#it has a million candles like in the phantom of the opera

[trans-yllz]

important to me that when wei wuxian moves into the jingshi it's not just like. lan wangji's house and also wei wuxian is there. there's hassss to be little touches of wei wuxians personality and style throughout, both because that's how a healthy relationship works and post res wei wuxian just being inserted into a place that he's not even allowed to make his home and he just lives there as if he is a guest makes me sad and doesn't appeal to me or really Scream healing and growth and comfort. but Also because the image of a pristine, all white and clean and orderly gusu lan sect house with just like. a skull on the wall is deliriously funny to me

[spaceorphan18]

99 Perspectives on a Single Love Story #40

A/N: The Story of Kurt and Blaine told through the eyes of everyone else but them. Each chapter is a different perspective in the ongoing tale of their love story.

I started something like this a while back - and now I’m taking the idea and really running with it. Each chapter is a ficlet of a different character at a different point in Kurt and Blaine’s life - documenting their love story. This starts in Audition, and each chapter will be paired with a different episode until reaching Dreams Come True.

[Ao3]

***

Mike Chang (Choke) 

Mike is on the stage, helping Blaine light what feels like a million little candles on the stage of the auditorium. How they haven’t set off the school’s sprinkler system, he isn’t sure, but he isn’t questioning the logic. He’s just there to help. He likes Kurt, and knows this NYADA audition is important, and loves Tina, who is helping him by playing Christine in this Phantom of the Opera set-up, but the real reason he’s there is because Blaine asked him to be. And if he’s being honest, he wants to make sure Blaine is doing alright. He and Blaine have become good friends over the past year, and it’s a bittersweet aspect of graduation -- knowing that he’s leaving people behind. Besides, Blaine has seemed moodier lately, and he wants to check in.

“There,” Mike says, lighting the final couple of candles they set up with the mechanical lighter they brought. “This has got to be a sufficient amount of candles. Though, I’m not sure I really get the point.”

“The point is ambience,” Blaine says matter-of-factly. “Kurt won’t even need a spotlight. The candles will illuminate his silhouette.”

Mike smiles kindly as Blaine goes into musical theater speak. He doesn’t always follow, but he does always listen. “Well, in any case. I’m sure Kurt is going to do great.”

“Kurt’s going to be spectacular,” Blaine says, using his hands to illustrate his point. “I was helping him sew his cape last night. It’s going to be brilliant.”

Mike bites his lip. They’ve been mostly quiet while they’ve worked, with most of Blaine’s commentary being a positive attribute of Kurt’s, and how wonderful he is. It makes him wonder. “So… are you guys okay then?”

“Yup,” Blaine says automatically. He doesn’t even look up as he’s so focused on moving one of the candelabras from one place to the next without blowing out the candles.

“And that drama last week was…”

“Nothing,” Blaine adds quickly.

Mike’s not sure he buys it, but it’s clear that Blaine doesn’t want to talk about it. “So, I was looking for tuxes for prom. Have you and Kurt found any good deals yet?”

Blaine gives a shrug. “We haven’t really talked about prom.”

“Well, Tina’s excited,” Mike continues. “I think it’ll be nice, you know, to have one last night where we all get to be just a group of high school friends.” In all honesty, he’s been thinking a lot about it. A lot about Tina, whom he loves, but about he’s more excited for his future. More excited about college and dance and where’s headed. And he’s not sure what that means. He’s not sure if Tina’s a part of that picture. So he’s made a deal with himself to at least enjoy what time they have left. “Next year we’ll all be going our own ways, and that’s scary. But exciting, too.”

Blaine freezes, taking a little too long to reply. “Totally.”

Mike’s a little hesitant about broaching the subject, but it’s been on his mind. “Have you and Kurt discussed long distance then? Cause I know Tina and I have been sort of dancing around that subject.”

“Oh, we have a plan,” Blaine says assuredly. “He goes to New York, and then I will go the following year. We’ll find a nice little apartment, and then get married, and we’ll have successful Broadway careers. And it’ll be fine. We’ll be fine.” The smile Blaine gives him doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “First, though, we have to make sure he has the most perfect audition.”

“Right,” Mike gives a slow nod.

There’s a lot he’d like to say but doesn’t. He can only be there for Blaine if he needs him, and he’s not sure Blaine would listen if he did try to give advice. Still, there’s something darker going on with Blaine that maybe he himself can’t see. Mike supposes the best he can do is be a good friend.

“Alright, I think we’re done.”

Mike takes a look around at the decorated stage. “Dude, this is a lot of candles.”

[tornrose24]

Thoughts on Cinema Sins ‘Everything wrong with Phantom of the Opera’ video.

Well at least ONE of the movies I was hoping Cinema Sins would cover happened. Some sins were expected, but I wasn’t expecting that the CS guy apparently saw the musical and has some knowledge about the history of PotO in general.

-”Several people died.” No not really unless not everyone got out of the burning opera house.

-Knew he’d make a Minions joke the second ‘illumination’ was mentioned.

-Aww, no sins off for the use of the Overture music? And its from the 80’s so of course it would sound the way it does.

-Ok, I admit showing the seats losing their dust and becoming brand new again as a ‘what if’ for movie theaters when quarantine was over was amusing.

-There’s a difference between good opera singing and annoying opera singing, which is why the ladies didn’t care for Carlotta’s singing.

-I wonder what a Silence of the Lambs opera would be like, speaking of CS getting his Hannibals mixed up.

-Raoul and Christine are supposed to be around the same age, so the fact that Patrick Wilson was like 13 years older than Emmy does make the ‘childhood sweethearts’ thing strange.

-Oh great, now CS made 2004!Raoul and Christine’s age gap as problematic as with her and Erik’s by pointing that out.

-Minnie Driver is a great Carlotta AND was a memorable part of this film.

-Oh Christ, 200,000 francs equals almost a million bucks in today’s world? Isn’t that a little too much to demand, Erik?

-Yeah Emmy doesn’t exactly HAVE the right voice for Christine when you compare her to other stage Christines (but at least she doesn’t have a weird vibrato like a certain someone).

-Christine doesn’t strike me as a super social person, and her father was a supporter of her musical talents so it makes sense that she wouldn’t be amongst her new fans and pay a visit to the chapel.

-I wonder if Ramin (aka one of the best Phantoms) found out that he was compared to Harry Styles in this video.

-Christine was supposed to keep her lessons a secret, so it makes sense that she’d confide in Meg after that.

-CS points out the unfortunate implications of Christine being a child when she was approached by Erik in this adaptation and I’m pretty sure CS is going to utterly destroy Webber for this someday.

-Actually yeah-where the hell did everyone go when there was so many people outside Christine’s dressing room a few moments ago?

-I do appreciate CS calling out Giry for just letting the Phantom stalk Christine and not stopping it sooner. (And it does feel strange that she’d let the girl she considers a surrogate daughter go through this).

-”Psychedelically laced smoke.” Every fan thinks that too.

-Also, the mirror is a trick mirror. Kind of obvious later.

-Also he needed her to think he was a divine tutor and didn’t show up until Raoul came into the picture (and because he wanted to move on to actually facing her like a real person).

-Well the horse WAS in the book, but him being part of Christine’s ‘possible hallucination’ makes sense too. Also the idea of her ridding the Phantom is amusing.

-No that WASN’T the sewers they were going through–the opera house literally had an underground lake and there’s a history behind it since the opera house this story is based on is real. 

-Erik building the statues makes more sense to me since the guy is meant to be hyper talented.Also note that this is where you can especially tell CS had experience with die hard fans of the book since he refers to the Phantom by his actual name for this sin in addition to saying WHAT they told him specifically.

-Actually CS has a good point about how the final note of the title song is shown off. They should draw more attention to Christine singing that note since its not only a display of her talent but a show of just how much influence/power Erik has over that. Instead we don’t see Emmy singing (and as anyone will tell you, she sang it as an E flat and not an actual E note).

-Yeah that scarf mask is weird.

-The smoke eye has been a mystery for AGES CS and no one can answer why.

-Love the description of singing “Music of the night” as to treat it like going to a glorious destination.

-Thanks for reminding me why the casting choices and changed up backstory makes 2004!Erik worse than he needs to be (God... what the hell were you thinking ALW and JS?!)

-If CS is familiar with the musical, I wonder if he’s aware that 2004!Erik was many a teenage girls’ crush with that in mind.

-Ah the return of the original ‘creepy doll that looks like a character’ that I almost forgot about. Except CS makes it more creepier by pointing out something about it that makes 2004!Erik more creepier than he needs to.

-CS keeps referring to actors by whatever they were in/a character they also played. And I’m just reminded how strange it was to see Emmy in Shameless (and she’s not enough to make me want to watch that show).

-CS forgot that the managers were supposed to be ass-kissing when he wondered why they were in the dressing room.

-If I remember correctly, a company performs one opera production at night and then practices/rehearses for the next one during the day. The one they perform happens for a certain amount of time before its time to switch out. But yeah, the film makes it look like this is all happening in 24 hours which shouldn’t be possible.

-Nothing for that guy mooning Carlotta? Ok then, moving on I suppose.

-I’ve seen this movie hundreds of times and I NEVER saw the boat in the woman’s wig until it was pointed out.

-Was he not paying attention? Erik kills Bouquet because the guy was trying to go after him. The original reason why he died in the book was for the same reason.

-I’m glad that CS has sympathy for Christine for all she went though in a supposed 24 hours. I’d crack under all that too.

-Surprised he didn’t sin the snot shot on the roof. (You know what I’m talking about).

-Yeah, so much for a secret engagement if you got the ring exposed.

-Not sure why CS finds the gold guys funny other than they are ‘just there.’

-I would love to see the party-goers go after Erik since they DO outnumber him as an alternate scene during that moment after ‘Masquerade.’

-No ‘This is Sparta’ jokes? Ok then, moving on I suppose.

-Christine’s dad is implied to be famous in this movie (explaining the mausoleum, but in the book he was poor so he shouldn’t have one). But that does raise questions as to why Christine seemingly has little money to her name in this version.

-Dude, seeing the gave fight scene as Nite Owl vs. Leonidas was something I couldn’t unsee for more than 10 years. But I bet the Snyder fans loved that joke. (Speaking of CS and superhero films WHEN WILL YOU STOP TEASING ME WITH ‘ANIMATED SUPERHERO FILMS’ THAT ARE JUST ANIMATED DC FILMS AND SHOW ME THE ONE I ACTUALLY WANT TO SEE?!)

-I would love to see a Home Alone version of PotO since CS pointed it out.

-Actually I would love to see the au where CS is a critic in the PotO world and just not give a shit if Erik threatened him.

-Yeah, Raoul making Christine the bait and endangering her IS messed up. As much of a dolt he is, novel!Raoul would NEVER have done that to her.

-Erik’s hair looks nice because its a wig, CS.

-Oh boy, the reveal of the bad make up. No surprise it got a sin. I loved that CS showed Lon Chaney’s version (and hopefully will get people to watch the original silent PotO) and was more impressed by it over what this movie had. I also love how blunt CS is in summing up the deformity.

-There wasn’t a fire when the mob went after the Phantom in the musical. But as history can prove, some mobs care more about their goals than their own safety.

-I think they wanted to squeeze in one more trap before the final confrontation and Raoul WAS trapped in a room that became filled with water in the book and silent film. Though I’m amazed CS didn’t notice the reverse direction the bubbles were going during that scene.

-I don’t know how to answer why Christine was just standing around and doing jack shit to help Raoul during the final confrontation.

-A recreation of one of the most famous kiss scenes in musical history and CS just sums it up as ‘yeah your first kiss always sucks.’

-I love the contrast of Super Mario music with shots of PotO for the bonus round.

-Holy crap, that WAS a lot of candles.

-Some of the alternate audios for the last bit were unfamiliar but that Bug’s Life scene for when Christine is heading towards the mirror is perfection.

-And of COURSE CS would use that one Mission Impossible scene.

Final verdict: Predictable at times, but pretty amusing for a PotO fan like myself. I do hope the next movie musical CS covers is ‘Little Shop of Horrors.’

[askthephantom]

Intro

It was truly a Parisian night: Alive with light. The Palais Garnier shone like a crown of opulence set atop the city. The building was like a scene stole from a baroque painting—just a tad bit too lavish to be real. Evidently, the tragedy that tarnished the opera house ten years ago no longer diminished it's splendor. The exterior looked polished like the president's silverware. Inside, the manager's were no longer afraid of hanging lavish, heavy chandeliers.

The memory of the public is short. Ten years is an eternity in a gossiper's time, and nobody wants to be caught caring about old news in Paris. Tonight, the strange story of the Phantom of the Opera was on nobody's lips, and only in one mind: Yours.

You cared little for the fashionable rumors of the week. You refused to forget.

The row of gilded masks decorating the outer walls of Palais Garnier grinned and grimaced at the passers-by. The antique symbols for comedy and tragedy. Only in theater, could such a neat divide be created—reality was often both.

Especially tonight. You navigated the crowds of merry opera-goers, off to see the show. The posters lining the streets announced the newest performance of Faust: A now 40-year old opera well on it's way to claiming the status of a classic.

These people were merely going to see a play. But you, you were about to become Faust yourself. A seeker of the forbidden knowledge. Tonight, you might meet Mephistopheles—the keeper of all answers.

You left behind the lights of Place de l'Opéra, choosing darkness instead. Finding an entrance to the catacombs was easier than expected. There were no guards. After all, who would ever want to go down there of their own free will?

The catacombs were dark and dreary. No surprise there. The damp air was heavy enough to weigh you down, like some demon-creature clinging onto your back. You could feel it’s misty, cold breath in yours ears.

The web of narrow, winding hallways spread out for miles. Those who didn't know the way would soon get lost, and find themselves added to the already tall piles of skeletons lining the walls. Just by lifting your torch and letting the light of it's flame run across your surroundings, you could glimpse at more skulls than a civilized human should see in a lifetime.

Luckily, you wouldn't get lost. You knew where to go. You had directions, after all, given to you by a man at rue de Rivoli. You peered at skillfully drawn map in the light of your torch. If the torch went out, that would be the end of it: Your adventure, and you.

Suddenly, you staggered in your step. There was a fresh, dull pain in your ankle. Nothing major. Just a bruise for tomorrow. You knew that if this had been a deliberate trap, set out by the one you were hoping to find, you'd be dying by now. Or in agony, at the very least.

You suspected your feet to have stumbled into a loose stone on the path. Upon closer examination, this "stone" turned out to be a human femur. It's owner unknown, lost somewhere in one of the many piles of skeletons.

Did it even matter who it used to belong to? Weren't these people now nothing but one, giant corpse? A terrible creature sleeping under Paris: A monster of a million femurs, with twice as many eyes, and more teeth than anyone could count.

A shiver ran up your spine.

This was a place for rats, not for humans to live. How could anyone survive down here? If the body didn't succumb to sickness in the damp air, then surely, the mind would be destroyed by the endless stare of empty eye sockets.

Yet, you bravely carried on. You did find some real traps on the way, plenty more dangerous than a femur jutting out of the ground. With the help of the map, and your friend from rue de Rivoli, you manage to avoid them all: The staircase of spikes, the circling hallway, even the mechanic scorpion. They were all less impressive contraptions than you knew the one you sought to be capable of. Perhaps he was getting old. Perhaps he wanted to be found.

You've begun to spot signs life, not only signs of death. Lit candles lined the corridors. There were chairs and paintings, tapestries and other decor. And music.

Oh God, the music.

You thought it beautiful at first.

Like a parasite, it crawled through your ear canals in order to reach your brain. It ate from your thoughts, from your soul. For if the devil made music, this is what it would sound like. The allure was undeniable, but so was the sin.

It was a tragedy that such a genius composition should remain hidden in the catacomb for only the rats to hear. Yet, it was right. The world was not ready. You were not ready.

The light of your torch flickered dangerously, as if caught in a draft. But that was impossible 20 feet below ground.

It'd been easier to think if he stopped playing that infernal melody.

No use resisting. The time for running had passed. You took an another step towards the source of an organ's mighty C major. The sound sent an echo dashing through the catacombs, just like your increasing heartbeat sent blood rushing into your veins.

You turned the corner, half expecting to find old Lucifer himself, playing the organ. Instead, you find nothing but a man, hunched over his instrument in a haze of inspiration.

Or perhaps it's a ghost, and not a man? Your friend at Rue de Rivoli assured you there were real supernatural phenomena involved. But here, in the darkness of the catacombs, with the grim hum of the organ filling your senses, you begin suspect that the Persian might've been wrong all.

The musician seemed unaware of your presence. It wasn't you he was playing for. This song was for someone else, someone too far away to hear. A serenade wasted.

Finally,the hellish tune seazed. The man lifted his long, pale fingers from the keys, releasing you from the spell.

He turned around to reveal a mask, the porcelain surface of which betrayed none of the emotions underneath. You are not surprised. The Persian warned you about this, too.

The ghost had no reason to expect guests, expect to be seen by anyone. Yet, he still wore the mask. Always. The mask was the real face—what lay underneath was a demon that he himself didn't recognize.

"..Why have you come? The show is over," he finally spoke. Unlike his face, his voice was unable of hiding the surprise he felt.

"Could it be that the daroga finally has finally sent someone to deliver "justice?" I assure you: I have no intention of going quietly. You'll have an easier time killing me than dragging me to the surface to be gawked at," he declared fiercely. Then, his voice grew softer. Uncertain. You finally noticed the awkwardness in it. He hadn't spoken a word in years—only sang.

"Or are you just here to... listen?"

You are Pandora—he is the box. Ask him, if you dare.

[insanityclause]

In the longest scheduled extension to date of the blackout of Broadway theaters prompted by the COVID-19 pandemic, trade organization the Broadway League announced Tuesday that the 41 top-tier New York theaters that went dark March 12 will remain that way at least through Sept. 6.

That's a full three months beyond the last extension, which bumped back the original April 12 end date for the closure to June 7. However, few pundits are expecting to see theaters open for business Sept. 8, the day after Labor Day, which falls on a Monday when most Broadway theaters remain dark. The situation seems likely to be reevaluated as that date approaches, with producers and theater owners adopting a wait-and-see policy in accordance with state guidelines and other safety and economic considerations.

"No one wants to get too far ahead of the governor on this," said one prominent producer who spoke off the record.

"While all Broadway shows would love to resume performances as soon as possible, we need to ensure the health and well-being of everyone who comes to the theater — behind the curtain and in front of it — before shows can return," Broadway League president Charlotte St. Martin said Tuesday in a statement. "The Broadway League's membership is working in cooperation with the theatrical unions, government officials and health experts to determine the safest ways to restart our industry. Throughout this challenging time, we have been in close communication with Gov. [Andrew] Cuomo's office and are grateful for his support and leadership as we work together to bring back this vital part of New York City's economy — and spirit."

The League's decision follows last week's announcement from the Society of London Theatres, extending the shutdown of live entertainment venues in the British capital through June 28. Like Broadway, that date appears to be a marker rather than a set plan for reopening. West End theaters have been canceling performances on a rolling basis, which seems certain to continue through the summer.

Broadway was the first sector in New York to impose a blanket suspension of operations on March 12, and most insiders expect it to be one of the last to come back.

In a sign that producers are approaching reopening with the utmost caution, the Broadway revival of Neil Simon's Plaza Suite, starring Matthew Broderick and Sarah Jessica Parker, announced Tuesday that it will be pushed back by a full year, with the limited engagement now scheduled for March 19-July 18, 2021, at the Hudson Theatre. Directed by Tony-winning actor John Benjamin Hickey, the comedy was originally scheduled to begin previews March 13, the day after the Broadway shutdown, and was one of the fastest-selling productions of the spring.

"We remain deeply committed to bringing Neil Simon's Plaza Suite to New York as promised and cannot wait to help welcome audiences back to our beloved Broadway," said Broderick and Parker in a statement. "Until then, everybody please stay safe."

While some have floated the idea of theaters reopening with socially distanced seating plans, few if any producers think that model would work given Broadway's exorbitant running costs. The more likely scenario involves temperature checks for theatergoers along with compulsory masks and gloves, no intermissions and deep-disinfectant cleaning of auditoriums between performances. But many questions remain, including how to provide adequate protection for actors in productions that don't allow for social distancing. 

The famous William Goldman quote about the film industry seems especially applicable to post-pandemic Broadway: "Nobody knows anything." But the smart money seems to point to an early-2021 reopening, with anecdotal estimates ranging from January through March.

In what could turn out to be a harbinger of things to come for many of the country's stages, Minneapolis' Guthrie Theater, one of America's largest and most respected nonprofits, last week took the bold step of announcing that operations will resume with a compressed mini-season of just three productions running March-August 2021. That represents a massive reduction from the originally scheduled 11 shows, with a budget slashed from $31 million to $12.6 million. Those drastic measures make necessary allowances for the time required to build and rehearse productions, underscoring the complicated logistics for the theater sector of emerging from lockdown.

A Shugoll Research industry survey this month indicated that only 41 percent of New York theatergoers say they are likely to return when theaters resume activity, while almost 1 in 5 people, or 17 percent, say they are very unlikely. More than half those polled, or 58 percent, said they will wait at least a few months before attending a show.

When theaters went dark, the 2019-20 season was just a little beyond the midway point, with another 16 productions scheduled to open before the April 23 cutoff for 2020 Tony Awards consideration. An announcement was made March 25 that due to the coronavirus shutdown, the Tonys would be postponed to a later date to be set once Broadway resumes activity.

Two Broadway shows that had begun previews when the lights went out — Martin McDonagh's Hangmen and a revival of Edward Albee's Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? — have already announced they will not reopen after the suspension ends. Other shows from nonprofit producers that were about to begin performances have been pushed back to next season, including Roundabout's Birthday Candles and Caroline, or Change; Lincoln Center Theater's Flying Over Sunset; and Manhattan Theatre Club's How I Learned to Drive.

With Plaza Suite also now postponed, that still leaves nine incoming productions in limbo, some of which had minimal advance sales and muted buzz at the time of the shutdown, even less so now. How many of those will forge ahead with opening plans remains to be seen. Uncertainty also hangs over established shows that had started to see a slight decline in business after the initial boom period — Mean Girls, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child and even Disney's Frozen among them.

Many are quietly wondering about the wisdom of coming back to half-empty houses even for long-running behemoths like The Phantom of the Opera, which relies heavily on tourism for the majority of its traffic. Even the most optimistic estimates don't anticipate the return of tourists to New York in sizable numbers before summer 2021 at the earliest.

If most of Broadway's 41 houses do reopen, the likelihood of swift financial casualties and prompt closings could mean many prime venues will sit vacant for the first time since the slump of the 1980s and early '90s. The steady growth since then, which propelled Broadway to a record $1.8 billion in grosses last season with attendance of 15 million, now inevitably seems headed for a major reset. Some industryites are asking whether this will mean renegotiating ticketing price scales, landlord percentages and union rates to bring down the prohibitive costs that put Broadway off limits to many entertainment consumers.

Losses to the sector are difficult to calculate, especially with no certainty about a reopening date, but 2019 box office grosses for mid-March through Labor Day totaled $915 million. Industry analysts generally estimate that factoring in the losses to theater-district businesses fed by the Broadway economy — hotels, restaurants, bars, parking garages, taxis and car services — means multiplying total ticket sales by three. That would peg the overall financial blow for the six-month period at a staggering $2.7 billion. At any rate, the impact on one of New York City's principal economic drivers and job pipelines will be devastating, with the fallout sure to be felt for years to come.

As for the Tony Awards, there are two principal schools of thought about which way to go.

Some are lobbying to put a cap on the partial season and present awards for the shows that opened before March 12. This, however, would handicap recent openings like West Side Story and Girl From the North Country given that not all of the Tony Nominating Committee will have seen them and certainly not the majority of voters. Shows that opened early in the season, on the other hand, like Moulin Rouge! and the limited-engagement, Tom Hiddleston-led revival of Harold Pinter's Betrayal, would have an advantage.

The alternate plan is to combine the truncated partial 2019-20 season with any shows that open between the resumption of Broadway operations and the late-April cutoff for 2021 Tony consideration, presenting the double awards at a ceremony in June next year. That option also has clear disadvantages for some, however, given that voters have notoriously short memories and shows like Betrayal or The Inheritance that have long closed will be ancient history by then.

Whichever route the Tonys choose to go, there are sure to be disgruntled players. But even a partial ceremony of outstanding Broadway artistry right now could serve as a much-needed morale booster to a sector facing unprecedented challenges.

[tophatsnap]

Nothing But a Man Ch 16

Phanty belongs to Leroux and Lloyd Webber

Christine

When I turned back he was gone. I smiled to myself and brought my fingers up to trace my lips... as if we had kissed. I could still feel his breath on my face; warm and inviting... tantalising. I could have kissed him. I could have. But I wanted him to kiss me. I wanted him to have the confidence and assertion; I wanted him to be in control. He was always in control... except when we were intimate. I wanted to test him... and then when he told me that he couldn’t kiss me I could not help but play with him a little. Truthfully I could not see the harm in sharing one kiss with our stolen moment but he was doing everything he could to resist such an urge. I enjoyed the fact that I had power over him in some way; enjoyed how I was able to make him feel. He could do the same to me... when he wanted.

When Meg approached I was still locked in that moment with Erik. I knew that he would keep to his promise and see me that very night and so I was not worried when he suddenly disappeared. In truth I was surprised to see him at all given how worried he was. As soon as he was gone I longed for his presence. I had forgotten where I was; forgotten that I was in the middle of an opera performance. Perhaps this was what he was talking about when he spoke of losing himself...

And we had not even kissed...

How I longed to lose myself with him... Lose myself in a place where there were no time constraints, no danger... Nobody cared who or where we were... we could just be...

But something like that could not happen...

“Christine... what are you doing here? We must get changed for the next...”

Meg looked at me, her brows knitted together quizzically.

“What are you doing?” She repeated. I realised that I was simply facing a wall... not particularly looking at anything. It must have seemed quite strange indeed.

“I... I was...”

Meg’s eyes widened excitedly as the realisation dawned on her.

“You were with him weren’t you?”

“What..? Who?”

“Christine... I have not forgotten what you told me. You went missing last night too. Maman was very worried about you. As was I. And... when I saw you this morning you seemed different; you seemed like your old self again. I didn’t want to say anything... I thought it may have been Raoul?”

“Raoul? No!”

“I know.” She smiled. “This was how you were acting before... when you told me that...” She cast her eyes down and moved closer to me. “Do you think it wise though? To be spending time with him when... he did what you said he did?”

“He isn’t a bad person, Meg. He would never hurt me...”

Meg smiled.

“Come on, we need to get changed! Tell me on the way!”

“I’m sorry Meg.” I began as she took my arm in hers and we hurried toward the change rooms. “I had meant to tell you everything but it all resolved itself last night... and it happened so fast...”

“That’s alright! Does this mean that he will be escorting you to the ball?”

The ball. Of course... the Masquerade Ball. Was it that time of year already?

“Well... I...” Of course he could not escort me to the ball. What was Meg thinking? He was the Opera Ghost... but of course... it was a Masquerade. If there was any event he could attend it would be this one. It would be lovely. I did not want to be escorted by anyone else... It was just a matter of asking him. No doubt he knew it was approaching; he knew all that transpired beneath his roof. But then... why had he not asked me? My stomach sank. Perhaps now that he had my affections... he did not want them?

“I... I would like to but... I don’t know that it would be wise.”

“Oh, why not? It is a Bal Masque, is it not? He could be disguised... It is said that he wears a mask anyway... is this true?”

“Yes... its true but...”

But Raoul has already seen it.

I could think of a million and one reasons not to mention the ball to Erik... but in spite of those protestations I found myself wanting to ask him; wanting to go with him... wanting to appear at the top of the grand escalier on his arm. My selfishness outweighed my good sense.

I would ask him...

“Tell me what he is like! I want to know everything!” She continued excitedly, pulling me closer as we rushed through the wings of the stage; past bewildered stage hands and miscellaneous props.

“Ah... where do I start?” I smiled. Erik was such a complex person. He had so many aspects to him... and many more I was yet to learn. He was so gentle and chivalrous, attentive and caring... and I could not help but blush when I thought of the physical attributes I should not have seen... His chest... His arms... Living in a theatre had made me somewhat impervious to shock when it came to the male anatomy but this was different... They had been more than pleasing to the eye and the fact that I should not have seen them made it all the more intriguing. Then I thought of his face... what I could see of it I thought to be uncommonly handsome... but what of the other half? What of the mask that he would not speak of?

I would find out soon enough...

“Well Christine?” Meg pressed. It was then that I realised I had not been speaking aloud; merely lost in my own thoughts once more. How could I voice what had just gone through my head? I felt my cheeks flush with warmth at the mere thought of it.

“Sorry...” I stammered. “Well... he...”

“Girls!” I turned to the source of the voice to see Madame Giry rushing towards us, skirt in hand and a stern look on her face. “What are you two doing? You must change!”

Erik

That night I waited until it was quite late to see Christine. I hadn’t told her when to expect me but even so I felt the need to reprimand myself for not making solid plans with her. It seemed terribly presumptuous and informal of me simply to call on her when I saw fit but it was the way it had to be... at least for a while and I think that she understood that. After our rendezvous in the wings of the stage I made my way back down to my home; always in the shadows. Ever vigilant... ever invisible; ever the Phantom. This time called for it more than ever. Ordinarily I would not mind so much... but if I were caught now everything I had with Christine would be taken from me. I knew very well that if caught I would be hanged. There was little chance of a trial for someone like me... and I was not ready to meet my end at the gallows. Not yet. I had so much more living to do; so much more to experience with her before I met my end.

On my way down I caught sight of Raoul speaking with the gendarmerie. He was determined...

But he would never find what he was looking for.

Once in my home I sat down at my organ as I usually did and began to tinker with the keys absentmindedly as I thought of a way to see her. I gazed down at the book I had given her; sitting on my writing desk ready for her.

Scandinavian Folk Lore

I smiled as I remembered her face upon seeing the book. Her father had brought her so much happiness...

Her father...

The chapel...

That was it. Christine always visited the chapel after dinner. I would have to be careful as always but no one else usually visited the chapel save for four or five of the chorus girls and they were already frightened of me... or at least the idea of me; something that always proved useful.

The hours seemed to stretch on. How had spent years in solitude with nothing but my own company and interests to occupy myself? I had created for myself a world of magic and art and music... the perfect world that simply did not exist above. I had done it... and I was doing it. The very idea of it still filled me with comfort and joy... only now I wished for someone else to accompany me on my island of dreams. Only one other person... Now all I seemed to do was fill the time between seeing Christine and if I could spend a few hours without completely and utterly dwelling on the idea of her, the afternoon was a success.

What had I become?

With all of my hobbies I already had more than enough activities to fill my time... it was just...

Her...

Finally it was time to head to the chapel. After checking myself in the mirror once, albeit reluctantly I made my way up...

The hallways leading to chapel were dark as they always were, but it was Winter and the sun had long but set. The only light visible was provided by the single candle, presumably lit by Christine and sitting just above a picture of her father. And just as I had hoped, sitting in front of the candle was Christine... the flame licked at her skin gently and for a few moments I was transfixed... unable to speak.

I cleared my throat.

“Good evening, Mademoiselle...” I spoke softly.

She spun around, eyes wide. Of course, she could not see in the darkness as I could. How selfish of me.

“It is me.” I said with a smirk, thankfully not visible to her.

“I know.” She said, smiling and turning around.

“And how is that?” I asked, walking closer to her.

“I’ve been hearing your voice for a long time now, Erik.”

I smiled. Of course she had...

“You still come here every night...” I said.

“Yes. It is the only place I know where to find him...” She replied wistfully. “And... now that I know that... he didn’t send me an angel... I find myself drifting away from him.”

“I’m so sorry, Christine.”

“I know.” She said. “You don’t have to keep saying it... Perhaps it was time to grow up anyway.”

I knelt down next to her in the darkness.

“Never let anyone convince you that you have to do anything you don’t want to... You don’t have to grow up just because people say that you must. I had to grow up before my time and... I never had a real childhood.” I stopped myself before I digressed too much. “What I mean is... you can be whoever you want to be. It does not matter to me.”

She touched my face gently. Evidently now that I was kneeling down next to her she was able to see me as clearly as I could see her.

“Thank you.” She said softly. “But... it isn’t about other people. I think that... you did come to me for a reason. Perhaps you came to me and... revealed yourself to me because somehow I needed you to. It was time to let him go...” A tear slid down her porcelain face. “I wish to go to the cemetery soon... to visit him; say my goodbyes. Will you... come with me?”

“Of course, Mon Ange. Whatever you need from me I will give to you.” I was honoured that she would ask me at all given everything.

Christine looked back to her father’s picture.

“I think that he would have liked you... he was a musician, you know.”

“Yes...” I said, still staring at her. I smiled and held her hand in my own. “You told me.”

“Yes...” She said, hardly a response to me... more to herself. It seemed that she was entranced by her father; by the flickering light above his picture. I however was entranced by her. I had never been religious. Lighting candles and praying to the night sky seemed trivial in light of the life I had lived...

But she was my redemption. In my eyes, Christine was everything good in the world and she had saved me in more ways than one.

“Shall we go?” I offered softly. She nodded silently. I stood up and dusted my pants before offering her my hand.

As soon as we had exited the chapel I felt her tug me backward.

“What is it?” Immediately I feared she had seen or heard something...

She pulled me closer with a smile.

“You owe me a kiss.” She cooed. Regretfully I let out a nervous laugh at the word but before I could condemn myself for such a juvenile action she had pulled my face down towards hers and captured my lips with her own. Immediately I wrapped my arms around her and closed my eyes. God, I loved her. How I had waited to experience such a thing once more. But it was still not safe. It would have to wait until my home...

“Stop...” I mumbled against her mouth.

“Why...” She replied.

“Not here.” I pulled away but I made no effort to stop. I don’t think I would have had it not been for the voices heard behind us; only drunken chorus members but people all the same. She pulled away with a quiet laugh and I found myself laughing along. I felt so silly... but I was enjoying it. My heart swelled with giddy happiness as I rushed her away as if it were all a childish game of hide and seek. At that moment were just like any of the other couples seen enjoying each other in the corners of the Opera corridors...

Weren’t we?

Once down in my home I removed my cape and helped her out of the boat.

“Have you eaten?” I offered. I could not believe how relaxed I felt; not myself at all. I felt... normal. “I could prepare you something? I haven’t had the chance to purchase much but I have some bread if you are hungry.”

“I’m fine.” She smiled. “Thank you.” She looked around nervously. Why was she quiet? Had I done something wrong between the chapel and now? Had she changed her mind?

“What’s wrong?” I questioned, slightly crestfallen. “Have you... changed your mind about tonight?”

“No, no! Not at all!”

“We... can do another night. If you’d like.” It would disappoint me greatly if she agreed but I had to give her the option. It was my home... but I wanted her to feel as comfortable as if it were hers. Perhaps one day it would be?

“No... really.” She walked up to me and wrapped her arms around my neck. “It isn’t that at all.” It couldn’t be anything terrible if she was still willing to touch me. I relaxed slightly and placed my hands on her waist.

“What is it, Mon Ange?” I asked, staring down at her. She was so beautiful...

“Well... I wish to ask something of you... only I don’t know quite how to ask it.” Was she blushing?

“You know that I am powerless before your requests, Christine. What is it that you want of me? It shall be yours.”

“Alright...” She said hesitantly. I could tell that she was struggling with whatever she needed to ask me and it only served to make me more curious. “Are you free this Saturday evening?”

At this I laughed audibly.

“No, I am afraid not. I am afraid I have already committed myself to a number of other engagements.”

She stared at me then, apparently not quite seeing my humour. I laughed again.

“Of course I am free.” I joked. At that she seemed to smile. Then it occurred to me. This Saturday was New Years Eve; The Masquerade Ball. She was going to ask me to take her to the Masquerade Ball. How was I to tell her that I was already attending? During the endlessly torturous weeks without Christine I had begun writing my Opera. Originally I had planned to coerce the company to perform said Opera with Christine as the lead role. The Opera was to be an ode to Christine and I. It expressed how I felt about her; everything I could not say... I had even played with the idea of casting myself as the leading male; something that could never be possible. At the Ball I would present the work to the managers along with instructions as to how it would play out. Originally I had formulated this plan in the depths of despair and I will admit that I was not of sound mind at the time. Even so the idea to perform it had never left me; Christine would still be cast in the leading role and it would still serve to express to Christine all that I felt for her. But my plan could not possibly work with Christine in my presence. I had official Opera Ghost business to attend to and I needed to keep that part of my life separate to her...

I treasured the sentiment, of course... no one had ever bestowed on me such a gift but I had to refuse.

“Well... I was wondering whether you might...” She bit her lip. “...whether you would consider... escorting me to the Bal Masque?”

Immediately after speaking she looked up at me; desperate for an answer, desperate for anything that would ease the awkward atmosphere she felt she had created. It was awkward, but it had nothing to do with her.

I sighed and slowly pulled her hands down from my neck.

“Christine...”

“You don’t wish to go?”

“No it... It isn’t that...”

“It is that. I know... what you might be thinking.” She took my hand in hers. “...but... it’s a Masquerade! You... won’t be seen. For once we can be out together and no one will care.”

“Out? What do you mean by that?” I pulled my hand from hers. “I know that this is not ideal for courting Christine but it’s all I have. If you wish to be out with someone then perhaps you should speak to your boy.” She looked at me icily and immediately I regretted my words.

“That was uncalled for.” She said plainly.

“I know. I know. It’s just that I know that this isn’t good enough for you.” I waved my hand in gesture to my home. “That I am not good enough for you and sometimes when you say things it really makes me think that you... want to change your mind. I constantly have doubts...”

“I know.” She said. She took my hand again. “I know that you want to come with me.”

“I want nothing more.”

“Then just come!”

“I cannot!”

“Why?” She pressed, pulling at my hand like a petulant child.

“I... have Opera Ghost business to attend to.” I knew that she wouldn’t want to hear that but it was the truth.

“...What does that mean?” She eyed me suspiciously.

“I have to present the managers with something to perform; an Opera.” I pointed to the Organ. “The one you saw me composing when you were last here. The company is to perform it and I have certain instructions I wish to deliver with it. I have to reveal myself that night. I have to stand before the managers for the first time... before everyone for the first time and if they remember seeing you with me... it could be a great danger to both of us. I’m sorry, Christine. I really am.”

“Well... why is this Opera so important? Is it more important than me?”

“Nothing is more important than you but... this Opera is important to me. And I have been gone too long, and so it has to be done in person. I have to know that they still fear me.”

“Fear you? Why do they have to fear you?”

“It is the only way, Christine.” Why didn’t she understand? The world had to fear me. When I was a child I swore that I would feel no fear; that I would inflict it on others. It was how I had gotten by... Kindness did not get me things; fear did.

“The only way for what? Why can’t you just leave the Opera Ghost behind, Erik? It isn’t who you are anymore.”

“It is, though!” Christine jumped. I hadn’t meant to raise my voice. The last thing I wanted to do was frighten her... “I’m sorry.” I pulled her into an embrace. “It... has to be sometimes. As long as I am here... it has to be.”

She took a deep breath.

“Well... perhaps... we could leave together? After your Opera is performed?” What could she possibly mean?

“...Leave?”

“Yes...” She said, looking up at me. “We could... leave together.” Where would we go? I hadn’t left the Opera in years.

“You would... do that for me?” I asked sincerely.

“I would do that with you.” She said, holding me tightly. “Please, Erik. Escort me to the Ball? I would want no one else.”

“I just don’t see how it could work.” She looked down and nodded.

But I knew that she hadn’t given up... I had at least delayed the conversation and I wanted to celebrate this small triumph but I could see another question on her lips. I knew what this one would be and while I was dreading it... I had told her that I would address it and I was nothing if not a man of my word.

“So... earlier today... you said that you would...”

“You wish to know about the mask.” I said sternly.

“I... I’m sorry, it’s just that you said...”

“I know. I’m not angry. You wish to know. Understandably so... Come. Let us sit down. Would you like some wine?” I led her over to the piano bench.

“...Just a glass.” She answered apprehensively.

“Alright. One moment.” I stood up and took a deep breath. When I returned she would ask me. When I returned I would have to explain myself. I loosened my cravat; suddenly finding my surroundings to be increasingly stuffy. “I trust that red is alright?” I called.

“Whatever you suggest.” She said faintly. “I told you, I don’t often drink wine.”

I returned with a new bottle and two glasses. After taking a sip and another deep breath I sat down next to her on my bench and spoke.

“Alright. Ask me.”

She looked at me; a shocked expression upon her face. Almost as if she hadn’t expected me to address it so quickly.

“I... alright.” I saw that she was taking a deep breath herself. What did she have to  e nervous about?

“It is alright, Christine.” I reassured her. “Just ask me.” She looked down before speaking.

“Why do you wear the mask?”

“I wear it because I... I wish to hide myself.” I answered craftily.

“But why?” Who was I trying to fool? I had to tell her. I took another sip of wine.

“I wear a mask because... I... was born with a deformity.” I answered simply.

I was surprised when she nodded in understanding.

“And so you feel the need to wear something to cover it?”

I laughed cynically.

“I don’t feel any need. It is world who sees the need to hide my ugliness. The world does not want to see, Christine. Please do not ask me to divulge anything else just yet... I am not ready to revisit my past.”

“I wish that you would show me...” She whispered.

“I thought that you would ask me that. Please know that I would give you anything you asked for. Anything else...”

“You will not show me.”

“Please try to understand.” I began. “It is hard for me. In the past I have been... made to show my face... and the reactions were always the same...”

“Made?”

“That is all I will say on that.”

“Erik, I don’t want to ask something of you that you don’t feel comfortable giving. But... please don’t keep this from me. I want us to start anew; to tell one another everything. To feel completely comfortable in the presence of one another...”

“If that is what you seek, Christine. I may never make you happy. I have secrets that... I have not divulged to anyone and truthfully I don’t know that I ever will. I do not mean to hurt you by saying this and please know that I would never keep something from you that would harm you; it is quite the opposite.” Christine listened attentively. “I keep things from you because some things should not be heard; repeated, relived. It would kill me to know that... saying this would prevent you from seeing me any further but you need to know this now. I will never be... normal. I will never be perfect. I am broken and as much as you redeem me just by being the wondrous person you are... I will always be broken because of the life I have lived.” She looked at me and spoke the three words that threatened to break me every time I heard them.

“I love you.” She said. She reached up and touched the left side of my face. I held her hand and leant into it.

“God, I love you.” I said; my voice quavering with emotion. I loved her for who she was... and I loved her for loving me.

“Let me... try to fix you.” She said. Those words almost made it seem possible. With that she reached up with both hands and ever so slowly removed my mask...

I did not stop her; I did not even protest. I was frozen where I was; in awe at her healing words; her healing hands. It was almost as if with her I was handsome. Perhaps there was no deformity at all? Perhaps it had all been a terrible nightmare and this was my real life?

My eyes were closed...

They did not open until I felt her small, soft hands touching the right side of my face; the side that had not been touched by another living soul; the side that predetermined my life before I had taken my first breath, the side that had made me who I was. To my utter surprise her fingers were exploring the contours of my horrid face; caressing the planes, the irregularities that made me so... unique...

...And it felt glorious.

I searched her face for a reaction; searched her eyes for fear, disgust... her eyes had filled with tears but she was smiling. Perhaps it was pity but I did not care.

She was smiling.

She was not laughing.

She was not screaming.

She was not running.

She was smiling.

This gave me the confidence I needed to reveal everything... Slowly I reached up and pulled the black wig from atop my head. It fell to the ground. Christine simply watched as my defences crumbled around me. Her expression did not change. She reached up and stroked my hair; copper in hue, not black as she had thought... as I had almost come to believe.

“You... are beautiful.” She said softly.

At these words I choked a sob. Pathetic... but I did not have a care. I brought my hand to her face; un-gloved I was permitted to revel in her warmth as she had presumably revelled in mine. A tear escaped my eye and I had to choke back another sob when she reached up to wipe it.

“Kiss me, Erik.” She repeated. Unlike when she had said it to me, hidden in the wings of the stage I needed no coercion. Those words were all I needed. I captured her mouth hungrily. Our kiss deepened as I pulled her onto my lap. The pipe organ behind me sounded loudly as I was pushed onto the keys. We both jumped slightly and laughed at ourselves before continuing the kiss. Deciding that neither of us cared to experience such a surprise again I whisked her up and carried her to her bedroom. I lay her down on the bed as I had done on her first night with me. Only this time she captured my mouth once more and pulled me down onto the bed. Again we laughed as I fell quite clumsily on top of her.

She pushed me onto my back and I did not care to protest. Her deft fingers removed my cravat and within seconds I felt something unlike anything I had ever experienced; her perfect lips placing kisses on my neck. She began just behind my ear. Her warm breath tickled the skin there and I felt her smile against me as I suppressed a chuckle. It was maddeningly pleasurable. She pushed my jacket off my shoulders as her lips moved down my neck. I could not move. I wanted to kiss her in return; bestow the same pleasure on her but I could not... I felt her hands working at my waistcoat as her lips reached my collarbone.

Soon, my waistcoat had met the same fate as my jacket; discarded on the floor of my home and soon my shirt would meet the same end. In truth, I did not care. Never in my life had I had such little regard for my own clothing...

[thephantomofthe-internet]

Q&A Tag

I can’t remember if I’ve done this one before, but I was tagged by @super-strange-sons, thanks dearie <3, and so I thought I’d do it again

Rules: answer 30 questions and tag 20 people you want to know better

1. Nickname: Maddie or Mads

2. Gender: Female

3. Sign: Virgo

4. Height: 5′5

5. What time is it?: 12:00 am

6. Fav band(s): Fleetwood Mac, The Sapphires, Frankie Valley and the Four Seasons, The Crystals, The Beatles, Queen, the Mamas and the Papas, ect.

7. Fav solo artist(s): Whitney Houston, Kesha, Madonna, Stevie Nicks, Annie Lennox, Bonnie Tyler, Cyndi Lauper, Britney Spears, Michael Jackson, ect.

8. Song that’s stuck in my head?: Monday Monday by the Mamas and the Papas

9. Last Movie I saw: I just rewatched Sixteen Candles

10. Last show I watched: A Series of Unfortunate Events

11. When did I create my blog?: sometime in 2013 or 2014, I’ve been here for awhile

12. What do I post? pretty okay Stranger Things fanfiction and posts, as well as other stuff that has nothing to do with ST and confuses my audience

13. Last thing I googled: Chunked Coconut Walmart 

14. Do I have any other blogs: Nope

15. Do I get asks much? Nope, not really, I’d love more though

16.  Why did I choose my URL?: I used to love the musical The Phantom of the Opera and I thought this sounded cool, seeing as how I’m always the ghost in group chats

17. Following: 249

18. Followers: 667

19. Average hours of sleep: 8-10

20. Lucky number: 3, 7, and 30

21. Instruments: Voice

22. What am I wearing: ancient blue pj shorts and a big tee shirt from the musical I was in last year

23. Dream job: Author or actress

24. Dream Trip: Greece or Ireland

25. Nationality: Canadian

26. Fav Song: UGH SO MANY currently tho it’s Get into the Groove by Madonna

27. Last book I read: Northhanger Abbey by Jane Austen

28. Currently Reading: the Disaster Artist by Greg Sestero and Find Her by Lisa Gardney, and like a million fics

29. Top three fictional universes I wanna join: Harry Potter, the MCU, and Stranger Things

I Tag: @denimjacketkisses @hotstuffhargrove @harringtonwife and @strangerstuffandthingsimagines

[redheadedkb]

Katie Babs - It’s Over Now. Babblings About Books, and More is...

By the summer of 2008, I had found a voice online, or rather I should say I had become more vocal. Not only was I co-blogging on another blog, but I was reviewing 2-3 books a week on other sites, including using a somewhat new social media platform called Twitter (I had been on Twitter since the beginning), and blogging and posting on a very popular social site that was known as Myspace (can you believe My space was once more popular than Facebook?).

One particular person who once had their own blog, and who became the first blogger I really connected with, followed me on Myspace. She would read my “ramblings”, or as I call them “babblings”, and enjoyed them. She recommended I start my own blog. I never thought I would have my own blog or a platform because I was more comfortable leaving comments on other blogs. My worry was not having anything to say or I would end up speaking to an empty space, as in I would perform on a stage and no one is sitting in the audience to watch me perform. But I did love the romance blogging community where there were people like me who enjoyed talking about romance novels. Outside the online blogging world, or message boards, I didn’t have anyone to talk to about the books I had read, especially romance novels. So in September 2008 I started Babblings about Books, and More (originally on Blogspot and then moved to Wordpress).

Since September 2008, around 5 million people stopped by to read what I have said from book and movie reviews, musing both silly and serious, and welcoming my honest opinions and ideas. Because of my blog I found the voice I never thought I had. I have interacted with so many people, and met some off line. To this day I still talk with some bloggers and those who have commented on my blog, and others over the years. We still share opinions and debate without any judgment. Talking to these people make my day much brighter, and I hope the same goes for them.

One of the biggest honors I had was a blogger, who has become a rock star blogger in the romance online world tell me they started their own blog because of mine. They thought of me as their blogging mentor, a.k.a their blogging mommy (started in 2009, and still going strong). I’ve had countless authors and other bloggers thank me for standing up on the virtual stage, never knowing if anyone was in the audience to hear me speak. Because of my blog, I gained insight and courage I never thought I had. Because of my blog I became an author- KT Grant. I went from Kate (to some Katie), to KB (initials from Katiebabs) to KT Grant the author.

On Wednesday something horrendous happened, especially to a long-time blogger. I wasn’t able to update posts or add any because of a database issue. I thought I could fix it myself, and when I did, I made a huge error. Every post I had since September 2008 disappeared. I erased my virtual footprint. The horror of what I had done consumed me for a good 10 minutes, but then after a calmness settled in, and finally resignation. I had decided this was the end of Babblings.

I was really trying to make it to my tenth anniversary of my blog, and then would close up shop. I almost decided to close last year because of other more important responsibilities I had to concentrate on. A few reasons for this decision involved the changing of the blogging community. The blogging community I stumbled into way back in 2006 had drastically changed by 2013, mainly in part of the rise of Twitter. Blogs I had come to enjoy were disappearing, or others I had interacted with left or disappeared. I was changing too. I decided to make my dream a reality and become a published author. I published my first book in May 2010. I’ve been a published author for 7 years with 35 titles to my name. The entire time I published, I kept blogging. In the 9 years of blogging and 7 years as a published author, I’ve written millions upon millions of words. The word “word” is one of my favorite words in the spoken language.

Changes are a part of life. So is the case of my professional and personal life. My blog was there for me during a time I needed it. It gave me strength during a difficult time back in 2010, that came in second to when I was thirteen-years old, and thought I would live past fourteen because of the dark thoughts consuming me daily. I had a crisis of faith in 2010 because of something that had hit me hard in my personal life. But then something or someone, perhaps a higher power spoke to me. In the fall of 2010, I was invited to Hawaii for a wedding. It was a sudden request, one I almost didn’t accept because I was in such a dark place in my mind. I didn’t think the beauty of an island, like the island of Maui could help me. But since the trip was paid for, which was beyond generous, I accepted. At least this vacation could help me forget my sad life for a while. This trip saved me because of one tiny miniscule thing so many take for granted. I’ll never forget it. I was sitting on the balcony in my room just staring at nothing. And then it happened. The sun started to set. A sun set. A Hawaiian sunset is a thing of beauty. Watching that sunset in Maui on a hotel room balcony gave me a feeling of such peace and self-worth. In that small moment the dark thoughts that had consumed me for almost a year vanished. I felt reborn. I can’t explain it but something made it possible for me to be at that exact moment in Maui to watch the sun set to help me move forward, specifically to walk out of the darkness and embrace that light.

Now seven years later I’m still here, stronger than ever in mind, body and spirit. It hasn’t always been easy but since that sunset I’ve had my shares of ups and down, but have always overcome. Just like watching a sunset in Maui, it was like something or someone was telling me it would be okay, and to move forward and carry on with the case of my blog going *poof*. It was time to move on.

So now I’m moving forward. I’m still very much here, nothing much will change other than not having a personal blog. I have a bad Twitter addiction, so you’ll find me there every day. I have my Facebook page, and my Pinterest (Not giving up posting WTF books and their covers). I’m not giving up writing anytime soon, so you bet you’ll see more KT Grant titles from me.

The memories of my time blogging will not be forgotten because the posts I’ve written and the interactions I’ve had made me smile more times than I can count. Why would I ever forget that?

Babbling About Books, and More had a theme song. I never shared it with anyone until now. For some reason the song “Music of the Night” from my favorite Broadway musical- The Phantom of the Opera became my theme song because the words I wrote, the posts I created, were my music of the night. Music of the Night is a lullaby to me, comparable to a sunset that shows why the world is so beautiful.

I leave you with the lyrics to Music of the Night and the music. I leave behind my blog, but not my babblings. Never my babblings, my words that set me free….

Night time sharpens, heightens each sensation Darkness wakes and stirs imagination Silently the senses abandon their defenses Helpless to resist the notes I write For I compose the music of the night Slowly, gently night unfurls it's splendor Grasp it, sense it, tremulous and tender Hearing is beliving, music is deceiving, Hard as lightening, soft, as candle light, Dare you trust the music of the night Close your eyes, for your eyes will only tell the truth, And the truth isn't what you want to see, In the dark it is easy to pretend, But the truth is what it ought to be Softly, deftly, Music shall caress you, Hear it, feel it, Secretly possess you Open up your mind, let your fantasies unwind, In this darkness which you know you can not fight.

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