The Opera Ghost

“You are almost there, ma chérie,” the voice boomed down from above, goading Liana to go further and further down, despite all of the pain that it caused her, anticipation oozing off of his voice.

Why would he do this, you may ask? Why, it is because he knew that she could do it. He also knew that she needed the proper guidance in order to accomplish such a difficult task.

Beads of sweat slid down all sides of Liana’s face as she forced herself to go lower and lower. She was almost there, she was so close. She knew that if she was able to do this, Monsieur Fantôme would be pleased with her, very pleased.

A drop of sweat slipped down her nose and slowly descended down to the floor, landing with a soft, almost nonexistent splash.

Liana heard a sigh, followed by a soft command.

“Enough,” Monsieur Fantôme whispered quietly, and Liana collapsed onto the floor, her legs shaking beneath her.

“I am sorry, monsieur,” she apologized softly, clenching her fists in anger. “Being a dancer, no matter the style, I should have already had my splits by now. I apologize.”

“’Tis alright, child,” he soothed her gently, hating to see her in so much pain, and anger. He wished so much to lie down beside her, and stroke her back until she was happy and at peace again. But he knew he could not. He cleared his throat, awakening himself from the fantasy. “Let’s move on to the routine.”

Liana took a deep breath and rose from the floor. It was only day three of her training, and she had already felt that she was a much better dancer than she was before. Thanks to Monsieur Fantôme’s training, Liana was now able to do almost every basic ballet step imaginable. Not perfectly, of course, but well enough for the monsieur to be proud of her.

The routine that Monsieur Fantôme had been choreographing for her the past couple of days was to one of Liana’s favorite songs of all time, “Past the Point of No Return,” from The Phantom of the Opera. She had smiled when she had heard it playing in the room on her second day, when he announced his music choice. He thought that it fit the situation rather well, and so did she.

He had already taught Liana part of the routine as it was, only a few eight counts of the part where Christine sings.

“What about the part where the Phantom sings, monsieur?” Liana recalled herself asking the day before.

“That part is a surprise,” he had told her, secretively. She could almost hear the smile in his voice, but was too timid to ask anything more.

Liana sat and waited for monsieur to fast-forward the song to right before Christine sings, and where the Phantom ended. Her heart fluttered as he heard the last verse being sung, and held her arms up in preparation to begin the routine.

Together, Liana and Monsieur Fantôme went through the choreography, she performing it to her best ability, and he stopping the music when she made a mistake or to correct something. Whenever Liana had made a mistake, he would not be angry or upset with her, but instead would politely correct her. She appreciated how kind he was to her.

Monsieur Fantôme finished her part of the routine, and once the music merged into the part where Christine and the Phantom began to sing together he stopped the song, and applauded her. Liana looked up into the old, wooden rafts and blushed, curtseying slightly.

“Wonderful, ma chérie,” he said to her happily, and she could hear the floorboards creak weakly as he moved around. “You are done for today.”

Liana breathed a sigh of relief; he had let her out early today, mostly as a reward for finishing the routine a day early.

“Thank you, Monsieur Fantôme,” she thanked him, and walked over to the corner to grab her dance bag.

Liana was almost at the door when he called out to her to stop. She turned around and gazed curiously up at the ceiling.

“Liana,” he began, quite reluctantly, she noticed. “Madame Bellamont has suggested that I bring in a, a young man to perform the, the beginning part of the song and also the end part…with you. He will be coming in tomorrow. The boy’s name is Aiden Peirce.”

Monsieur Fantôme heard her let out a small gasp.

“I believe that it would be safe to assume that you have heard of him?” he asked her pointedly, not a trace of amusement in his voice. Liana could sense the agitation in his strong voice. She was afraid to answer him.

“Er, yes, I have, monsieur,” she quietly responded. “I have seen advertisements for some of the productions that he has been in, but I have never seen any. I have heard that he is a fantastic dancer.”

Monsieur Fantôme could see the look of admiration on her face, despite the fact that she was looking down at the floor. She was embarrassed.

He did not like seeing her like this. He did not like seeing her fawn over some over man. Had she not realized yet that she was he? She was chosen out of all of the girls from her troupe to be his disciple, and she was going to throw that all away for some boy?

Monsieur Fantôme opened his mouth to say something again, but she had already left. Liana had assumed that when he was done talking, it was a cue for her to leave.

He paced around in his little attic space, not sure of what to do. He wanted to be the one to dance with her during the recital. He was originally going to perform it, which was why he was being so secretive with Liana. But Madame Bellamont had dissuaded him. It was such a passionate dance; he could not stand to see anyone else performing it with her other than himself. But he knew that he could not do it. He did not want to risk being seen by anyone. He did not want to have the same ending as the Phantom. But he also did not want her with that Aiden boy. He could ruin everything. Monsieur Fantôme slowly realized that this Aiden could be Liana’s Raoul.

But he shook the thought away, when he remembered that Madame Bellamont had told him the boy had a terrible off-stage personality. This was part of the reason why he had chosen this boy. It was the only way he would agree to let her go.
******

Liana walked away in a daze. She had always been a secret admirer of Aiden Peirce, and now she had the chance to dance with him. It was like a dream come true for her. This entire experience had been a dream come true for her. She was dancing ballet, and really good at it, she had someone to talk to for once, and now she was going to dance to one of her favorite songs with one of her favorite dance idols. True, she had lied to monsieur. She had seen more than just advertisements of him.

In her room back home, she had dozens of magazines with him on the cover. He was so gorgeous, so passionate, it was hard for anyone not to fall in love with him at first sight.

She looked up in time to see herself about to walk into someone, and she stopped a second before collision.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she apologized sheepishly. “I was not looking where I was going.”

The man turned around, and Liana froze. Her eyes grew wide and her heart began to pound as she saw her hero standing before her. He was just like all of the pictures she had seen of him: Perfect blond hair, grown slightly passed the ears, tall, slightly pale skin, emerald green eyes, and a lean, muscular body. She hoped and prayed to God that he was not gay.

“Well you should have been,” he said to her shortly, giving Liana a quick look over and deciding that she wasn’t worth his time. Liana blinked in surprise. She was not expecting such a rude comment coming from him, who had appeared to be so nice in the interviews she had seen him in. “I am looking for Madame Bellamont. I received a letter the other day telling her I am to dance with one lucky girl from Mademoiselle LaViula’s Dance Academy.”

His tone was dripping with sarcasm.

“Excuse me, but it is Mademoiselle LaViola’s Dance Academy,” she corrected him, pursing her lips and glaring at him. “And Madame Bellamont is in her office, on the second floor, third door on your right.”

“Whatever.” He took off for the staircase. Not even so much as a thank you or a smile.

Liana could not move. She had been so excited just seconds ago to see Aiden Peirce, and now that she finally had, he had crushed her dreams. He had treated her poorly simply because of the way she looked. Liana did not think that she was that ugly; she had been on a few dates. Granted the boys were no Abercrombie and Fitch models, but they were still living, breathing boys.

She reached up and touched her eye, for she had felt a tear escaping. She was crying. As much as she hated to admit it, Aiden Peirce had made her cry. Perhaps unintentionally, but his inconsideration for her feelings had hurt her nonetheless.

Liana made her way up to the second floor as well, but instead of going to the right, she turned to the left to go to the girl’s dormitories, where she could be alone while the rest of the girls were still having their lessons.

After quietly making her way into the room, and closing the door softly behind her, she ran all the way to the back of the room where her bed awaited her with open arms. The only comfort that she wanted at the moment was her bed and her iPod. Of course, she changed out of her sweaty leotard and tights first and exchanged them for a pair of warm, flannel pajamas and an oversized shirt. She turned on her iPod and it the time read 6:32. The other girls would be back in 28 minutes, so Liana had plenty of time to get settled in and go soundly asleep. True, it was early, but one can only handle so much training. It was arduous.

********

Monsieur Fantôme looked at her through the glass wall; the one that everyone thought was an ordinary mirror. She was crying. What had happened to her between their lesson and now? The lesson could not have been too grueling; she had never cried before. Until now.

Her tears stabbed his heart, like tiny bullets. He could not stand to see her in such a state. Perhaps the practices were too much for her. He could ease off of her…but they needed to finish the routine immediately.

Monsieur Fantôme did not know what to do. He could not reveal himself to anyone, not even his angel. Another dilemma had taken place in his heart.

“Angel of music, guide and guardian.”

Monsieur Fantôme’s head snapped up as he heard some of his favorite lyrics. She was singing Angel of Music.

“Pray to me your, glory.”

He almost cried himself.