[Phantom of the Opera] In Praise of Iris

The long night is quiet, and the bright moonlight slowly diffuses over the window lattice, inexplicably feeling slightly drunk.

"You seem to be in a good mood." The uninvited visitor at the window laughed lowly, a little frivolous by the pure moonlight behind him.

The superficially exquisite score generously allows the current owner to give the newcomer a gleam of gaze. The gaze that has just been baptized by the rhyme and the majestic emotion contained in it is unexpectedly soft.

"This is really rare—I thought you would live your life with your absurd fantasy." The visitor did not hide the surprise and inquiry in his eyes, as if he was determined to ask for some explanation.

"This is not a dream." Irene rubbed the dark red lines on the music score with her fingertips that had gradually become callused during years of juggling training and performances, imagining the various colors/emotions that the instructor could not accurately distinguish even by herself. Stirring endlessly in his genius mind, the majestic pipe organ burst out extremely scribbled notes, and finally used blood to freeze the roar of this daunting soul.

"This is not a dream." Irene's gaze had long been stingy to stay on the impolite visitor—her entire soul had been seduced by the spell of this ghost, and she did not want to break free at all.

What a great miracle this is!Erin admired from the bottom of her heart.Following this wonderful melody, Irene sees all the inferiority and conceit of the genius composer, the uncontrollable eagerness for girls, and the exclusive desire or obsession that is engraved into the bone marrow as time goes by.Perhaps there are other rich and indecipherable emotions that are full of the genius singer's bestial catharsis, except for the noble and full love that should have been given to Christine.

Irene hummed a melody with unknown meaning, and greedily glanced at the score, every line, every summary, every note, over and over again, like a traveler who was dying of thirst smelling the moist breeze of an oasis in the distance, not daring to Believe, but don't want to doubt.

This is not a dream, Phantom does not love Christine.

Erin was overjoyed at her great discovery.Her hand holding the music score trembled slightly - no matter how hard she trained or how stable her mentality was, it would be difficult to be of any use under such a violent impact.

"Irene? Miss Irene Muller?" The visitor called out worriedly, listening carefully, there was probably a little bit of non-embarrassing reproach.

"Philip." Irene quickly closed the score, as if she was in a hurry to hide some great treasure.She looked clear, her eyes were soft, and even her voice was full of joy, as if she had just woken up from an unparalleled dream.

"Philip, please prepare as soon as possible. I think it's time for me to leave." The girl announced lightly.The light-colored lips and the lake-green eyes all radiate bright and confident light.

"Oh, I thought it would be at least another ten years before I heard your words." Philip raised the corners of his mouth contemptuously, his deep voice faded away prematurely under the polishing of time, leaving only old age The mellow aroma of fine wine seduces every innocent and charming opposite sex reservedly, "Facts have proved that being hurt by love is not only sad, but also sober."

It's a pity that Irene has heard the most moving voice in the world.She didn't even bother to refute the self-righteousness of her allies who had been taught repeatedly, but just touched the kettle in the slightly dim moonlight that was mostly blocked by someone, and poured two glasses of boiled water familiarly and put them on the bedside table.

"No sincerity!" remarked Philip indignantly, as if he were a young man who had been slighted by his master.

"Shouldn't you hurry up and discuss with me the details of pretending to be a noble lady?" Irene was unmoved, "If I remember correctly, the ladies who 'disappeared' in the Shani family back then were not too similar to me .”

"I thought Chief Penny's disguise was always perfect." Philip looked at Irene's suddenly gloomy face, and shrugged helplessly, "Okay, let's forget about that. However, the original plan needs to be changed." Yes, it is a huge change, because of your perfunctory and procrastination."

It is rare for Irene not to retort—she is immersed in fear that most people cannot understand, because of the "Penny Chief" and the power it represents: this product of impulse at the beginning has now brought nothing but glory and deterrence , and the blatant betrayal of the mentor.Oh, the betrayal has actually been there since she decided to create an intelligence network without her mentor's knowledge, and it's become more and more irrelevant as it continues to grow.

After all, she wasn't completely honest with him like she secretly promised and had a tacit understanding with her mentor.

Irene is even afraid of the root of this thing and the overly smooth growth-the former shows that she is somewhat repelled by the mentor's control and has not completely surrendered to her love; the latter can only mean that she is not the focus of the mentor object.

Of course, Irene didn't think it was a sin to have a certain amount of privacy, but she was afraid it would make her tutor angry; just like her strict tutor, who was unaware of the unconscious difference she had made between the two students, always It caused her to maintain a faint sense of joy, but at the same time panic.

This conflicted emotion reached its peak tonight.

You must keep it from him! Don't let him know for the rest of your life!Otherwise you will lose him forever!The sane part sternly ordered.

Leave it to him!Give him this fine net as a parting gift!From then on, you will no longer have any secrets and barriers in his eyes, and you will become the most cherished forbidden descendant of The Phantom of the Opera! However, in an inconspicuous corner that has not been completely captured by reason, Irene heard a faint voice calling Crazy Cry: Sincerely apologize to him and humbly beg forgiveness!Even if he falls into an unspeakable rage and decides to punish him heavily, that's the warning you deserve!

That voice came from her increasingly gray soul in her previous life. Excluding the feasible part, it is indeed difficult to hear a more exciting proposal than this.

Of course, Irene would not indulge her not-so-glorious thoughts, but it was really difficult for her to carry out the plan invariably.

So, it's time to leave.Irene's well-shaped lips opened and closed slightly, and she let out a lingering sigh, "Philip, everything is up to you, as long as you don't let too many people see the clues. Ah, by the way, Christine's birthday is just now. However, another serious illness has occurred, and my mentor will not pay me patient attention for a long time after tonight-this is a good time for you to carry out all your plans."

"Well, I swear, I will plan well and give our lovely Miss Irene a big 'surprise'." Philip yelled angrily, but Irene held the window and threw it out without any explanation.

Rather than discussing despicable and bloody schemes with cold and ruthless allies, Irene certainly prefers to feel the profound knowledge and majestic emotions of her mentor.The girl with the platinum mushroom head quietly lay back on the bed, the moonlight projected through the window cut onto her soft dark bedding and fair face, as if the palm of a goddess was gently caressing a just-finished doll.

The silver moon hung high, and in the cool night wind, the ghost's footsteps approached. Finally, with a soft "click", the gears of the night were tightly engaged, and the doll woke up.

"Mentor." Irene lifted the soft quilt without mercy, revealing her neatly dressed body under the quilt.

There was no response, and in Irene's bedroom, which was much more gorgeous than before, only the echo of her little leather shoes on the floor could be heard. "Da, da, da..." Gracefully approached at a constant speed.Irene clenched the skirt of her heart subconsciously, keenly aware that a subtle change was about to take place.

"Sing it to me, you cunning little thing." That was the tenderness that Irene seldom enjoyed, implying the devotion to the only driftwood in the only sobriety left of a drowning man.The most important point: he is close at hand.This is not a compliment to any kind of delicate mechanism of the mentor, but the most intuitive description.The Phantom of the Opera, the most mysterious ghost wandering in the opera house, the mentor whom Irene admires and loves deeply is standing quietly beside her bed at this moment.And she was half-sitting on the low bed, cautiously looking up at the mentor's graceful jaw and the irregular fine lines on the white mask.

Irene thought about countless possible first meetings with her mentor, but even in her best dream, she never imagined that he would take the initiative to meet her when Christine just passed her birthday and was still ill. Some unusual late night.

Ah, congratulations, Irene Muller, you finally stole the affection of your mentor.She heard herself sigh slightly.Then, the string in my head called "reason" seemed to burn out irretrievably, and all that was left was the singing instinct.

"Music Angel, please tell, I will listen devoutly."

"Angel of music, please sing, and I will follow cautiously."

"My guide, my patron saint, have I moved you to be honored by charity?"

Irene sang unrepentantly, without having to look at the music score written by Phantom in blood, and without deliberately prolonging the sound to conceive the lyrics of the next sentence.It was as if the tricks of stealing and cheating had never existed, as if she had always sung to him so humbly and fervently.It seems that she is a perfect doll based on Christine and combined with Phantom's heart!

Heh, take it as a parting gift from a bad student.Philip was right, Chief Penny's disguise was never perfect.Erin cherished the last orgy—she was soberly aware that it would be the last for a long time, and if she was unlucky, maybe forever.But so what?She never wanted stolen emotion, and it wasn't even love!

If one day I hand over my body and soul to you, it must be that you have a soft spot for me!

Irene's singing became more fanatical and pious, but her eyes seemed to be cut off from the world. The lake green pupils reflected the bright moonlight, showing a kind of indifference of a bystander.

For the first time in this familiar and unnatural frenzy, the Phantom faces Irene instead of Christine with fear—he is determined to tell the wayward bad student to stop playing tricks, but he can't help but associate her with the imaginary beloved. Christine coincided—they both admired him without fear, and made no attempt to escape.

"My angel, answer me—even with a hysterical scream!" Finally, he heard himself ask in a trembling, nasal voice, "If, I'm just saying, if, you lost my singing..." The majestic teacher hardly dared to speak any more. If he lost his singing voice that could seduce angels, what bargaining chip would he have left?

Is this a question you often think about when dealing with Christine?It's really distressing.But why, but only to me?Whose answer do you want?

Compared with the ignorance of the tutor, Irene is obviously more likely to realize something.Before that stalwart figure cried out, she finally softened her eyes and solemnly promised, "If I lose your singing voice, then mine will also fall asleep for you."

The author has something to say: Did you feel a little moved by the chapter that was coded secretly with your mobile phone under the covers in the middle of the night?In addition, please forgive me if there are typographical problems.