I woke up in an unfamiliar bed. It was comfortable and warm, but the black curtain isolating me from the rest of the strange room I was in was unsettling. Pulling the curtain aside, the events from last night rushed back into my mind.

My Angel of Music wasn't an angel after all. He was a man. A very mysterious man, for he wore a cape, a fedora, and a vertical mask that covered half his face. I should've been afraid. I should of turned away from him.

But I didn't.

When he appeared in my dressing room mirror, I went with him. I went with him without a second thought. I remember he led me through his lair, singing with me the whole time. One lyric he sung still hung in my mind.

My power over you grows stronger yet.

He wasn't wrong.

But how did I end up in the bed?

The memory of fainting came flooding back. He had made a mannequin of me, wearing a wedding dress. The last thing I remembered was being shocked into unconsciousness. He must of carried me to the bed. The thought of him carrying me made me smile, and in a way, I wished I had been awake to experience it.

I was snapped out of my thoughts by a strange song. It was coming from a music box in the shape of a monkey. Turning my head, I saw that it was sat on a table, near the bed I had been sleeping on. Suddenly the sound of a loud, melancholy song cut off the monkey. Following the song, I walked to the other side of my Angel's lair, before discovering it was him playing the heart-wrenching song on the organ.

I walked up to him, and suddenly I was overcome with curiosity. What was this man hiding behind his mask? There was only one way to find out. Mustering up all my courage, I walked up to him. I realized the mask he wore obstructed his peripheral vision on the ride side. So, he couldn't see me coming. He didn't hear me. He was too absorbed in his music. He didn't know I was about to discard the mystifying mask he wore.

A scream I didn't think could come from a human being escaped my Angel's lips the instant he felt the cool air hit his face. He threw me to the ground in his rage. "Damn you! You little prying Pandora! You little demon! Is this what you wanted to see!?"

As he went on with his outburst, the pain in my arm from where he threw me seemed to multiply by the second. Hot tears streamed down my face, half because of the pain, and half because of the guilt I felt for causing my Angel so much grief.

"…but secretly, dreams of beauty, secretly….secretly…." My Angel was finished with his rant, and was now sitting on the ground, next to me, tears spilling down his left cheek. He was covering the right cheek with his hand, but I imagine tears were pouring from his right eye, too.

"Angel…" I whispered, handing him his mask. I winced as pressure was put on my right arm, and the pain intensified. My Angel noticed me flinch. He put his mask on in a flash and gently grabbed my arm.

"Christine…I have hurt you. My poor, sweet Christine! Forgive me! I didn't mean to!" He looked like he was about to cry again.

"No, Angel! It wasn't your fault! I had it coming, for snatching your mask like that. Please, do not blame yourself."

I should bring you back to your dressing room. You shouldn't be down here when you are injured. He stood up, then offered a hand to pull me up with him.

"No, Angel. Can I please stay with you down here? Please!" Something about this masked man was intriguing and attractive, even though under the mask he was hideous. I was strangely drawn to him, and the thought of me staying with him longer made my heart flutter.

"No, Christine," he said firmly. "I shall return you to your dressing room immediately."

I sighed, as I knew this was an argument I could not win. He took my hand in his gloved one, and led me back above ground, and finally back through the mirror, to my dressing room. "Will you return soon, Angel?" I asked hopefully.

He nodded. "I will return to check on your arm tomorrow morning. For now, call the doctor. Have him check on it."

I nodded, and he disappeared through the mirror once more, without a good-bye.