Chapter One

"Happy Birthday, Belle!"

She opened her eyes and saw her Aunt Mary, standing in front of her. She grumbles and turns over to face the window that was on the opposite side of the room.

"Come on, sweetie. Time to get up. You've got presents to open," her aunt seemed more joyous at the occasion than she did.

A light streamed across Belle's face, picking on her dark blue eyes. She picked up her pillow, placed it on her head and faced her mattress. She became tangled in her bed sheets trying to get comfortable.

"Auntie, I'm turning twenty-one, not eight years old. I worked 'till closed at the theater last night," she stated to aunt groggily.

"You got eleven hours of sleep. That should be more than enough. Come on, pudding. Let's get a move on," the sheets flew off Belle's body, revealing her plaid pajamas.

She turned over, took the pillow off of her face, and sat up. Her eyes came into focus, after blinking them a few times and noticed that it was a bright sunny day.

"Good morning, beautiful. Your uncle and I got a big day planned for you. First, a present from your mom," she put the box on Belle's lap.

Belle picked it up and ripped off the wrapping paper that has been yellowed and was old.

"Careful opening, sweet pea. It's really old. It's been in the family for a decade," her aunt said. She stood in her doorframe and yelled down to her husband to come up stairs.

Belle lifted the lid of the box and saw a beautiful choker. The brass swirls and flowers were decorated with jewels and in the middle was a locket with a drop down green pendant.

"Wow, it's beautiful," she said, twisting it in the light.

Her aunt looked over to her and noticed that the necklace was revealed. She walked over to her and grasped the necklace and started to unhook it in the back.

"In the Barbezac's family, this choker is given to either the youngest or only daughter on her twenty-first birthday. Once the choker is placed upon her neck, she is to never take it off unless she solves the mystery," her aunt placed it on Belle's neck and clasped it in the back.

Her uncle was now standing in the doorway, carrying an envelope and looked over to his niece.

"You look simply ravishing, my darling," he said to her, embracing her in a hug.

"Thank you, Uncle Patrick. When will the mystery be solved?" She looked over to her aunt.

"You see the locket on the choker. Once that bursts open, the mystery of the Barbezac's family will be solved. It won't budge otherwise. Your mother took it to a jeweler and the jeweler couldn't even open it. She told me when you were born, you were destined for greatness that something greater than what she could even begin to imagine. Your father thought she was crazy, but it never stopped her from keeping it strong. She loved you more than the world, Belle, and only wanted the best for you," her aunt said.

Belle smiled as a tear fell down her cheek. She missed her mother and father, before he was a drunk and how simple life was before her mom died.

"Thank you. I promise I'll solve the mystery," she said to her aunt, touching it with the tips of her fingers.

"One thing you have to remember my dear, 'Your heart will be the key'," her aunt said to her, standing next to her uncle. She gave him a hug.

Belle got out of bed and looked over to the mirror that was in her bedroom, admiring the choker that was now on her neck. The new ornament of her neck was going to take some time to get used to, but she was willing to take the time to warm up to it. Her mom did wear it before her and she was willing to learn as much about her past as well as her family's.

"We have a mission for you today. This came from your father. It is his will. He gave us strict instructions that you were to receive it on your twenty-first birthday and that you are to go over it with his lawyer. You have an appointment with him at twelve thirty at his office," her uncle said to her, handing her the manila envelope.

Belle glanced over to the clock and saw that she had forty-five minutes to get ready. She was now glad that her aunt had woken her up when she did.

"Thank you," she said simply, hugging her uncle and her aunt.

"I'll drive you into town, but you need to get ready. Then when you finish with him, you and I are going shopping," her aunt said, closing the door to her bedroom.

Belle spun around the room and picked out her business casual outfit and pranced into her bathroom.

For once in her life, she was happy. Something was going better than she thought. Usually things go wrong but not yet.

She placed her clothes on her courier cabinet, and turned the knob to turn on the shower. Steam filled the bathroom and started to fog up the mirror. Belle was starting to get undressed but glanced over at the mirror. Only the right side had fogged over, which made Belle look at the mirror in wonder. Her shower was on the left side of her bathroom, opposite of the side that was fogging.

Now half of her face was revealed and she wondered why it was doing this, but she didn't have all the time in the world to dwell on this phenomenon, so she climbed into the shower and started to sing out random notes.

She turned off her shower and grabbed a towel, still singing notes from high to low and started to get dressed. She opened the door and sat down at her vanity and started to brush out her hair. Her singing had stopped, and her room was now silent.

"Brava, Brava, Bravissma," a male voice echoed through her room.

She jumped and stopped instantly. Her heart was racing faster than a racehorse but no one was there. It was just her alone. She shook the thought from her mind and finished getting ready for the day.

Belle ran down the stairs, envelope in hand, and gave her uncle another hug. She was really excited about the day and what it had in store for her.

"You ready, sweetie?"

"I am, auntie. Let the day begin," she held her arms out wide and started to twirl in the middle of the kitchen.

"I'll see you later at the restaurant. Don't forget to pick her up," Aunt Mary had hugged and kissed her husband goodbye.

"I won't. I'll meet you there at seven sharp," he said to her.

"I'll meet you at the dress shop down the street, okay? Good luck with your meeting," her aunt had dropped her off in front of the lawyer's office.

"Okay. Thanks," she said, closing the door of the Hyundai Accent.

She turned around and faced the window that read 'Jonathon A. Tussi. Attorney at Law.' She laughed to herself, remembering that the strange name helped her in a case earlier against her ex boyfriend that is now in jail, found guilty for raping her at prom.

She walked in, triggering a bell to go off when the door opened. His secretary looked up at her.

"Hello, you must be Miss Case. Please have a seat. I'll let Mr. Tussi know you are here," she said to her and walked into another room. Belle took a seat.

She looked around at the office and saw a bookcase that was filled with law books and the walls were decorated with tons of different paintings. It smelt like ocean breeze and cinnamon. It tickled her nose as she took in a deep breath.

"He'll see you now," she said, turning her head towards Belle.

"Thank you," Belle said as she got up and walked into his office.

His office was the same as the waiting room in the warm browns and black big desk with a laptop off to the side.

"Ah, hello Miss Case. Nice to see you again," he stood up and shook her hand.

"You too," she lied. It was hard for her to remember things from her high school years due to her car accident.

"Well, your father made this appointment for you many years ago to go over his will with you. Did you bring it?" He asked her as they both sat down.

"Oh, yes I did. Here," she handed the envelope over to him over the desk.

He opened the envelope, pulled out the packet of papers and read it over. He nodded and highlighted some parts. It took him a good ten minutes of looking it over to determine his words, and Belle just stared at him with impatience and eagerness.

"Well, it seems that you have quite a fortunate birthday present from your father. There has been an opera house in his family for centuries. It is called "Opera Populaire. It is now yours along with ten million dollars or eight million euros and all of your father's physical objects. Congratulations!" He said to her, handing her the will and the deed that had her name written down.

"Wow. I get an opera house! Thanks, dad," she said with her face up to the ceiling.

"It says that it is really old and you'll have to do many repairs to fix it up, but the nice thing is that due to France's horrible job outlook, the government will probably give you some money if you can provide at least thirty new jobs, which with it being an old opera house, you can get away with no problem," Mr. Tussi said to her.

"Really? Wow. How do I go about that?" She asked him.

"I'm not sure. Let me call and ask my brother. He lives in France and he knows the law over there. If you wait just one moment, I'll call him right now," he said picking up the phone and dialing the number.

Belle sat back and tuned out the phone conversation. Her mind started to wonder to what the opera house would like. She imagined that beyond the dust and decaying walls, was beauty and magnificence. When her mind tried to remember what she had learned about Victorian opera houses, she remembered the tale she read in high school; Gaston Leroux's famous tale of The Phantom of the Opera.

She wondered if he was real if Leroux's depiction of him was true of being a true reflection of death or if Andrew Lloyd Webber was closer to being correct of being a misunderstood creative genius. She could get along with Andrew Lloyd Webber's depiction better than that of Leroux's. This, of course, made The Phantom real, which was still debatable at this point.

"Good news. My brother wants to meet with you if you plan to keep this opera house in France. He will represent you in requesting your grant," Mr. Tussi's voice interrupted her wondering thoughts.

"Wonderful!"

"Just make sure you call him when you decide to leave France," he handed her a business card with a phone number on it.

"Thank you so much, Mr. Tussi," she said to him, sealing the manila envelope.

"You're welcome. Good luck in France," he said, shaking her hand.

She left the lawyer's office and headed down the street, trying to wrap her mind around what her father had left her. She had gotten an opera house, and she wanted to keep it and restore it to its former glory.

She had to determine what she needed to do to get things in order but she wanted to wait until she talked it over with her aunt and uncle first. Not to mention her job. She was manager at the local movie theater and she had to give them at least two weeks notice, to by professional.

She reached the dress shop and saw her aunt sitting down in one of the chairs that was in the waiting room. She gave her a huge hug.

"So good news, I presume?"

"Very good news, Auntie. Dad left me an opera house in Paris, France! He also left me eight million euros to fix it up and all his physical possessions to sell," she said in a rushed voice.

"Wonderful! Are you gonna go over there and fix it up?"

"Yes, I am. I think I'm going to go in two weeks. Give the theater some time to find replacement," she said to her aunt as they walked into the store.

"Oh. I forgot to tell you. They terminated your job. They left a message on the phone this morning. I'm so sorry, sweetheart, I didn't want to tell you but you needed to know," her aunt said, pulling her into a hug.

Belle pulled her aunt by the shoulders back.

"This is wonderful! I can go to France sooner than I planned!" She jumped in the middle of the store, and the clerk looked at her strange.

"Can I help you ladies with something?" The clerk had asked.

"Actually, you can. It's my niece's birthday and I want to get her a formal dress for her trip to France for her special occasions. We need a professional's opinion," Aunt Mary said to the clerk.

"Gladly. Let me bring you to the section of the store," she said, leading them to the back of the store.

"Thank you so much for my dresses. You didn't have to get me both of them," Belle said to her aunt, walking to the car.

"You need something nice to wear tonight. Your uncle and I are taking you out to dinner."

She was beaming from ear to ear. Nothing could break her happy streak that was happening to her today. It was certainly justified for all the things that she had gotten as a child from her drunken father. She was leaving the United States and she was going to be in France for as long as she can keep this opera house going.

"Come along sweetheart. Place your dressed in the car. We still have to get you shoes, and one final thing, a mask," her aunt opened the door to the car and had pushed the seat forward.

Belle put the dressed on the back seats, laying them down flat.

"What do you mean by a mask?"

"It's custom in French tradition to have a masquerade, sweetie. You need to have one to get the support of the high end rich people to support you," she said to her, shutting the door and locking the car.

"Huh, I learned something new," she said, walking back to the shoe shop.

Belle and her aunt walked into the restaurant and met up with her uncle.

"Hello ladies, how was your shopping day? I see that my niece is wearing a beautiful new dress," he said to her, wrapping his arm around his wife's waist.

"I did," she said, her smile beaming up at her.

"Wonderful. Someone is here to see you," he said to her as they walked back to the table. Her head was down as they walked to the table. When she lifted her head, she looked up to the table and saw a young woman about her age.

"ROSE!" She ran over to her and gave her a huge hug.

"Nice to see you too, Belle. Happy Birthday," she said, hugging her best friend back.

"What are you doing here?" The both of them sat down at the table.

"Your aunt and uncle wanted to surprise you and they contacted me a month ago. They told me that your birthday was coming up and that they wanted me to come and visit you. I told them that I couldn't refuse and I hopped on a plane and here I am," she explained.

Belle turned to her adoptive caretakers and thanked them.

"So what is France like?"

"Wonderful! You should come and visit," Rose said to her.

Belle smiled and winked at her aunt.

"Well, Belle, just got an opera house from her father's will in Paris, so she'll be living there," Aunt Mary had piped up.

"That's great! When are you leaving?"

"Well, I'm not sure. I'm thinking within the week. I have to have a garage sale and sell my father's possessions and the big pieces I have here and order tickets. It was gonna be three weeks, but my job was terminated apparently," Belle said.

Rose smiled at her best friend.

"I'll help you get everything together. Your aunt and uncle invited me to stay for the week anyways," she said.

Belle pulled her into a hug.

"Thank you. That would be wonderful!"

"Belle, how much for the courier cabinet?" Rose asked her from the other side of the front yard.

"It should say how much on it. If not start at fifty dollars," Belle shouted back to her.

"How much have you made, sweet pea?" Her uncle asked her, carrying out a glass of lemonade for her and Rose.

"So far, I got $2,000. It works out perfectly because that will be Rose's and my flight back to France with a little to spare," Belle said, taking a sip of lemonade.

"I'm glad. Do you have your packing in order and your papers?" Her aunt asked, placing another $10 in the box of cash.

"Got them taken care of yesterday, after we cleaned the furniture," she replied, taking money from a little girl for a doll that she had when she was only five.

"It seems you got everything taken care of for your flight. You're leaving tomorrow, then?" Her aunt asked her, sipping on some of her husband's lemonade.

"Yeah, we're going to buy tickets when we get there. It makes it easier. I don't have to worry about any appointments for awhile," Belle responded.

"Well, that's everything," Rose said, handing Belle $30 from the courier cabinet.

"Wonderful! Everything sold! Aunt Mary, Uncle Patrick, please do me the honor of taking at least some money for Rose's flight here," Belle offered to them.

"Nonsense! Belle, you are more our daughter than our niece. We knew what your father left behind for you. We wanted you safe and sound. Rose was doing us the favor by coming here and then flying back with you," her aunt said, hugging her love around the shoulders and standing next to him.

"The money you raised in selling your things and your father's things use towards food when you get there. We sent some construction workers that were over there ahead and fixed up the residential suites and got the permit required for you and Rose to live in the Opera Populaire," her uncle said to her, sipping on more lemonade.

"You guys have been so good to me!" Belle exclaimed and pulled them into a huge hug. She started to cry and felt blessed for a family that loved her so much no matter what.

The next morning Belle woke up at five in the morning, and met everyone in the kitchen with her bags fully packed.

"Good morning," she said, yawning.

"Good morning, mon petit aventurier," her uncle kissed her head as her aunt scurried around, talking to herself.

"Do you girls have your papers? Bags are packed, I see. Do you have your carry on filled with underwear? Oh Bellewe'…" her aunt said in only one breath.

"Dear, relax. It's time to let go. She needs to do this. She's got everything. Both of them got everything," he grabbed her shoulders gently and looked her in the eye. She took a deep breath.

"Alright then, into the car we go," she said, grabbing the keys that were on the counter.

"Call us when you land so we know you are safe," Belle's uncle gave her a big hug.

"I will. Thank you, dad," she said to him, still in the embrace.

They pulled away and she turned to her aunt Mary who was crying so hard, that it broke Belle's heart. Belle didn't want to make her cry.

"Aunt Mary, you have to let me go. I'll be okay," she said. She sucked up her tears and put on a strong face.

"I know. I love you, my dear. Take care of yourself. If you need anything, you call me and write us letters if you can't get to a phone."

"I love you both," Belle said giving them a hug.

"International Flight 475 from Albany to France is now boarding," the intercom said.

"Time for us to go. Thank you so much for taking me in and loving me," she said picking up her bags and heading into the loading dock.

They nodded as she turned around and walked forward with her best friend on to the loading dock and into her journey into the past.

"This city is beautiful!" Belle said in awe with her face pressed against the window of the cab.

"Wait till you have the food. So much better than American cuisine," Rose said to her, sighing contently.

"I'm so excited to see the place. I wonder what it looks like," She said out loud.

In her head, her mind yearned to know if the ghost was real or not. Her mind was still reeling from her six-hour flight where she did nothing but read Gaston's tale for the umpteenth time. Her creative mind then started to ask questions and jump to conclusions based upon his existence.

'I bet he's gentle yet protective of what he deems his. This could mean he's greedy but also giving. He probably knows the best music and he's loving. My perfect man, too bad he isn't real.'

She sighed as the cab took a turn down a side street and a café was busy and filled with people.. Suddenly, the cab stopped and Belle gasped.

No longer boarded up but still dusty, Belle gawked at the external beauty.

"I can't believe this is mine," her words were breathy and silent.

"Well, Come on then. Let's go inside," Rose's words interrupted Belle's indulgence in the ecstasy of the beautiful architect that stood in front of her.

The archways that flattered the windows were carved and crafted to show exquisite detail of flowers in the masonry. The windows were then framed with gold, shimmering in the warm sun. The third story windows were different than that of the second and the same with the first floor. The doors were beautifully arched with designs of the drama masks and music notes carved in.

Rose was already inside, running and leaving Belle in the dust. Belle shook her head and asked the taxi cab driver for a hand bringing in their bags. He nodded, understanding English perfectly, and started to help Belle drag the bags inside the Opera Populaire.

Once inside, Belle's head started to pound keeping up with her racing heart. This was a palace, not a theater. She placed the bag on the floor and heard a saw buzzing and hammers knocking on wood down the hall. It must have been the construction workers still working on the place.

She shook off the noise as best as she could as it echoed through the halls and paid the cabby his fair and a large tip for his troubles and he scurried out the door. She shrugged it off and started her way up the stairs.

A strange feeling of déjà vu overcame her as she climbed up the welcoming staircase. The decorations that surrounded her gave the Victorian vibe, dating this place around the late 1890's. That was Belle's guess at least.

Her past seemed more familiar to her as she gently caressed the unknown masked statue's face that stood midway up the stairs. Her face stunned with horror as the sheet cascaded down and around her hips, revealing her breasts and frozen in time.

Belle studied the mysterious heroine as she held between her fingers. Between the two beautiful women, there was a harmonious relationship growing. Belle could feel her heart swell with fulfillment and purpose as she related herself to this art piece. It was certainly an interesting thought of how she could be like this marbled carved woman but it's something she shook away quickly.

"There's more to see. Keep moving forward," she whispered as she turned her head away with her eyes shut.

This was only one of the many golden objet d'art that filled this obtrusive lobby that welcomed its new owner and the accompanying unknown past that haunted her. She figured inheriting this place was luck, coincidence or fate and at twenty-one years of age.

This place had seen performances of her mother in the olden days when she was alive. She only had a few minor memories of her mom's singing voice of when she was only a baby, serenading her to sleep. She missed her mom even though she was barely a year old when her mom was killed.

Her feet carried her through to the performance area and her desire to have the echoing of her mom's voice filling the halls and her heart once again, but realized soon that this dream was near to impossible.

She looked at the grand staircase and saw two sides with red carpet and golden rails. She had to get some maids in here to professionally clean this place up.

Her head turned around every corner, trying to find Rose. She knew one place where she could be: the stage. If only she knew where that was.

She climbed the stairs and took the staircase that was to her right and pursued her search for her best friend. She walked down the hall, took and entered the first door on her immediate left.

Her face was met with a cloud of dust particles. She coughed and waved them away with her hand, revealing a beautiful scene in front of her. The auditorium was filled with multiple rows of chairs, parting on both sides by the middle aisle filled with the same red plush carpet.

She looked up and saw Rose standing on the stage, staring up into the rafters. She had her head tilted to the side as Belle snuck up behind her. With her breath steady, Belle climbed on stage as with poise and silence and was about to tap Rose on the shoulder when Rose said: "Good try, Belle. I could hear you the whole time."

Belle's shoulders sagged with sadness, as did her face.

"I should have known better with you. What had your interest anyways?" Her head went up in the direction where Rose's was.

"I thought I saw something up there, but who knows? My mind plays tricks on me when I'm hungry," Rose said calmly.

"Well, I thought you could show me the town, since you've lived here since we were six," Belle said, still gawking up at the dark rafters. She kept eyes in the same point, not moving, and that's when she saw it, a white half mask in the darkness. She quickly glanced away.

"Good point. I have two favorite restaurants, minus the café next door, which I work at for money. What do you feel like having?"

"Well you did nothing but brag about the food on the plane ride here, so I'll try some French Cuisine," Belle said, pointing her pointer finger straight into the air. She giggled at herself afterwards for her stupid gesture and movement.

"Sounds good. I'm gonna find something nice to wear. It's a nicer restaurant. I suggest you do the same," she said, jumping off stage.

"Yeah, you go ahead. I'm gonna look around this place some more. See what I exactly need to do for renovations in the money making part at least. Make a reservation for the earliest time in the next two hours or so and also, talk to the construction workers and find out if we both having working showers or bathtubs."

"Okay. Do you care which room you have?" Rose asked.

"I would love to have the first room on the right. The big one, if that's okay."

Rose nodded and hung her.

"What?"

"Go figure you'd pick the room that was just like Christine Daae's room," Rose started to walk up the aisle to the doors.

Belle just smiled to herself. She knew which room it was and wondered if the two-way mirror was inside. She shook her head as she paced around the stage.

The woodwork on the stage was stable witch each step. That wasn't enough for Belle to be sure though. She pulled out her headphones that were in her pocket and put on a song of classical musical by Wolfgang.

She twirled lightly on one foot and started to hum out the notes that were played. When the music jumped up from quiet to loud, she jumped and twirled in mid-air, the floor catching her weight without bending.

She pulled out her headphones and smiled. The floor was perfect and newer than the rest of the opera house. She wondered why that was and looked around and saw a new sound system in the back with brand new Boise surround sound. This wasn't as abandoned as she thought or someone had been in here before.

She started to look over her shoulder in fear as the goose bumps crawled up on to her skin from the base of her spine.

She cringed in the cold air as it hit the back of her neck.

She stood up tall and said: "Phantom, if you are there, show yourself! I won't cause you harm."

She stood in the middle of the stage unsure of what would happen.

She waited a few minutes and sighed heavily. Perhaps the phantom didn't exist. Erik could only be a figment of her imagination after reading the tale and seeing the musical so many times.

As she began to walk off stage, she heard a rustling of cloth. With hesitation, she turned around slowly and was met with a white half mask.

Chapter Two

The half mask soon became a full face. The side that was able to show emotion was hard but soft with wonderment. His eyes was straight at her with stillness that was enchanting yet spine tingling.

She started to take steps backwards slowly, ending up against the edge of the stage wall. She jumped at the sudden hard surface behind her and the encounter with it.

"I'm here. Can I help you with something, mademoiselle?"

His voice was still and calm with his face only a few inches away from hers. His eyes stared down into her eyes while she stared back at his own. Her face filled with surprise.

"I…I can't believe it. You're real," she said softly.

"Did you expect anything else? Why are you here anyways?" He pulled away from her face and paced a few steps backwards. His head cocked to the side, his eyesight never leaving her face as his finger traced his finger.

"I-I didn't know. I-I hoped you were r-real. I-I'm now the owner of th-this place," she said, stepping away from the wall.

His face was deep in contemplation.

"Do you know anything about music or running a theater?" His face was vacant of any emotion.

"My music taste varies but I prefer classical like Mozart and Beethoven and I was manager of my movie theater for two years before I learned of my inheritance of this place," she seemed to relax a little bit more.

He sighed. "That's enough to give you a chance, I suppose. Understand this though, you will know about anything that I dislike."

"Oh, please tell me," her tone was sarcastic. She laughed right after wards.

"What is so funny?"

"You. You think you threaten me. I know what you're capable of and it doesn't scare me. This is my place; I run it the way I wanna run it. I have a bachelor's degree in business management that I earned since I graduated out of high school two years early. Good try, monsieur, but you'll know if I want your opinion," she said.

His face became filled with fury as his body stiffened straight. Never had anyone told him off before especially to his face.

"You are quite fascinating, mademoiselle. I wish to know your name," he asked her, befuddled by what he should next.

"My name is Belle Reign Case. I'm 21 years old and have been waiting to meet you, sir," she said bowing to him.

"I see. Why did you want to meet a monster?" His tone was filled with astonishment. This young woman made his heart pound more and more. He was a man that loved the hunt, more than people he was chasing usually. Her tone and attitude made him want her more than he would ever lead on.

"If you're anything like what they say you are in the stories, you, good sir, fascinate me with your intellect and borderline craziness," she paced around him, scanning him up and down. From what she saw, he did fit the description well enough only in more modern day clothes.

"You're quite the person, Miss Case. Please, let me know if there is anything I can help you with at time. I would love to teach you the things I know about music and the arts," he waved his hands around in a cocky manner and continued. "I have been in this opera house for centuries, so I have seen and heard my share of what's classic versus what is modern."

She stood and contemplated what he said for only a brief few moments. Centuries? Had it been that long that he was trapped in one place?

"This means your immortal?" Her eyes perked up with curiosity.

"Yes it does. Since you know of my, well… condition. You should also know that I was also cursed to live forever. I can't die of natural causes, if something should interrupt my life, like say a bullet, then it would take a month to kick in," his tone was straight and even, unlike that of his wildly beating heart.

Not only was this young woman exceptionally beautiful, she had this free spirit with wit and charm. His perfect woman minus one thing: could she sing? If she could sing, this woman had to be his. He knew he would stop at nothing to get her. He smiled sweetly to himself, ignoring the young woman that stood with a tapping foot.

"Hello? Did you hear me?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. No, I didn't. What did you say?" He focused back into reality.

She sighed but repeated herself anyways. "I would love to learn from you."

Both of their hearts were rushing, filling with hope and optimistism. Secretly, they wanted each other but they were not going to say anything of the matter. It went against all logic that they had to say anything since they just met.

"Very well. I'll fetch you in the evenings and bring you down with me to my living quarters. Let's make it seven for the next month every night. If something comes up, please let me know ahead of time," he took her hand in his own that were covered with leather and placed a gently kiss upon it. Belle's face became beat red.

"I can't wait, but I must go. I have a friend who is waiting for me. I will meet you tonight. I'm staying in the first soprano's bedroom," she flitted off the stage, yelling the last line and running out the doors.

She caught her breath briefly outside the auditorium doors, her hand on her chest with it collapsing and building with breath. She knew it was because of her encounter with her dream man. Too bad she didn't get to see his whole face yet. Even if she were to never be with this man, she was satisfied in learning from him every night for a month.

She walked forward, after grasping a hold on her breath, and made her way towards the dormitories.

"There you are! I've been looking for you everywhere. What's the damage in the auditorium?" Rose said to her from behind, making Belle jump. Rose giggled at her reaction.

"Gee, did you have to sneak up on me like that? Damage is none. Been restored and new stereo system has been put in. Must have been my aunt and uncle. Only thing needed is some maids to clean up the dust, some talent, minimum wage workers to take care of the ticket sales, technicians, and a crowd to pay for a show, but otherwise, looks like we are all set," Belle stood outside her bedroom now, walking down the noisy hall with Rose.

"Great. I talked with the head construction manager. He said plumbing is in all rooms, approved and all. It applies with the electrical wiring, as well. He says you owe him nothing because the government is paying for it due to some grant that got approved. He did want to chat to you though and wonder if you had any remodeling plans for the place," Rose said to her. She tucked her blond bangs behind her ear.

"I'm gonna kill my aunt and uncle! They did way too much. I like the place the way that it is, might get some newer technology in here though. The computer in this place is from the 1980's," she said.

Rose just smiled to herself and nodded.

"Perhaps we should go shopping for such equipment tomorrow. This way I can show you true Paris," her accent went up on the last word.

Belle shook her head.

"Can't. I have to meet with the government tomorrow morning at nine. Maybe afterwards. They have to look over my résumé and see that I qualify. Otherwise, back to the U.S. for me. Did you make plans for dinner?" Her hand was on her doorknob.

"I did. We have reservations for four, which is in two hours. I figured you and I should go shopping in about forty-five minutes. This way we can catch up and all that. Also, we need furniture. We have no beds to sleep on," Rose said.

Belle smacked her head in frustration. Of all the things, she forgot to get furniture for the bedrooms and dormitories.

"Alright. Go in your room, determine what you would like for a paint scheme and such and let me know what you would like. Also, if you could help me with determining what the other rooms look like, that would be great. I'm gonna go into mine and see what I got to work with. I'll meet you again here in twenty-five minutes. Whatever you figure out, will be fine," she said, opening the door to her room.

"Sounds good. I'll try my best," Rose turned on her heal and walked down the hall.

Belle sighed, closed the door, and found the light switch. She flicked it on and found that her room was completely filled with furniture. It was antique furniture; even the bed frame was antique. There was a courier cabinet, a dresser, a foldout curtain for changing, and even a desk.

She walked over to the desk and found a white envelope with a wax seal of a skull on it. She knew whom it was from, and immediately opened it.

'Dearest Belle,

I took the liberty of decorating your room for you as well as the rest of the opera house. I hope you both find it pleasing enough to your tastes. The mirror that is to your right will be the way to reach me if there is ever an emergency. Keep in mind that you may be strong willed, I'm still a proper, old-fashioned gentleman who will do what is necessary to protect a woman in such social standings.

Sincerely,

The Phantom

P.S. Our first meeting is tonight. Please be prepared to sing.'

Sing? He wanted her to sing? She hadn't sung anything since she was five to anyone but herself.

Pale from worry, she placed the note on the desk and withered onto the chair that accompanied the desk. She loved the room, but not the price she had to pay for it. A red rose with a black ribbon tied around it was on the desk next to the note. How had he done that so quickly? It had only been thirty minutes from their encounter.

A sudden knock came to the door.

"Come in," Belle said.

Rose came in, shocked and pale.

"You okay?"

Rose sat on her bed, shaking her head with wonderment.

"My room. It's fully furnished. It wasn't when I bathed earlier. The construction manager also told me that only yesterday the rest of the whole opera house had no furniture, but today when he did his last checks of what still needed to be done, they were fully furnished," she said, lying on the bed.

Belle broke out into a loud laughter. Holding her rose with her right had, limp at her body, she got up from the chair and sat on the bed.

"Rose, it's okay. We're gonna be fine. We got an angel looking over us," she said, placing the next to her ear.

Rose turned her face and sat up suddenly.

"You can't be serious? He exists, but how? I don't understand. He would be centuries old," she said, twirling the rose in her finger.

"And he doesn't look that bad either. Looks good for an old man," Belle said, under her breath.

"I heard that!"

Rose jumped at the male voice that came from behind the mirror. Belle's face became red as The Phantom appeared in the mirror. Rose gasped from shock, but then laughed at how red Belle's face was.

Belle walked over to the mirror and slid it open, letting The Phantom in.

"Hello monsieur. How did we manage to get graced with this lovely visit?" Belle said to him, sitting in her chair.

"I thought you ladies would like the furniture I've been saving for many years, since modern stuff is lower than disgusting. Plus, I need to meet your friend," he glanced over at Rose, who was sitting on the bed.

His face went cold, stiff in mid-moment. Something was familiar about her face. She had a certain déjà vu to her appearance, but he couldn't figure it out.

"Oh, of course, where are my manners? Phantom, say hello to Miss. Rose Da Chagny, Rose this is the infamous Opera ghost. She's been my best friend since kindergarten."

"Nice to meet you, phantom," Rose's face was now still. She grabbed his left leathered hand and shook it.

"As of you. You remind me of someone but I can't place who," he said. His hand was still grasping hers.

She shrugged as Belle looked at her. She pulled her hand away.

"Ah, it doesn't matter. Do you ladies find your rooms fitting?"

Belle's face lit up as attention his face went back to hers. His blue eyes stared into her dark blue ones, making her knees shake slightly underneath her.

"I love mine," Rose said.

"That was the furniture that was originally in there, same for all the rooms, minus the mattress. Those are new. I rebuilt the furniture from scratch in my free time. I did most restoration on my own. The rest I left little plans behind for the construction workers to find, making them believe that it was the manager's idea. He loved it and just took the credit for it," he said, shaking his head.

Belle looked around her room, really looking at the furniture. It was stable and strong, not to mention beautiful.

"How about your room, miss beauty?"

Belle blushed and looked at him with a quizzical look.

"Your name is French. Your first name means "beauty". Did your parents have French descent?" The Phantom told her.

"I'm assuming so, this was left to me by my father. My mother's maiden name was Barbezac. I only know that because I was in my aunt and uncle's wedding when I was twelve," she said to the both of them.

"You mean you don't know your parents?"

Belle's face filled with melancholy as her went back and forth.

"My mother was killed when I was one and my dad died when I was eight due to kidney failure. He was an alcoholic and an abusive one at that."

Rose shook her and tisked at her friend's misfortune.

"I'm sorry. If I had known, I wouldn't have brought it up," his eyes traveled the floor.

"It's all right, Better to know now and not later," Belle glanced over at her clock. It read 3:15 pm.

"Uh… I'm gonna need to bathe now if we wanna make our reservation, Rose. Please both of you are welcome to stay in here and chat," she said, going to her suitcase and grabbing some clothes.

She bent down to Rose's ear and cuffed her hand around it and whispered into her ear: "Find out his feelings for me, please. Thanks for bringing in my suitcase."

She nodded and winked at Belle as she went into the bathroom.

In the cab ride, Belle's face wasn't as pressed against the window as it was earlier that day, but she still was astonished by the city.

"What did he say?" Belle asked her, taking her eyes off the city for a few minutes

"Well, let us talk about it over dinner. I'd like to get there first," she responded to her.

The cab pulled up to the restaurant, where the Mademoiselles got out, paid the man for his services, and walked up to the maitre' d.

"Bonjour, Avez-vous Mesdames avez une réservation?"

Belle looked at him with cocked eyebrows. She may be in her possible home country, but she still didn't know the language.

"I got this," Rose whispered, "Je suis désolée monsieur, mais parlez-vous anglais?"

"Oh, of course I do. My apologies. I asked if you ladies had a reservation," he said to her.

"Yes we do, its under Case," Rose said to him.

He checked them off and led them to their table and they took their seats parallel to each other. Rose thanked him in French as he left to go back to his post.

"So, what did he say?" Belle asked not even picking up her menu.

"He sees potential in you with the opera house but he said he wants to hear you sing. Otherwise, he swore me to secrecy," Rose said, glancing at her menu.

Belle mouth fell open, making the perfect O shape.

"You're cruel," she said to her and pouting.

"No, I'm not. I'm just not a traître or a traitor. I keep secrets, ma très chère amie," Rose said to her.

"Ooh, I know that phrase. That's 'my dearest friend,' right?"

Rose nodded.

"Yay! I know a little French," Belle said, doing a small dance of victory at the table.

After dinner, the two friends caught up, doing their shopping in the famous Place d'Aligre market, they headed back to their new home and unpacked their findings.

Belle placed the food in the kitchen, with speed and accuracy and then got to her clothes.

"What has you in such a rush? We were only gone two hours," Rose said to her.

"I'm meeting him at seven," Belle said, unpacking the fruit in the large fridge.

"I see. Go then. Get yourself ready. I got this," Rose said to her, pushing her out of the way.

"Thank you!" Belle hugged her best friend and ran up the side stairs into her bedroom.

"You're welcome," Rose shouted after her.

The clock now dinged 7:00pm and Belle was sitting on her bed, twiddling her thumbs with anticipation. Her eyes were shining with a little bit of make-up done and complimenting her silver studs that she bought just half-an hour earlier. Her hair was done in nice ringlets and cascaded around her neck, which decorated her beautiful choker that was now a week old on her neck.

She touched the choker and it shocked her fingers slightly. She jumped and wondered why it did that. She knew that it wasn't a normal shock that one usually gets, but more of a tingling shock.

"Hello Miss Belle, you look ravishing. You ready for your lesson?" The Phantom had shown himself in the two-way mirror and pushed the barrier aside.

"Thank you and yes I am," she said, getting off her bed.

She walked closer to him as a intoxicating and seductive smell tickled her nose, making her lose all sense of her environment and causing her to trip on her own two feet.

The Phantom caught her next to his chest, and she breathed him in. He was the one that smelled so good. She nuzzled her nose up to his chest as inhaled the scent, loosing her footing.

The Phantom pulled her closer to him. He did like the hunt, but he loved this more. He soon noticed that her feet were slipping and grabbed her from under her knees and carried her bridal style down the hallway, closing the mirror behind him.

Unaware of how she was moving, Belle's nose was still inhaling the scent getting as close to the man's fancy clothes as possible. Then it became less potent to her, until warmth covered her exposed arms. The smell was back and she laid down wherever she was and continued to inhale the scent.

She awoke hours later to music being played and wondered where it was coming from. She looked around her and noticed that she was covered in sheets and lying in a bed. She blushed as her thoughts caught up and made her wonder if this is where he slept.

She sat up suddenly, her eyes darting around the room, looking for the Phantom.

Noticing how dark it was with the curtain that over was over where she lay, she found a rope and pulled on it. The curtain went up with one tug and she was able to get out of the ovular bed.

She looked straight ahead and saw him, sitting at his grand piano. The dark cold place was lit by candles, making it slightly warmer and lighter, and certainly easier to see. Her footsteps made their way to the masked man, who was plunking on his piano, and a pen in his hand.

The music stopped and his face came to see hers. His eyes gleamed in the candlelight that surrounded the two of them. Belle smirked and sat down next to the masked man.

"What time is it?" She yawned and stretched.

"It's only 8 p.m. I wouldn't have let you slept past 7 a.m. You ready to sing for me?" His fingers placed the pen on top of the organ. He interlaced his fingers and outstretched his arms, cracking his fingers in the process.

"Maybe I should warm up first," she suggested to him. Her body sank into itself as nerves started to take over. Her voice was coy and innocent.

"That would be good. Do you know your singing range?" His fingers lightly graced the piano keys.

"I believe I'm an alto. It's been years since I've sung though. Please try not to force me if I don't feel comfortable enough to," she said, her voice still shaky. She touched one of her curls with her fingers and twirled it.

"If it doesn't happen tonight, then it will happen soon enough. Don't fret, my little Belle, it will come all due with time," his tone was reassuring to her. She might be able to sing.

His fingers started at the lower keys and then worked their way up. Her voice didn't come out the first time. She sighed with disappointment. He started again after a brief pause.

Her vocal chords started to vibrate, hitting the notes with as much accuracy as she could.

He sat back, with a smile stretching across his face. She could sing and what an amazing deep voice.

"Well? How was I?" Her head tucked between her shoulders and her voice was coy yet again.

"You, my dear, are a contralto with a modern twist. So, I'm guessing a Lyric Contralto with a dramatic undertone. You're voice is capable of many things. You need some polishing but certainly I'm quiet impressed," he said looking at her.

Her head lifted up and a shine came to her eyes. "Really? Is that a good thing?"

The phantom just laughed, knowing only what this meant. Belle hung her head in defeat.

"You are considered a rare talent, Belle. Contraltos are only a commodity today with the right tone," he placed his fingers back on the piano.

Belle smiled and looked at him, her eyes shining with happiness.

"I would love some lessons, if you think you can teach me," she said to him. Her fingers twiddled and her eyes got wide with hope and desire.

"Gladly. I'd love to polish up your voice. But I think that should wait for another night. Now let us begin your music and theater history lesson," he said getting up from the piano. He walked over to the bookshelf that was in the corner of the layout and pulled out a few books. He flipped through a few pages and cleared his throat.

"We will begin with the tenth century and work our way up to modern day. Tonight's lesson will be short. Only going to introduce you to types of songs that modernize the time period and then I will bring you back up. Although, I will need more than a month," he said, pacing and holding the book in his hand.

Belle watched the man with eager eyes from the bench. His long lean legs paced back and forth and turned around, making his backside turn to her. She blushed every time her eyes drifted to his nicely shaped buttocks, but quickly pulled them up to his eyes.

"I have no problem with that. I just hope the government approves of me running this place at the meeting tomorrow," her head drifted down towards the ground.

Erik stopped in mid pace, shut the book, and quickly walked over to her. He placed the book on the ground, placed his index finger under her chin and lifted her face up to meet his.

"Tell them this one thing and you are sure to get approved. 'The performances will be the greatest of the time that will certainly rejuvenate the economy and I will make certain that all of them is to the highest quality possible.' You should win them with that."

Their eyes were still staring into each other's. It was hard for them to break the electrical current passing through them.

"Thank you. Should I call you 'phantom' always or is there something else I can call you by?" She broke the bolt as fast as it was made.

"You may call me Erik. As long as I get to call you whatever I wish," he said, standing up and walking away.

"As long as you don't call me your property, your whore, or anything demeaning as that, I have no problem with whatever you wish to call me," she said, keeping her beliefs strong in check.

"Then we have a deal my dear. Let us begin your lesson," he said, opening the book as he went over the key parts of the time period. Belle smiled as listen contently at Erik's whimsical speaking voice. He had such a passion and it certainly showed.

Chapter Three

Belle woke up early the next morning, reeling in the events that had happened yesterday. Her flight from the states to Paris, her shopping day with Rose, and ending with a wonderful evening filled with music history teaching from Erik. She smiled at the thought of Erik and his wondrous voice speaking about the sounds of the 1100's.

She got out of bed and sighed happily. She knew she had to get ready for the day and get graced with a possible denial from the government. She kept repeating the line silently to herself, with her fingers and hands waving back and forth. She walked into the bathroom, bathed and came back out fully clothed in her best business suit.

She ran out of the house to meet her cab to go to the meeting, Nervous with her body shaking, she gripped her brief case tight with both hands. She took a deep breath and told herself that she got this.

She returned to the Opera Populaire, grinning from ear to ear. This place was officially hers. She couldn't wait to tell Rose the good news. On her way back to the theater, she had stopped at few places that offered cleaning help and she hired the appropriate help to clean up the place.

She darted inside, her high heels clicking on the paved road, and she burst through the door and screamed happily. She started to dance around happy, humming the latest song by Lady Gaga. She stopped immediately by Rose standing there with Erik smiling.

She was red with embarrassment and laughed awkwardly. She smiled while picking up her suitcase that she flung halfway across the room and that skidded on the floor.

"It's mine, officially. They have faith in me to run this place. They said that I'm very professional and this is what France needs to bring tourists back into this place," she said to them.

"That's wonderful, Congratulations! Now, we to get technology updated in this place," Rose said to her, embracing her into a hug.

"We can go out later and take care of that. Let me get out of these binding business clothes and into something comfortable. Erik, please excuse us," Belle said to him, nodding to him.

"Certainly. I'm so glad for you. Be warned though, it will become mine," Erik said, starting to walk away.

Belle just snickered and decided to keep silent.

Rose walked over to Belle and whispered into her ear: "We should invite him to come along. He might want to get out of here."

"Good idea," she whispered back and then said: "Erik, would you like to join us today?"

He turned on his heel and faced the two young ladies that stood patiently in the hallway of the dormitories. He sighed happily.

"I would love to but how am I to go out without being noticed?"

Rose smacked her head in disbelief with her palm. Belle just looked at him. She had forgotten about his "condition" as he called it, but she doubted that it was that bad. Her frown soon curled up in the corners of her mouth and a sly smile graced her face. She had an idea. She glanced over to Rose, who had the same look, and the both of them nodded.

"How opposed are you to make-up, sir?" Rose asked, grabbing his arm.

The girls giggled as they moved their hands quickly around his face. Each of them works diligently to get the man looking somewhat normal, his eyes were closed and he was trusting.

This is only after an hour of arguing with him to let them take off his mask and when they saw his face, they merely smiled and saw it as a challenge to make him a 'normal' human being. Belle secretly thought he was the most hansom man she had ever seen, but she was never going to let the man know that.

They pulled away; satisfied at the job they had done and gave each other a high five.

"Nice work, ladies," Erik grasped the mirror, admiring his face in different angles. What he had deemed as a disgrace was now covered and beautiful.

He cocked an eyebrow at the girls as he placed the mirror back on Belle's vanity.

"If you could do this well on me, what do you ladies look like without make-up?"

"You'll never know," Belle said and Rose nodded with content.

"We'll see. Well it would seem that I'm ready to go. Are you ready ladies?"

"What time is it?" Rose glanced at the clock and her eyes grew wide.

"I'm sorry dear friends, but I have to go. I have to be somewhere in town in ten minutes to catch up with someone. It looks like it will be just the two of you."

Rose glanced over at Erik and winked.

"If you must go, then go. Don't worry; we'll go another day. I know what I need to get," Belle said.

Rose nodded and ran out the door, leaving Belle and Erik in the room alone.

"Monsieur, you must give me fifteen minutes to get ready. I will be ready to go in that time, please give me some privacy until then."

He bowed his head and left the room. She had the room to herself for a few minutes and grabbed her clothes and got dressed.

Erik stood outside the door, pacing and twiddling his fingers. When the door finally opened, a ravishing woman came out of Belle's bedroom. He looked at the door and back with a look of astonishment. This is couldn't be Belle.

She blushed and ducked her head in her shoulders while tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. A shy smile graced her face and her eyes were shining against the sparkling, low cut tank top. Her nicely pressed skirt and heels made her legs lean and long.

"You ready?" She walked up next to him. Her smiled was beaming and her eyes bright and shiny.

I am. You look ravishing. Simply ravishing," his blue eyes were shining down at her, only two inches of a difference, but still enough that he has to bend down.

"Thank you. Let us pursue France and it's marvelous riches," she said. He offered her his arm and the linked arms with smiles on their faces.

In the marketplace, the shops were filled with people bartering in French over the latest goods. Belle just stared in wonder at the beautiful language that graced their tongues and that she yearned to learn someday.

"You don't speak French, do you?" His head leaned into her ear.

Her face perked up with surprise at his quick statement. She shook her head to confirm his inquiry that she didn't speak French.

"Would you like to learn?"

Her face lit up and she stood in front of him. Her eyes were bright and shining while his heart melted like candle wax.

"You know French? I would love to learn if you're willing to teach. I must warn you though, I'm not good with linguistics."

Her head hung low after the last statement. He carefully slid his pointer finger under her chin and said: "Madame, it would be my honor to teach you. We'll do it after your music history lessons. Come along now, little Belle, we have things to get to give this city and world some culture of mention."

She smiled and hummed the song from earlier that morning as they pursued the rest of the city.

She collapsed on to her, sighing heavily and with her feet hanging over the edge of the bed. Her bags full with the goodies that she found through out the day were scattered around her room. Erik sat in the chair that was covered with flowered textile and massaged his temples with eyes closed.

"That was quite a day, wasn't it Erik?"

"Yes it was, but you got everything done, right?"

"That I did. I was even able to post the help wanted fliers around the city. Thank you so much for your help today. I had a lot of fun," she sat up, looking at Erik.

The make-up had come off his face, revealing his blistered face. He didn't know that his bumps were revealed now and carried himself with an arrogance but still demure in his nature.

He glowed and his suave nature became more debonair as he collected himself up on to his feet. Belle's eyes were glued to his as he came closer to her bed, kneeling in front of her on both of his knees.

"I'll help you unpack your treasures and then leave you be to talk to Rose for awhile then you are to come to your lesson," he picked up her hands and kissed them. Belle's cheeks burnt up.

"You are too kind to me, sir." The stare was strong between the two of them. Nothing was going to break the current of electricity. Their faces drew closer to each other, only in attempt to get a better look into the deep lost souls that were withdrawn from the world.

Erik got up from an innocent faced Belle and took out the parcels from their bags. His back was to her, embarrassed.

She was dizzy and befuddled at these found emotions. She couldn't figure out why she was reacting this way.

She stood up while still in a stupor and helped Erik with unpacking, not mentioning the action that had happened before.

"I don't understand it though Rose, I've been with men I like before," Belle laid her head on the wooden counter of the island that stood in the middle of the gigantic white kitchen.

"Maybe you can eat something to get rid of it. Here," Rose pulled out an orange and tossed it to Belle.

Her hands embraced the flying fruit with grace and gave her a satiric smile while pushing out a sour laugh.

"I'm serious, Rose. I don't know what I'm going to do," she said, going to the phone and placing the orange on the counter.

"Ordering something?"

"I'm thinking I should. Could you order it for me due to my language barrier? Your choice," Belle said to her, handing her the phone.

"Sure. Oh, before I do, I have instructions of care from your instructor. Here," She handed the sealed envelope over to Belle.

Belle broke the seal and read the message in it.

'Rose,

For dinner tonight for you and Belle, please have Belle drink some decaffeinated green tea with honey for her voice. Also, included is a vial called Nature's Sunshine, which includes Licorice root. Please add two drops to her warm tea, she won't taste it, and if you could make sure she drinks the whole cup that would be wonderful. It will help her voice be at its fullest potential.

Deep Gratitude,

Erik.'

She sighed and placed the note on the counter, and started up the tea set that Erik had bought her earlier that day.

"Well, that makes sense on why he bought you that tea set now. Food is on its way," Rose said placing the phone back on it cradle.

"Okay. I should call my aunt and uncle now that we have a working phone."

Rose nodded as Belle dialed the phone number.

Erik grumbled in disbelief and in frustration. He rubbed his temples and paced the ground, mumbling to himself. Belle sat at the table, writing down her terms of French.

"Lets try again. Pouvez-vous parler français? "

"Oui, monsieur. Quel est…est votre nom? "

"Magnifique!" Erik exclaimed.

Belle beamed. She knew the basics of Hello and asking for name, which is more than she knew before. With that sense of achievement, the lesson continued.

"For you to learn true French, you should learn to sing in French. I won't do that to you for your first song. Do you know how to read music?"

Belle shook her head and hung it in defeat.

"Don't worry. I think you have an ear for music instead of reading it. Let us try a song. Let me think of one. Let's do something more modern, during your time period," he said.

"It's your choice, monsieur."

She sat up with a smile.

"Very well then," he started to play the notes on the piano.

He put his arms at his side and turned to face Belle. The caverns that were once bellowing with her voice were now silent, except for the occasional dripping of water that echoed off stonewalls.

He cleared his throat and choked back tears. Her voice reminded him of Christine's and he had no idea why. She wasn't a soprano.

"Belle! You amaze me! You must sing the song from the beginning," he rushed over to a corner and grabbed his acoustic guitar. He had to hear her voice that reminded him of his past. Just once more.

She looked at him puzzled and stunned that his intelligence was graced with many different talents while she barely could sing. She drew for fun, but she was never going to show that to anyone.

"I suppose I can try to again. May I ask why?"

"You may but you wont receive a response," Erik started to play the notes while she bang to sing once again.

"Alright. Now Beethoven's music over turned the Baroque period due to his deafness. Belle, are you listening?" He stopped in mid step as he glanced over at a day dreaming face.

"Huh? Oh yeah, I'm listening," she lied. Secretly, she was daydreaming about how happy she would be with Erik and staring at him as he held the book in one hand and kept a rhythmic step with his words. She was in awe.

"No, you're not. Stop daydreaming and focus on what's going on!"

He screamed. She was stunned. Never did he before yell her at in such tone.

"Stop yelling at me!" She yelled back, standing up. How dare he without him knowing her condition?

"You're not paying attention! You are unfit to run this opera house if you don't have an appreciation for music and theater! Get out of my presence you ungrateful wrench!"

Her mouth hung open in shock. What was his problem with her all of sudden?

"Fine! I'll leave!" She said in his face, on the tip of his toes and in his face. She stormed off in a huff, waving her hands in disbelief. She was distracted with the occurrences that happened that the water that was in front of her went unnoticed, and she slipped on the rock. Falling backwards, she hit the rock that was underneath her, hard, and blacked out.