotta's audition, the confidence I had in myself dropped.
"First I need to ask, have you had any professional training?" he said.
"Yes-well, I guess you could say that..." I said.
"What do you mean?" he asked curiously.
"Well, when I pray for my father, who has passed, I would hear a voice. I've never seen him, but he sings with me and teaches me." I said "I think he's an angel sent by my father!" I added.
"That's foolish! Ok, just sing the song." He said impatiently.
I sighed and began.
"Think of me, think of me fondly when we've said goodbye."
He seemed more interested because he leaned in and was now closer to me. I continued.
"Remember me; once in a while please promise me you'll try. When you find that once again you long, to take your heart back and be free. If you ever find a moment, spare a thought for me."
He sat there wide eyed. He said nothing I wasn't sure if I had done well or not, until he burst out in applause and gave me a standing ovation.
"Miss Daaé you have been taught by an angel!" he said still applauding. I blushed and sat down. He said:
"You got the role! Congratulations Miss Daaé!"
I smiled and said thank you. Then I had to go.
On my way out, I passed Carlotta. She asked if I got the role or not. I didn't know how to tell her without bragging, because I knew how much she wanted it. So I lied.
"They haven't told me yet..."
"Maybe I got it!" she said.
"It's possible, but we don't know for sure yet." I said calmly. Then I walked away.
I went to the chapel and prayed. Then I heard the voice.
"Brava! Brava! Bravissima!" he chanted.
"Angel! You made it possible! You made my entire career possible! How can I repay you?" I asked.
"Go to your dressing room in one hour. But make sure that you are alone." He said, his voice fading. Meg walked in and congratulated me.
"Christine, how do you have such a perfect voice?" she asked.
"I told you...it's the angel!" I replied.
"You don't seriously still believe in that, do you? She questioned.
"Of course! And he's real! Someday you'll see him! We'll both see him!" I shouted.
I went to my dressing room, alone. Just as the voice ordered. When I got there, a rose was on my bed. With the black, satin ribbon. Then the candles began to flicker. Then they went out. I was frightened. But I heard the voice, and my fear numbed. He began to sing.
"Look at your face in the mirror. I am there inside!"
I turned towards the mirror and saw the figure of a man inside. He wore a black suit, with a cloak. And on his face was a white mask.
"Angel!" I yelled, and walked slowly towards him. I took his hand gently and walked through the mirror. I then began to sing.
"In sleep he sang to me, in dreams he came. That voice which calls to me, and speaks my name. And do I dream again? For now I find! The Phantom of the Opera is there...inside my mind!"
We walked down a long staircase and then a horse appeared. He helped me up on the horse, and then he too began to sing.
"Sing once again with me, our strange duet. My power over you, grows stronger yet. And though you turn from me, to glance behind! The Phantom of the Opera is there...inside your mind!" I now saw a boat on a lake. He helped me off the horse, and onto the boat. I continued singing.
"Those who have seen your face, draw back in fear. I am the mask you wear-" But before I could finish he sang.
"It's me they hear." We both sang together:
"Your (my) spirit and my (your) voice, in one combined! The Phantom of the Opera is there...inside my (your) mind!" The boat drew towards a gate. It slowly began to rise, revealing a home-like cave. I began to sing a variation of notes, as we entered. As I sang I looked around and saw many candles, an organ above the lake, and many photos and drawings. We got out of the boat. He began to sing again, but this time it sounded as though he was singing a lullaby. As he sang, he would hold my hand, and walk me around. The photos and drawings I saw, were all of me. I felt peaceful and in a sweet way intoxicated. My soul was soaring. He turned around and walked slowly towards me. He turned me around and held me. He sang:
"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!" He showed me a mannequin. To my surprise, it was me! I fainted, but he caught me. As I rested, he finished the song:
"You alone can make my song take flight...help me make the music of the...night!"
The next day, I awoke in a swan bed. The man was nowhere to be found. A music box, with a familiar tune, began to play. I rose from the bed and searched for him. I went to see if he was playing music, but he wasn't there. A note was, however.
I will return shortly. I have gone out to pick up some things for you. You are in no danger while with me. I will protect you.
I walked around the cave, and admired the things he kept. Everything seemed to be either about me or music. I found a stack of music. They were just familiar operas. But then I saw one I've never seen or heard of, "Don Juan Triumphant By: Gerard Butler." I backed away. Gerard is the one that disappeared, the night the chandelier crashed, but the man said his name was Erik. I was really confused, and in a way, a little frightened. Then I heard Erik's voice. When he saw me, he gave me another rose. I thanked him, and we started to talk. I asked many questions.
"Is your name Erik or Gerard?"
"My real name is Gerard." He said.
"You used to be in the Opera House! Why do you live down here? Why did you say your name was Erik?" I asked.
"Yes, I am that Gerard that disappeared the night the chandelier was destroyed." He turned away but continued.
"I live down here because I was tired of working for this Opera House. The managers were rude, and Carlotta was driving me crazy!"
"So why didn't you just leave? Why did you stay?" I asked curiously.
"Because of you, Christine. I've known you for a while now, and I know of your talents. I wanted to teach you." He replied. I became speechless. I didn't know what to say.
"When you began to hear my voice, and thought that I was an angel, I couldn't just leave you. Talent must not be wasted. I knew that you'd be successful." He added.
"What happened to your face? Why must you wear a mask? I've heard rumors, but I want to know the truth." I also asked.
"It's not really deformed in anyway. I just have to wear it when I go out, so people won't recognize me. He said. He removed the mask. I gasped. He had the most handsome face I had ever seen! I recognized him.
"I remember you!" I shouted.
"It's possible, you were only thirteen then, and are seventeen now." He stated. I stared at him.
"How do you know so much about me? Why did you want to teach me so badly? I asked. He took my hand very gently and said:
"Christine, I love you. Everything I do, I do for you, out of love. Since I heard your voice, I've loved you. Since I saw your beauty, I've loved you. Since I've known you, I've loved you."
I felt as though I was going to faint again.
"I'm flattered," I said softly, "but how could it work? I live above in the Opera House and you live down here." I said.
"You can come live with me. I can give you anything you desire. I will love you forever and always take care of you. But you would have to stay here, and give up your career in that evil Opera house." He declared.
"Can I have time to think it over?" I asked.
"Of course, my dear. I will bring you back now, and you are to return to me in three days, and give me your decision." He said.
"Very well," I said, "I will see you in three days."
He kissed my hand and took me home.
The next day, I told Meg everything.
"Christine! You have to stay here!" she pleaded.
"I want to, but I think I'm in love with him..." I said.
"You just met him!" she pointed out.
"No, I've known him for years now." I replied back.
"Well, do what you think is right." She said, as though she was disappointed.
When I went to see Monsieur Reyer, about the role, I ran into Carlotta again.
"You knew this whole time that you got the role!" she yelled.
"I didn't want to hurt your feelings. I knew how much this meant to you." I said.
"It's ok, you are the better singer." Carlotta said sarcastically. Then she walked away. I was hurt. I wanted to tell Gerard, but feared of what he'd do. I decided not to tell Gerard or see Monsieur Reyer, so I went home.
When I got there, a note was sitting on my bed. It read:
My Dearest Angel,
I only count the hours until I see you again. Only two days left. If you do choose to live with me, you will still see your friends and family, every so often. I love you!
The next day I went to my mother and talked to her. She agreed with the fact that I should do what makes me happy. She said she wouldn't judge me for what I chose. She would always love me.
After I spoke with my mother, I decided that I was going to go with Gerard, so I went to see Monsieur Reyer.
"I can't play the role." I told him.
"Why not?" he asked astonished.
"Something has come up." I said.
"Who will replace you?" he asked.
"Give the part to Carlotta." I said, and then walked away.
I guess Carlotta saw me walk out of the office because she said:
"Enjoying the role?"
"Yes, but you'd enjoy it more. It's yours." I said.
"What?" she asked surprised.
"I'm leaving. I'm not going to be in your way anymore." I said.
"Where are you going?" she asked.
"To live with my love, Gerard." I answered. "Goodbye Carlotta."
"Thank you." She said smiling. "Goodbye."
The next day I decided to visit my father's grave. I bought a bouquet of roses and left. When I got to the cemetery, it began to snow. As I walked to his grave, I sang.
"You were once my one companion . . . you were all that mattered . . . You were once a friend and father, then my world was shattered . . . Wishing you were somehow here again . . . wishing you were somehow near . . . Sometimes it seemed if I just dreamed, somehow you would be here . . . Wishing I could hear your voice again . . . knowing that I never would . . . Dreaming of you won't help me to do all that you dreamed I could . . . Passing bells and sculpted angels, cold and monumental, seem, for you the wrong companions - you were warm and gentle . . . Too many years fighting back tears . . .Why can't the past just die . . .? Wishing you were somehow here again . . . knowing we must say goodbye . . . Try to forgive, teach me to live . . .
give me the strength to try . . . No more memories, no more silent tears . . .No more gazing across the wasted years . . . Help me say goodbye...help me say goodbye!" I reached his grave and began to pray. I put the roses by the tombstone and went home.
The following day, I said goodbye to my friends and family. Then Gerard came. When we got to the lake, he played the organ and I sang. It went on for hours. Then he finally asked:
"Are you going to stay here with me, or leave?"
I did nothing at first. I gave it one last thought and decided to stay. I began to sing:
"You are not alone!", and kissed him passionately.
Gerard and I were married days later. We both love each other more than anything. We both gave up our careers to be together. We still continue to sing, but only with each other. I saw my friends and family every week, just as Gerard promised. But best of all, I finally got my angel of music.
*****ALL LYRICS BELONG TO ANDREW LLOYD WEBBER!!! I DO NOT TAKE*****
*****CREDIT FOR ANY SONGS IN THIS!!!*****