I warn those who are reading this chapter. I really, REALLY think its bad. Not bad in a grammatical way, or a spelling way. Just bad. And awkward to write. Because I had to stick to the movie plot.
Next chapter'll probably be better, and flow more easily, because (warning) that's when the deviation - at least in character relationships, and in a small way, plot - will actually begin.
And Raoul did NOT recognise Christine last chapter; he thought of her as some random chorus girl, which is why he looked away dismissively. And why she was angry.
Reviews are (as always) truly appreciated, and my heartfelt thanks to those who took the time to review last chapter!
It was odd, really.
Though we had rehearsed thoroughly, my nerves had been raw – why, I had even snapped at Meg!
Waiting backstage, fear had gripped me; my throat drying, breath and heart-beat quickening.
And yet, when I had finally (with the urging of Madame Giry) tentatively stepped into the audience's gaze, and the first sounds came from my mouth, it was…
There was no other way to describe it; the sensation of the music surrounding me, lifting me, caressing me in its magically ensnaring grip.
It felt as though I was back in the room where my voice mingled in a harmony of the purest song with that of my Angel.
And though I had no indication of my Angel being here, I sang to him; for him. The audience all-but vanished for me – all the audience, that is, but one; the Angel who had given my voice its soul - its music...
Raoul's POV (for the first, and probably only, time in my entire fan-fiction career)
Though I had been most relieved when the chorus girl with the sweet voice had taken over from that insufferable Spanish diva, that had been my only thought in relation to the young brunette; a means by wish I would avoid the suffering of my ears.
"Oh god..." I whispered, "is that...Christine...?!" Standing dazedly as the instrumental music swelled in a crescendo – in harmony with the tumultuous applause – I clapped, looking down at her in shock.
All of a sudden, the way her eyes had met mine made sense.
"No wonder she was looking at me," I groaned, head in hands, "and I treated her like a mere chorus girl!"
I rushed from the box, striding purposefully down the stairs. I had no idea of what I would say to her – but to have the opportunity to speak to her, I was determined.
Christine's POV (thank god, because writing from Raoul's POV is vaguely difficult. And I think that I stuffed up his character.)
The last note of the cadenza (which, to my relief was actually in tune) hovered in the room for a long moment, before it was drowned out by thunderous applause. Short of breath, I stood frozen to the stage, blushing furiously.
Nervously, I curtseyed, before pivoting around and almost running from the audience's eye, smiling and nodding indiscriminately at the onrush of cast members offering me their congratulations.
"Well done, Christine!" Meg offered, and I smiled wanly at her; stage fright – belated though it was – was finally starting to wash over me, and I felt slightly sick. I'd been caught up by the moment; the music, the audience, everything. But now that I was away from it all…!
Meg, being the wonderful, observant friend that she was, immediately noticed my paleness, and shooed everyone else away, clearing a path for us to walk.
"Are you alright?" she asked, concerned. I nodded.
"Are you sure….? Evidently, she wasn't convinced. I nodded again, more fervently this time.
"Meg Giry!" someone shouted, "your mother wants you!"
My blonde friend sighed dramatically, before racing away.
"I'll be back soon, Christine!" she called over her shoulder.
Deciding to take advantage of Meg's absence, I made my way down to the small, in-Opera-House chapel. Kneeling before the altar, I prayed silently that my Angel had found my performance to be pleasing.
With a gasp, I fairly leapt to my feet – to hear Meg's voice calling me.
"Where on earth have you been, Christine?" Meg demanded. I suppressed a smile at her indignation, and attempted to look apologetic. She rolled her eyes.
"Well hurry! Everyone is waiting for you!" She grasped my wrist firmly, dragging me from the room.
He watched with annoyance as the Giry girl dragged Christine from the room; effectively denying him the opportunity to properly congratulate her – for her performance had truly been breathtaking…
"Soon, she will no longer require my instruction…" he sighed sadly, as he turned away from the small chapel room.
Determinedly, he pushed away the unwelcome thoughts.
I still have time, he told himself firmly, she will not accept – nor encourage – any idiot suitors while she still needs me.
I have time…
So...was it bad???
And I was GOING to do Erik's bit at the end in first person, but decided that I'd butchered enough characters for the time being.
Reviews are nice, and give me encouragement to force my way through writing - even in the face of the dreaded Writing-Block dragon!