Pursuit of Your Deepest Urge©
Chapter One: Prologue
By Genevieve Lee

Genny's Note: This is probably not too smart, to start another story when I am barley through writing the second chapter of my newest story. But I couldn't help myself. So enjoy the prologue to "Pursuit of Your Deepest Urge."

Disclaimed: If I owned "The Phantom of the Opera" I would be doing better things with my life. But I do not. This goes for the whole story. I will not repeat this in any other chapter.

POV- Christine

Prologue (noun)
A preface or introductory part of a discourse, poem, or novel.

She saw blackness, besides the few shapes floating around in her vision that could not be comprehended. One kept moving, pacing actually. It made her dizzy and she shut her eyes again. But away from that, she saw nothing. She shifted a little and immediately regretted the decision as pain shot through her head; a feeling much like a hammer pounding on a wall. She groaned involuntarily and moved again, hoping to make the pain go away. Her efforts did nothing, causing her to put a limp hand to her forehead as she did her best to see beyond the looming and blurry shapes. Someone's voice broke the eerie silence.

"Christine. Mon cher. Are you alright?" Raoul's face floated over her.

She looked up at the man hovering around, a worried expression etched all over his face. She whimpered as he put a hand to her head and more pain contracting itself through her skull. She point-blankly ignored him, more interested in the ongoing conflict in her head. She could not remember how she had gotten here.

Pieces of information clung to her memory. Raoul soaked to the bone and tied to a gate. Erik mask less and looking more angry and hurt than ever, the chandelier falling, then a fire. It was like an endless jigsaw puzzle, though; one too difficult to be able to put the pieces together.

She strained to remember. Nothing pieced together correctly and it was frustrating. She looked up at the man above her. His eyebrows were knotted together in the middle of his face as he gazed down lovingly at her.

"W-what happened last night?" Christine asked weakly.

"Christine, you're tired…let's just wait until-"

"No. Tell me now." She said more sternly. And Christine, never really the one to stand up for herself, made the man standing next to her bedside comply.


"You know, life is funny sometimes." Christine said, filling in the awkward silence that followed the retelling of last night's events. After a few brief reminders, everything from last night came back to her. It hit her with such intensity, not one detail slipped her mind. She could even count the tears Erik shed as she kissed him…

"Funny? How?" The man asked incredulously, breaking Christine away from her thoughts.

"Not funny, 'Haha.' Funny, ironic." She replied, fingering the comforter aimlessly.

"What do you mean?" He asked, almost like he was hurt.

Christine immediately regretted her words. This man had done so much for her, and here she was going, practically mocking him. "No…I mean," She stammered, feeling like a complete fool. She paused, trying to collect her thoughts. "Do you believe in fate?"

"What?"

"Do you believe in fate?" She repeated, staring blankly at a wall.

"Like, what kind of fate?" He asked her softly.

"Do you think we're meant to be with someone? And no matter what happens, no matter what mistakes you have made in the past, it will eventually never matter?"

He was silent for several moments before responding. "I do not know Christine…" He trailed off, his blue eyes looking deep into her brown ones. "Do…do you regret your decision?"

She gazed at him for several long moments before turning away and looking out the window. "I am not too sure Raoul. I'm not sure of anything anymore.

Genny's Note: If you haven't figured it out, this takes place the night after the "famous disaster" in The ALW musical. But it will also contain elements from Kay and Leroux as well.