Author's Note: I know, I know! I'm a terrible person! I'm in the middle of three stories and here is my fourth! Well, I would like to say that I LOVE Phantom of the Opera and Gerard Butler, especially. I see him as the only perfect Phantom. Alright, I would love it if you reviewed and commented on this story, it would mean the world to me. Thanks, ya'll!

Disclaimer: Blah blah blah... I don't own Phantom of the Opera... blah blah blah...

Preface

Isn't it sad to see a twenty-six year old woman sitting in a gorgeous black coat that completely consumes her body as she consumes a nice liter of absinthe she stole from a bar? Oh, and the hair has to be perfect: so black it looked as if she had feathers of a raven as hair. The make up, of course, must be neatly done amongst the icy blue eyes, a thick black line on the top lid and mascara slathered on it looked fake. Lipstick must be smeared a tad just to show how much she drank and doesn't care to check. Dress should be a tight corset of black lace and fabric with the laces in the front that led down to an amazing black skirt that flowed beneath her feet, which in case were completely bare and almost purple looking.

Yes, this woman sitting drunk and close to hallucinations, was me. Me, Nathalie Lydie André, the worst name my mother could have ever thought of. The last child left to that bitch and her seventh husband. All of my six brothers and sisters, killed in some "freak police misunderstanding". I was young, only sixteen when they were killed and thankfully at a friend's home, working on our song we were composing together. I had always wondered where all the other six husbands went. No more than two years had gone by when another would show up, much more richer than the other.

Yet, here I sit, drinking my life away, hoping to give up all I had worked for and every wanted to achieve. All I had ever wanted to do was to sing and become famous and rich and, oh God, I'm going to throw up.

I leaned to my right, or as much as I could in this tight corset holding my waist together, and hurled all the green liquor out of my system. The steam from it wafted in the freezing air, creating some heat for my feet. I turned and let the heat return my feet to some point of feeling, where they had gone numb in the hours I sat out on the sidewalk in the foot of snow on the cobblestone streets.

My body shivered and I grabbed the bottle and placed it against my lips, relishing in the sweet and potent liquor sliding down my throat with ease. I gasped as I emptied the bottle of it's contents and began the process of standing up. I knew this wasn't going to end well, but if it did happen to be successful, I wouldn't be standing for a long time.

I grabbed the edge of the sidewalk, pulling on it and turning my now frozen feet around and pushing against the walkway. I held myself up with the tips of my fingers and the tips of my toes, trying to push off with one finger, but falling back to the others once more. My hair had now fallen into my face, distracting me and as I went to sweep the silky hair from my face, my right hand didn't have the strength to hold me and let me go. I tipped over, waiting for the hard stone to collide with my cold body.

But, it didn't happen but, ended up in the arms of someone strong, someone impressive because I apparently gave a purr as if I wanted to bed them. I wrapped my hands around a hooded head and tried looking into the eyes of my savior. They were hidden by the darkness of the hood he wore and all I felt was a hard chest raising my body up and down along with his breaths. I could have sworn I heard him say something, but, I don't know what it could have been. I fell asleep immediately once secured in his powerful arms.

"I have you, do not fear, I am the Phantom, shed no tears," he whispered into my ear, leaving an almost harmonized tone sifting itself through my mind as I slept, feeling the bounce of footsteps and the sound of his shoes hitting the cobblestones.

…

I awoke to the sound of a piano, soft as if it were muted. I tried sitting up but, my head turned against me and I dropped back to the satin sheets of the bed. I looked around me; candles, many of them around the room. Didn't this person know that having so many candles could be a fire hazard? Nope, probably not. I looked at the sheets I lay in, the red velvet and satin creating a completely mesmerizing feel against my fingers. They looked imported but, the stitching wasn't of some Eastern country but, of someone who knew what they were doing?

I pushed myself up on my elbow and rubbed my face, running my fingers through my raven hair, allowing it to settle back down to it's original position. I looked behind me and saw a wall with huge curtains accenting the none windows that were there but, stone walls with some of the stones protruding from the smooth wall but, nothing too deadly looking.

A long black laced curtain hung around the bed I lay on and a rope with gorgeous thread spun through it was the pulley to raise them. I rolled over to the other side of the bed and reached for the rope, hitting the frills with my fingertips. Finally, I grabbed the damn thing and pulled it, using it also as a support to help me stand. With my hands clutched to the rope, the curtain began to rise and gave way to an amazing underground lair, one filled with a hundred candles on beautiful golden stands and a grand organ placed in between the stone and more candles. A lake was the center point of this den and it made it seem so beautiful. Sheets of music were strewn across the organ, scribbled on with ink and looked as if it had been crumpled and then smoothed back out. I had walked slowly towards the sheet music and held it in my hands, admiring the notes that were completely crazy in it's complexity.

I placed the papers back down on the organ and walked over to the lake that had a light coating of fog on top, making it seem eerie.

"I got to get out of here," I whispered, turning to a door slightly hidden by a curtain. I turned the knob and pushed the door, feeling the rush of cold winter night air hitting my face like a train coming at full speed to a tiny deer on the tracks. I was pushed back a bit, my hands now blocking the snow and wind from my face as I began my ascent up the stairs that led to a back alley where it was hidden safely from prying eyes.

I sucked in a deep breath, trying to keep my lungs strong but, this bitter wind was tearing me up. I didn't want to have to go back down to that underground room but, it looked as if I had no choice. I walked back down the stairs and braced myself against the door from the inside now, trying to close it with all the strength I had in my hungover state.

A black leather gloved hand placed itself above my head and pushed the door close and the other hand turned the bolt that was next to my shoulder. I followed the arms to a man standing behind me, his body now towering above my own and I pressed my back against the door, sinking as I looked into the light green eyes of the man looking down at me. Half of his face was covered with a white mask that extended from the right side of his forehead down to right above his lips, and were they some amazing lips. They were plump and so inviting, but it was parted and showing the pure white teeth that were so beautiful. I looked from his lips to his hair; so black and slicked back to the collar of his black tuxedo coat. His skin was tan and his eyes were piercing through to my half-sober heart.

"Do I frighten you, child? Does my face scare you?" He hissed, bringing his face closer to mine. His breath was grazing my face with ease and truthfully, no, his face doesn't scare me but, the look on it does.

I shook my head 'no' and watched as his brow was brought down, the right one hidden. An anger came over his face and I watched as his gloved hands grabbed my shoulders and brought me to his body then slamming me back.

I screamed, the force of the push and the still drunken state I was in didn't mix well. I knew I was going to throw up and unfortunately, his face was to be the victim. I brought my hand up to my mouth and cupped the vomit as best as I could. My knees shook and I fell, his hands still on me and I watched as he sank down to the floor with me. His face lost its anger and his hand came up to my face, cradling it with the softest touch I had ever felt a man give me before.

The vomit seeped down the black lace corset and skirt and stained my fingers with it's horrid smell. I watched his reaction as he wiped something from my cheeks. He rubbed his hand on his pants but, nothing showed up. I blinked and realized the blurry vision wasn't the leftover alcohol but, tears that were streaming from my eyes.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, dropping my hands down and laying my forehead against his shoulder. It felt so comforting and I didn't want to move.

But, the sudden jerk of a hand on my throat took me away from the serenity. He pressed my throat against the wooden door and gave a hard stare as he looked at my face. His eyes were hard and freaking the absolute wits out of me. I brought my hands up to his wrist and tried pulling away, but to no avail.

"You are not afraid?" He asked, his voice so melodic.

"N-No..." I squeaked out, now feeling the grip tighten around the flesh. I choked and tried gasping for air, shaking my head as I tried kicking my bare feet to his body.

"Then why do you squirm like a bug?" He hissed, watching me intently.

I felt the blood in my head swim and my vision begin to blacken. "Because I cannot breathe!" I shouted at him, my voice sounding like the steam from a tea pot over a pit of fire.

He released and I fell over to my side, holding my neck and massaging the tender flesh gently. I coughed up a few drops of blood and it fell to the floor unnoticed by him.

"You shall remember me, I will promise you that." He said, standing up and retrieving a towel and throwing it to me.

I caught it and began wiping the vomit from my face and hands and scrubbing, what I could, off of my dress. I lay the towel down next to me and began to stand, looking for the man. He was gone and I realized that it was my chance to escape. I used the door for support and unlocked the huge lock on the wooden door and braced myself for the cold winter's air.