• Chapter Two

    As work began to bring the opera back to its past glory the opera ghost had noticed a few things, for one the managers were hardly there, the crew was slow, and applications and letters flooded in from people who wanted to become actors, singers, and dancers amongst other things at the famous Opera Populaire. He read through them as they came in and placed only the worthy ones in the office of Monsieurs Firmin and André, even then he second guessed some of them and had to go back and throw others away without being noticed. Being noticed in another situation was also a problem for him, people wondered how things were getting done when the opera house was empty, such as hanging new stage curtains, patching the ceiling and touching up the mural. The workers came up with the idea that this place really was haunted and the rumors began to circulate just like at any other job, but André and Firmin knew what was really going on, especially after a specific incident.

    The two had been going on about money, trying to finance this endeavor was eating away at their savings and no shows meant no sold tickets. They were at the point to where they couldn’t even afford to pay the workers so they were fixing things on borrowed time. At this point it was almost three weeks into reconstruction and they had one day until everyone needed to be paid, all the materials and supplies were bought but they had no money left. The Phantom had heard all of the goings ons and knew what to do, he hadn’t spent nearly one percent of the money he was previously getting from the old manger so he went deep into his lair, went through his flooded trunk taking out everything but the money, keeping half of it for himself in the many drawers of his desk. That night while the Opera Populaire was quiet and no one was around he took the trunk to their office with a note that read ‘This is my donation as your new Patron, my funds will be used to pay the workers who are repairing my opera house. Should they be misused there will surely be great repercussions. Your Humble Servant, O.G.’ He then sneaked back down to his lair to sleep for the first time in a while, most of the time he was working to make this his home again but now he felt like he’d done his part.

    Three more weeks went by of nails being hammered, seats being upholstered, curtains sewn and hung, applications flooding in, and finally the stage sets were being repaired. He could almost hear the music flowing through the air like a harmonic breeze, sitting down to compose more music was on his mind after being inspired by the life breathed back into his home. But all that came to him were old words, old scores, played by old orchestras, and sung by none other than his beloved Christine, as this ran through his mind tears started to flow from his eyes again. ‘Why?’ thought the Opera Ghost, “Why?” he asked himself aloud, jumping to his feet he threw his chair back and picked up his paper and quill and ripped them apart. “I can’t even think!” he screamed, hating the fact that the only thing on his mind was the girl he’d lost, the one he could never have, “Damn you! Damn the both of you!” he shouted even louder.

    After his fit he regretted throwing all of his furnishings and writings about the area, now the things he’d just finished drying out were completely soaked again by being flung into the lake around his lair. ‘Why must she cause these things’ the Phantom thought of Christine, “she betrayed me” he muttered fishing a lone floating mask from the water, “she caused the fire” he continued to mutter as he placed the mask over his disfigured face. Seeing his own destruction he hated her and himself for not being able to keep her but maybe it was for the best, after all he was fine until she came along to ruin his life. Studying the ruined mannequin that once held Christine’s wedding dress “I’m better off” he said under his breath, not daring to believe himself because he knew it was a blatant lie. Trying to think of something else he concentrated on the fact that opening night would be in two weeks since two days from this point all of the repairs would be done. Casting was the next day for Hannibal, he’d been staying below the opera house and hadn’t seen the managers as of late and didn’t know how they’d planned it out but he soon would after a good night’s sleep.

    That next morning he shrouded himself in darkness and even put on a black mask to contrast his usual white since he had a place to remain incognito during the casting, his normal seat in box five. Sneaking up to the ground level he was greeted by light and the smell of breakfast pastries, he was indeed hungry, starving almost so he couldn’t help himself he had to have some. Standing amongst the shadows in the foyer the Phantom waited for the most opportune moment, when the caterers would vanish from the opera house and the delicious buffet would be unguarded. As soon as the last of them left and the door was shut he ran in silence, picked up a whole platter for himself and sneaked away to his box. Unbeknownst to him he was being watched, the managers used this as a trap and his hunger overpowered his cleverness, Monsieur Firmin was standing watch while Gilles André greeted the returning orchestra and arriving performers waiting to audition. Firmin followed the Phantom from a distance, noticing that he was eating as he walked so he probably didn’t notice the pursuit.

    As the opera ghost settled in behind the curtain of box five, in an all too familiar seat Monsieur Firmin waited for André to meet him as they had planned previously which also gave the Phantom the chance to fill his stomach. When Gilles arrived they nodded in agreement and ripped the curtain open and stepped into the box hoping to take their clever friend by surprise, but it was they who were taken aback, “empty?” Monsieur André said under his breath looking up to Richard Firmin just as he was exclaiming “damn him!” The sound of a man clearing his throat interrupted their guessing, “ahem” said the Phantom, “I believe you were looking for me.” Both of the managers looked at each other puzzled as to how he ended up out in the hall and not in the box, “You have very heavy footsteps Monsieur Firmin” he said answering their questions without even being asked. “Monsieur Phantom, Opera Ghost, what would you like to be called?” Gilles asked very matter-of-factly, “and why on earth did you give us more money that we needed?” The Phantom scoffed in annoyance, “I explained that to you in the note, I am your new patron” he placed his right hand on the hilt of his sword, he didn’t feel threatened but he wanted the two ignorant men in front of him to feel like they could be struck down at any moment. “We are willing to forgive the fire, the ‘unexplained’ deaths, and all the other indiscretions because you have saved the Opera Populaire and the two of us” Firmin said in response, “you can keep your seat, live here, and be our patron if you wi-“ he was cut off there as the Phantom walked past them and took his seat, “don’t you have auditions to prepare for?” he asked them over his shoulder, not caring what their answer was. Gilles André shrugged his shoulders and closed the curtain after saying “good day monsieur” then the two managers walked down the hall discussing the Phantom’s odd behavior on their way to the stage.