AN: Here's something rolling around in my head that I decided to put down. Let me know what you think!

Disclaimer: I don't own the Phantom of the Opera. All made up characters are mine.

Chapter 1

Paris, April 2017

Fire. All around me I could feel flames licking at my face and clothes. In the distance I heard screaming. A dark form came towards me through the smoke as I blacked out.

I tied the black ribbon to keep my half mask in place. Ironically, my favorite story had always been Leroux's Phantom of the Opera. Now I wore a porcelain half mask like my favorite Opera Ghost's with a slightly feminine twist. It had been almost five months since the accident that left the right side of my face hopelessly mangled.

I sighed as there was a knock on the front door.

"Coming!"

Glancing in the mirror once more to make sure the right side of my face was completely covered, I hurried to let my guest inside.

"Hey, Meg," I greeted my friend.

"Hi, Christine," she replied.

At one point, we would laugh over the reference our Phantom loving parents made when they named us. But ever since the accident, there hadn't been much laughter or smiling for that matter. We even looked like our namesakes. At least, until the accident made me more like the Phantom than his love.

"Christine, you don't have to wear that around me. I don't care if that car crash ruined your face."

I shook my head. I couldn't part with the porcelain mask that had become part of my everyday wear. The only time I ever dared remove it was to sleep or wash, otherwise it remained on my face.

"We are going out, Meg. Even though you may not care, others might. It is better this way."

With a huff, Meg turned and opened the door.

"Let's get going, then."

I followed her out, donning a black cloak and locking my door as we went. We hurried through the busy Paris streets toward the massive Opera House a block away. There were benefits to living so close to work. Once we arrived, Meg hurried off to get ready with the other members in the corp de ballet.

Pulling the cloak's hood further over my face, I hurried in the opposite direction. While I had used to be a chorus girl, I now worked as a maid. I figured since the accident, stage life wasn't a good idea any more. As a maid, a lot less questions were asked about my mask.

I sat down with a sigh. I had finished my chores early and now had a bit of free time to relax. I was now located in Box 5, the door locked behind me. I found that spending time in the box helped me calm down. I had to keep the box door locked because tourists would come through and learn about why it was still left unused.

From the shadow of the box I watched the rehearsal occurring on the stage below. I easily identified Meg among the performers as well as some of my friends in the chorus from when I performed alongside them. Meg had recently been named Prima Ballerina. I had been making my way up to Prima Donna before I left.

I stood and leaned against the wall of the box, further hiding myself in the shadows, breathed in deeply. The box smelled of roses and something else I couldn't identify. It was pleasant, but strong. Resting my head on the wall, my elbow hit something small and sharp.

"Ow!" I exclaimed.

I didn't have time to examine my elbow before a doorway opened in the wall of the box. I let out an audible gasp and peered through. It was a crudely formed stone passage with a long set of stone steps leading down lit by torches along the walls. They had told us that all passages had been closed off. They had obviously missed this one.

Looking back at the rehearsal, I made my way down, using a torch from the wall to light my way.