She always felt invisible.

Even then, as she walked through the mostly clear nighttime streets, trying to avoid large puddles, but still being bumped into by more than one stranger. She supposed she didn't stand out enough for people to notice her. She was plain and blended in, and she didn't really mind. She just accepted it; that's the way life was. Her life at least.

Her name was Molly Hooper. She was in her mid-twenties and was smart, and some people told her she had the possibility of a great future. She didn't believe them. She was just that one girl who always blended in, absolutely nothing special about her.

She worked at the Opera House, a medium sized building on a busy London street. It was quite a popular place for some of the higher class people in the city. Irene Adler and her lovely singing voice were a big hit there.

Molly didn't sing, though she would have loved to. She had never been able to pull together the courage to audition in front of the two managers of the Opera House: Sherlock Holmes and John Watson. She knew Mr. Watson was a nice person, but she always felt nervous around Mr. Holmes. She thought it was the cold, blue eyes that seemed to look right inside of her.

Her job was cleaning the place after every show. It was a large building, and as she was the only janitor, the chore took her all night. But she got to be alone in the splendor of the building, so she didn't mind at all.

She didn't mind a lot of things.

She arrived early on that particular night, early enough to see the Friday night show. She walked in through on of the side doors, specifically the one that lead to a dressing room. Once she entered, Molly meet a strange scene.

Most of the singers were there, gossiping, and that wasn't really an uncommon occurrence. They would take every chance they could to spread false news. The strange part was that every now and then one of the singers names would be called, and they would go off into a side room, and leave several minutes later with a pout on their face. Some even came out crying.

Molly wondered what it was all about, and she happened to see one of ticket takers, Sarah Sawyer, walk by. Sarah was one of the closest thing's Molly had to a friend, so she walked up to her.

"Sarah, what's going on?"

"What do you mean?"

Molly gestured to the singers, and the door.

"Oh, that. Adler's sick, and Mr. Holmes and John are trying to find someone to replace her for the night."

"Really? I wonder who they'll chose."

"I'm not sure, but it's time's like this I'm glad I'm not a singer here. They're all best friends until one gets a better slot in the show."

"I know, right? And Miss Adler's spot is the best, there is probably going to be some rivalries made tonight."

Sarah looked down at her watch.

"I've got to go back to my booth. Let me know who hates who later, okay?"

Molly smiled and Sarah left. Molly supposed she should go too, but she stayed in her spot in the corner of the dressing room. She watched as another singer ran out of the side room, fresh tears on her face. Molly pitied her, she knew Mr. Holmes pointed out every single flaw, whether it be with singing or other things, and that he saw nothing wrong with doing that.

No one else was called into the room after that, and for the next few minutes the dressing room was filled with chatter as the occupants wondered who would be chosen.

Mr. Holmes and Mr. Watson soon left the side room, and the room fell mostly silent.

"Was that everyone?" Mr. Watson spoke in a hushed tone to the other manager.

Mr. Holmes' eyes looked over everyone in the room.

"You," he said, pointing in the general direction of the person he was calling out.

Molly quickly glanced to her right and left, desperately hoping he was calling someone else.

"You, in the white hoodie. You didn't try out."

Molly felt all eyes in the room turn to her, and red crept into her cheeks.

"I-I'm not a s-singer, sir," she managed to stutter out.

"Then why are you here?"

"I'm the j-janitor."

"Can you sing?"

"Sort of, but not-"

"Get in there."

Molly's blush deepened as she walked past the group of singers watching the scene, and entered the side room. The room was empty, except for two small fold-up chairs. Mr. Watson directed Molly to stand opposite the chairs, and Molly searched her mind for a song.

Most songs she knew were the catchy, modern songs that played repetitively on the radio, but this was an opera house, and that would never do. She did know a few short opera songs that she had learned by heart due to playing soundtracks of famous singers while cleaning. She picked a short song in french, one that she had been caught singing in the shower once and complimented on.

She shut her eyes-

"Eyes open. Shutting your eyes is a sign you're not confident. If you are not confident, that will just throw off the singing," Mr. Holmes immediately said.

She opened her eyes, and focused on a corner of the room so she didn't directly see the two managers, and she began. She tried her hardest not to rush it, and she tried to remember every piece of advice on singing she had heard over the years. She soon found herself focusing less on her surroundings and the gaze of the two managers, but rather on the song itself.

Despite the feeling that it would last forever, it was over and done with in a short while. Mr. Holmes said nothing, but Mr. Watson gave her a smile and a compliment.

She quickly left the room after they excused her, and again avoided the looks of the singers as she walked past. The singers already thought they were above her, considering they were the stars, and she was just a janitor. If the rare chance happened and she was chosen, that would just give them all the more reason to hate her.

Molly pulled out her phone and checked the time, it was a little after five. The show started at six.

There was a few minuets wait, and more than a few glares sent Molly's way, before the door opened again. The two managers walked out, and Mr. Holmes lingered by the door while Mr. Watson walked up to Irene Adler's replacement.

He walked up to Molly.

He brushed right on past the singers, the numerous people who had poured their heart's into their careers, and walked right up to Molly, the janitor who was pretty sure she was going nowhere in life.

"We chose you," Mr. Watson said simply, "We feel you're the best for tonight. That song you sung is fine, as for a dress and things I'm sure something back here will fit you. We'll let you know when you're supposed to go on and things like that."

Molly would have loved to say thank you, or something along the lines of that, but the sudden rush of what she was going to do hit her. All she managed was a nervous smile.

"Don't worry, you'll be fine," he reassured her, before walking off to join Mr. Holmes, and then the duo exited the dressing room.

Chatter resumed by the singers, comments were made, and a few insults were discretely directed at Molly, both whispered and said loud and clear. More that a few nasty looks were sent Molly's way.

Molly heard nor saw any of that.

She would be singing. In one of the most popular opera houses in London. In the prime slot. While the thought was absolutely nerve-racking, she couldn't help but feel a buzz of excitement.

She, little Molly Hooper, who never thought she'd amount to anything, was going to sing on stage.

Molly smiled.


A/N: I'm in love with this idea. It just was one of those things that just stick. And I love writing this. It was one of the rare instances where I spend more than one day on a first chapter, because I really don't want to screw this up.

So this will be sorta like the Phantom of the Opera, but it will be its own thing too. I'm not quite sure how much it will resemble PotO once it's finished, but that's where the idea came from.
Reviews are appreciated, very very much, whether it be a 'Nice Story', constructive criticism, or a five paragraph essay pointing out it's every flaw, though I'm positive that the last ones possibility is very very slim.

Anyways, I'm totally rambling now, but I hoped you like the first chapter.