Broken Strings and Shattered Dreams: Part 3

First off, let me say Happy Valentine's day to one and all! Let this day be a reminded to love everyone, because we all know in this day and age, everyone needs to be loved. These are just some lyrics that first popped into my mind (some more random than others that may not actually fit the Valentine's Day mold) while writing this small little tribute before my fan fiction.

Let us love
Like were were children
Make us feel like we're still living
In a world I know is burning to the ground
Give us time to beat the system
Make us find what we're still missing
In a world I know is burning to the ground

~ Let Us Love by Needtobreathe

I love you for sentimental reasons
I hope you do believe me
I've given you my heart 

~ I Love You (For Sentimental Reasons) written by Ivory Watson and William Best 

Wise men say only fools rush in 
But I can't help falling in love with you
Shall I stay? 
Would it be a sin?
If I can't help falling in love with you?
Like the river flows, surely to the sea
Darling so we'll go, some things were meant to be
Take my hand, take my whole life to
Cause I can't help falling in love with you 

 ~ Can't Help Falling in Love With You version by Tyler Joseph

I don't want to set the world on fire
I just want to start a flame in your heart

~ I Don't Want to Set the World on Fire by the Inkspots

May 1885

It had been six years since Brigitte left the care of Erik. She was now six years old, her birthday coming next week. Antoinette was now nineteen and an excellent ballerina. Brigitte was a ballerina, but she never found quite a love for it. She tried singing and it was something she loved. But most of all, Brigitte loved to play the cello and the violin. She was excellent at it. It sounded like music from Heaven. But she never got the chance to play them, because the last time she did, she got into trouble. The managers Monsieur Firmin and Andre put her to work as a servant instead. She ran errands and tended to be a seamstress. Everyone bossed her around. Whether it was the managers, the stage hands, the ballerinas or even the singers. Erik, who was now nineteen, was not satisfied. Though he wished for Brigitte to never know him, he was always looking out for her. He had told Antoinette to take good care of her. Ordering her around and making her a servant was not part of the plan. So one night, he waited until Antoinette came down for her usual nightly glass of water in the kitchen. She walked in and was taking a sip of the cool water, when Erik sternly asked, "Antoinette?" The girl dropped the cup, the water and glass spilling on the floor. 

"Erik?" Antoinette hissed, as she quickly grabbed a broom. "You scared me!" She scurried to pick up all the broken glass. Erik only stood, his golden eyes burning into her gaze. He had on his usual black trousers, white button up shirt and waist coat. It was complete with his cloak and his usual mask. 

"Well you deserved that for the life you've given my little Brigitte. I told you to take care of her. That goes beyond seeing that she has somewhere warm to sleep, clothing her and feeding her. I want her to have a bright future! Not one as a servant! I order you to give her a better future. Or I will myself!" Erik snapped. With that and a swish of his new cape, he disappeared. 

The next morning Antoinette talked to the managers about making Brigitte a cellist or a violinist. Monsieur Andre thought it was a splendid idea, but Monsieur Firmin did not. So Antoinette went away discouraged. In the walls, Erik listened to the conversation. He decided that he was already not fond of Firmin. Andre, well he'd see if he would like him. Well, if Antoinette can't change Firmin's mind, maybe I can. So the next day he wrote a note to the managers. 

Dear Monsieur Firmin and Monsieur Andre,

There has been a terrible decision made that could turn this opera house to ruins. Mademoiselle Brigitte must be made a cellist or a violinist, and she must be one of them in the orchestra in the near future. Preferably by the time she is sixteen. If you do not, a disaster beyond your imagination will occur. 

Your humble servant, 

O. G. 

The next day, when Monsieur Andre went into his and Monsieur Firmin's office, he spotted a note on his desk. He opened it and read it thoroughly. When Monsieur Firmin came in, he showed him the note. 

"What on earth? We cannot put Brigitte in lessons! She is a servant girl! She is not even pretty!" Monsieur Firmin snapped, throwing his hands up. 

"Why not? I say we give her a change, Firmin. What could we possibly lose? I've been telling you to give her a chance. And look: the message says "If you do not, a disaster beyond your imagination will occur". We can't risk that. Let us give her chance." Andre persisted. 

"No. I refuse to listen to this O. G.." Firmin snapped. With Erik listening in the walls, he was dissatisfied. So when the orchestra was practicing in the afternoon, he went up to where the backdrops were and cut the ropes. The backdrop fell to the ground with a huge thump. The orchestra screamed and ran from their instruments. Erik let out a maniacal laugh, as it bounced off of every wall. It was loud and creepy sounding. Firmin and Andre came to the scene. 

"I tell you, put the girl in lessons!" Andre told Firmin. Firmin, now a bit shaken, nodded. Brigitte was sent for, where Andre and Firmin were waiting. 

"Ah, Brigitte. We would like to give you lessons on the violin or the cello. Whichever you pick." Andre smiled. Brigitte smiled and asked, "Do you mean it?" Andre happily nodded. When she turned away, he shot a smug look to Firmin. Brigitte picked up the violin and started to play. It was the oddest most beautiful tune. It was sad and heartbreaking, even haunting, if you must call it, but in the same way, it was sweet. Erik froze in shock. That was the tune that he used to lull his little Brigitte to sleep. The tune that he used to make Brigitte stop crying. It brought him to tears. He had to remove his white mask from his face to wipe the sad tears that ran down his deformed cheek. How he missed Brigitte! There was never a spare moment that went by that Erik didn't think about her. Brigitte played, with tears flowing down her pink cheeks. The ballerinas, stage hands, orchestra and the chorus singers gathered around her. When she finished, everyone applauded. 

"Brigitte, where did you learn that?" "You were amazing!" "Oh, Brigitte we never knew!" Were a few of the endless questions that the ballerinas asked, who gathered around her. Even Antoinette was shocked. 

"She……She…..She is a prodigy!" Firmin spat out in amazement. Antoinette went over and knelt in front of Brigitte and wiped the tears off her face. 

"Brigitte, my dear where did you learn that?" Antoinette asked, her voice strained. She did a good job of hiding it, after all, Brigitte was only six years old.  

"I-I don't know. I remember it. I remember it so clearly." Brigitte admitted. "I don't know where it's from." Erik leaned against the wall to support himself. She remembered! She was only six months old! He figured that she was at least five months old when he found her. He started to cry again. He didn't understand why. He went off to his house. Curse my tears! Curse the feelings I feel inside! A monster should not weep. A monster does not deserve to weep! Erik chided himself. Shaking his head, Erik had to do something before Brigitte's seventh birthday.