~hey guy I've been wanting to do this fan fiction so I'm doing it, and I know what you're all thinking. What's she thinking… doesn't she know I've been waiting on her other function… man if I found her I'll pop her one. But I can't help it…. To all the phantom lovers….. Enjoy. P.s. fake name for Erik's last name, never tells the real one.

~ Prolog~

I don't know when it started, this hole in my heart yearning for something. Maybe just out of reach.

I have known that I was different, with my head up in the clouds. I see things differently I suppose. Those that bask in luxuries, of there own purges. I think of nothing else but the basking of useless trinkets, and a world of lies for equality. all I dream is sweet dawning sun, the smell of the rain. And life's true beauty.

Even my mother and father thrive on such acts; I would never think to become such a glutton.

I'd rather stay in my room, to dream. Oh such sweet dreams.

The world above is a cold place, a discarded, tortures place for people such as us. My father has always told me, even when I was in the cradle.

We live here, the dark. That's all I ever known, is it wrong for such a creature such as I, to dare have thoughts of the warmth of the sun. Or of comfort in that of a stranger.

Or am I forever cursed to live in such a dungeon, a world I never chose. But was forced to live by such cruelties, from those above.

Two different worlds, yet same hearts. A life that intertwines even when, the other has no existent of the other.

But fate has plans for the two, a sweet happily ever after.

But it takes hardships first, to get to after.

~ Paris 8:15~

Time it seems, to tick by.

My mother, Christine de chagny famous soprano singer in all of Paris, and beyond.

My father, raoul vicomte de chagny a very important man.

Myself is Helen de chagny, I have nothing to go to my name. I'm just simply me, nothing more.

At this time were in our carriage, being pulled along by two elegant horses. I'm hypnotized by them, I wonder what they think have they had any sort of communication with one anther, or to they keep to them self's, such questions I so wish to unravel.

Stop squirming and face forward Helen" I father said firmly, shaking his head at my unlady like behavior.

I do as told, staring at my folded hands in my lap.

How strange hands are" I thought. How they could hold, feel, touch, hold, stroke, and calm. Yet harm, destroy, tear, strike fear, and mold till bent.

She came out of her musing as they came to there destination. Palais garnier, the opera house.

My mother spoke briefly of such a place, of how her times here, the art of dance, acting the pitches of sound. And the pure magic of it all.

But In a way I feel the truth in her words, staring at the grand opera house so fine an renewed.

Mother spoke of a fire, that in gulfed the old structure. This new one is just five years old, and at this time mother insisted we come.

But father resented the mere thought of it, but my mother was relentless and he eventually caved.

So here I was, at such a grand landscape. A place I haven't ever been, but feel a connection as though I was tied to it.

I haven't known this feeling before, and I'm slightly scared. But I also anticipate the feeling as well.

Inside we go, and I feel out of place along with underdressed.

Everyone here is in extravagant, silk, feathered, and mixed dyed clothes.

But as I look closer, I believe I'm not the one out of place they are.

I was in a simple velvety dress; it was quit heavy going only to my ankle, the sleeves going to my elbows, with a split on each side that was tied with black ribbons.

I also had a red cloke.

My father led us to our box-seat; the opera's play was "platee" Jean-Philippe Rameau.

It was fairly good I suposs but what caught my eye was movement up in the rafters.

Its nothing" I thought to myself.

Just the propes men, that change seats" I said, reasuring myself. But in a way I knew it wasn't true.

And I relized It wasn't so, the lights magical deamied startlying the adiance as well as myself.

A voice's that seemed to echo all over the room, begane to sound.

DO NOT DENI MY WISHES, REMEMBER WORSE THINGS CAN HAPPEN IF YOU DO NOT DO, ALL THAT THE PHANTOMS ASK OF YOU" I then seen a outline of a figure on the panister of box five.

But it was the secound figure that caugth my attention, he was more hidden then the other. Younger, and stayed to the shadows. Oh how I longed to get a closer look, to satisfe my curiosticy.

But my musing was cut short, madness seemed to be catching, people were running for the nearest exsit, my father pulled my mother up from the seat. And gestured me to follow.

But throw the flow of people I lost them, I was vilontly gered around, someone's heel caught on my dress ripping I't up to my thigh.

Others feet stepping on mine, I had to get away to save myself such voilence.

I spotted a vacant hallway, and found myself manuvering my way towards it, as I reached it I prest my back, to the cool solide bricks that was my safty,

I stayed like that, and at the corner of my eye, a swish of a cape caught my attention.

Finally I would find this mistirus stranger, I quicken my pace to look around the bend to cathch yet again, the swish of a cape going inside a hidden door, seemingly unoticed for it bended into the wall that sourouned it.

A split secound desison go or stay…. I follow.

How you like that, always a fan of the phantom of the opera, and I always will, and I hate cristine for chossing raoul instead of erik, but I really like the idea of there daughter and his son falling in love love me and I'll try to get more chapters in for my other fan-fics.