Summary: I decided to write a becoming Christmas tale. Here is the summary in full, since I will only be posting a short summary on fanfic.

The snow-flakes were cold as they met my swollen lips, he held me close as my dreams were suddenly becoming my reality sooner than I expected. Pulling away, I saw the love I never thought I would see from him, but there it was plain as sunshine in his teary orbs, lusting for my confession. "I have a confession, I… I don't know when it happened, but it happened none the less." I paused, his grip on my shoulders piercing my cold skin. "I… I love you."

Also I do not own the phantom of the opera. But the plot is mine. I do not own the characters in the phantom of the opera, only Serena.

I also do not own the music that is played in this chapter. Nothing in that fashion belongs to me.

Please Read & Review!

Forever yours,

AcrobaticButterfly

Title: Frost-Bite

Prologue: The Day I Met Him.

I never intended to ever have feelings of this type of nature, for him, or for anyone. It wasn't something that decided to blow up in my face one minute and go away in the next. They were very feel and very distinct. Knowing what I knew about him, and what I wanted to tell him. Well it was a bit harder than I could describe in words. It wasn't like I wanted to go on the rest of my life wondering if I could ever tell him. I needed to tell him. It wasn't something that could wait, I needed to tell him.

I missed the spellbound music he made from his violin. I missed the drawings he made for me and left on the door step of my apartment, where I lived. Those three months would forever be imprinted into my mind. He would forever be imprinted into my brain. I truly do love him. I never wanted to be without him. But I guess to fully comprehend what I am talking about I need to let you in on the wonderful journey I needed to take to fully get inside this man's head.

Thinking about him now, he was tall six feet and seven inches to be exact, he had silvery white hair that seemed to be medium length, his eyes were the simple shade of brown green, which reminded me of mints, or trees in the snow. His nose was built like that of an aristocrat, which was drawn perfectly into his masculine jaw and chin. He was built like every woman's dream except for a few issues that would later come into play and mess with my mind and fray it like a wire. Anyway getting somewhat off track, he always wore a sweater or long shirt, and black dress pants. There was never a t-shirt in sight. Until I came around…hehe. They were always dark colors or passionate color, per say.

He wasn't the type of person that would open up fast either. His "trusting" issues got in the way whenever we tried to be friends. It didn't take long for us to get into a fight. Because he believed he knew what he wanted and what he believed, he wanted was peace and quiet, which was safe to say didn't really last long. It was either that, or he would try and get rid of me by walking me home and loosing me along the way, distracting me while leaving, leaving me inside the opera house, or completely ignore me in front of others. Way to break myself –esteem… Getting off track, this was him. He was completely and utterly in one short word, a mess, but I loved him none-the-less.

I first met Abel James Williams when I was seventeen years old.

-8-

It was an average day, like, well, every day. Still in school like every seventeen year old, and trying to make my way into the world little by little. It was snowing, in the middle of the autumn weather. The red, yellow and brown leaves becoming smitten with frost bite. It was the beginning of winter break in Otter Point, in South British Columbia. The high school was a short distance away from the coast line, where the killer whales and seals would be out every winter to migrate. It was beautiful, in a sense. The tranquility of everything around me was driving me breathless.

"Serena, come on, stop looking at the outside world, come, on concentrate." Christine's voice was somewhat fried from my wondering imagination outside. I twisted my medium/ curly brown hair around my finger as she went through the plans to getting into the Opera House, everyone including the musicians called the Theater. It was natural for Chrissy to get in since she was after all the managers daughter. But I, on the other hand, she couldn't bring in every friend she had. But she was going to very well try. Out of us both, it was safe to say she was the crazy one. Her straight blondish-red hair was short, nearly reaching her shoulders. When the sun would peak out of the clouds every once in a while the blondness of her hair would become bold and the red would seem like it was never there, acting like a ghost. She had freckles that went from side to side of her face, covering her nose in the middle as well. Her cheeks were pale milk color, which matched her skin. Her eyes were the color of deep blue sapphires, which shined the brightest in the happiest of moments. She wore clips in her hair, plowing back a mass of hair from her face and moving it to the right side of her head. It was a blue butterfly. Her clothes were blue jeans, and a very feminine sweat shirt that defined her curvy figure promptly. It was like a goddess was reincarnated into my best friend.

I on the other hand was considerably pale in comparison to her beauty. I had chocolate curly/wavy brown hair that went to the middle of my back, a dark blue scarf around my neck, which kept me nice and warm. My eyes were a reddish-brown, but innocently huge in perspective. I had a heart shaped face, my hair dangling in front of my large ears, the strands getting in the way of my sight when Christine, would turn the car going forty miles an hour on the main road, from the slush covering it. I had skin which seemed bi-polar in the winter it was extremely pale, but in the summer it would become an olive color. It was probably because I was Norwegian and Italian. I wore my black sweat pants and a long sleeve white shirt. In the back seat I had my electric guitar. I was to play a solo for Christine's, father this afternoon.

It was going to be Wizard's in Winter by Trans-Siberian Orchestra. Hopefully if he liked me I could play Carol of the Bells on my guitar as well.

It was something I was putting my endless amount of energy to work into every day after school, during school and everything around it. It was my endless passion and I wanted to see it through. Nothing in the world mattered to me more, at that very moment. It was almost like that term, putting blood and sweat, and time, into my music.

"Now, when you meet my dad, don't let his boss like behavior get to you, he is only like that during the day, at work. I mean he does own the theater, but he could be a little bit nicer on his employee's, I mean they make the orchestra, the orchestra every year." Christine tried to awake my nerves and die them down. It wasn't like I didn't take her words to heart. My mind was reeling so many different outcomes, one ending in someone shoving me outside in the snow bank as everyone laughed at me. It kind of made me want to stop this whole thing altogether.

"Chrissy, did anyone ever get kicked out of your dad's theater?" The question started to haunt my scattering brain. "I mean he can't be that mean, can he?"

"Uhm, sure." Her voice sounded a bit strained. I almost felt a bit heart-broken at her words. "He isn't the nicest of managers. Let's just say, when the mouse is working on a play, he will not stray."

Giving her a weird or confused look, I said, "Your analogies' describing your father or family in general, never makes any sense to me."

Silence filled the car as we pulled into the parking lot. It was time. Which made me want to both run away and hide, and jump for joy at the same time, "Don't worry Serena, you'll do fine, you are the greatest electric guitar player in our orchestra at school, why wouldn't you be any different' here?"

Indeed, why wouldn't I be any different? It's probably because I will be surrounded by skilled musicians twice my age, and twice the skill. I will feel like the amateur through body and soul. Nothing in this conversation is really settling my nerves, maybe I should tell Christine about it…

Shaking my head, while she stopped the car in a parking space, I looked at the scenery around me. The trees that covered the area filled the surround barrier of the parking lot. It was clearly, the woods that ruled the mountains that area where Christine's father devoted half of his time, or life away. Getting out of the car, the Cherry Red Ford Fusion, which she received for a Christmas gift last year, hearing the front doors slam, I continued to open the last remaining door. Christine was basking in the glory of her father's work.

"When we first moved here the work on this building was extensive. But it needed to be done, there wasn't any other choice, dad, he spent thousands restoring the theater in her glory." I finally turned to look at the building. It was like Christine said, I almost fell to my knee's looking at the work put into this place, and it was huge, the structure reminding me of a large castle. With four corners or towers that seemed to be blocked off for re-construction reasons, beyond belief, from flooding. Once my feet began to move, Christine followed suit behind me, I almost lost my balance several times, sliding everywhere, nearly falling on my butt she caught my arms making sure both myself and guitar case holding my soul inside wasn't going to get ruined. I needed a career, or at least an internship at the very least.

We stopped at the metal/glass doors; the decorations on the outside were over-whelming to say the least. The flowers of spring looked like they were becoming frozen with frost bite, from the winter coming to it.

"Serena, don't be alarmed, don't get over anxious, it's just an audition, just an audition." Chrissy said once more, hugging me before she opened the door, I felt the tensing in my body loosen. As the doors opened and I stepped in the wonderland of my dreams. I began to spin like it was a dream. Christine behind me was laughing. "You look like Alice in Wonderland, only, you are in the real, reality, of wonderland, and it's not in your mind."

"Hehe, heh, thanks. But, this place is amazing; your father is detailed when he wants to be." Smiling Christine walked over to me, I noticed it wasn't a glittering happy smile like she usually had; it was something short of sad, melancholy to say the least, in the least amount of words. "Speaking of your father, how is your mom doing?"

Her head sunk to look at the floor. Feeling guilty that I had pulled a string a bit hard, I moved over towards her placing my hand on her shoulder. She looked into my eyes, her orbs holding back tears.

"Look, whatever happens you know I'm here for you, I'm sure, that she's doing just fine right now." I tried to reassure her a bit, she laughed and hugged me. The embrace led to her laugh, I smiled happy that she was laughing and not crying. I shouldn't have said anything about her mother. Christine was my best friend since I was still in diapers, we've been through some hard-ships, break-ups as best friends but we always forgive one another, and we were like sisters, only from different parents. The bond was there, plain as day.

She grabbed something from her black leather bag she was carrying inside, and handed it to me, well, it was more, like a throw.

"Think of it as a present, maybe you won't be as nervous going up and preforming for the first time, for an audience. Besides it's just an audition don't fret too much about it, okay?" Christine looked at me, softness in her eyes, I put the clip into my hair, and it was giant rose hair clip, the deep red rose color glittered in the lights of the theater. Pulling back my hair on the right side, I placed the clip on the side of my head; she took out a mirror and had shown me how I looked.

"Now, you look like the little rock princess you were meant to be." I was shocked to say the least. I really did look better with the hair clip in. We walked a few more steps towards the auditorium. Hearing music from the other side, Christine, she checked if the door was unlocked, and twisting the handle she found it wasn't unlocked. We were going to take a different route. A plan I could see was already forming into her little strawberry-blonde head of hers. Grinning, like a clever fox, she started to break out in a run.

"Come on slow poke, I know, you can be faster than that." After that remark I was toe and toe with her. I followed her, as we skimmed passed the people in the hallway, she did some jumping and I flew in the air, like a little ballerina, it was a sight to see if anyone else was there from school. I didn't know whether or not I was going to make on time to my audition but it was something that I needed to take into consideration. "Serena, it's only a little ways past, through this corridor, I won't be able to go with you, but once your inside, I'll get my dad." As the door flew open a bit earlier than expected, I ended up rushing into someone's chest. Falling over, I groaned in pain, seeing that Christine had caught my guitar in midair I looked at the figure in front of me, and how disheveled he was.

His hair was covering his eyes, hunched over like a little kid with a stomach ache. He ended up groaning in pain then shifting his eyes to the case next to him. He continued on groaning this time in frustration.

"Hey, kid, next time watch out where you're going." He said in his deep mesmerizing angelic –like voice. He opened the case to see that the bridge to his violin was broken. That was when he flipped his lid. "You're paying for this! Look at the damage you caused!" He put the violin to my face as it was still pasted to the floor. I opened my eyes to see the strings of a violin and a broken bridge in my eyes.

"Look I'm sorry I ran into you, I didn't know you were coming out of the room." I tried to reason with him. His anger was now flashing at me, in a full stride he bent down to my eye level as I got up and stood feeling my back hurt like all hell. "Look, I don't really have any money right now to give you, but I can give it to you the next time I come here." If I ever come here, again, that is. I might be kicked out after this little stunt that just happened.

"Like all hell, I'm not letting this slide, I know your type," his silvery white hair cascaded with each swish or movement of his head. Christine intervened for me, handing me my guitar. I opened my case to see if anything was broken, and of course nothing really was, since she had caught it while I flew into this guy in front of us.

"Look it Abel, she wasn't doing any harm, can't you just let this slide?" Christine tried to reason with him. His eyes sliding between her face and mine, while he turned a bunch of different colors, the last was a beat red.

"I'm definitely not letting this go, your friend here broke my violin, I need some sort of compensation for ruining my most prized procession, not to mention the fact, and I will need to be replacing this one for a new one." Christine backed –off as voices were coming from the other end of the hallway.

"Mr. Williams what is the meaning of this boasting confrontation?" Christine looked towards the ground; she knew who was coming into the hallway. "Christ-"

Her father's voice was cut short as the man in front of me took hold of the situation, "These two were running down the corridor, and this one," he pointed towards me, the little pixie like girl holding a guitar in her hands. He stopped mid-sentence, looking at our heads looking down at the floor. It was plain as day we were going to get into trouble, I was waiting for the response so I could get kicked out, and fast, maybe they wouldn't harass me on the way out either, like on one of my nightmares coming to this place. "Never mind sir, this all was a big understanding, I will take full responsibility for the situation getting out of control, Now if you excuse me I will be heading towards the auditorium for practice."

Christine's father was a medium built man always wearing black pants and long blue shirts, his face was beaming with anger as Abel walked away, his very essence leaving an impression on me, on us both. Once he made it to the other end and turned to go into the auditorium, we heard the door open and click, her father turned from Christine, to myself.

"That was one of my most prized violinists, you both could have caused a terrible disagreement, and we've had in place for some time." His voice stopped. "Now, Christine, who is your friend, and why does she look pale as a ghost?"

Christine looked at me, grinning somewhat.

"She would like to audition for you, if you have a chance. I was going to accompany her on the piano." I looked at Christine in disbelief; she told me three months ago, her father was looking for guitarist with a certain vibe to work with. She was only asking him now? My head was beginning to spin ten-fold. Not to mention how angry I was starting to become inside, as it swarmed my stomach.

He paled looking at me. "Christine, I'm sure your friend here, is very well taught, but my theater is to be run with people around mid-twenties."

He turned to walk away. When at the pent up anger, for the time I put in busting my butt to make this work, to practice day in and day out just to land some sort of position here, I was not about to let it go. Since Christine looked defeated in a sense and her father turned his foot, to walk away, I needed to stand up to the plate next.

"Mr. Garrison, my name is Serena Marguerite Snow, the daughter of the great Charles Snow; I believe you know him the greatest Norwegian guitar player alive, he played here not too long ago." Her father stopped right him his tracks hearing my father's name was only a last resort thing, I never even told Christine who my father was. And it was for good reason as well.

"I never heard of Charles Snow saying he had a child, while his stay with us at this theater." Her father was looking for answers I wasn't reluctant to give him. "Play one of his compositions for me in the auditorium, and then we will see if you are the legitimate child of Charles Snow." After hearing those words, I was both scared, and excited.

As Christine's father walked away, all I could see from the side using my peripheral vision was two large angry eyes staring at me. If my life was a cartoon at this moment, I would see a giant question mark above my head in the next two seconds.

"And when were you going to let your dear sweet best friend in on this little tid-bit of information, huh?" She didn't sound angry, it was actually calm. But her eyes were showing something different, unless that is what Christine wanted me to think at that moment. I wasn't sure; it was hard to read what her next move was half the time.

"You knew me since diapers, I lived with my mother because I never knew my father, she said he was always on the road, never home, and the times he came home, well… let's just say it wasn't a very good visit. But none-the-less, I am his child, I know I am from the pictures and letter's mom has stored in a trunk in her room. She may not like talking about dad much, but that doesn't stop my detective work from happening." I took my guitar in hand. "Plus he left me several of his greatest gifts. One, I'm holding in my hands right now." I also went into my wallet and drew a picture from the left side on it, it was secretly hidden just right, handing it to her she saw I wasn't lying and the pendant I wore around my neck was around my mother's neck in the picture at that time. She handed it back to me as I opened the one thing she wanted to see dearly.

Holding on the guitar to Christine her eyes grew wide with shock. It was a sad shock at first because of the story I was unraveling to her for the first time but it was his guitar I held in my hands. A one of a kind vintage, masterpiece, it was custom made for him, and now I'm using it.

"You know what this means right?" I looked at her face. That evil, scheming look growing wide with cleverness dripping from ear to ear on her. "You have to play one of your dad's songs now, I know it's not what you wanted to play, but maybe he will overlook it."

"Yeah, I'll play the same thing he played for mom, when he proposed to her. I mean he wrote the music himself." Smiling I took the score from the inside of the case, closed the door carefully on the door, and picking it up, I was determined not to fail. Walking through the doors into the auditorium, I walked with Christine, taking off my sweater and handing it to her. We sat in the front row listening to the heavenly sounds below the stage. I could hear the light touches of the flute, the deep touches of the strings, which caused a chaotic problem to enter my mind. Imagining I was dancing in the music itself. It would remind me of the love I had for a man, and the problems of harvesting that love, probably because of family problems.

As the music died to a passionate, slow rhythm I took it as an opportunity to open my guitar case and play along to the sound. It was easy for me to pick up on what notes to play; I had heard this song a million times over. Placing my cord to my electric guitar into the AMP, I waited until the moment to shine. As everyone died down, my solo came to a promising start. This was one of the songs my dad played early on; he started placing his compositions here, at The Otter Theater.

As the sound died down, I picked up my guitar and started to play the music notes that went along with the song, it was both beautiful and sad at the same time. The joy and laughter, over-whelming my soul, as I strummed the strings with my guitar pik' I closed my eyes imagining dad playing his music to my mother. Her sweet smile as he danced around her, her heart swelling with joy and happiness like the pictures she had in her trunk. I kept that in thought as the heads from the orchestra peeked out to look at me. I only heard one other instrument in the background as I played along to the song in my head.

Its tone was alarming and didn't fit really well with this solo, but as its tone became woven into the guitar's streaming notes, it started to flow better. Once the music came to a complete stop, I ended up having tears flow from my eyes. The sadness and joy was easily captured from the guitar-violin mixture.

"Well, kid, you sure can play, now the better decision is; what to do with you?" Christine's father's voice was coming from behind. His face red with embarrassment. Christine was jumping for joy, practically jumping out of her seat, clapping. "Tell you what, there is another test round that you will have to do, but this time, you will be accompanied by someone, now who to put you with." He skimmed a sheet of paper in his hands. His fingertips stopping at a name. it felt like seconds before he called out a name.

"Mr. Garrison, surely you jest." My mouth rambled on. "Are you not satisfied that you got another audition in my Theater?" His mouth grew into a medium halt, expressionless and overbearing; he was going to get to me.

"You need to learn this, consider it, a stepping stone into my theater, of course, should you decided to resign my grand gesture, and I will not take offence." His voice drawing cold and clear. "But the guy nearly wants to take my head on a platter for breaking his instrument earlier, isn't there someone else I could possibly work with, he's incorrigible to say the least, there is no way I could work with him." Stopping my words I looked behind me, apparently I wasn't the only one upset by this considerable predicament. "Look if you both have a problem, work it out amongst yourselves. I know you both have talent and consider this, if you both do well, you both will have a trial in showing your own work. But I want to see if you both can make music together."

"Ah, Abel James Williams will accompany you, Serena Snow." Mr. Garrison said in a clear and calm voice, with a hint of torture on the side.

As Mr. Garrison left the room, and everyone was getting ready to leave, nothing around us moved. I only saw Abel and me in the mist of every one getting ready to leave. Christine was near me, tugging on my shirt, as I came back to reality. My mind was literally blown how had it actually come to this?

How am I suppose too work with someone like him?

He smirked obviously holding something back that I didn't know, and he wasn't reluctant to share with me. Fine if he was going to play dirty, I would too!

"So, I see we will be working together." He turned away looking at the instrument in his chair with disgust. It was a violin, but not his violin. The violin I broke earlier was nowhere in sight. "Look, I'm not happy about this either, but could we just, get… a...along?"

He stopped, and from his bent position looked at me. His face showing the total anger full blast now.

He got up and walking towards me with his violin in his hands, I was hoping he was trying to fathom the pursuing question at hand. He put his hand under my chin, lifting it up he fully had my attention; it was quite disturbing how his eyes worked on me.

And like in the movies when everything stops, but the people who are in love, he spoke a sentence which drove me to my next decision.

"We will never get along." His words flat with emotion, and careless to my ears and expression.

Throwing a pouting look, it did nothing for him. He gathered up his belongings and made it for the door. The next time I would see him, he would be in a less of a mode to try and mess with me. A plan was already setting inside my brain. Hopefully he would heed my warning after it. Maybe, just maybe this would work, if not, at least I tried. But I wasn't going to give up. I came thus far, I should, and I should try for mom.

"I guess I will see you next time, what was it, Mr. Williams?" My words cascading innocently off my tongue. He really didn't seem amused at all by it.

Taking my guitar as well I walked with Christine. Her head was high with triumph.

"We came, we saw, we conquered, as the romans said?" She said as I opened the red ruby door to her car. She looked at me, trying to figure if I was going to have any comments back at her.

"I guess, but why have someone accompany me?" I said out-loud. She started to put in her two sense. "I mean why not another audition, even if it was privately, why couldn't it be by myself?"

Moving in the car, I put my seat belt on, watching the white snow-flakes fall. It was pleasant this new feeling. I would have my dream within my grasp sometime in the near future. I hoped mom would support me in the arts. Ever since I first learned about dad she tried to stray me away from music and the arts in general. Her the lawyer inside her heart and soul, always trying to convert me to a different way of thinking.

"Serena." Christine looked at me, her eyes filled with worry. I didn't know what to expect to come out of her mouth, but what she said next, was something that plagued me for the next day. It was something that would drive me to follow Abel crazy until he finally buckled down.

"Don't get close to Abel. Promise me okay?" Her words seemed gentle but, it also seemed like she was looking out for me in a sense.

I didn't know how to respond so I just nodded in agreement, and turned up the radio to Katy Perry, as she drove me to my apartment where we continued to make hot chocolate.