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The lights darkened as the curtain rose and the first few notes of the opening act began. The audience watched silently in awe as they took in the scene before them. Brilliant voices that belonged to beautiful men and women in even fancier costumes rang throughout the immaculate theater. And in the shadows sat a young man, a boy really. His features were hardly distinguishable as half of his face was hidden in the shadows. He listened to the music with a pleased and delighted smile on his lips, and gazed at the audience to see their reactions. His gaze traveled over the many men and women watching the show intently, but fell on a young girl sitting in section two. Her long brown hair crowned her face and her chocolate eyes shined with excitement and wonder as she watched the dancers. She was very average, he noticed, but there was something about her, something...
And he knew that they would meet again. As the young man leaned back in his chair in box five, he turned his attention back to the performance. He would make it their fate.
"Father said, "When I'm in heaven, child, I will send the Angel of Music to you". Well, father is dead, Raoul, and I have been visited by the Angel of-"
"No, No, Emily-you must sound more excited, more hopeful. You are trying to convince him."
The woman tried her lines again as the director sighed.
"I suppose that everyone is getting tired", he muttered to himself. "Alright, everyone, go home. We'll try again in the morning."
As the members of the cast and crew began to depart, the director called out a name.
Emily, may I have a moment with you?"
"Of course." the woman answered.
The man guided her down the stage steps and they seated themselves in the first row.
"I understand that this must be new to you; Paris, the theater..."
"Oh, no, Adam. I have been here once before."
He looked at her with curiosity.
"Once when I was sixteen, my mother took me to see a performance." She thought it over. "Everything is new to me though, and so different here. It's a whole new world on the stage."
"Well, you have talent, Emily. I saw that the very first time I saw you perform. And it takes a while to get used to. Are you sure that there is nothing else troubling you?"
"No, nothing at all. I guess I'm just tired from the rehearsal."
Adam smiled and patted her hand. "Aren't we all?" He chuckled and stood. "Well, you go home now and get some sleep. I'll go and see that everything is locked up. We have an early rehearsal tomorrow morning."
As Adam hurried backstage, Emily glanced about the extravagant theater. She had been there for a month already, rehearsing at the Paris Opera House, and yet she still couldn't believe that it was real. She recalled vividly the day she received an invitation to join as a member of the cast. Adam had waited patiently for her outside of her dressing room an hour after her final showing for the day. Stepping outside her room, she was surprised to see Adam Vancquet-one of the world famous theatrical directors. he had told her that he had watched her performance and after introducing himself, further explained that the show, The Phantom of the Opera , would be opening in Paris, France. It had never been done before at the Paris Opera House, he explained, for that was where the myths of the true phantom lay. It took her many days to decide, and as a final agreement between them was made, she bid farewell to her friends and family in Port Charles and New York.
The Paris Opera House was even more fascinating than she remembered. She had always loved France; the people, the culture...But this-this was a dream come true.
Now, in the solitude of the empty theater, she smiled to herself as she stood center stage. This was where the story began, she thought gazing around. And then, getting into her role, she began to rehearse.
"Angel! I hear you!
Speak-
I listen...
stay by my side,
guide me!
Angel, my soul was
weak-
forgive me....
enter at last-"
Her singing was cut short by the sound a voice joining hers. She jumped and whirled around.
"Simon!" What are you doing here?"
Her co-star chuckled and walked over. "I thought that you had left, but I heard someone singing."
Emily made a face and admitted, "I was hoping that everyone had gone, so that I could rehearse by myself."
"Without your Phantom?" He bent in a mock bow. "I am insulted." Nevertheless, he smiled.
"Do you believe in that story, Simon?"
"You mean that a ghost haunted this theater?" Simon asked, straightening. "Come on, Emily, it's only a play based on a book some guy wrote a hundred years ago."
"But what if it were true?"
Simon shrugged. "He's long gone by now if it were. You're not worried because of the play being performed here are you?" He watched her closely, and as she remained silent, he took hold on her hand and said, "Come on, Em, there's nothing to worry about. I'll take you out for something to eat and then I'll drive you home."
Emily smiled and followed after him, their footsteps echoing throughout the desolate theater.
As the door leading to the outside world closed and locked, a figure stood, separating itself from the shadows, and applauded.
They found a tiny café down the road from the Opera House and seated themselves at a table in the corner. The café was brightly lit and held a sense of warmth. Few others occupied the nearby tables, however, as it was late in the evening.
Sitting across from each other and drinking their coffee and tea, Emily and Simon talked about the show, about Paris, about memories.
"Why did you leave New York?" Simon inquired.
"The same reason that you did- it was the opportunity of a lifetime. Most people can only dream about performing here."
But Simon shook his head. "No, I meant Port Charles."
She fell silent a moment and then answered, "I had to."
Unsatisfied with this answer, he repeated her in question. She nodded and set down her cup. "My family didn't want me going to New York. They wanted me to stay and carry on the business."
"Why didn't you just tell them what you wanted?"
Emily laughed. "You don't know the Quartermaines. They never take 'no' for an answer."
"Now then, we have paid your tuition for one of the finest universities in the country. You'll get a wonderful education there and then you'll be ready for ELQ."
The eighteen-year-old female rolled her eyes and folded her arms across her chest as she listened patiently for her turn to speak.
"I don't want to work with ELQ, Grandfather. I have told you so many times. I want to sing and dance."
"No, no." Edward said firmly. "I will not have my granddaughter up there prancing around on stage."
"I did it for the Nurses Ball every year." She protested.
"Yes, but that is for charity." He pointed out.
"But what about me, it's what I want to do for my career. I don't want to work in an office, I never have."
They both sighed. She knew that it was going no where. He knew that she would give in.
"I won't have the respectable Quartermaine showcased in lights because my granddaughter is up there dancing to and with who knows what."
Respectable, Emily thought, there's a million and one laughs right there.
"It's Broadway, Grandfather. You and Grandmother have been to the theater a thousand times."
"But not to see a child up there. No, it will not happen. Now, you have an apartment off college campus. During the breaks you'll come back to ELQ and-"
Emily threw her hands up in the air. They were back to this again. She shot a look to the rest of the family who was standing together, watching the scene.
"Edward," Monica finally spoke up, "that's not Emily's dream."
"No, no Monica. Don't give me that dream stuff. We need someone to hold down the business later."
"Well what about AJ?" Emily protested. "You did appoint him CEO."
"AJ wouldn't know what to do with that position if it hit him in the head."
AJ glared at Ned as Edward ignored her question and stated firmly, "You are a Quartermaine and it is your job to carry on the Quartermaine name. That means carrying on the business and that's that."
"You're forgetting, Grandfather," Emily spit out, "that first I was a Bowen. And Bowen's follow their dreams."
Emily sighed at the memory. Her last outburst had caused fury in the family, and she had left the house and took cover at Nikolas' studio. After conversing with him, she decided to leave for good. After getting money together, she dared go back to the mansion late at night and packed her bags.
"They didn't know that you had gone?" Simon asked, appalled.
"No, not until the next evening anyway." She chuckled at Simon's expression. "That's the Quartermaine's, that's just how they are. Unless they need you for something they don't know that you exist."
"Did you ever go back?"
"Once or twice. And they had visited me in my apartment in New York. As much as I hate to admit it, I do miss them. I am a Quartermaine. It's not in my blood, but I am a part of the family. And they did some unbelievable things, but they sure did love each other."
"So you followed your dream. Are you happy?"
Emily looked up. "Are you kidding? I'm thrilled." She took a sip of her tea, watching Simon over the rim of her cup. "Tell me about your life."
Simon shrugged. "There isn't much to tell. My parents split up when I was twelve and I never saw my mom again. She wrote us sometimes, saying how she missed us. But then gradually they stopped. We still received birthday cards each year...but then those too ended. When I was sixteen, my dad, sister, and I moved to New York. That's when I first started to love theater. And then when I was twenty, I dropped out of college. School was never for me, and I must admit that I'm much happier now. I got a few roles in off-Broadway productions and then landed a small role in Les Misérables. And then it just took off from there."
"What about your family?"
"My dad supported my decision. He too never cared much for school and he's successful now. My little sister, though, believes otherwise. She's at college in Boston."
"It must be hard to be so far away."
Simon nodded. "Yes, but it's good to be out on my own."
As he looked up, she followed his gaze to the clock.
"I'd better get you home." He stood and paid for the beverages. Emily, a bit disappointed, got up as well and gathered her coat and purse. As the two walked out together, Emily turned to him.
"You forgot to tell me of your love life." She teased.
Simon winked and opened the car door for her. "Your Phantom has to have some secrets."
"No, no. You have to go up another octave, not down."
"Madeline, if I go up another octave, I'll croak!"
"You'll get it, try again."
Emily glanced over at the teenager, who was dangling her legs over the side of the stage, in desperate plea. The girl looked up.
"Don't look at me," she laughed. "I've already had my voice lesson." She turned back to her book.
The woman sighed and muttered, "Just you wait until you want me to bail you out."
"I didn't hear that!" the girl called out.
"One more time, dear." Madeline coaxed.
And so Emily tried the song again, this time hitting the notes perfectly.
"Good." Madeline said, getting up from the piano. "I'll see you tomorrow then."
As the woman gathered her sheet music and left, Emily walked over to the teen and sat down beside her.
"Two and a half hours," She muttered in disbelief, "and now rehearsal..."
The girl laughed. "You'll get used to it."
Emily glanced at her young friend. "Coming from someone who has been doing this for all of the sixteen years of her life." She peered at the book in the girl's hands. "What are you reading there, Lynn?"
Lynn held up the book to show her. "The Phantom of the Opera by Gaston Leroux. I figured that it would be interesting to read. I mean, we are at the Opera House performing the play." She paused. "Did you know that he was real? His name was Erik and he was a ventriloquist...that's how he could throw his voice and make all of those echoing effects."
Emily had to smile at the ballet dancer. "It's been a hundred years," She used Simon's words, "I doubt that there will be any chandeliers coming down here."
Lynn laughed. "You're right. I guess it's just odd, knowing that the whole story is true."
"Rehearsal in ten minutes!"
Both looked up at the sound of Adam's voice coming from backstage. "Scene 3!"
Emily stood and helped the girl to her feet. As they hurried backstage to get ready, Emily slowed and turned around, her gaze settling on the chandelier.
"Alright now, everyone's here? Good. Now, we're going to be starting with Scene 3 and going right into Scene 4. I need Emily, Simon, Ethan..." Adam's voice trailed off as he glanced about the small cast gathered on the stage. "Ethan, we're missing Ethan."
"I'm here!"
The crowd turned around to see a man in his early thirties hurrying across the stage.
Adam shook his head as he turned back to his clipboard. "You're late, Ethan." He muttered loud enough for him to hear.
The man apologized and said, "I couldn't get in."
Adam's head shot up.
"What do you mean, you couldn't get in?"
"All of the doors were locked."
"All of them?" The director asked suspiciously.
Ethan nodded and repeated, "all of them."
"Impossible." Simon muttered.
"It's the Phantom!"
The crowd turned around to the teenager who had spoken. Someone chuckled.
"Lynn, you're becoming more like your character every day."
As the cast and crew laughed, Emily watched the sixteen-year-old. It was true. The part of Meg Giry couldn't have suited anyone better. Lynn was a petite blonde who had worked in the theater all of her life. Her mother taught ballet and modern dance at a highly praised academy and her father, once an actor himself, was the manager of the theater. With so much experience and the dancing and singing genes in the family, it was no wonder she was talented. Though her life was far different from Emily's as a Quartermaine, Lynn reminded her of herself when she was sixteen.
She was devoted to the things that she loved and yet she was free-spirited. Her only friends were those involved in the theater, and even those were few, as most were older than she. And although she could be quite naive, she had a lot of inner strength, despite her fragile appearance.
Yes, Emily admired this young friend of hers.
Turning her attention back to the others, she heard Adam announce that he was going to go chek on the doors.
"...a nuisance." She caught him say as he hurried backstage.
The cast and crew began to head back to their dressing rooms. Simon and Emily walked over to Lynn who was watching the others go.
"Don't mind them." Simon soothed.
Lynn rolled her eyes and folded her arms across her chest. "It was a joke, everyone knows that he's long gone."
Emily watched as Lynn's eyes traveled up to the chandelier, and she smiled in spite of herself. As the trio headed backstage, Emily leaned in and whispered in the girl's ear, "I believe you."
Lynn looked up in surprise. "You do?"
Emily smiled and nodded.
"But what you said is true...he is long gone."
"Well, Erik is long gone," Emily grinned and pointed to Simon, "but we still have another Phantom on our hands."
Lynn giggled as she followed the others towards the dressing rooms.
High up above the stage a man, hidden by the shadows, smiled as the men and women below conversed. He shook his head sadly as he watched the tiny blonde depart with the others.
"Dear child," he whispered. "If only you knew how right you were."
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