The Opera Ghost

DISCLAIMER: Sadly, I do not own the Phantom of the Opera, but I DO own this new guy…and Liana…and Madame Bellamont…and Mademoiselle LaViola…and all those other characters that you do not recognize. They’re mine. And I keep them in my closet. Enjoy!

Aiden was in his room, getting ready. Madame Bellamont had placed him in a vacant dorm, so he was the only one in there. He felt quite lonely, and longed for the accompaniment of Liana. He felt like she was the one for him; she was perfect. She was a beautiful dancer, and she was different from any other girl he had ever met. Girls usually just fawned over his good looks, but not Liana. No, Liana was different.

It was the night of the grand recital. The routine was finished, and Aiden was getting ready. He had on a black leotard with a white, puffy shirt over it. Monsieur Fantôme wanted him to wear a black jacket over the combo as well, but they found that it was too heavy. AKA, hard to dance in.

Aiden could not help but remember what Liana’s costume was, and how amazing she looked in it. It was almost an exact replica of Christine’s outfit from The Phantom of the Opera, except instead of a long skirt, it was a tutu, covered with many colored fabrics. He saw the small grey light that filtered through the small window shine on Liana’s pale, smooth skin, peaking out on her shoulders, and he longed to touch it. Just to see if it was as smooth as it looked.

“I love it, Monsieur Fantôme,” Liana had exclaimed, twirling around in the room. Aiden could hear the admiration in her voice, and not for the dress. “Did you create this yourself?”

“Yes, I did, ma chere,” Monsieur answered. Once again, Aiden heard that tone again. “As well as being a gifted dancer and choreographer, I am also a fantastic seamstress. I have been working on these for awhile now.”

Liana stared happily at the ceiling, almost in a way that some of Aiden’s admirers had stared at Aiden.

Aiden slammed his fist on the wall of his dorm. She loved him, and he could not bear that. How could she love someone she could not see? Someone she has only heard? Indeed, that did make him seem more mysterious, but even so. At least he, Aiden, was tangible.

He took a deep breath and made his way to the door. He reached out for the old, bronze handle when suddenly, something covered his mouth. He struggled against his attacker, but he or she was very strong. The last thing he remembered was someone trying to take his shirt off, and himself thinking,

Damn fan girls.

~( )~

Liana woke with a start.

Surely, that was not a dream, she wondered to herself.

She looked around the room, obviously looking for someone. But she was the only one there. She let out a long, drawled out sigh, and wiped the sleep from her eyes. The alarm clock on her nightstand read 4:23. The performance started at 7.

Monsieur Fantôme had urged her to get some sleep before the performance, which had been two hours ago. Liana doubted that she would be able to fall back asleep, but she dearly wanted to; now she was going to have to wait for a whole hour and a half to get ready. But it was better than waking up too late.

Liana sat herself up on her bed so that her feet were dangling, and tried to recall the dream she had been having. It was a beautiful, peaceful dream, and she was angry with herself for waking up.

She had seen him. She had been with him. They were somewhere, underneath the opera house, perhaps, for there were cave walls surrounding them. They had simply being staring each other, taking in what the other looked like. Liana was wearing her tutu, and Monsieur Fantôme was wearing Aiden’s costume.

He looked just like she had always imagined he would. Not exactly like the phantom, no, Monsieur Fantôme had brown hair that was slightly curled. He was face was strong, and bold, but beautiful all at the same time. He had deep, sea blue eyes, and a friendly, yet intimidating smile, something Liana feared and adored all at the same time. He was not wearing a mask; his face was perfect. Beautiful. Smooth. Pale. Wonderful. He appeared to look about 20, give or take a few years.

The dream Liana had heard a noise behind her, and Aiden was standing in the doorway, breathing heavily, as if he had been running for a long time. He looked at Liana, with the saddest expression she had ever seen, and it had hurt her, hurt her more than she ever thought it could. She felt something wet drip down her cheek, and she touched her face to discover that it was a tear. She had shed a tear.

And then she woke.

Liana shivered as she remembered the sensation that she felt when she was staring into Monsieur Fantôme’s eyes, and felt a stab in her heart when she saw Aiden. Who did she love?

She wanted to say Monsieur Fantôme, of course, but she could not. Aiden was still there in the back of her mind. Liana punched her pillow in frustration. She had remembered herself, only a few months ago, wishing that something like this would happen to her, and now she was regretting ever making that wish. It just hurt too much.

The clock now read 4:30, and Liana sighed. She pulled out her iPod, and turned on Past the Point of No Return, and went through the routine in her mind, again and again.

~( )~

Liana paced up and down the curtains, eagerly looking over to see if Aiden was in his wing yet, but it did not appear to be so.

Madame Bellamont came up to her, and told her to relax.

“Du calme, du calme!” she soothed in the French language. “It will be alright.”

“I’m not so sure, Madame,” she whispered to her, sensing her quivering voice. “Oh, where is he?”

“I’m sure he will be here, ah!” she exclaimed, breathing a sigh of relief. Across the stage was Aiden, in his costume. He was wearing his skeleton-like mask, so it was hard to see his expression, but he was definitely staring right at Liana.

“Zere he iz!” Madame Bellamont cried, rubbing her temple. “Now we must begin.”

Madame grabbed one of the stage hand’s headsets and gave the ok to the sound booth.

“Wait, Madame!” she called out to her superior. Madame Bellamont had reluctantly, and impatiently, paused for Liana. “Is he…here? Is he watching?”

Liana bit her lip and anxiously awaited Madame’s answer. She grimaced.

“’e usually sits in that box, over there.” She pointed to the box across the stage, and it was empty. “Je suis desolee, mon enfant. I have no idea about his whereabouts.”

Liana sighed to herself, but the lights dimmed, and Liana walked out onto the stage, with her basket of roses.

Oh how her heart pounded. Nothing could explain what she was feeling right now. Anxiety, excitement, nervousness, and so many more feelings were jumbled up inside of her like vegetables in a chicken pot pie.

She sat down on the stage floor, crossing her feet next to her, and began to pretend to pull the thorns off of her roses.

Monsieur Fantôme had cut the music so that it would begin as soon as the Phantom began to sing, so I heard the familiar tune.

You have come here…

The song continued and Liana pretended to be distracted by the roses. That is, until Aiden did something unexpected, and not part of the choreography. He brushed his hand across her neck, and up around her face, turning Liana’s head along with it. Instead of seeing emerald green eyes, she saw deep, sea blue, and her heart stopped. It was him. It was Monsieur Fantôme.

As quickly as he had come, he whipped towards the back of the stage, performing the routine as choreographed, with Liana staring after him, longing apparent in her eyes.

Liana had thought that Aiden was amazing; Monsieur Fantôme was ten times better. He danced as if he were on ice skates, and not in ballet slippers. He turned, he leaped, he bowed, he dipped, he dove, he…he danced. It was amazing.

Finally, as if it had all happened in a matter of seconds instead of minutes, the last verse of the Phantom rang through the air.

Beyond the point of no return…

Liana had but a second to stand up and shakily begin her choreography.

You have brought me…

Liana ran through the choreography as best as she could. She wanted so badly to sit and stare at him, who stood in the corner of the stage mysteriously, frozen in a pose.

When will the flames at last consume us…

Monsieur Fantôme’s arms were around her in a second, doing exactly as he had taught Aiden and Liana.

Aiden. Aiden? Who was Aiden?

Liana did not care. She was there, with Monsieur Fantôme. They were dancing together, and neither of their eyes left the other.

They grabbed each other’s hands and kicked off to the side, so that they looked like a giant pair of angel wings on the middle of the stage, and they could hear the “oohs!” and “aahs!” of the audience.

Liana was not even aware of the fact that there was an audience until that point.

We’ve past the point of no return…

And the song was over. The entire five minute song that had been choreographed, was over. And yet, his arms were still around her, his face in her hair. Liana smelled a musty scent, but it was nice, and enchanting, and not as repelling as one might thing.

Liana heard that familiar voice whisper in her ear, and she shivered in pleasure.

“Say you’ll share with me one love, one lifetime,” he wasn’t singing; he was asking. “Lead me, save me, from my solitude. Say you’ll want me with you here, besides you. Anywhere you go let me go, too.”

He paused, and let out a sigh, preparing for what he what was going to happen next. He believed that Liana was going to pull his mask off, to see what he looked like.

“Liana, that’s all I ask of…you.”

Instead, she turned around and stared straight into his eyes, still encased in his strong, muscular arms. She smiled a truly, genuinely, happy smile. Which he returned.

He leaned in toward her lips, like she had always wished he would, and he kissed her forehead, causing her heart to fall. Liana heard a small ‘plop’ next to her feet. She looked down, and saw a small rose, slowly being joined by more and more roses, and confetti.

Monsieur Fantôme nudged her with his nose, and she reluctantly turned around to acknowledge the audience. She stepped away from his warm body, and bowed to the roaring crowd. She did not care about them, though; she wanted to return to her Phantom. But when she turned around, he was gone.

Aiden had run out onto the stage in nothing but a pair of boxers, not caring who saw him. Liana stifled a giggle. He saw her, and ran to Liana, worry in his eyes. All of the other dancers hiding backstage were squealing in delight at seeing his perfect body.

“The performance is over?” he asked her quickly, putting his arms on his shoulders. “Liana, I am so sorry I missed…it…wait a second…who did you dance with?”

Liana, whose eyes had found a sudden interest on the wooden stage below her, slowly looked up into his pained eyes. She did not need to tell him who she had danced with. His body fell to the floor, resting on his knees, so that his face was eye-level with her tutu.

“Aiden, I…” But her voice trailed off. She did not know what to say to him. “I…”

He suddenly stood up, his eyes down casted to the floor. He only said one thing to her, and it was only but a whisper,

“Goodbye.”

And then, he was gone. To him, she had not just simply danced with Monsieur Fantôme; she had chosen him. Liana covered her mouth and stopped a sob from escaping, and slowly turned around. The audience had become silent while they had been watching the events unfold, waiting.

She could not bear to see their expectant faces any longer, and she took off running, not looking back, not stopping until she was safely hidden behind the door to the girl’s dorms.