The Phil
By Cymbidium
A Phantom of the Opera Fan Fiction
© 2006
Disclaimer: I do not own The Phantom of the Opera, but I do own The Phil.
Author's Note: This is my first attempt at fan fiction. This story takes place in San Francisco, but the city and geography have been fictionalized for the sake of the story. I welcome constructive criticism and suggestions, but will not accept flames because I don't believe they serve any useful purpose. If you'd like a reply, please email me. Many thanks to my story editors Musicallover and Penmora Zenith. I hope you enjoy.
Chapter 1
The Phil
Christine and Megan were power-walking their way to the Bay Area Cultural District, which was a good hour away on foot. Arms pumping rapidly, they had to get to the world-renown San Francisco Philharmonic while the sun lasted, which was always an iffy proposition in the land of the Golden Gate.
"This is so exciting!" Christine huffed as they trudged through Chinatown on their way to the Music Center. "It seems like I've been trying to see this forever, but I never get there at the right time!"
"I honestly don't know anyone who's been as dead-set on seeing this thing as you," Megan said as she dodged a couple of slow-moving pedestrians. "If we don't see it this time, I seriously think we're going to have to get some inside help."
The San Francisco Philharmonic was renown for its outstanding talent to be sure, but Christine's focus was on the beauty and design of the building itself. Designed by an anonymous architect, it was said that looking upon the building was like seeing magic performed as images would suddenly emerge from the myriad decorative details etched on its walls, arches, and alcoves. For those fortunate enough to see it, their reaction would not only be surprise, but awe for the work of this unknown genius.
After the better part of fifty minutes, they finally reached the Phil, and their first stop was the water fountain, and then a seat on a bench across the courtyard from the Phil, facing its enormous and meticulously designed façade. They stared at it expectantly, not certain of the images that were to appear or when they would, but keeping their fingers crossed that today was the day they'd be rewarded.
As they stared raptly, not moving, Christine was suddenly interrupted from her concentration by a slight movement in the shadows of the very alcove she'd been staring at for the past few minutes.
"Did you see that?" she asked as she reached over and touched Megan's arm. She didn't want to look away for fear it would disappear.
"See what?" Megan looked at her and then craned to see what Christine was pointing at.
There was a darker shadow there than there should have been, and she could have sworn she'd seen a flash of white, but it'd been too high up to see clearly. Not seeing anything now, she thought perhaps it was just wishful thinking. "Nothing," she said, disappointed. "We'd better head back while the sun lasts."
They took another quick sip from the water fountain before retracing their steps out of the courtyard. It would take the better part of an hour to walk back to Chinatown.
As they left the courtyard, there was a gentle sigh that escaped from one of the alcoves above the square.