The Opera Ghost, a man, if you call him a man, suspended into darkness and loneliness into his home beneath the Opera House, and amongst the catacombs. To him, it was more of a hell than home, but he managed with what he had. The man, standing very tall in height, was very thin for his height, giving him an almost skeletal look. His skin was very pale and stretched tightly over his bones. He sat at his organ bench, his eyes closed. But underneath the lids of his eyes were a pair of blue-grey eyes that could chill one to the bone, when stared at. His hair, a jet black, was hanging in his face. It was very shaggy and greasy, as well. There were also strands of grey tied in with the midnight black. His face was very narrow, and his body frame was thin, yet broad in some odd way. On the right side of his face was a white porcelain mask, which he placed over his horror, over his deformity. The mask covered his entire face except for his lips and his chin. His chest struggled up and down as he took in slow, but ragged breaths. The surroundings of his home were not beautiful as they once were when, she, was still at the Opera House. Shattered mirrors surrounded him, and glass layered the floor. Most of the drawings, paintings, and masterpieces he had of Christine, were torn in two, and lay askew on the floor. Only few of the thousands of candles in his home were lit, leaving his underground home in almost complete pitch darkness.

The clothes on his thin body were tattered and dirty. He wore very elegant attire, as most gentlemen did in Paris, but most of it sagged on his body due to a dramatic weight loss from a deep and dark depression. What caused this depression you might ask him? He had lost a love, a true love. He lost an Angel of Music that came straight from heaven. He had lost Christine Daae. That's all his mind was fixed on, all that his mind was thinking of. Her. He could think of nothing else other than Christine. He had very little sleep, and barely any food or water, which caused him to look as he did. He didn't care of himself anymore. He just sat in his self-pity through the days. He did nothing. He could care less about what opera was showing, though he still claimed his box, to have something to do, when he did have the strength to climb the long way to the ground floor of the Opera Populaire. He took his money, though he barely used it. He hadn't spoken a word to anyone in years, not even Madame Giry. Even when he saw her, he would not utter a word.

The Phantom of the Opera, or Erik, would spend his life like this from now on. He wanted to die. He wanted to rip his heart straight from his breast; maybe then his heart would stop aching. He sighed gently at his organ and opened his eyes to look at the sheet of music that sat on the music stand, of the organ. The Music of the Night is what it read at the top. It was his masterpiece written for Christine. It was all for Christine. Every soul and life he took was for her. His opera, Don Juan Triumphant was for her. The opera, Don Juan had perished in the great fire. The Opera House had been rebuilt, though it wasn't near as beautiful as the old one, in his eyes. Erik remembered the night all those years ago when he first introduced, The Music of the Night, to Christine. Every note he sung, was full of love and passion for her. But she rejected him, she turned away. But that was all over, The Music of the Night was over, and it would be no more.

A young girl stepped out onto the cobblestone street from her carriage. Her light blue eyes starred with awe and amazement up at the Opera House. Immediately the girl snapped back to reality as she heard a slight cough from the driver of the carriage. She smiled sheepishly as she handed him a tip, "This is our secret." She said intently. The man nodded as he took the money and rode off. She picked up her emerald dress so it wouldn't drag on the ground and made her way into the Opera house. She froze, awe struck, at the beauty of the main entrance. It was just like how her mother described it in the stories, the majestic staircase, the gold statues, everything was marvelous. The girl took one step hearing the click of her heal echo throughout the room. A smile crept onto her face as she made her way up the staircase and towards the theatre.

Erik sighed softly, and coughed, sending a rack of pain through his chest. He winced slightly. Once the pain had ceased he rested his head against the cool wood of the organ, his breathing quite ragged, as if trying to get under control. He coughed again, but this time, a few drops of blood came from his mouth and landed on the stone floor. Erik looked down upon it, but thought nothing of it. He was dying, he knew it. Ever since Christine left he didn't care. And with him dead, Christine and Raoul would lead happier lives. And that's all that he wanted, was for Christine to be happy, always...

The theatre was more than she could ever dream of. Her eyes scanned all across the vast room as the beauty silenced her. The magnificent chandelier was the first thing to catch her eye as she gazed up at it. In an instant, she thought of her mother and couldn't help but to regret coming here in the first place. Never has the girl disobeyed her mother, until now that is. But she had already come this far, there was no sense in turning back now. Cautiously she made her way onto the stage and starred out at the invisible audience. A soft hum from her mouth her body swayed gently, starting to perform to her pretend audience. There was no possible way the girl could ever do this in real life. Her stage fright got the better of her at times.

A single tear slid down his cheek, but a voice. Just the smallest hum reached his ears, through the grotto. It couldn't be. The voice belonged to Christine Daae, he knew it. It was so familiar. There was just something in her voice that wasn't hers anymore. He quickly grabbed his cloak and made his way slowly up the passages, stopping to cough up blood along the way, but he finally made it to Box 5 without being seen. He stayed within the shadows of the box, as he looked toward the stage. A girl who looked like Christine only younger, very young. He tilted his head the side, his eyes widening slightly. This was her daughter. What was she doing here? He knew that Raoul or Christine had to have some sense in their mind not to let her visit the Opera House...

The girl was entranced by her own make believe world. All worries and stress simply left her mind as she continued to perform on the stage. The hum soon turned into words, a lullaby her mother sung to her while she was young.

He listened to her voice, sweet and pure as it transformed into words. This was defiantly Christine's child. She was beautiful just like her mother and her talents as well. He didn't see much of the bastard in her though. Which was quite good. He was sure her parents never told her of the Opera Ghost before. He raised his eyebrows slightly, her voice could...no. He was not going to play the role of voice teacher again. That would wreck Christine's life if he fell in love with her daughter, but, there was no way he could anyway. All of his heart rested with Christine...

"Ahem." A voice said towards the wings of the stage. The girl nearly jumped as her performance came to an abrupt end.

"My apologies, Monsieur." She said with a blush upon her face,

"Might I ask what you are doing here?" The man asked as her emerged from the wings. He was a tall fellow and in his early twenties. His clothes noted his nobility and his young face was quite attractive.

"I just wanted to look around that's all." The girl said a little embarrassed.

"You have a beautiful voice." The man said with a smile.

The compliment only made the blush grow worse, "You saw me?"

"Yes I did." He said with a slight laugh, "I'm Alexander the patron of this fine Opera House." He then kissed Katherine's hand," And who might you be?"

"Katherine De Chagny, it's a pleasure to meet you." She said politely.

Erik let out a silent disgusting sigh. Was every woman in that family really going to fall for some rich patron? He sighed softly, his eyebrows going into an angry pose. This reminded him of when Raoul asked Christine to dinner, it made his heart burn with jealousy. Sure, he was not jealous...but still, it just worried him to all end. But he supposed Raoul would want her to marry someone of noble blood. Something that disgusted him to no end...

"De Chagny?" A thought then struck Alexander's mind. She must be the daughter of the man who was the last patron. Then her mother must be Christine Daae. Oh this was just perfect, he could have Katherine be the leading lady in the new opera. Everyone in Paris would be a ticket if they found out that a Daae would be in the show, "Your parents worked here didn't they?" He asked with a slight grin.

"Yes they did." Katherine said cautiously wondering what the reason behind his grin was.

"How would like to sing in front of a live audience? You seemed like you were having fun on the stage." Alexander stated looking down out the girl.

"Me... in front of an audience..." Even just the thought of behind in front of a real audience terrified her; "I can't..." She stated softly ashamed of her childish fear.

Without even thinking Erik spoke. "Of course she would, she would love to sing..."Erik said with a small raise of his eyebrows, but kept to the shadows of his box.

Katherine's head perked up as she heard a soft voice. She couldn't help but too look around a little at the empty auditorium, "Did you here that?" Could have there been someone else in the room?

"Hear what?" Alexander questioned giving a quick scan around the room as well, "May I escort you through the Opera House, Mademoiselle?" He thought that maybe this would be him some time to talk her into it. Alexander politely extended his arm towards her.

Katherine hesitated a moment as she looked at the polite gesture. Well that was what she wanted to do today. "I suppose…" She said still unsure as her arm linked with his. They then exited the theater and towards backstage.

"Your mother was a great singer; I see her traits have passed on to you." He casually stated as they walked through the hallways of the backstage area.

"Well not all of them...you see...I have stage-fright." She said a little embarrassed from stating her flaw.

"That's quite alright, nothing that can't be fixed" Alexander said with a little smile and a slight chuckle. The two then stopped in front a beautifully stained oak door with an empty name plate fastened to it.

"What's behind it?" Katherine asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.

"This is the room where the leading ladies stay." He then opened the door and they both walked inside revealing a fully furnished room. There had to of been some of the finest furniture in Paris in there.

"It's beautiful." Katherine eagerly entered the room. She stood in the middle quickly looking around trying to capture all its beauty.

"Of course, you could stay here if you are in the Opera." Alexander said making his way to the door as Katherine was still enjoying the view.

"I already told you I can't." Katherine said as her focus returned.

"I'll give you some time to think about it." Alexander then left the room shutting the door behind him.

"Wait! I already said I-" Katherine called out, but it was too late. A sigh of frustration let her lips as she sat down at the marbled top desk, "Oh Katherine…what have you've gotten yourself into this time…" She said as her head gently rested in the palm of her hand.

Erik had followed them both, when they were alone; Erik spoke from inside the walls. "He speaks the truth, you have the voice of you mother, a soul I knew quite well as a matter of fact. I know I must frighten you, but you have no need to worry...you will sing in an opera on the opening night of the opera season. You will sing and the crowd will be awed...you will be adored just as your mother once was. I can help you. I can help you with any problem you may have. For I am in fact, an Angel of Music..."Erik said, letting his own fantasies possess him again. He smiled darkly through the walls. "I am an Angel of Music and wish to help you..."Erik spoke finally after a long pause.

Immediately her hear perked up as she heard the voice. Katherine looked around trying to match a body to the voice but there was no one there. So she wasn't hearing things before. Oh what the voice spoke of was her dream, a dream that would never become reality, "There is no way my mother would let me." She said in a disappointing tone.

"What your mother doesn't know, won't hurt her..."Erik snapped back, but calmed his voice." You have to pure a voice to let it go to waste inside your parent's home..."he said to her. "Every Wednesday you will meet me in the chapel, midnight. And I must ask you to never be late. I despise it. And one more thing...be sure to not tell either of your parents of my existence. It would make you seem mad..."Erik lied to her, and with a swish of his cloak he was gone before she could argue.

Katherine did get up to object to the voice but she had a feeling that she was alone again. Her attention was brought back to the door as it opened, "Have you thought it over?" Alexander asked appearing in the door way.

Katherine stood there silently a moment, "Yes I have." She said, "I will be in your show." She agreed. There was just something about that voice. If it had anyway way of making her dream come true, she would follow it.

"Great, here is the songs and script." He handed her a pile of papers he had already prepared for her, "Rehearsals don't start quite yet so you have some time to go over everything. Now if you'll excuse me I must go tell the others." He then ran out of the room with excitement. Katherine stood there looking down at the script hopping that she made the right decision.