Raoul had not been to the Paris Opera House for quite some time. Ever since that one fateful night that changed his life for better and for worse. But here he was, attending the auction of old sets, props, costumes, and whatever else they could make money off of. The Opera House was, after all, looking to modernize to entice the younger generation to attend.

Raoul’s second wife wheels him closer to the stage that once held the great, late La Carlotta. He can see the stage in his mind’s eye. His vision had slowly been diminishing ever since the same night that kept him from coming to the Opera until now. Suddenly he hears his wife let out a small, light gasp and hesitates to move forward.

“What is it?” he asks, straining to see what he knows he cannot.

His wife places a hand on his shoulder and leans down some so that she does not have to raise her voice. He can smell the makeup she used and feel the netting of her hat. The style he knew so well on her. Her headwear, always tilted a bit to the right and always netted to cover her face. Her long, black hair, underneath, hanging loosely around her eyes and cheeks. He wished he could have seen her before his sight started to go. What a sight she would have been! Although, she would never compare to Christine.

“It is a skull – no! It is a mask! A mask in the shape of a skull like the one you’ve described before.” She pauses and Raoul tilts his head towards her mouth, motioning for her to continue. “The one that belonged to the Phantom. They are auctioning it off.”

The Phantom. The Phantom that had haunted this building, Christine, and Raoul himself. Raoul turned his gaze to the carpeted flooring covered in dust. He blinked away a tear. When he looked back up, he nodded in the direction of the stage, willing his wife to continue moving on.

 

Edmée, Raoul’s wife, did not want to stay a minute longer than needed in the Opera House. It held memories for her, as it did for him. She had never uttered a word to him about her time at the Opera House. She had sworn to never tell until one of them were on their deathbed.

Raoul had been invited to take a tour of the Opera house with the new owners who were planning to modernize it and make it useful again. He gladly accepted after Monsieur Dubois painted lovely pictures in his head of the grand staircase as it had been, was now, and would be when they were through renovations. Edmée just smiled politely, not wanting to be reminded of the past as how others knew it. She felt in the pit of her stomach that Monsieur Dubois and Monsieur Beaulieu had other reasons for engaging her husband. His time as the patron of the Opera House had been short and as an old, wealthy man with only two heirs, he could afford to help with the costs that they were planning.

The two new owners offered to wheel the Vicomte around. Edmée thanked them, and feigned exhaustion when they came to the dressing rooms used by the Prima Donnas of earlier days.

“I will stay here until your tour is through. I need to rest.” She made her way towards the dressing room as the two men wheeled her husband down the hallway, laughing and conversing as if they had known him forever.

The room looked as if no one had been in it until now. Edmée guessed that everyone was afraid of it after Christine Daaé came out with her narrative of the time she spent living at the Opera House as a dancer. This was, after all, the very first place the Phantom had met Christine in person. This is where Christine’s story took a turn for the worst, as she had put it. However, Edmée knew, that this was the room in which the Phantom had made the biggest mistake. This was the true point of no return. Most of all, this is where Raoul, Christine, and the Phantom’s lives were changed, but had it been for better or for worse?