Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ The Phantom of the Opera ❯ Act I ( Chapter 1 )

Title: The Phantom of the Opera

Author: Windy-chan

E-mail: WindyKotaa@aol.com

Archive: If you want it, just ask. ^^'

Pairings: 1+3

Warnings: Um... lime-ish? A bit.. shonen ai

Category: Songfic, AU, OOCish, POV (Trowa's), sappish... that sort of thing.

Notes: ^^' Finally finished this! Took long enough... okies, note that there will be at least a couple more of these stories (depending on how fast the plot moves...), so... basically, this is just Part 1. ^^;;;;; Also, while the plot is based off "The Phantom of the Opera"... its not the same thing. If you've seen it, you'll notice this... ^^' But that's ok! Hm... at least one more songfic in the series. ...Anything else? The song is "The Phantom of the Opera," which is one of my favorites. I'll be trying to have Gundam Wing chars in the roles, hopefully not *too* OOC... ^^' Hope you enjoy!

Oh! And thanks to Lyric for some feedback on the casting! ^-^ I heart you! Commenting is begged for and adored!

Disclaimer: Gundam Wing's not mine, Phantom of the Opera's not mine... ^^' You get the idea. Don't bother suing, all my money shall disappear when Otakon comes along.. maybe sooner...

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'Phantom of the Opera'

By Windy-chan

' ' -Thoughts

/ / - Lyrics

Darkness enveloped me, wrapping me tightly in its velvety grip. There was something comforting about it. The only source of illumination were a few sparse candles, casting flickering shadows on the walls and floor.

"Sing," a deep voice came from the darkness. A voice that somehow... was familiar to me... I felt as if I was in a dream... for I could not recall that voice from any place that I knew to be real.

My mouth opened and I began to sing, mere simple arpeggios.

"Stop," gentle fingers rested on my lips, stopping my voice. "Your body is tense, making your voice tense," his voice was calm, cool, soothing. "You cannot sing in this condition." (1)

"But-" I started to protest, but he cut me off with his most commanding tone.

"You cannot sing!" He didn't yell, but his voice rang in my ears, echoing slightly. Strong hands gripped my shoulders, slowly kneading the muscles there, forcing them to loosen. His breath was hot against my ear, causing me to shudder slightly. "Relax... then you can sing."

/In sleep

he sang to me,

in dreams

he came...

that voice

which calls to me

and speaks

my name.../

"Now. Sing." Suddenly I found myself bereft of his touch, the air cold against my ear.

/And do

I dream again?

For now

I find

the Phantom of the Opera

is there-

inside my mind.../

I take in a deep breath, using my lungs and diaphragm as he showed me, and began to sing. This time my voice came from a deeper place, and it was full and resonant.

"Yes," he hissed once again into my ear, his arms encircling me from behind. His hands pressed tightly to my chest, just below my ribs, pushing against my diaphragm. "Push as you sing! Use the air as it demands to be used!" The pressure ceased when I needed to inhale, but his hands remained. "Breathe... breathe to sing!"

/Sing once

again with me

our strange

duet...

My power

over you

grows stronger

yet.../

I breathed as he instructed me to, my diaphragm adding to the strength of my voice.

"Now... add passion to your voice." I stuttered when warm lips pressed against my neck.

/And though

you turn from me,

to glance

behind,/

"Sing!"

/The Phantom of the Opera

is there-/

Once again, I began to sing, adding the passion he was stirring within me to my voice.

/Inside your mind.../

"Yes... strength... passion.... these are the tools a singer must use..."

/Those who

have seen your face

draw back

in fear.../

That passionate mouth was very distracting as it traveled from one side of my neck to the other, but my voice only wavered slightly. I gasped, however, when a sharp cold was pressed against my neck, a violent contrast to those warm lips.

/I am

the mask you wear...

It's me

they hear.../

"Don't stop... Trowa, you must never stop! The performance *must* go on!"

/Your/my spirit

and your/my voice,

in one

combined:/

'Get a hold of yourself, Barton! You know what he said... you must go on! A test is a test, no matter how... distracting...' I closed my eyes, forgetting all else but the music.

/The Phantom of the Opera

is there-/

"*Sing!*"

/Inside your/my mind.../

I could feel my vocal chords straining, and my voice began to fade.

"Sing!!!"

/He's there,

the Phantom of the Opera...

Beware

the Phantom of the Opera.../

"I... can't..." I was panting from exertion. I pulled away from his grasp, turning to stare at the area of darkness where he was last. "It... its starting to hurt, and I can't sing if I have no-hmph!" I was cut off when he pressed his lips against mine in a deep kiss, a kiss which made me melt. His arms encircled my waist again, holding me close as he kissed my lips again softly.

"I'm sorry, Angel. I should have heard your voice straining, but I did not. Forgive me?" he whispered soothingly.

I smiled softly, pressing my face against his neck. "Of course. I could never mad at you."

/In all

your fantasies,

you always

knew

that man

and mystery...

...were both

in you.../

I gasped as I felt that sharp cold just under my chin as he bit my neck possessively, just hard enough to leave a bruise to mark me as his own. I lifted my hand and traced down the icy plaster of the mask covering the right half of his face. He caught my hand, kissing the palm softly before pulling it back down to my side.

"Some things are better left unseen," his tone was so flat that I could sense somehow that whatever lay beneath the mask was a source of great pain for him.

/And in

this labyrinth,

where night

is blind,/

I freed my hands, lifting them to caress his face and mask gently, sensuously. "No matter what hideous scars lie beneath... you will always be beautiful to me," I whispered, pulling him close and pressing my lips hard upon his, transmitting all my passion, love and desire into that kiss. I could feel his lips turn upward slowly, and I felt my feelings returned through the kiss.

/The Phantom of the Opera

is there/here-/

The kiss didn't end until both of us were breathless. Suddenly, he passed his hand over my eyes, murmuring the word, "Sleep." My eyes felt very heavy, and I fell into blissful oblivion.

/Inside your/my mind.../

I woke to find myself in my dressing room. I rubbed at my eyes, wondering where he had disappeared to, and how long I had been gone. I stood slowly, to be sure I wasn't tipsy like last time (I fell flat on my face...), then walked to the door, slipping outside. I was in luck, another member of the company was walking in the hall. I recognized him from watching him rehearse as one of the major baritone roles. He was hard not to notice with his amazingly long auburn hair, which was held back in a braid, and startling violet eyes.

"Excuse me, Monsieur," I caught his attention, feeling a bit nervous about approaching him. "But could you be so kind as to tell me the date and time?"

He gave me a brilliant smile, pulling a handsome gold watch from a pocket on his satin vest. "It is ten 'till 11 on the 13th of May, Monsieur..." he paused, looking at my curiously. "I don't believe I know your name."

I smiled very slightly, holding out my hand. "I've only been here for a few weeks, I'm not surprised. Trowa Barton."

He took my hand with a strong, firm grip, shaking it with enthusiasm, that brilliant smile lighting his face once more. "A pleasure indeed, Monsieur Barton! I'm Duo Maxwell. I hope you're enjoying your employment at the opera house. Oh," he let go of my hand, gesturing to my neck. "I would hide that if I were you. The managers aren't very fond of their performers having any... romantic relationships." He winked at me, then continued his way down the hall, calling over his shoulder, "Until we meet again!"

I blinked in surprise and walked back into the dressing room, looking into the mirror. On my neck was a darkening bruise. It took me a moment to remember that *he* had given that to me.

/Sing, my Angel of Music!/

"Sing for me... only for me..." I heard very, very softly. I spun around, but I saw no one.

/He's there,

the Phantom of the Opera.../

I turned back to the mirror, staring at the bruise. 'It couldn't have been a dream... dreams don't leave bite marks... so he's... real? My Phantom? The 13th... have I really been gone for 2 days? He's not just... in my mind... he's there... my Phantom of the Opera...'

~TBC!

Author's Notes:

(1) This is actually a true fact. Just the way tense muscles can give you a headache, a tense body makes your vocal chords tense, which makes it hard to sing. At least... sing with any sort of decency. ^^' This is one of the reasons why people have trouble singing when they have stage fright.