Chapter 1

The first time she saw him was during a music lesson. She had got there early, and he had the lesson scheduled before her. She quietly stepped over to the couch and sat down after briefly giving a quick apologetic smile for the interruption to her teacher.

She was about to open her bag and start her homework when he began to play. Something made her lean back and listen.

There was an un-earthy quality to the music- or perhaps it was the expression behind the music. She blinked, blinked again.

It was then that the first spinning happened.

The music was all around her. The colors in the room seemed to fade and change, becoming older as if with time, like sepia tones in an old movie. And still the music carried on, lifting and rising so that now there were scenes flashing before her eyes, like a tape being set on rewind.

And now the music was reaching its crescendo, and the scenes before her eyes were moving faster and faster, and with a crash the music reached its height, until moving to slowly float way, with soft little twinkling notes.

The cold hard wash of silence greeted her ears, like a bucket of water. She leaned back against the couch, breathing hard.

Quietly her teacher said, "Very good, Erik. And now, I believe it is your turn, Christine."

Christine shook her head to clear it of whatever it was she had just experienced. She would have to figure out what all that meant later. Right now, she had to see the face of who had just played that piece with so much emotion, so much feeling. She turned towards the piano eagerly as the pianist slowly turned around, collecting his things, getting ready to leave.

He turned to face her as he stood. His eyes focused on arranging the sheet music in his arms, he did not see her face, but instead heard her gasp.

Christine stared in- no, not horror, but surprise- at the face of the person standing before her. A long thin scar curved above his eyebrows and towards his right temple in an L shape and another wider scar snaked down his cheek from the opposite temple.

Erik stared angrily at the girl sitting on the couch. She looked to be about 15 years old and was very pretty, with her dark green eyes and curly reddish hair. If it wasn't for the fearful way she was looking at him, he might've even liked her. But no, it was always like this. Everyone thought his music so beautiful, until they saw his face. They're just scars, dammit! He thought. He stared insolently back at the eyes that were searching his.

Christine knew she was staring, but she couldn't help it. There was something there—what was it? That steady glare was so familiar, so… what? Curiously she moved her eyes up to meet his. And then it happened again.

Erik felt her eyes meet his, and surprised that she hadn't lost her nerve, looked back into hers. Like a shock wave, adrenaline burst through his veins as he began seeing things besides her green eyes. Scenes that moved so fast, swirling around him, so that he could only see a slip of a picture, a face, maybe a movement. Too fast for anything to sink in.

Frightened, Christine ripped her eyes away from his, breaking the connection. Immediately trying to look as though nothing had happened, she reached for her bag and searched desperately through it for her music book.

The teacher had watched this entire exchange in silence. "Oh!" She said. "I think I owe you two an introduction. Erik, this is Christine Daae, who learns soprano from me. Christine, this is Erik Vachon, my nephew, who, as you can see, takes piano."

Erik nodded a hello and muttered a quick thanks to his aunt, and hurried out the door, still mentally shaking himself.

The music teacher, or Francine Giry, as she was known to most, now studied Christine's reaction. She watched as Christine clumsily gathered her things and moved to her position beside the piano. "All right," Francine said to Christine. Christine stared blankly. "Christine! Vocal warm-ups! Are you in there?"

"Oh-oh, yes, sorry, Mrs. Giry. I'm kind of out of it today." There was a pause, which Francine had the good conscious not to interrupt. And then,

"Uh… well, you don't- I mean, I'm sorry- I mean, what happened to Erik?"

Knowing this question would come; Mrs. Giry only nodded and replied, "He was born with a deformity. Luckily, I adopted him when he was young enough to have the surgery."

"Ohh… He was adopted? I thought you said he was your nephew!"

"Well, to most, I say he is, but no, he is actually adopted. Sadly, his mother was afraid of his face, and I found him in a garbage bin behind my old apartment, back when my husband and I were still together…

"But I have already probably said too much. Do not let Erik know I told you this, all right? He would be… embarrassed."

Christine slowly nodded, trying to digest all the information she had just learned. It was a bit too much.

And then the first few notes came floating from the piano keys, to wake her from her reverie, and the lesson continued, and after an hour Christine left.

Francine Giry leaned against the leather of her over stuffed couch. Smiling reminiscently, she thought of the looks her two pupils had exchanged earlier that day. "And so it begins," she murmured. "And so it begins…"
Christine gazed out the windows of the bus, seeing but not really. She was not entranced by the dark trees whipping past, nor the wet cars racing towards different destinations. She was seeing a pair of yellow eyes and the scenes reflected in them, and wondering at the feeling of familiarity she couldn't seem to place. She only knew that never before had she wanted the next Thursday's music lesson to come faster.