The Phantom of the Orchestra | Fanfiction

Chapter 1

"Hello,"

Said a girl to a boy nearby. The boy looked at her. She wore a blue and white dress, with a black, shiny shoes. There were a big blue ribbon on her hip. She had a gold colored hair, and had a blue, liquid, shiny eyes. The boy bowed at her.

"Hi," he said, nervously, "I'm - Raoul Cartnel."

"Sounds like a French name," the girl said, laughing, "I'm Christine Lara."

"You sounds like a French name, too," said Raoul, nervously.

"Really?" Christine asked. Raoul just nodded softly.

"So," said Christine, "how's in school now?"

Then she started to blush, shaking her body left to right, nervously. Raoul saw Christine doing this action, then he started to do this again.

Some funny moments have passed, and it was time for a next class. The chime bells rang.

"Oh," Chrstine said, "If you have time this noon, bring the violin and come to my house - you did a very great job on violin concert yesterday."

"Got that," said Raoul, then he ran into his classroom.

That noon, Chrstine's mother saw her daughter's friend coming into her house. She was wearing a purple T-shirt with a black thick pants, and was writing something. She instantly got up when she saw her daughter coming in, and saw a black violin case beside Christine's friend.

"Hello, Raoul!" she said, joyfully.

"You have come here well! I am a composer, and as you know, Christine is a piccolo player!"

"Wow," said Raoul, "I'm surprised. Christine, is your family all musicians?"

"Well, obviously," said Christine, "My father is in New York for working in a shopping center, so, not really. But my mom is a composer, and I am so proud of it!"

"Anyway," said Christine's mother, "I have heard your news, Raoul, that you did an excellent violin performance yesterday, am I correct?"

"Yes," said Raoul, blushing, "But it wasn't a great-"

"Oh, it was!" said Christine and her mother.

"I recorded a video for my mom, and I showed it to her," said Christine.

Raoul didn't said anything, he just blushed that his performance was an embarrassment.

"That is not embarrassing," said Christine's mother, "and I didn't call you to talk about that - I am going to tell you children a story."

"Yay!" cried Christine, quickly gathering an Orange Juice from the fridge, "a story!"

Then she looked at her friend. He was blinking his eyes, with puzzled face, looking at Christine.

"Oh," said Christine, with a mild laugh, "Sorry. I usually listen about the stories about music - sometimes she tells about the composers in the past, and sometimes she turns on the music radio and tolds about the song that was tuning on, lots and lots of stories!"

"Ah, but today is a special one," said her mother, "Since Raoul is here, I'm going to tell you the special story. It is about the genius, who lives in heaven."

Christine's eyes lit up. Her face went bright, and she popped up and down, like telling that she couldn't bear any longer to wait.

"Oh, oh, oh, please tell us!" cried Christine.

"Now, don't rush, my dear," said her mother, "I'm going to tell you now."

Then she cleared her throat, and told the story.

"There," she said, pointing her right hand to the sky, "is the Genius of Instrument, who knows all the knowledge, the sound, and the tone of all insturments. He knows how to play the true music with every instrument, and teaches you when you meet your potential."

"Have you met the Genius of Instrument?" asked Christine.

"No, sweetheart," said her mother, patting on her daughter's head, "I have not met him - I am a composer, not a player. So I cannot meet him. But, someday, you will, my Christine."

"And so to Raoul, right?" asked Christine, looking at her friend.

"Yes," said her mother, "he will too. But the Genius will come upon when you finds your potential."

"How do I find a potential, mother?"

"Practice," said the storyteller, "Then you will find it."

Christine never forgot that story, and after 9 years, when she was in College, her mother died because of an accident during a flight to New York. Christine falled down into a deep, deep saddness of her dear mother's death, and her friend in Music University, Raoul, carefully comforted her.