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Replaying Past	By : RubyNatulieLee Category: M through R > The Phantom of the Opera > Het Views: 7371 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own The Phantom of the Opera, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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[Disclaimer: I do not own or make any sort of money off of this based story. I only own the charaters of Esme Lonsdale, Eddy and his sister Crystal, The wig maker, Nicolas and the three boys from Sandor's gang. Everything else I do not own nor belong to me. ]

The morning sun, rising slowly over the rooftops of the town. Waking the sleeping gypsy from her dreams.

Esme opened her blurred vision eyes. Glancing for a minute to the ceiling. She woke with the sun, a habit of her own when she was still in the fair. Her mind was foggy from the night before and she thought back to what happen. A little smile crossed her lips. Sleeping upon this bed was far grander then sleeping on the wagon or whatever she rode in.

Pushing the covers to one side, her bare feet touching the wooden floor softly. She wore one of the nightgowns she had found. A light blue one, wool she believed. Used for cold nights. It hung loosely along her body, giving no hint of sight of her slender form under. Her stomach gave a little rumble, telling her it ‘twas time to eat. But first… She needed to dress.

The swirling stair well cracked from her weight as she slowly walked down it. Her fingers touching the stiff railing, holding on, just in case anything would happen. Digging in the chest. She had found an old Ballet dress. One used for practice. One full jumper, hugging her long slender legs, her small hips, flat stomach, and swollen breasts. But it held no sleeves, so her arms went bare. A white corset tied tightly around her stomach, just above what she believed they called a ‘tutu’. She felt so flamboyant. The ballet shoes were worn. But she tied them on none a less. Which was a bad idea, since she could hardly walk in them. She was use to shoes that wasn’t round at the tip. Nor was there anything at the tip in which to help one Balance on the tips of their toes. So as she walked, every now and then. She tripped and almost fell. Reaching the bottom, brushing the red locks of hair from her sight. Her eyes widen along with her mouth. As she stared at the backset of the theater’s stage.

“It is so large.’

You could fit a whole town’s worth of people here. So many levels’ so much space! She followed the main opening, in which she hoped leaded to the tunnels in which her masked host lingered at. No wait. Her Phantom. Rising her hand as she walked, she touched her hurt arm from the night before, twitching from the light pressure. Sure enough it had bruised over night and now she was left with this brownish-purplish mark marrying her skin. But it shall to past in time. All that was left was to find out where she could get something to sink her teeth into. Soon she came across something, that she had never seen before. Such a pain sticking site. And she even bet sadness too. Within the middle of the stage she stood. With only the flickering lights of candles she held in a set. Grasped tightly within her fingers. The staged was covered with dust; black burned cloths’ of what was the curtains lingering at both her sides. The set of the last performance, ‘Don Joi’, lay in broken parts behind her. It was like, a fire was set and it engulfed the whole set and stage, before somehow. It was put out. Slowly her steps dragged her towards the very front center of the stage. Where a broken chandelier laid. Crystal glass glittering within the box below, where the musicians played. But there was also a black scar, burned on the crystal surface. Telling her, where the fire had truly started. The theater almost seemed to weep to her. It was in pain from its brutally attack. The very ceiling, over the thousands of seats, lingered a straight line of a ripped hole. Where the chandelier once hung.

“I bet. Once, long ago. You use to have beautiful performances upon your back, and the grandest of music echoing in your ears.”

She must have looked like she was going mad. For there was no one here in which she could speak to. But she felt like, she spoke right to the theater. Crazy yes, but that’s how she felt. With a thought, she placed the four-candle holder upon the stage floor. Letting it’s yellow light shine, and let the shadows dance. She took a step back and let her mind wonder. She dreamed about dancing on a stage when she was little. The thoughts of having gentlemen and ladies watch her, cheer for her as she swayed with the music’s beat. Not like the beggars and drunken pigs that would try and touch her when she tried to entertain, causing her costume in which she worked hard on to make to rip. But she wanted to dance for the real lords. Who would clap for her and give her a rose for her efforts. Slowly her arms did rise above her head and her body began to slowly turn. Caught in the moment you could say. Placing herself to the tips of her toes, she spin herself slowly, only to yelp out when she bent forward, causing herself to fall, hitting the dust covered ground with a loud ‘thump’. She whimpered out from her sore knees. But she pushed herself back up to her feet once again, only to begin once again. She twirled along the stage, throwing her arms out, her hair waving around her form. She hopped once within the air, kicking her right leg up, only to have her left foot slip out from under her, letting her crash to the floor upon her rump. She wasn’t a ballerina. Only a belly dancer… Only that.

But she did it anyway. Guessing half the moves she did. She didn’t care; no one was watching her, so no one could mock her of her bad skills. But once she began to enjoy herself. A voice boomed within the theater, causing her to cry out from the sudden scare.

“Did I not say, to wait in your room in till I get you?”

Phantom.

Slowly she turned towards the seats of the audience, seeing her masked hosts stand. Right in the middle. He wore a black cloak, which hung over his body, but she could see the black satin vest, that seems to stretch out from his muscular chest. The white collar shirt under that, which was most likely tucked neatly into a pair of black trousers. He stood there within the shadows. His cold blue eyes staring at her. She felt he was looking straight threw her, and right into her very being. He didn’t look upset, but he’s face was covered in the shadows, so she was not sure. But her eyes did catch the mask he wore, making her frown a little. What lingered behind that? But she shock her head, before she spoke out softly towards him. “Aye. You did.” Erik slowly stepped towards the stage. His gloved covered fingers touching the seats beside him softly, letting them guide his body without running into anything. He had gotten up and dressed, to seek he’s new company and rise her from her bed. But when he found the door open and her bed cold. He was suddenly cold and angry. He didn’t understand why. But he was. He ran to find her. Searching the rest of the rooms. He was about to leave for the lower settings, where his room lingered. Thinking she went off to search for him. That was in till he heard a loud ‘thump’ like a body hitting something hard. Following the sounds of shuffling feet, little yelps, and heavy pounds of his new guest falling. He found her. She was dancing… Very… very badly. But she was a free spirit. And for a reason that was unknown. She enchanted him. She watched her make so many mistakes and so many flaws. But she could not stop himself from smiling every time she fell, and seeing her face light up with a smile. She seemed to enjoy herself, even if she was terrible at it.

“Then enlighten me Madame. Why are you here, and not in your room?”

She watched him circle the broken chandelier and climb the steps to the stage. “You forgot to tuck me in.” She saw Phantom’s left corner of his lip twitch. As if fighting off the urge to smile. “Then milady. I shall right that next time.” She let out a laugh that made something in his chest melt. Her laugh was so child like and free. Not like the ones he heard before, forced out to keep one pleased. He would listen to her laugh all day, but he had better things to do. “Are you hungry? I fixed something to snack on in one of the dressing room.” He gave a turn, his cloak floating up within the air as he moved. He was heading towards the dressing rooms, which were used, for every leading singer to get dress. They were the only place he believed Esme would be comfortable to sit and eat. Light flickered behind him, since Esme followed his footsteps, holding the candles up high so Erik could see the path he was taking. They both walked in pure silence, before She muttered out. “...Phantom…” Erik didn’t turned to look at her, but only replied with a little ‘Hmm?’ Picking at her tutu slightly with her free hand, she asked. “How long… Where you standing in the audience?” Erik let himself smile, since he knew, she could not see it. “Long enough to see that you need lessons on your foot work.” Esme let out a gasp before puffing out her cheeks in a stubborn way. “Its rude to mock someone of their faults.”

“Not its not.”
“Well it should be.”
“Madame, you just need lessons.”
“I need no such thing! It’s the shoes, I can hardly walk in them with out tripping!”
“Esme, am I to understand. You’re blaming your shoes for your terrible dancing?”
“I can dance very well thank you. I was just taught to dance a different way then here.”
“But blaming your shoes?”

She let out a little frustrated ‘ooh’ out. Before huffing, looking away. “ I would like to see you get up on the tips of your toes and twirl yourself about.” Erik just gave a little shrug, his fingers grasping a golden handle of one of the many dressing room doors. “I’m sure you would Madame.” Looking back to her, seeing her rose color cheeks of her frustration. He could not help but give her a little smile. “You can dance, just like a ballerina if you have lessons. ‘Twas all I was saying.” Pushing the door open, he placed his large gloved back to the small of her back, pushing her softly inside. Where the candles were already lit, covering every inch of the room in light. Within the middle of the room, two small couches and two chairs sat around a simple table. Food was rested. Wine, eggs, meat from last night and bread. Her mouth watered a little.

“I still wonder where you get these delights.” She muttered before walking towards the table. Like a moth to a flame, to feast and fill her empty belly. Erik leaned his shoulder upon the doorframe, watching her sit upon one of the small couches, reaching out for the wineglass first. He smiled a little to himself. She was a delight to have around… For some reason, he didn’t want her to leave. Not yet at least.

“Esme.” He whispered, pushing himself from the doorframe. The knob clenched softly within his hand. Her bright green eyes glanced towards him, staring into his own cold orbs from over the glass rims. Erik watched her; his mind drawing a small blank before pulling the door closed behind him. Trapping them both within the room.

“Can you sing?”
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Replaying Past