Universe: The Phantom of the Opera (a 2nd POTO fanfic titled: The True Angel)
OC: Mysty (Play by – Nastya Zhidkova)
Note: Considering POTO turned 30 yesterday, I thought this would be fitting.
“Oh, Mysty you cannot be serious!” Christine begged of her friend.
Mysty turned the stem of her wineglass in her fingertips, staring into the red liquid as if it could whisper secrets to her. How could she explain that after nine years of practically raising Gustave, seeing Raoul nearly run the family into ruin, and watching Christine regret a decision she made a decade ago…she had to leave? The pain of this house, despite the little Vicomte’s rambunctious behavior, was too much. She still walked by the Opera House on a daily basis which didn’t help matters. Mysty herself still carried a torch for one who could never be hers, and it was impossible to know where Madame Giry had sent him.
“I’m afraid it’s time for me to find my own life, Christine.” Mysty sat the glass down, not bothering to sip the liquid. “I’ve trespassed here long enough.”
“But who will look after Gustave?” Christine pleaded, as if trying to find someway to convince her friend to stay.
“I’ll help you find an adequate replacement. But in a month I’m leaving.” She tried to keep her tone resolute and free from the resentment she held towards Christine that, while she did love her son, she didn’t give him the attention he deserved. That was Mysty’s doing.
“Where will you go?” The question came from Raoul who had finished several glasses of wine before the third course had been brought out.
“America,” she replied, holding her ground. The cries from Christine were filled with shock and hurt but she couldn’t waver. Paris held too much pain and she had to move on or forever live in the past. “There’s apparently a place, Coney Island, which is perfect for someone like me.” She fingered her white locks, secured back with a dark red ribbon. It matched the red gown she wore perfectly.
She could see that Raoul wasn’t going to argue but Christine was going to take some convincing. That would happen before the month was over. But first, she had someone far more important to talk to.
“If you’ll excuse me, the little Vicomte and I need to have a talk.” She quickly rose from the table, not taking offence when Raoul didn’t stand, and exited the dining room. As she walked away from the room and made her way towards the stairs, she could hear Christine pleading with Raoul to find a way to make their long-time friend stay. But it was no use. Mysty had made up her mind and it was long past time to go and she needed her independence again. Frederick had left her a nice sum after his death, despite the fact that their marriage had been so short. That had been in a bank gaining interest as she had excepted payment from the de Chagny’s for looking after Gustave and she had worked for the Opera Populaire before the fire. So, she wold be able to live quite nicely in America as her needs were always modest.
But it was Gustave that she would miss. She hated leaving him, fearing that in the end he’d see her departure as something he had done. He was the bright light in her universe and she loved him unconditionally seeing so much in him. She’d been his playmate, nurse, friend, and teacher over the course of his few years and she hated that attachment to come to an end. But it had to. Her heart had yet to fully heal after Erik and staying would only serve as a reminder.
She opened the little boy’s room, finding him asleep in a chair curled up with his favorite book. She walked over to him, and picked him up. He instantly turned to her and she sat down in the rocking chair. The news could wait til morning. For now, she was content to hold him and wish for a life she feared she would never have. A love that would never be hers.