59Disclaimer: This is based on the 2004 movie version of the Phantom of the Opera, given that a certain LC will be pissed if I put this under Musicals and Plays. I am not copying her work. This was all my idea, no matter what she may say.
Anyway, I do not own POTO, but Charlotte de Chagny, Edward Finalman, Margaret (Maggie) Giry, Isabella San Marco, Alessandro (Sandro) Moro, Marie Giry, Joey Wosten, Chanel Vignette, Andre, Tomas, Susana, Katherine (Kate) Giry, Elisabeth (Beth) Giry and Erik Mulheim the Sixth are all my OCs, as well as the four other loves of the Phantoms.
Charlotte, Erik, everyone with Giry in their name, Andre and Tomas are all descended from the people in POTO. Whatever. You probably want to read the actual fuckin' story, at this point. Read. Enjoy. Review. I mean it. Review!
The following letters are excerpts from the diary of Christine Daae.
My darling Raoul,
As I write these word, I know my life is almost at it end. I have thought this final letter through and now inscribe the words for our descendants.
Though I have lived a full and happy life, I cannot forget the wrongs I caused Erik Mulheim, the Phantom of the Opera.
Erik had illegitimate twins with my beloved friend, Meg Giry: a daughter who was quite pretty and named in my honor. The other child was a son, who bore the same name and features as his father.
Shortly before his death, Erik sent me a last message, much like the one I am writing to you. I have pasted the letter within these pages:
Christine,
Forgive me for the way I treated you. I did it because I love you, and I wanted my freedom.
There is a curse on me and all my male descendants. Until we can love and be loved for ourselves, we will continue to bear disfigured faces and wallow in death and destruction. I realize only now, on my deathbed, that trying to force you to love me would not have broken this curse.
I beg you once again to forgive me.
I remain
Yours,
Erik Mulheim,
The Phantom of the Opera
Raoul, these words brought so much thought rushing to the surface. Could I have loved Erik, had I known the results? What would have happened if you and I had not left him?
I suppose we shall never know. Well, my love, I feel I should finish this letter and kiss you one last time.
Your loving wife,
Christine Daae
Comtesse de Chagny
"Little Lotte"
November 10th, 2009, 139 years after the Affair of The Phantom of The Opera
"Ugh!" Charlotte de Chagny wrinkled her nose in disgust as she stepped out of her hostel on the Rue de Montmorency. "Oh, my God, what a stench!" The smell of last night's escargot dinner was strong. Nineteen-year-old Charlotte, or Lottie to her friends, had not been to Paris since her grandmother, Mamon had died last spring. She still was not used to how different Paris was from her hometown of New York City.
Charlotte was a Broadway prodigy and a Juilliard attendee who had been recruited to play Christine Daae in the debut production of L'Opéra International: The Phantom of the Opera.
She raised her hand to hail a taxi. "L'Opéra Populaire, si vous plait, Monsieur." She requested in flawless French as she stepped in.
"Mais oui, mademoiselle." Ten minutes later, Charloote stepped out to drink in the details of the opera house. She dropped 15 francs into the cabby's waiting palms. "Merci." he said, before speeding off again.
"LOTTIE!" A loud squeal came from behind her. "Edward, it's Lottie!" Suddenly, Charlotte was tackled by Maggie Giry and Edward Finalman. The trio hadn't seen each other since Charlotte had dumped Edward during the final performance of Jesus Christ Superstar. Edward was attending Harvard and Maggie had been working with her Grandmama Marie to refurbish L'Opéra Populaire for the debut season.
"What's the buzz? Tell me what's happening? Oh, what's the buzz? Tell me what's happening!" The girls sang, throwing up their hands in delight.
"Why should you want to know? Lottie, tell me what your role is. Mmmmmmmm. Maggie's Meg, I'm playing Raoul. All we need to find is Phantom and we'll all be here and know." Edward retorted.
Charlotte half-smiled, half-grimaced. "You figured it out. I'm playing Christine."
"Thees-a leetle girl is a-playing Christine?" A loud voice demanded. The trio turned to see a girl with firey red curls in Italian designer wear and a slightly pudgy boy behind her.
"How dare you!" Charlotte sang, then lowered her voice to speech. "I am fully qualified to play the female lead!"
"Oh, re-a-lax. I'm just a-joking. I'm Isabella San Marco. I'm a-playing Carlotta."
"Buon giorno. My name is Charlotte de Chagny. I'm a direct descendant of Christine and Raoul. This is Maggie Giry and Edward Finalman. They're playing―"
"Meg. She's my ancestor."
"Raoul. Just because I'm the only one who looks good enough to play him." Charlotte punched him in the arm. "Ow."
The pudgy boy stepped forward and took Charlotte's hand. "Signorina, it is my honor." He kissed the top of her hand. Edward glowered. "My given name is Alessandro Moro. I will be playing the role of Piangi."
"It's nice to meet you, Alessandro." Maggie stepped forward. He took her hand, dropping Charlotte's.
"Please call me Sandro, Margarita. All of my good friends do." He kissed Maggie's hand too.
"Stop that, you lecher!" Kissing Maggie is one thing, she's just a good friend." Edward burst out. Maggie's face fell. "But it's another thing entirely when you kiss my girlfriend!"
"Ex-girlfriend." Charlotte corrected. "Remember? I dumped you. Besides, Sandro probably can't help himself. Where are you from, Sandro?"
"Roma. Where else?" Sandro shrugged.
"See? Maggie and I are both blonde and all southern Italian men are amorous and love blondes. I toured Italy with...um… in 2004." Charlotte didn't want to talk about her mom. Or her dad, for that matter. Both her parents had died in a car crash on New Year's Day in 2005, her fifteenth birthday. Mamon had come from her cozy little flat in Paris to take care of Charlotte and the penthouse on Fifth Avenue. They'd been so close and happy until Mamon had gotten pneumonia and gone back to France just in time to die in her own bed. The memory was still fresh and painful in Charlotte's mind. "Look, could we just go in, please?"