I woke up this morning, and almost like it was Christmas morning, I was informed that my laptop was sitting in a package by the door and I just had to pop the hard drive back in and it was the same as always.
I'm totally excited about this. Whoo!!
Well, anyway, I'm posting these so that I don't have to feel nervous.
HE'S THERE
Chapter 6 ~ Let's Play
The auditorium I entered was nothing like it was the time before. The pitch-black I remembered was lit with a line of bright white Christmas lights, falling down the curtains of the stage, dimly exposing the curves of the balcony and the endless rows of deep-red seats. The radiance finally made the room come alive, but I could feel some familiar presence, like a concentration of energy was staring me point-blank in the eyes. Unlike previously, I was filled with a strange anxiety. Here I was, just standing here after scanning the room for the note-sender, but he was nowhere, yet I felt he was, like the concentration was darting left and right, escaping my eye. My eyes slowly rose to face the balcony, and almost tipping forward was an unmistakable shadow. I paused and considered if I should ask if it was him, but who else could it have been? Something initially covering him slid down past a ghost face; silver, milky in color, glowing by the Christmas lights but completely still and free of emotion. “Hello.” He greeted me flatly. His whisper was that of the creep I sometimes imagined in the note-sender. The short lifeless gesture, offering no explanation. It had to be him.
“Hello…” My voice seemed to be flowing towards him from my mouth, if that makes any sense at all. The white alien face still didn’t blink or change.
“Did our exchange scare you?”
“…The notes? No.” I crossed my arms and stepped down the isle a little further to be closer to him, but he still looked like a floating face. “But they were pretty amusing.”
“Hmph.” His mouth slightly smirked, as far as I could tell. I took a few deep breaths and wet my lips.
“So…-“
“How old are you now?”
“Seventeen, junior.”
“Younssg.”
“Am I? …What year are you?” He paused a long while.
“It’s not really important.” I awkwardly recollected my thoughts.
“…Why’s that?”
“Do you know why I brought you here?”
“No.”
“Do you have any guesses?”
“What is this, The Price is Right? No.” He laughed mildly and leaned forward.
He was perched over the railing, his arms bent in awkward angles to hold his balance, and as his face dipped in my direction, long locks of dark hair fell across the front of the balcony. All of these black streaks and limbs gave him the appearance of a spider. I was afraid maybe he’d fall, but he kept a very sturdy position and grip. I stepped forward just a few more times, and I realized the reason the note-sender’s face didn’t fluctuate was because he was wearing a mask, which covered his eyes and nose and went all the way up his forehead. It really confused me, but I immediately thought of only one thing, which I knew was silly and irrelevant. Before I could suggest it, he spoke again.
“I remember a kid who was in love with this story, and wanted to be a part of it, but failed. She was a freshman. Had so many people laugh at her for her persistence.”
“Huh.”
“She thought she was the only one in the world that cared like that…then she let herself subdue the interest and take it comically.”
“Who and what are you talking about?” The grandeur he first emanated seemed to shrink away. He backed up, a little further into a shadow that left me blind of him.
“You.” The coincidences seemed to be piling up, but I was still completely dumbfounded.
“…So then who are you?”
“I’d like to be someone you’ll never find in anyone else unless you’re extremely lucky.”
“And who would that be?” For the first time in this whole conversation, he looked like he’d completely forgot what he was doing. He just stood there and…thought, or something. It was a horrible time to start acting this way because I really wanted to know what he wanted. “…Second thoughts?” I asked. He didn’t seem phased by it though. “Who do you want to be?”
“Your phantom.” I abruptly straightened my posture to the sudden comment.
“What.” He refused to speak to me after that. I think he probably realized he’d given me a thick pill to swallow. I strolled over to sit in a nearby seat and found a smile growing on my face again when I started thinking about the hands on my arms. For some reason it all seemed so obvious. The notes, the mannerisms, the sign on the theater door, the mask… I guess I just didn’t expect it because it was a pretty damn inexpectable thing. I looked up to him, and found him standing. “So…what…You want me to be Christine? How?”
“We’ll make a story. A play nobody watches.”
“…You want to role-play. In person.” He didn’t say anything to that. I suppose I was being a bit redundant in asking. “…Why with me?”
“I think you have potential for your role. But you hide it.”
“Ok, but how do you know? How do you know that I’ve been obsessed with this?”
“I can’t tell you that.”
“Are you going to tell me anything about yourself or are you just gonna continue being a creep?”
“I can’t.” I crossed my arms at that. “If you want to get a feel of me, then interact with me in the game.”
“But I don’t know you.”
“Do you need to?” The question made me instantly intrigued. I asked it to myself and couldn’t find an answer. Well, ok…I did have answers in mind, but they were all contradictory.
“…I don’t know.” I stupidly replied.
“Then let’s play.” He touched the railing and lent his hand out to me, and the strangest feeling surfaced and destroyed all my skepticism. In the most humble reasoning, I knew I was a smart girl, but at that moment I lost everything.
“Alright.” I stood up again and we just stared at each other. I was trying to understand that I’d just agreed to…in a sense, act out my favorite story in the world with a complete stranger… And the hardest thing to grasp was how this would happen. “What do we do now?” I asked, a little amused again. I felt somewhat bad that I was acting like a smart-ass earlier. He took a step back on the balcony.
“You have to give up asking who I am.”
“Ok.”
“…You have to abandon all your questions; all your preconceptions. You haven’t been living this way, for seventeen years. You’ve lived them as Christine.”
“Easier said than done.” I said to the mask.
“When I see you next, you’ll be Christine.” He insisted. Just when I thought it couldn’t get any more mysterious, he slipped a hand into his coat and pulled out a letter, then let it flutter to the carpet below. Being pretty familiar with typical phantom behavior, I took it as my cue to retrieve it, but when I bent down, collected it in my hands, and looked back up to him, he’d backed even further up the balcony where I could barely even see him.
“…Are these instructions?”
“No.”
“…-“
“It’s just a message.”
“Al…right.”
“Don’t expect conversation like this again.” I nodded and glanced back down to the blank top of the envelope for a moment, but after a short shuffle on the balcony, I realized the faint glow of his mask in the dark was missing. I really had no idea what to think at this point, but he’d pretty much left and our meeting was over, so I very blankly headed back up the isle, glanced once to the place where he had been standing, and then I was out the door, the afternoon sun killing my eyes. The pavement I was walking on to return home seemed far too solid beneath my steps, everything seemed in a haze, like I’d met nobody at all and was returning from school like any other day, but the absence of my backpack’s weight over my shoulder was proof that it wasn’t the case. I don’t even think I could piece it all together, even by the time I was standing in the kitchen, staring ahead and drinking a cup of orange juice. I mean, I was relaying all the information he had given me, all the simple things that had happened in those twenty minutes or so that we were in that room together, but none of it clicked.
So the note-sender…was a guy…that has known me…er…known of me… since I was a freshman. And he knew about my obsession. And he had a mutual obsession. And he felt the need to ask me…to be obsessed with it…with him. Together. As real people… as the Phantom and Christine…two years later. To stop asking questions…to willingly jump into this as strangers with lives outside of it, brought together only by one purpose. Holy fuck. Was I supposed to say this was my dream come true or applaud him for his absolute bluntness on the matter? How could he just say “you don’t know me, but I want to pretend to be your phantom of the opera in some play-house scenario” or whatever it is? And he just came out of NOWHERE and sent notes to me and lured me into a theater a street away from my school, where I never go unless I have to. But he managed to be persistent enough to do that, and I played into it and I said yes…and…it was like Christmas! This couldn’t be real. Was this a joke? God, you are one sick fuck. I’m…I-I-I… you’re gonna have to come back to me later. I need a cold shower. Please, just come back later.
HE'S THERE
Chapter 7 ~ Dolled Up
So it’s been a couple hours since you last heard from me, and I’ve had a chance to calm down. True, I was incredibly giddy and confused. Between you and I, I jumped around in my room and tried to keep my excitement to myself. I wasn’t quite ready yet to tell Mariam, because I was trying to think of some genuinely…concise…logical way to explain what happened.
So I needed a little time to come up with a summary.
So far it was that…I met the note sender, and he wanted to role-play with me. And we would simply see where it went next time, when I came as Christine. Surprisingly enough, I didn’t open the letter yet. I didn’t want to over process myself.
* * *
For some reason I tagged along with my mom to the grocery store. She was actually going to do some cooking that night, and I came with her to simply…escape the house. Escape my thoughts. Try to remember that note-sender or not, life went on.
As soon as we entered the store, we passed a rainbow of Halloween costumes and cackling robotic figures. My eyes halted on a Dracula vest and slacks, hanging on a rail of “6 and under” clothing. It just automatically made me think of the Phantom, and I started to chuckle at the idea of him coming here for a costume for this role-play! Yeah-right. And I certainly wasn’t finding any long, white, dresses, here! Like they could fit a 17-year-old girl. Not that I wanted to find a Christine costume at Fred Meyer.
Then it dawned on me that Halloween was just in two weeks. I could construct a Christine costume for the yearly party and never have to reveal what I was using it for besides the event. Sweet. No explaining to do with Mariam. She was a very engaged actress just as myself, but she’d think I’d went completely bananas if she knew what lengths I was going to satisfy this “game” with a guy who wouldn’t even tell us who he was.
Hehe…it was kind of cute…
He was this…dark…mysterious guy… Honestly, there was a pinch of fear in me that I wouldn’t have admitted when I met him. But anyway, he was this dark mysterious guy…and he seemed…intelligent, creative, entertaining…
But he was shy as hell. It was just…adorable!
And to think he was shy around me… I guess Mariam’s idea that he liked me wasn’t so absurd. Maybe he did. Why else would he remember anything about me for two years, after spotting me as some loser freshman? Eeee…
I lingered down some aisle with school supplies and smiled to myself, deciding to stop by some neato eraser thingies and fumble with the package a bit. I had a guy who picked me, and me in particular, to act out the Phantom of the Opera with him because he…might have liked me. God, it just felt weird to say it aloud. It sounded crazy, and dorky, and…
“Lily, come on,” Mom shouted. I put the erasers back and followed her.
All I could really do was tag behind her as she passed the vegetables, bagged a few things here and there, and headed to the check out. I wondered if “the phantom”, as I could call him now, was gonna eat dinner soon. Hahah, I know it’s a funny thought, but he was a human being after all. I wondered if he had been thinking of me just as obsessively. Then I convinced myself I’d had enough time to register what we were doing, and I was reading that letter as soon as we got home, and let me tell you, that wait was endless.
Mom brushed a wave of her hair behind her ear and adjusted her scarf, then eyed the candy shelf as we inched towards the cashier. It was extremely tempting, but we made it through in one piece, without having bought anything unnecessary, even if it kept staring us in the face, it was pouring rain. We ran recklessly to the car and threw everything in the backseat, then turned the heat up and hurried out of there.
We passed the school on the way back. I instinctively looked out the window down the road, but it was gone quicker than it came to my attention, and a second later, we were pulling into the garage. I opened the door and heard the hard patter of rain as I walked mindlessly to the door. That note was just waiting for me to- “Lily…the bag?” I swerved in her direction, stared a moment, and went back to snatch it from my side of the car.
When we were inside, I set it on the counter and walked off, not much thinking of anything else, and ran upstairs.
The note was sitting innocently on my dresser. I imagined it fluttering to the ground from his shadow, again. The weird side of me decided I should set the mood, so I took it into the closet, closed the door tight, turned on the lamp, and leaned into the corner. My unfolding was slow, just to make myself suffer, then the full letter was just sitting there. I had nothing left to do but read from the top.
Christine,
You and I are similar in that we both suppress what we really want, because nobody will give it to us. I don’t know you well. And you don’t know me at all. But I think we’re connected in a very strong way for what we suppress.
I stopped and smiled. “Go on.”
I can only be who you want me to be if you open up to me. If you trust me, even without knowing me. If you reserve all questions you have about my life away from this game. I’ll do the same myself. I’ll trust you, without knowing you. I won’t pry into your other world. We’ll learn about each other all in good time.
Lastly, I have no intention of making this public domain. I want you and I to be alone...
O_O
If it’s out of your comfort zone, then this might not be for you, but I’ve spent so much time…thinking about you…I feel positive that it is. Until then… do what you feel is right. You have the instinctive ability to be this role and I have the instinctive ability to be mine. Because deep down, we are them.
I’d like you to meet me on Friday, October 20th, at 6’o’clock PM.
You never thought you could live this way, but you can. I’ll make it happen.
-O.G.
I reread the letter five or so times until I’d soaked in his message well enough. I had four days to find a dress. That was all I really needed to focus on.
I was Christine now.
I was Christine.
I was Christine. Christine Daae.
* * *
“What’re you doing, Lily?”
“Huhhh?! Agh. Will you stop leaning over me?!” Defensively, I curled up in a ball in my desk, holding closely, like it were my own vulnerable child, to a yellow-papered notebook with writing and scribbles, and scribbled-through writing.
“What is it?”
“It’s nothing that you would be interested in.”
“Oh, is that so? I wouldn’t be interested? Interested in what?” Mariam swung around and slid into the desk in front of me. I sent her an offensive glance, and then concentrated on the curves of my letters from within the paper she couldn’t read.
“I’m just writing about the ph- …note-sender.” I told her informatively. She chuckled half-heartedly, then completely froze and glared at me.
“You never called me about that.”
“Guess not…sorry.” I could tell she was staring at me as I focused on my notebook. I glanced at her once, then took out a red pen and started outlining things.
“….Well?”
“He was a very nice guy.”
“Well what did he want from you?!”
“He wanted…to meet me on Friday, to hang out. That’s all.”
“Ok…” I took out the long letter from that night, glancing over it admirably, when she snatched it from my hands, and I couldn’t very well hold on to save it from her eyes or it would have been torn in two. I rose from the chair and stared at her wide-eyed. “Mariam.” I spoke wryly. Her eyes continued to scroll across the first paragraph. “Mariam!” This caused me to lean forward.
“Did he give this to you? Holy wow.”
“GIVE IT BACK!” I swung my arm out, but she retracted hers.
“-But I think we’re connected in a very strong way for what we suppress. I can only be who you want me to be if you open up to me.” She read aloud quickly. “If you trust me, even without knowing me. If you reserve all questions you- ”
“Mariam, STOP IT!” I couldn’t believe she was reading my own personal message. She turned up to my face turning pink with discontent. “Do you know how completely creepy this sounds? He wants to be aloooone with you!” At that, I caught her off guard and saved the letter from her prying little fingers.
“It is not creepy. You don’t even know what it’s about.”
“Ok. Fine. If you don’t mind it… But really… what was he like.” I sat back down, returning the sacred letter into the notebook, then I took a few deep breaths.
“Interesting.” I realized this didn’t really answer the question. “He was tall and kind of lanky, and he was wearing a suit. He kinda reminded me of … of a vampire, er I mean…well his hair was this long.” I shot my hand up to my mid-chest. Mariam started to look more and more disgusted, but she let me continue. “He didn’t even really seem like somebody that could exist, like the way he looked, and the way he talked, almost like everything he said was scripted. It was…weird. But I didn’t ever feel like I was in danger. Oh, and just to get this out of the way, he looks nothing like anybody we know of.”
“That’s…I don’t even know any word that would explain it.” A laugh escaped under my breath.
“If you think that’s weird…” A smile sifted through my lips.
“What?”
“Well.” My lips continued to curl as I averted to the window. “He had a mask.”
“Hahah, yeah, cuz he doesn’t want you to know who he is since he liiiikes you.”
“Maybe.” He bit my lip and stacked the notes into an orderly little pile.
“Oh God.”
“What.”
“First he’s note-boy and now you have a crush on him? Already?!” The words jumped from left to right in my head.
“What the fuck! When did I say that?!”
“You don’t need to.”
“Oh come on- don’t give me that crap, Mariam. I have crushes on people I know.”
“Who’re you trying to fool, me or you?” I paused and stared at her with fake anger.
“YOU! You are way out of line!”
“Hey, I’m not the one with the “note-sender’s” letters all over my desk.” I shot down to my tabletop. “What? Doing a little reminiscing?” I gathered them all up in my arms and fell forward in an attempt to hide them. “Infatuation: stage one.”
“Noooo! All this means is that…I-iii-it doesn’t ALL have to do with that, okay? It’s a much broader subject-” Just then Mariam started bellowing hysterically, throwing her head back and covering her face with her hand. “You are a jerk! And I’ll tell you something else-“ She came back forward. “If you’re gonna accuse me of having crushes on stupid note-sender guys that I just met, then I’m just going to stop telling you about all of this. Okay?! I’m not that desperate! If I really thought I liked him, I would have no problem admitting it to you! Obviously, I don’t, I’m just seeing where this is going- maybe we’ll become friends. I don’t know! But I’m handling it like any amused person would if it happened to them. If it was a girl, I’d be acting the same about this.”
“Alright, alright. Geez. Calm down. I won’t laugh at you anymore.” We spent a few moments in silence after the agreement. “I still think he’s extremely weird. The least you could do is admit it instead of be ambiguous and defensive.” I would’ve argued against that but then it’d just look like I cared what she thought. After no response, she stood up and walked towards the door. Just when I thought she was gone, she very conspicuously crept up to my side.
“I want to be alone with you, Lily…” Mariam whispered with a nasal voice. She struck her fingers up in ominous crippled poses, and flashed the whites of her eyes, then sprinted out into the hall.
This was not a creepy letter. He was merely embracing his role. And I loved his language. It was like mine, but better.
….I guess after a little thinking, I realized I had to eventually just tell her what was up. The suit, the mask, the notes, the language…It was all a pretty creepy thing out of context. Ughh…I guess I just…kind of wished that all her knowledge of the Phantom and how he started off with me would be erased, so I wouldn’t have to explain what happened with him from then on.
I wanted it to be my secret.
Besides, she kept bringing all the “normal” in and trampling over my enthusiasm.
* * *
The dress was still nonexistent by Wednesday. I was starting to worry if I wouldn’t be able to make it by the due date. Mom agreed to take me over to Good Will for “Halloween”, but it was hit or miss at a store like that. Mariam suggested I go to the Mrs. Vardega’s storage and ask if I could borrow one of the dresses, so we headed over there during lunch and tried to find something good.
And with a poorly written children’s book’s convenience, there was actually a dress there that I particularly liked and ended up fitting me well, besides the length, which went out another three inches past my feet and seemed like it’d trip me if I walked too fast. It was rose-tinted, with a tight strapless body and two strips of fabric that draped around my shoulders from the center. One jewel in the middle, no sparkles, but I kind of liked the simplicity.
After I completed my goal of finding the dress, I had to wait until the end of Acting when Mrs. Vardega was free and ask about it. She sort of just nodded. (We have like…ancient costumes. They’re not that special.)
Actually, my dress didn’t smell so great either. I had mom put it in the wash, and then came up with the clever idea of sewing the ends inside of themselves so it wasn’t so long. I wasn’t a very patient sewer, might I add. I had like inch-length gaps between stitches. But when all was said and done, it didn’t look so bad…
When nobody was upstairs, I ran into the bathroom with it and posed in the mirror, then looked through my jewelry stash for something suiting, like a jeweled necklace or a gold chain.
Nothing even remotely good.
I had a fascination for brightly colored hair accessories and plastic pendants. All of which were neon orange, lime green, or blueberry colored. (It was the least I could do since I had such a dull wardrobe.)
So there I was, bothering Mom again. She let me take a glance at her own jewelry and I found a very Christine-ly necklace with bronze-ish chains and a few “diamond” appendages.
The only thing I really needed now was a pair of SHOES. And I had NONE! Purple tennis shoes, black flats (which would never match), dark blue converse… So despite my sudden relief for not having to go anywhere to get my costume done, we headed over to Good Will anyway, and there was absolutely nothing there. I looked left and right, even went down the aisle a few times. There were a few light colored dress shoes that caught my attention, but most were many sizes too big or small. It did give me a few ideas though- I decided I’d be looking for white dress shoes, with or without heels, hopefully slip-ons, and no pointy toes. I don’t care what anybody says- they’re ugly.
So with that idea in mind, I had to beg Mom and get down on my knees for her to take me elsewhere. We had several other thrift stores around and had only killed twenty minutes or so, so she agreed, but she seems to always have a problem with the dust in the stores. “This stuff has been sitting in people’s garages,” she said. True. Maybe I was just immune to it, but damn, she was swiping her nose left and right. I felt a little bad, but this had to be done.
Value Village was also completely devoid of nice shoes. All we saw were giant-sized Keds, and worn 80’s high heels.
I was becoming extremely discouraged at this point. I didn’t want to have to wear the black flats. She took me to one last place and I somehow managed to find a pair of white dress shoes that were my size (7) and not too ugly. They were mary-janes with square heels and fabric bows, and when I tried them on, I felt like I was wearing something that just wasn’t me. Then I remembered this wasn’t even about me… so I forked out $5.95 and then I had shoes. The costume was then complete, and tomorrow I’d be wearing it for the Phantom.
I spent the whole night wearing the outfit, finding positions that flattered me best, and trying to get into character. I lit my whole room with candles, and sat on the floor, trying to think of things that Christine might say. The only problem was that I didn’t even know what the situation would be. What was his plan? Was he going to act out the already established story, or was this some alternate dimension? Was it the beginning stages as the Angel of Music, the seduction, or would we already be in the “lair”, if there was a lair. And what then? To me, I found so many dead ends. How could we have a satisfying fake-reality with only that small little theater with dusty chairs and no life what so ever? The Opera House was a vast work of art, flooding with guests, ballerinas, stage directors, dancers, the opera singers themselves, M. Firmin, M. Andre… Elaborate live performances, secret corridors, and the room of Christine Daae with her entrance through the walls to Erik’s domain. So many aspects of this world that affect our roles were absent.
Then I had this strange idea that I really should just trust “Erik”.
He must’ve known what he was doing, right?
I'm totally excited about this. Whoo!!
Well, anyway, I'm posting these so that I don't have to feel nervous.
HE'S THERE
Chapter 6 ~ Let's Play
The auditorium I entered was nothing like it was the time before. The pitch-black I remembered was lit with a line of bright white Christmas lights, falling down the curtains of the stage, dimly exposing the curves of the balcony and the endless rows of deep-red seats. The radiance finally made the room come alive, but I could feel some familiar presence, like a concentration of energy was staring me point-blank in the eyes. Unlike previously, I was filled with a strange anxiety. Here I was, just standing here after scanning the room for the note-sender, but he was nowhere, yet I felt he was, like the concentration was darting left and right, escaping my eye. My eyes slowly rose to face the balcony, and almost tipping forward was an unmistakable shadow. I paused and considered if I should ask if it was him, but who else could it have been? Something initially covering him slid down past a ghost face; silver, milky in color, glowing by the Christmas lights but completely still and free of emotion. “Hello.” He greeted me flatly. His whisper was that of the creep I sometimes imagined in the note-sender. The short lifeless gesture, offering no explanation. It had to be him.
“Hello…” My voice seemed to be flowing towards him from my mouth, if that makes any sense at all. The white alien face still didn’t blink or change.
“Did our exchange scare you?”
“…The notes? No.” I crossed my arms and stepped down the isle a little further to be closer to him, but he still looked like a floating face. “But they were pretty amusing.”
“Hmph.” His mouth slightly smirked, as far as I could tell. I took a few deep breaths and wet my lips.
“So…-“
“How old are you now?”
“Seventeen, junior.”
“Younssg.”
“Am I? …What year are you?” He paused a long while.
“It’s not really important.” I awkwardly recollected my thoughts.
“…Why’s that?”
“Do you know why I brought you here?”
“No.”
“Do you have any guesses?”
“What is this, The Price is Right? No.” He laughed mildly and leaned forward.
He was perched over the railing, his arms bent in awkward angles to hold his balance, and as his face dipped in my direction, long locks of dark hair fell across the front of the balcony. All of these black streaks and limbs gave him the appearance of a spider. I was afraid maybe he’d fall, but he kept a very sturdy position and grip. I stepped forward just a few more times, and I realized the reason the note-sender’s face didn’t fluctuate was because he was wearing a mask, which covered his eyes and nose and went all the way up his forehead. It really confused me, but I immediately thought of only one thing, which I knew was silly and irrelevant. Before I could suggest it, he spoke again.
“I remember a kid who was in love with this story, and wanted to be a part of it, but failed. She was a freshman. Had so many people laugh at her for her persistence.”
“Huh.”
“She thought she was the only one in the world that cared like that…then she let herself subdue the interest and take it comically.”
“Who and what are you talking about?” The grandeur he first emanated seemed to shrink away. He backed up, a little further into a shadow that left me blind of him.
“You.” The coincidences seemed to be piling up, but I was still completely dumbfounded.
“…So then who are you?”
“I’d like to be someone you’ll never find in anyone else unless you’re extremely lucky.”
“And who would that be?” For the first time in this whole conversation, he looked like he’d completely forgot what he was doing. He just stood there and…thought, or something. It was a horrible time to start acting this way because I really wanted to know what he wanted. “…Second thoughts?” I asked. He didn’t seem phased by it though. “Who do you want to be?”
“Your phantom.” I abruptly straightened my posture to the sudden comment.
“What.” He refused to speak to me after that. I think he probably realized he’d given me a thick pill to swallow. I strolled over to sit in a nearby seat and found a smile growing on my face again when I started thinking about the hands on my arms. For some reason it all seemed so obvious. The notes, the mannerisms, the sign on the theater door, the mask… I guess I just didn’t expect it because it was a pretty damn inexpectable thing. I looked up to him, and found him standing. “So…what…You want me to be Christine? How?”
“We’ll make a story. A play nobody watches.”
“…You want to role-play. In person.” He didn’t say anything to that. I suppose I was being a bit redundant in asking. “…Why with me?”
“I think you have potential for your role. But you hide it.”
“Ok, but how do you know? How do you know that I’ve been obsessed with this?”
“I can’t tell you that.”
“Are you going to tell me anything about yourself or are you just gonna continue being a creep?”
“I can’t.” I crossed my arms at that. “If you want to get a feel of me, then interact with me in the game.”
“But I don’t know you.”
“Do you need to?” The question made me instantly intrigued. I asked it to myself and couldn’t find an answer. Well, ok…I did have answers in mind, but they were all contradictory.
“…I don’t know.” I stupidly replied.
“Then let’s play.” He touched the railing and lent his hand out to me, and the strangest feeling surfaced and destroyed all my skepticism. In the most humble reasoning, I knew I was a smart girl, but at that moment I lost everything.
“Alright.” I stood up again and we just stared at each other. I was trying to understand that I’d just agreed to…in a sense, act out my favorite story in the world with a complete stranger… And the hardest thing to grasp was how this would happen. “What do we do now?” I asked, a little amused again. I felt somewhat bad that I was acting like a smart-ass earlier. He took a step back on the balcony.
“You have to give up asking who I am.”
“Ok.”
“…You have to abandon all your questions; all your preconceptions. You haven’t been living this way, for seventeen years. You’ve lived them as Christine.”
“Easier said than done.” I said to the mask.
“When I see you next, you’ll be Christine.” He insisted. Just when I thought it couldn’t get any more mysterious, he slipped a hand into his coat and pulled out a letter, then let it flutter to the carpet below. Being pretty familiar with typical phantom behavior, I took it as my cue to retrieve it, but when I bent down, collected it in my hands, and looked back up to him, he’d backed even further up the balcony where I could barely even see him.
“…Are these instructions?”
“No.”
“…-“
“It’s just a message.”
“Al…right.”
“Don’t expect conversation like this again.” I nodded and glanced back down to the blank top of the envelope for a moment, but after a short shuffle on the balcony, I realized the faint glow of his mask in the dark was missing. I really had no idea what to think at this point, but he’d pretty much left and our meeting was over, so I very blankly headed back up the isle, glanced once to the place where he had been standing, and then I was out the door, the afternoon sun killing my eyes. The pavement I was walking on to return home seemed far too solid beneath my steps, everything seemed in a haze, like I’d met nobody at all and was returning from school like any other day, but the absence of my backpack’s weight over my shoulder was proof that it wasn’t the case. I don’t even think I could piece it all together, even by the time I was standing in the kitchen, staring ahead and drinking a cup of orange juice. I mean, I was relaying all the information he had given me, all the simple things that had happened in those twenty minutes or so that we were in that room together, but none of it clicked.
So the note-sender…was a guy…that has known me…er…known of me… since I was a freshman. And he knew about my obsession. And he had a mutual obsession. And he felt the need to ask me…to be obsessed with it…with him. Together. As real people… as the Phantom and Christine…two years later. To stop asking questions…to willingly jump into this as strangers with lives outside of it, brought together only by one purpose. Holy fuck. Was I supposed to say this was my dream come true or applaud him for his absolute bluntness on the matter? How could he just say “you don’t know me, but I want to pretend to be your phantom of the opera in some play-house scenario” or whatever it is? And he just came out of NOWHERE and sent notes to me and lured me into a theater a street away from my school, where I never go unless I have to. But he managed to be persistent enough to do that, and I played into it and I said yes…and…it was like Christmas! This couldn’t be real. Was this a joke? God, you are one sick fuck. I’m…I-I-I… you’re gonna have to come back to me later. I need a cold shower. Please, just come back later.
HE'S THERE
Chapter 7 ~ Dolled Up
So it’s been a couple hours since you last heard from me, and I’ve had a chance to calm down. True, I was incredibly giddy and confused. Between you and I, I jumped around in my room and tried to keep my excitement to myself. I wasn’t quite ready yet to tell Mariam, because I was trying to think of some genuinely…concise…logical way to explain what happened.
So I needed a little time to come up with a summary.
So far it was that…I met the note sender, and he wanted to role-play with me. And we would simply see where it went next time, when I came as Christine. Surprisingly enough, I didn’t open the letter yet. I didn’t want to over process myself.
* * *
For some reason I tagged along with my mom to the grocery store. She was actually going to do some cooking that night, and I came with her to simply…escape the house. Escape my thoughts. Try to remember that note-sender or not, life went on.
As soon as we entered the store, we passed a rainbow of Halloween costumes and cackling robotic figures. My eyes halted on a Dracula vest and slacks, hanging on a rail of “6 and under” clothing. It just automatically made me think of the Phantom, and I started to chuckle at the idea of him coming here for a costume for this role-play! Yeah-right. And I certainly wasn’t finding any long, white, dresses, here! Like they could fit a 17-year-old girl. Not that I wanted to find a Christine costume at Fred Meyer.
Then it dawned on me that Halloween was just in two weeks. I could construct a Christine costume for the yearly party and never have to reveal what I was using it for besides the event. Sweet. No explaining to do with Mariam. She was a very engaged actress just as myself, but she’d think I’d went completely bananas if she knew what lengths I was going to satisfy this “game” with a guy who wouldn’t even tell us who he was.
Hehe…it was kind of cute…
He was this…dark…mysterious guy… Honestly, there was a pinch of fear in me that I wouldn’t have admitted when I met him. But anyway, he was this dark mysterious guy…and he seemed…intelligent, creative, entertaining…
But he was shy as hell. It was just…adorable!
And to think he was shy around me… I guess Mariam’s idea that he liked me wasn’t so absurd. Maybe he did. Why else would he remember anything about me for two years, after spotting me as some loser freshman? Eeee…
I lingered down some aisle with school supplies and smiled to myself, deciding to stop by some neato eraser thingies and fumble with the package a bit. I had a guy who picked me, and me in particular, to act out the Phantom of the Opera with him because he…might have liked me. God, it just felt weird to say it aloud. It sounded crazy, and dorky, and…
“Lily, come on,” Mom shouted. I put the erasers back and followed her.
All I could really do was tag behind her as she passed the vegetables, bagged a few things here and there, and headed to the check out. I wondered if “the phantom”, as I could call him now, was gonna eat dinner soon. Hahah, I know it’s a funny thought, but he was a human being after all. I wondered if he had been thinking of me just as obsessively. Then I convinced myself I’d had enough time to register what we were doing, and I was reading that letter as soon as we got home, and let me tell you, that wait was endless.
Mom brushed a wave of her hair behind her ear and adjusted her scarf, then eyed the candy shelf as we inched towards the cashier. It was extremely tempting, but we made it through in one piece, without having bought anything unnecessary, even if it kept staring us in the face, it was pouring rain. We ran recklessly to the car and threw everything in the backseat, then turned the heat up and hurried out of there.
We passed the school on the way back. I instinctively looked out the window down the road, but it was gone quicker than it came to my attention, and a second later, we were pulling into the garage. I opened the door and heard the hard patter of rain as I walked mindlessly to the door. That note was just waiting for me to- “Lily…the bag?” I swerved in her direction, stared a moment, and went back to snatch it from my side of the car.
When we were inside, I set it on the counter and walked off, not much thinking of anything else, and ran upstairs.
The note was sitting innocently on my dresser. I imagined it fluttering to the ground from his shadow, again. The weird side of me decided I should set the mood, so I took it into the closet, closed the door tight, turned on the lamp, and leaned into the corner. My unfolding was slow, just to make myself suffer, then the full letter was just sitting there. I had nothing left to do but read from the top.
Christine,
You and I are similar in that we both suppress what we really want, because nobody will give it to us. I don’t know you well. And you don’t know me at all. But I think we’re connected in a very strong way for what we suppress.
I stopped and smiled. “Go on.”
I can only be who you want me to be if you open up to me. If you trust me, even without knowing me. If you reserve all questions you have about my life away from this game. I’ll do the same myself. I’ll trust you, without knowing you. I won’t pry into your other world. We’ll learn about each other all in good time.
Lastly, I have no intention of making this public domain. I want you and I to be alone...
O_O
If it’s out of your comfort zone, then this might not be for you, but I’ve spent so much time…thinking about you…I feel positive that it is. Until then… do what you feel is right. You have the instinctive ability to be this role and I have the instinctive ability to be mine. Because deep down, we are them.
I’d like you to meet me on Friday, October 20th, at 6’o’clock PM.
You never thought you could live this way, but you can. I’ll make it happen.
-O.G.
I reread the letter five or so times until I’d soaked in his message well enough. I had four days to find a dress. That was all I really needed to focus on.
I was Christine now.
I was Christine.
I was Christine. Christine Daae.
* * *
“What’re you doing, Lily?”
“Huhhh?! Agh. Will you stop leaning over me?!” Defensively, I curled up in a ball in my desk, holding closely, like it were my own vulnerable child, to a yellow-papered notebook with writing and scribbles, and scribbled-through writing.
“What is it?”
“It’s nothing that you would be interested in.”
“Oh, is that so? I wouldn’t be interested? Interested in what?” Mariam swung around and slid into the desk in front of me. I sent her an offensive glance, and then concentrated on the curves of my letters from within the paper she couldn’t read.
“I’m just writing about the ph- …note-sender.” I told her informatively. She chuckled half-heartedly, then completely froze and glared at me.
“You never called me about that.”
“Guess not…sorry.” I could tell she was staring at me as I focused on my notebook. I glanced at her once, then took out a red pen and started outlining things.
“….Well?”
“He was a very nice guy.”
“Well what did he want from you?!”
“He wanted…to meet me on Friday, to hang out. That’s all.”
“Ok…” I took out the long letter from that night, glancing over it admirably, when she snatched it from my hands, and I couldn’t very well hold on to save it from her eyes or it would have been torn in two. I rose from the chair and stared at her wide-eyed. “Mariam.” I spoke wryly. Her eyes continued to scroll across the first paragraph. “Mariam!” This caused me to lean forward.
“Did he give this to you? Holy wow.”
“GIVE IT BACK!” I swung my arm out, but she retracted hers.
“-But I think we’re connected in a very strong way for what we suppress. I can only be who you want me to be if you open up to me.” She read aloud quickly. “If you trust me, even without knowing me. If you reserve all questions you- ”
“Mariam, STOP IT!” I couldn’t believe she was reading my own personal message. She turned up to my face turning pink with discontent. “Do you know how completely creepy this sounds? He wants to be aloooone with you!” At that, I caught her off guard and saved the letter from her prying little fingers.
“It is not creepy. You don’t even know what it’s about.”
“Ok. Fine. If you don’t mind it… But really… what was he like.” I sat back down, returning the sacred letter into the notebook, then I took a few deep breaths.
“Interesting.” I realized this didn’t really answer the question. “He was tall and kind of lanky, and he was wearing a suit. He kinda reminded me of … of a vampire, er I mean…well his hair was this long.” I shot my hand up to my mid-chest. Mariam started to look more and more disgusted, but she let me continue. “He didn’t even really seem like somebody that could exist, like the way he looked, and the way he talked, almost like everything he said was scripted. It was…weird. But I didn’t ever feel like I was in danger. Oh, and just to get this out of the way, he looks nothing like anybody we know of.”
“That’s…I don’t even know any word that would explain it.” A laugh escaped under my breath.
“If you think that’s weird…” A smile sifted through my lips.
“What?”
“Well.” My lips continued to curl as I averted to the window. “He had a mask.”
“Hahah, yeah, cuz he doesn’t want you to know who he is since he liiiikes you.”
“Maybe.” He bit my lip and stacked the notes into an orderly little pile.
“Oh God.”
“What.”
“First he’s note-boy and now you have a crush on him? Already?!” The words jumped from left to right in my head.
“What the fuck! When did I say that?!”
“You don’t need to.”
“Oh come on- don’t give me that crap, Mariam. I have crushes on people I know.”
“Who’re you trying to fool, me or you?” I paused and stared at her with fake anger.
“YOU! You are way out of line!”
“Hey, I’m not the one with the “note-sender’s” letters all over my desk.” I shot down to my tabletop. “What? Doing a little reminiscing?” I gathered them all up in my arms and fell forward in an attempt to hide them. “Infatuation: stage one.”
“Noooo! All this means is that…I-iii-it doesn’t ALL have to do with that, okay? It’s a much broader subject-” Just then Mariam started bellowing hysterically, throwing her head back and covering her face with her hand. “You are a jerk! And I’ll tell you something else-“ She came back forward. “If you’re gonna accuse me of having crushes on stupid note-sender guys that I just met, then I’m just going to stop telling you about all of this. Okay?! I’m not that desperate! If I really thought I liked him, I would have no problem admitting it to you! Obviously, I don’t, I’m just seeing where this is going- maybe we’ll become friends. I don’t know! But I’m handling it like any amused person would if it happened to them. If it was a girl, I’d be acting the same about this.”
“Alright, alright. Geez. Calm down. I won’t laugh at you anymore.” We spent a few moments in silence after the agreement. “I still think he’s extremely weird. The least you could do is admit it instead of be ambiguous and defensive.” I would’ve argued against that but then it’d just look like I cared what she thought. After no response, she stood up and walked towards the door. Just when I thought she was gone, she very conspicuously crept up to my side.
“I want to be alone with you, Lily…” Mariam whispered with a nasal voice. She struck her fingers up in ominous crippled poses, and flashed the whites of her eyes, then sprinted out into the hall.
This was not a creepy letter. He was merely embracing his role. And I loved his language. It was like mine, but better.
….I guess after a little thinking, I realized I had to eventually just tell her what was up. The suit, the mask, the notes, the language…It was all a pretty creepy thing out of context. Ughh…I guess I just…kind of wished that all her knowledge of the Phantom and how he started off with me would be erased, so I wouldn’t have to explain what happened with him from then on.
I wanted it to be my secret.
Besides, she kept bringing all the “normal” in and trampling over my enthusiasm.
* * *
The dress was still nonexistent by Wednesday. I was starting to worry if I wouldn’t be able to make it by the due date. Mom agreed to take me over to Good Will for “Halloween”, but it was hit or miss at a store like that. Mariam suggested I go to the Mrs. Vardega’s storage and ask if I could borrow one of the dresses, so we headed over there during lunch and tried to find something good.
And with a poorly written children’s book’s convenience, there was actually a dress there that I particularly liked and ended up fitting me well, besides the length, which went out another three inches past my feet and seemed like it’d trip me if I walked too fast. It was rose-tinted, with a tight strapless body and two strips of fabric that draped around my shoulders from the center. One jewel in the middle, no sparkles, but I kind of liked the simplicity.
After I completed my goal of finding the dress, I had to wait until the end of Acting when Mrs. Vardega was free and ask about it. She sort of just nodded. (We have like…ancient costumes. They’re not that special.)
Actually, my dress didn’t smell so great either. I had mom put it in the wash, and then came up with the clever idea of sewing the ends inside of themselves so it wasn’t so long. I wasn’t a very patient sewer, might I add. I had like inch-length gaps between stitches. But when all was said and done, it didn’t look so bad…
When nobody was upstairs, I ran into the bathroom with it and posed in the mirror, then looked through my jewelry stash for something suiting, like a jeweled necklace or a gold chain.
Nothing even remotely good.
I had a fascination for brightly colored hair accessories and plastic pendants. All of which were neon orange, lime green, or blueberry colored. (It was the least I could do since I had such a dull wardrobe.)
So there I was, bothering Mom again. She let me take a glance at her own jewelry and I found a very Christine-ly necklace with bronze-ish chains and a few “diamond” appendages.
The only thing I really needed now was a pair of SHOES. And I had NONE! Purple tennis shoes, black flats (which would never match), dark blue converse… So despite my sudden relief for not having to go anywhere to get my costume done, we headed over to Good Will anyway, and there was absolutely nothing there. I looked left and right, even went down the aisle a few times. There were a few light colored dress shoes that caught my attention, but most were many sizes too big or small. It did give me a few ideas though- I decided I’d be looking for white dress shoes, with or without heels, hopefully slip-ons, and no pointy toes. I don’t care what anybody says- they’re ugly.
So with that idea in mind, I had to beg Mom and get down on my knees for her to take me elsewhere. We had several other thrift stores around and had only killed twenty minutes or so, so she agreed, but she seems to always have a problem with the dust in the stores. “This stuff has been sitting in people’s garages,” she said. True. Maybe I was just immune to it, but damn, she was swiping her nose left and right. I felt a little bad, but this had to be done.
Value Village was also completely devoid of nice shoes. All we saw were giant-sized Keds, and worn 80’s high heels.
I was becoming extremely discouraged at this point. I didn’t want to have to wear the black flats. She took me to one last place and I somehow managed to find a pair of white dress shoes that were my size (7) and not too ugly. They were mary-janes with square heels and fabric bows, and when I tried them on, I felt like I was wearing something that just wasn’t me. Then I remembered this wasn’t even about me… so I forked out $5.95 and then I had shoes. The costume was then complete, and tomorrow I’d be wearing it for the Phantom.
I spent the whole night wearing the outfit, finding positions that flattered me best, and trying to get into character. I lit my whole room with candles, and sat on the floor, trying to think of things that Christine might say. The only problem was that I didn’t even know what the situation would be. What was his plan? Was he going to act out the already established story, or was this some alternate dimension? Was it the beginning stages as the Angel of Music, the seduction, or would we already be in the “lair”, if there was a lair. And what then? To me, I found so many dead ends. How could we have a satisfying fake-reality with only that small little theater with dusty chairs and no life what so ever? The Opera House was a vast work of art, flooding with guests, ballerinas, stage directors, dancers, the opera singers themselves, M. Firmin, M. Andre… Elaborate live performances, secret corridors, and the room of Christine Daae with her entrance through the walls to Erik’s domain. So many aspects of this world that affect our roles were absent.
Then I had this strange idea that I really should just trust “Erik”.
He must’ve known what he was doing, right?
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