Chapter 4
As the door shut, Euphemia watched the viscount exit in a hurry from around the corner. Most of the opera house attendees had left already, the lights beginning to dim. She watched as a dark cloaked figure removed a key from the lock of the door and slipped away unnoticed. The lights all went out as the last few people left the building. The ballet instructor turned on her heel and swiftly left.
In his dressing room, Remus thought about Grant Chapman and his words while dressing himself in his night robes. Yes, he was happy to see his old friend again, but Grant just didn’t understand and neither did James. He wondered why no one believed his tales of the Angel of Music and then supposed that to anyone else who hadn’t experienced his wonderful company, it would indeed sound like a child’s fairytale. Still, that did not stop irritation from bubbling under his skin at being dismissed like a child. Suddenly, the candles in his dressing room all went out at once, all trace of prior annoyance leaving Remus with a cold feeling gripping his chest. His heart pounded and he knew this must be the Angel. The Angel of Music had come to visit him again and suddenly his fear melted into excitement.
“That insolent boy,” the Angel’s voice boomed harshly throughout the room. “Basking in your glory. Who does he think he is to come here with such frivolity and share in my triumph?”
Remus’s excitement gave way to fear again. The Angel was angry. Remus began to sing in a clear high note, hoping to calm the Angel’s nerves. “Angel of Music, speak, I hear you. Stay by my side, guide me. Angel, I’m here, I listen to you. Enter at last, Angel.”
The Angel paused, then spoke again, his voice softer, his tone more gentle. “You flatter me, Remus. Someday, you’ll know me. Someday I’ll tell you why I hide.”
The promise of the Angel’s story ignited Remus’s heart, excitement fluttering in his chest again. If only he could tell where the Angel’s voice was coming from.
“The mirror,” the Angel said to him. “Look at your face in the mirror. I am here.”
“Angel of Music, my guide and guardian. Secret, but hide no longer,” Remus sang, stepping closer and closer to the mirror, where the Angel’s figure stood. A tall figure cloaked in black with a stark white mask covering half of his face. The very image of the Phantom of the opera house the dancers had gossiped about, but his very own Angel of Music. “Talk to me, strange angel.”
The Angel sang a few notes, deepening Remus’s song. This was their way of communication and it gripped Remus’s heart stronger than the feeling of being onstage. This feeling of singing with the angel, his angel, something he had to himself and shared with no one else, this feeling he liked.
As if reading his mind, the Angel sang softly, “I am your Angel of Music.”
As if on cue, the door knob shook. “Whose voice is that? Remus? Who’s in there with you? Remus!” Grant’s voice called from the other side of the door, rattling the knob more furiously.
Remus’s head snapped around to glance at the door. “Remus,” the Angel’s voice whispered. “I am your Angel of Music,” it said, “come to me. We’ll sing together, I promise you.”
Grant’s voice called frantically from the other side of the door. “Remus!” he called. “Remus!”
Remus turned back around and stepped closer to the mirror, the Angel’s image vanishing. Confused, Remus pushed the mirror aside and there was the Angel of Music, cloaked in black and wearing a mask covering half of his face. There was his guardian, his friend, his tutor. His secret. The Angel held his gloved hand out for Remus and Remus took it in his without hesitation. Behind his mask the Angel smiled a little. Remus grinned and began to sing again. He sang of how the angel first appeared to him and how they met. The Angel led him through a corridor lit by beautiful candles on the walls. Remus could barely stop to look because the Angel gently tugged him along. He sang about what it felt like to see the Angel, to sing with him. That feeling that he was never alone, always guarded by the angel which kept him safe. How this entity always seemed to know that he was thinking. He finished his verse with a few longer notes followed by a series of shorter notes in a descending line to create an eerie atmosphere of mystery he knew the Angel liked.
“The Phantom of the opera is here,
Inside my mind.”
The Angel led him down a flight of stairs, around corners, down hallways through a labyrinth that seemed like a dream. He sang, in a lower octave to compliment Remus’s high notes. He sang about how he wanted Remus to sing with him their strange and mysterious music, about how much influence he had over Remus even though tore away his gaze to glance behind his shoulder as if they were being followed. The Angel gave his hand a squeeze and Remus quickly turned to look at him again with an expression filled with awe. He sang a couplet at the end to remind Remus that no matter who lay in the opera house behind- or rather, above- them, he would always be the one who knew Remus best.
“The Phantom of the opera is there,
Inside your mind.”
Remus sang a verse, the Phantom joining in, singing his own lines.
“I am the mask you wear…”
“It’s me they hear.”
Remus was a little disconcerted by the fact that he was now being taken through what looked like the opera house’s very own version of the Paris catacombs underneath the theater by the hand of a complete stranger, but he supposed that there could be worse things and besides, he was intrigued by this figure in some way he just couldn't explain. As the Phantom led him down some steps and into a small rowboat, Remus couldn’t help but wonder again if this was some sort of dream. Their song came to an end and the Phantom kept rowing. Remus gripped the sides of the wooden rowboat and gently touched the surface of the murky water below him with one hand. Nope, not a dream. The Phantom, standing at the bow of the small boat, took a cloth from his lapel pocket and handed it to Remus who took it gratefully and wiped his hand then settling his hands on his lap, folded neatly and took to enjoying the eerie and dream-like atmosphere. He was confident that whatever danger the Phantom posed, if any, Remus could handle himself, so he decided to enjoy himself in this unique experience. He knew he could never tell anyone about this because no one would believe him, but that didn’t bother him. He’d always been fond of secrets.