Disclamer- I don't own Phantom or Rent. Phantom currently belongs to ALW, Susan Kay, and Gaston Leroux. Rent belongs or belonged to Jonathan Larson, who, I have been informed, died of aids. Oh, now I've set myself crying, so just read my fic and ignore me.
Erik sat at his organ, his hands poised over the keyboard, waiting. He stared at the keys, the rage inside him building. He did this every day, but he could never manage to play a thing. What had happened? He had been a genius! He had written operas, he had built the labyrinth and this lair! But of course; Christine had happened. Christine had come into his life and allowed him to have a glimpse of happiness, only to leave him for a fop and take with her his last piece of sanity; his music.
How do you write a song
When the chords sound wrong
Though they once sounded
Right and rare?
When the notes are sour
Where is the power
You once had to
Ignite the air?
Christine. He had once begged of her, "Share each day with me, each night, each morning." Now he cursed that wish. She never let him be free; she would never let him forget. Every waking moment she tortured him, she haunted his dreams by night.
How do you leave the past behind
When it keeps finding ways to
Get to your heart?
It reaches way down deep and
Tears you inside-out 'till you're
Torn apart!
Erik threw one last, despairing glance at his organ and stood. He left the room, knowing that he could never again play music, and bitterly hating himself for it.
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