Love Me, That's All I Ask of You (4/?)
Title: Love Me, That's All I Ask of You (4/?)
Author: mitchiemarie
Rating: PG-13 For most of the story
Pairing: Ryden, Rywalk, Joncer, slight Treckgabe
POV: 3rd, Ryan's
Summary: Phantom of the Opera Au. Ryan's Christine, Brendon's the Phantom and Jon is Raoul. Throw in Spencer as pretty little Meg Giry and this is what I got. Results may vary.
Disclaimer: I don't own. This isn't mine. Title from All I Ask of You. The lyrics at the end are from 'Angel of Music/The Mirror/Reprises/etc' both from the Phantom of the opera movie. <3 I don't profit from this. Don't sue. Please and thank you.
Beta: longerthanwedo and longerthanwedo <3 I love you both!
Author Notes: So I almost gave up on this. And then skipstoomuch was like "CONTINUE" and I'm like, okay :3 So here it is!
Previous chapters: Prologue! Chapter 1! Chapter 2! Chapter 3!
When Ryan woke up he found himself lying down on the soft, damp, sandy floor. His head was pounding and he felt like vomiting when he tried to sit up. Someone held a clear glass container that contained a thick dark red liquid to his lips. Ryan, too exhausted to put up a fight, obediently opened his mouth and drank the liquid. It tasted sweet, sweeter than any wine he’d ever tasted. He drank it all happily before trying to stand up again. His legs felt like gelatin and they gave out before he could. He fell back to the floor with a sigh. Someone chuckled above him. Ryan looked up through his lashes.
The room was too dark to make out more than an outline, but he still recognized the other. It was his angel! The one who’d come to rescue him, or so Ryan thought. He heard the faint gurgle of a waterfall and looked at his surroundings. He was in what looked to be like an underground cave. The air was moist and warm, smelling faintly of sulfur. Ryan felt a pair of arms wrap around his skinny frame and pull him up. His cheeks burned; he hated feeling so delicate. He didn’t want to seem weak, but he just wasn’t able to walk properly. Ryan’s guide kept a strong hand on his wrist, pulling him toward a destination that Ryan couldn’t see.
When the hand on his thin wrist finally let go, the room felt brighter to Ryan. He could hear the soft lapping of waves against a shore, and so he knew he must be in an underground spring. Still, Ryan had no clue how he had gotten there and no clue how he would get out. He planned to be as obedient as possible, so that his guardian had no reason to be angered and throw him out. Or even worse, harm him.
“Get in the boat.” A serious yet playful voice commanded. The hand re-wrapped itself around Ryan’s wrist and tugged him along. It guided him onto what Ryan decided was a gondola. The boat dipped to one side as Ryan made himself comfortable on the wooden bench. Someone else stepped in behind Ryan, making the boat rock the other way. At last, the boat settled and was pushed offshore. Ryan heard the paddle lapping at the waves and pushing him toward his destination. The air was tense and awkward. Ryan couldn’t stand not knowing who was in the boat with him. He had thought for sure that it was his angel, but he had been wrong before and he did not want to end up paying for this mistaking of identities with his life.
“Who are you?” Ryan whispered softly.
“I have many names. Most notably, ‘your angel’ or ‘The Phantom of the Opera’, but you can call me Brendon.”
Ryan’s jaw dropped. He had been right. It was his angel. He had a name. Brendon. Ryan’s mind refused to process the fact that he had called himself the phantom of the opera. Ryan didn’t believe in that nonsense. The phantom was just a myth. He wasn’t real and he certainly wasn’t Brendon. He couldn’t be.
Ryan could feel a smirk forming on Brendon’s face. “Yes, Ryan, the phantom of the opera is real, for I am him and he is me.”
‘How did he know what I was thinking?' Ryan thought, fearful.
“I know a lot of things, my dear Ryan.”
Ryan almost jumped out of the boat. Quietly, he tried to compose himself. He had no reason to fear this man if he was his angel, as he claimed to be.
“We are approaching the gates, Ryan. We cannot get past them without singing first. It is a method of ‘security’ and you will do well to sing. Or we could just wait outside for as long as you wish.” Brendon’s voice shook as if he was holding in laughter.
Ryan was frightened, but he obliged. He opened his mouth to sing. Words tumbled out as if they came from somewhere else. He sang a song he had never heard before and yet it was almost as if he had always known it. His mouth was possessed by a force that was not his own. He noticed that Brendon was also singing; their voices blending in a perfect harmony, Ryan’s voice going higher as Brendon’s went lower and vice versa. At last, Ryan’s voice hit a note so high that the doors Ryan hadn’t even known where there opened. They let in a stream of light and Ryan turned on instinct to look at Brendon.
His singing cut off and silence followed, but Ryan was too busy staring to notice. Brendon, his angel, the phantom, or whatever else he was, was beautiful. Ryan took in his jet-black hair, his creamy pale skin, and his full, pouty and luscious pink lips. He let his eyes roam over Brendon’s figure, which was curvy and delicious. Ryan’s eyes were drawn to the off-white half-mask that Brendon wore, obscuring about half of his face. His deep brown eyes were laughing behind the mask, and Ryan could see the huge, permanent, smirk on Brendon’s face as Brendon stepped out of the boat, which had now arrived ashore. He extended his hand toward Ryan, and like the gentleman that Brendon was --though Ryan wouldn’t have suspected from just looking at him-- he pulled Ryan safely off the gondola. They walked in silence until they reached a room.
They lights were shining brightly here, and Ryan had no clue where they had come from. Brendon guided Ryan to a chair that sat in the middle of the room. It was one of the most beautiful pieces of furniture that Ryan had ever laid eyes on. It was grandiose, from the tip of its intricate carving of angels in the backrest to the rich mahogany hue that its legs had. Ryan felt like royalty just sitting in it. Ryan stares at the rest of the room, decorated richly with tons of velvet drapes, separating what appears to be a bedroom of some sort. There were other objects as well, like a violin carved out of oak, and a small organ that Ryan fantasized of playing. It was made of a gold-toned wood and had the pipes were beautifully built with brass and copper and even iron. Brendon saw Ryan eyeing the instrument and smiled.
“There will be plenty of time for that later, for now we must work on your singing.” Brendon had picked up one of the papers from a gilded treasure box. Ryan wondered what was on the paper, but it must not have been what Brendon had been looking for because he shook his head in disgust, and threw the paper on top of the organ before rummaging through the box again.
“What are you looking for?” Ryan wondered out loud.
Brendon ignored his question and kept digging in the burnt yellow container. He must not have found what he was looking for because he grabbed the case and upturned it. All the papers floated to the floor as Brendon kept looking for something that probably wasn’t even there in the first place.
“Where is it? I know I put it somewhere, but where? Where could it be?” Brendon was speaking hurriedly to himself, frantically pacing through the room in search of a mysterious object.
“Can I help look for whatever it is?” Ryan wanted to help, especially if the material that was missing was so important that it had Brendon fumbling around for it.
‘Besides, isn’t it easier to find something if two people are looking for it?’ thought Ryan.
When Brendon just nodded absently, Ryan set to work looking for anything that might resemble something that Brendon would be looking for.
‘How can I look for something if I don’t even know what I’m looking for?’ Ryan mentally sighed but decided not to ask Brendon what precisely he was looking for.
Ryan followed Brendon around the room, digging through anything and everything. He also searched between shelves and found very interesting objects, like fresh roses and decorated envelopes. He also found a stamp that looked like a skull infused with a bat’s skeleton. He quickly retreated from that shelf. On the ledge beneath that one was a small container filled with a thick red substance. Ryan decided it to be ink for there was a long quill next to it, obviously sharpened for writing.
‘It could be blood,’ thought Ryan’s overactive brain. None the less, Ryan quickly moved away from that shelf and wandered around the space some more. He came to the room that was hidden by the wine-colored velvet drapes. Curious, Ryan chanced a glance in Brendon’s direction to make sure he wasn't watching and then snuck into the room after seeing the other male was still preoccupied with looking for the missing item. After pushing the drapes back in place to give it some light, Ryan was able to see clearly. He couldn’t believe what he saw. His jaw dropped open and his brain refused to process the setting in front of him. There was a huge replica of him. Life-sized and almost exactly like him. However, that wasn’t what made Ryan tremble and regret not running away. There was another figure next to it which looked exactly like Jon. Bullet holes were lining the walls in the back of it, and the Jon doll was covered in holes, some of them oozing a life-like blood substance.
Behind the replicas stood a lavender couch. On the couch were more rose petals, and barely lit candles. Suspicious-looking stains marred the couch's fabric. Ryan might have been a virgin, but he knew what those stains probably were. He felt sick to his stomach, and when he saw pictures of him changing from costume to costume, in various stages of undress, he lost it. He threw up right on the spot.
“I found it, Ryan! Where are you? Look!” Brendon yelled from somewhere behind the curtain.
Ryan wanted to escape. He heard Brendon open the curtain and come up behind him, and the urge grew to scream, to cry, to struggle against what Ryan knew was coming. He heard Brendon swallowing thickly and felt a hand reaching out to touch his shoulder. Ryan let out a shriek and fainted dead exactly where he was.
“Sing once again with me
Our strange duet
My power over you grows stronger yet
And though you turn from me to glance behind
The Phantom of the Opera is there
Inside your mind”
“The Phantom of the Opera”
Author: mitchiemarie
Rating: PG-13 For most of the story
Pairing: Ryden, Rywalk, Joncer, slight Treckgabe
POV: 3rd, Ryan's
Summary: Phantom of the Opera Au. Ryan's Christine, Brendon's the Phantom and Jon is Raoul. Throw in Spencer as pretty little Meg Giry and this is what I got. Results may vary.
Disclaimer: I don't own. This isn't mine. Title from All I Ask of You. The lyrics at the end are from 'Angel of Music/The Mirror/Reprises/etc' both from the Phantom of the opera movie. <3 I don't profit from this. Don't sue. Please and thank you.
Beta: longerthanwedo and longerthanwedo <3 I love you both!
Author Notes: So I almost gave up on this. And then skipstoomuch was like "CONTINUE" and I'm like, okay :3 So here it is!
Previous chapters: Prologue! Chapter 1! Chapter 2! Chapter 3!
When Ryan woke up he found himself lying down on the soft, damp, sandy floor. His head was pounding and he felt like vomiting when he tried to sit up. Someone held a clear glass container that contained a thick dark red liquid to his lips. Ryan, too exhausted to put up a fight, obediently opened his mouth and drank the liquid. It tasted sweet, sweeter than any wine he’d ever tasted. He drank it all happily before trying to stand up again. His legs felt like gelatin and they gave out before he could. He fell back to the floor with a sigh. Someone chuckled above him. Ryan looked up through his lashes.
The room was too dark to make out more than an outline, but he still recognized the other. It was his angel! The one who’d come to rescue him, or so Ryan thought. He heard the faint gurgle of a waterfall and looked at his surroundings. He was in what looked to be like an underground cave. The air was moist and warm, smelling faintly of sulfur. Ryan felt a pair of arms wrap around his skinny frame and pull him up. His cheeks burned; he hated feeling so delicate. He didn’t want to seem weak, but he just wasn’t able to walk properly. Ryan’s guide kept a strong hand on his wrist, pulling him toward a destination that Ryan couldn’t see.
When the hand on his thin wrist finally let go, the room felt brighter to Ryan. He could hear the soft lapping of waves against a shore, and so he knew he must be in an underground spring. Still, Ryan had no clue how he had gotten there and no clue how he would get out. He planned to be as obedient as possible, so that his guardian had no reason to be angered and throw him out. Or even worse, harm him.
“Get in the boat.” A serious yet playful voice commanded. The hand re-wrapped itself around Ryan’s wrist and tugged him along. It guided him onto what Ryan decided was a gondola. The boat dipped to one side as Ryan made himself comfortable on the wooden bench. Someone else stepped in behind Ryan, making the boat rock the other way. At last, the boat settled and was pushed offshore. Ryan heard the paddle lapping at the waves and pushing him toward his destination. The air was tense and awkward. Ryan couldn’t stand not knowing who was in the boat with him. He had thought for sure that it was his angel, but he had been wrong before and he did not want to end up paying for this mistaking of identities with his life.
“Who are you?” Ryan whispered softly.
“I have many names. Most notably, ‘your angel’ or ‘The Phantom of the Opera’, but you can call me Brendon.”
Ryan’s jaw dropped. He had been right. It was his angel. He had a name. Brendon. Ryan’s mind refused to process the fact that he had called himself the phantom of the opera. Ryan didn’t believe in that nonsense. The phantom was just a myth. He wasn’t real and he certainly wasn’t Brendon. He couldn’t be.
Ryan could feel a smirk forming on Brendon’s face. “Yes, Ryan, the phantom of the opera is real, for I am him and he is me.”
‘How did he know what I was thinking?' Ryan thought, fearful.
“I know a lot of things, my dear Ryan.”
Ryan almost jumped out of the boat. Quietly, he tried to compose himself. He had no reason to fear this man if he was his angel, as he claimed to be.
“We are approaching the gates, Ryan. We cannot get past them without singing first. It is a method of ‘security’ and you will do well to sing. Or we could just wait outside for as long as you wish.” Brendon’s voice shook as if he was holding in laughter.
Ryan was frightened, but he obliged. He opened his mouth to sing. Words tumbled out as if they came from somewhere else. He sang a song he had never heard before and yet it was almost as if he had always known it. His mouth was possessed by a force that was not his own. He noticed that Brendon was also singing; their voices blending in a perfect harmony, Ryan’s voice going higher as Brendon’s went lower and vice versa. At last, Ryan’s voice hit a note so high that the doors Ryan hadn’t even known where there opened. They let in a stream of light and Ryan turned on instinct to look at Brendon.
His singing cut off and silence followed, but Ryan was too busy staring to notice. Brendon, his angel, the phantom, or whatever else he was, was beautiful. Ryan took in his jet-black hair, his creamy pale skin, and his full, pouty and luscious pink lips. He let his eyes roam over Brendon’s figure, which was curvy and delicious. Ryan’s eyes were drawn to the off-white half-mask that Brendon wore, obscuring about half of his face. His deep brown eyes were laughing behind the mask, and Ryan could see the huge, permanent, smirk on Brendon’s face as Brendon stepped out of the boat, which had now arrived ashore. He extended his hand toward Ryan, and like the gentleman that Brendon was --though Ryan wouldn’t have suspected from just looking at him-- he pulled Ryan safely off the gondola. They walked in silence until they reached a room.
They lights were shining brightly here, and Ryan had no clue where they had come from. Brendon guided Ryan to a chair that sat in the middle of the room. It was one of the most beautiful pieces of furniture that Ryan had ever laid eyes on. It was grandiose, from the tip of its intricate carving of angels in the backrest to the rich mahogany hue that its legs had. Ryan felt like royalty just sitting in it. Ryan stares at the rest of the room, decorated richly with tons of velvet drapes, separating what appears to be a bedroom of some sort. There were other objects as well, like a violin carved out of oak, and a small organ that Ryan fantasized of playing. It was made of a gold-toned wood and had the pipes were beautifully built with brass and copper and even iron. Brendon saw Ryan eyeing the instrument and smiled.
“There will be plenty of time for that later, for now we must work on your singing.” Brendon had picked up one of the papers from a gilded treasure box. Ryan wondered what was on the paper, but it must not have been what Brendon had been looking for because he shook his head in disgust, and threw the paper on top of the organ before rummaging through the box again.
“What are you looking for?” Ryan wondered out loud.
Brendon ignored his question and kept digging in the burnt yellow container. He must not have found what he was looking for because he grabbed the case and upturned it. All the papers floated to the floor as Brendon kept looking for something that probably wasn’t even there in the first place.
“Where is it? I know I put it somewhere, but where? Where could it be?” Brendon was speaking hurriedly to himself, frantically pacing through the room in search of a mysterious object.
“Can I help look for whatever it is?” Ryan wanted to help, especially if the material that was missing was so important that it had Brendon fumbling around for it.
‘Besides, isn’t it easier to find something if two people are looking for it?’ thought Ryan.
When Brendon just nodded absently, Ryan set to work looking for anything that might resemble something that Brendon would be looking for.
‘How can I look for something if I don’t even know what I’m looking for?’ Ryan mentally sighed but decided not to ask Brendon what precisely he was looking for.
Ryan followed Brendon around the room, digging through anything and everything. He also searched between shelves and found very interesting objects, like fresh roses and decorated envelopes. He also found a stamp that looked like a skull infused with a bat’s skeleton. He quickly retreated from that shelf. On the ledge beneath that one was a small container filled with a thick red substance. Ryan decided it to be ink for there was a long quill next to it, obviously sharpened for writing.
‘It could be blood,’ thought Ryan’s overactive brain. None the less, Ryan quickly moved away from that shelf and wandered around the space some more. He came to the room that was hidden by the wine-colored velvet drapes. Curious, Ryan chanced a glance in Brendon’s direction to make sure he wasn't watching and then snuck into the room after seeing the other male was still preoccupied with looking for the missing item. After pushing the drapes back in place to give it some light, Ryan was able to see clearly. He couldn’t believe what he saw. His jaw dropped open and his brain refused to process the setting in front of him. There was a huge replica of him. Life-sized and almost exactly like him. However, that wasn’t what made Ryan tremble and regret not running away. There was another figure next to it which looked exactly like Jon. Bullet holes were lining the walls in the back of it, and the Jon doll was covered in holes, some of them oozing a life-like blood substance.
Behind the replicas stood a lavender couch. On the couch were more rose petals, and barely lit candles. Suspicious-looking stains marred the couch's fabric. Ryan might have been a virgin, but he knew what those stains probably were. He felt sick to his stomach, and when he saw pictures of him changing from costume to costume, in various stages of undress, he lost it. He threw up right on the spot.
“I found it, Ryan! Where are you? Look!” Brendon yelled from somewhere behind the curtain.
Ryan wanted to escape. He heard Brendon open the curtain and come up behind him, and the urge grew to scream, to cry, to struggle against what Ryan knew was coming. He heard Brendon swallowing thickly and felt a hand reaching out to touch his shoulder. Ryan let out a shriek and fainted dead exactly where he was.
“Sing once again with me
Our strange duet
My power over you grows stronger yet
And though you turn from me to glance behind
The Phantom of the Opera is there
Inside your mind”
“The Phantom of the Opera”