Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Phantom of the Opera (stuffs Erik into a closet to hide him from lawyers). See?

AN: Okay, I'm not sure whether this plotline has been done before or not, so please don't get upset if it's too cliché. There will be much more Erik in this story than the previous one, though he will appear in the next chapter instead of this one. I hope that everyone can wait. (grins) Anyway, please read and review to let me know how I'm doing. Thanks!

Chapter 1: An Escape to Paris:

'Wow, Paris looks so different in real life,' I thought as the taxi took me away from the hotel and towards my first tourist destination.

For so long I had merely stared at postcards, picture books, travel television shows, and the Internet videos of the City of Lights. Now I was here, riding down a French street with a Frenchman for a cab driver who, unfortunately, spoke little English. Also, he was, to my sorrow, fairly rude on just about everything. I'd heard of the legendary rudeness of the French, but now was experiencing it firsthand. Yet, I was very excited, and would not let the muttered words of my cab driver sour my mood. Nothing short of a natural disaster was going to ruin this for me!

'Well, nothing besides the fact that I'm traveling alone in one of the most romantic cities on Earth,' I thought before pushing it aside.

I was not going to let depressing thoughts bring me down. I was now living my dream of seeing Paris, and I was not going to let anything stop me from having a good time! After ten years of living in hell with my mother, Heaven had sent me the means of getting out of there while I still could…

Six Weeks Prior:

"Alisa Chapman, you get down here this very minute!"

I winced and set aside the classified ads I had been looking at. 'Time to answer the banshee's call,' I thought as I raced downstairs.

My mother was waiting in the living room, a large manila envelope on the messy coffee table before her. A frown was on her face, but then, what else was new? Ever since Dad left and took my little brother with him over ten years ago, the frown had become permanently etched on her face. I could count on one hand how many times I'd seen my mother smile a real, honest smile, and not one she merely gave to the public like some sort of cheap mask.

Biting back a sigh, I put on an emotionless face and sat down on the couch, facing my mother. I didn't say a word, since every time I spoke I seemed to make her angry. She also seemed to be in an extremely bad mood over something; therefore, speaking out of turn would only make the whole situation worse, so I merely sat there and put on my "I'm-an-idiot" face. My mother studied me thoroughly and found nothing to complain about as she saw me, the epitome of meekness, sitting there and keeping silent, much like a "good" daughter should. Nodding, she merely pushed her short black hair out of her face and sat up straight, preparing to speak. Inwardly, I winced, knowing that my mom blamed me for all of the individual white hairs that now decorated her head.

"Alisa," my mom began, her black eyes staring down at the envelope before her. "You should know that your grandmother's sister, meaning my aunt, has died recently." She frowned even more. I said nothing, and merely waited for more information or a signal to reply. I received none, so I remained silent as Mother continued talking. "Although you never knew her, my aunt was a very wealthy woman with no children of her own. Since your grandfather left a great amount of money to your grandmother, my aunt had decided to leave all of her money…to you."

I swallowed heavily, but said nor did anything else in reply. Instead, I continued to listen.

The frown on my mother's face deepened. "Apparently, since you're the oldest grandchild, and since you're nearly of legal age, you get to inherit all of her wealth."

Technically, I was 21-years-old as of yesterday. It was no big deal, considering Mother had forgotten my birthday…again. Still, I remained silent, just staring at the envelope. If I said nothing, I wouldn't get yelled at, nor would I get any sort of lecture on "how to obey your mother by staying quiet."

Wordlessly, my mother tossed the envelope into my lap, crossing her arms and glaring at me as soon as I picked it up and opened it. The document inside was pretty basic, and was actually in the form of a letter stating that, since my great-aunt was without children and that her sister (my grandmother) was already well-off in life, I was next in line for the money. The letter also declared that my great-aunt knew my mother's siblings were also financially secure, and clearly wanted me to "have some fun in life," before I grew too jaded by 'adult problems' to enjoy it.

'Makes sense to me,' I thought, smiling inwardly. 'I think I would have liked the woman, if I'd met her.'

However, since the fact that I was inheriting this money made me happy, I knew that my mother would do everything in her power to take all of the joy out of it. She tended to suck all of the fun out of everything, which was why I hadn't had a real birthday cake (much less a party) since I was 12-years-old. Heck, we hadn't even gone on vacation since then, either, and Mom refused to let me spend more than one night at a friend's house.

For all I knew, she had always been this way. It might have even been the reason that my father left us, and why he took my then five-year-old brother with him, probably to spare him from the nightmare that was our mother. I don't know why Dad hadn't taken me, but I figured that it was because I'd already suffered too much to actually be 'saved' by Dad. One night, when I was 10, I watched a fight between my parents. An hour after it was over, Dad just packed up and left. Paul, my little brother, had run up to him, pleading to go, too, and Dad had agreed. Mom and I were left alone in the house, and we haven't seen them since.

How lucky for me to get the mentally twisted parent in the matter. Sophia Chapman, my mother, was not someone you wanted as a parent. Outside our home, she was happy and cheerful to everyone, laughing, joking, teasing her friends and co-workers, but at home, I swear that she was a raving lunatic. She'd yell at me for going grocery shopping behind her back, after I'd discovered that the cabinets and fridge were empty of anything edible. She's slap me if I even suggested that she buy something more than just the basic crackers and bottled water that was on sale at the store. Once she even thrown me out of the house for the night just for using the new shampoo she'd just bought; I'd opened it because I had used all of mine and needed a new bottle, and she'd caught me opening it.

If I had the power to do so, I'd have her committed to an asylum for all of the horrors she'd put me through since Dad left. I did my best to live with it until I had enough money saved up, but with this "gift horse," I could leave much sooner than I had planned. I scanned the other documents, each of which would require my signature in order for me to take possession of the inheritance. The last one nearly made my jaw drop, as it had the sum of the amount I would be getting after the government, the lawyers, and everyone else got their share of the holdings, as well as what the sale of her estate brought in. I had never seen so much money in my life, and now I was going to get all of it, just for me!

'5 million dollars?' I thought in awe. 'Wow…what I could do with that sort of money!'

Part of it would be stored away for emergencies and retirement, of course; I was young, but not stupid when it came to planning for the future! Still, there would be a lot left over for me to spend on whatever I wanted. A house of my own far away from here, for instance…

"Alisa," my mother snapped. "Are you listening to me?"

I wasn't, but I couldn't let her know that. Instead, I kept silent and let her talk.

"I said that you should give me some of your money," Mother demanded, her black eyes boring into my skull.

'Oh, no…she did not just say that,' I thought as I stared at her in shock.

But Mom wasn't done yet. "After all, I've fed you, clothed you, sheltered you all by myself ever since your father left, and I deserve something for it," she said. "Where would you have been without me here to support you? Don't you think I should have something for putting up with you?"

There were many places that I could have been sent to if I hadn't been forced to stay with my mother, but I decided to keep quiet. Instead, I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I need to think about it," I softly replied while staring at the envelope.

My mother nodded and I was allowed to head upstairs, the envelope tucked securely under my arm. I immediately headed for my bedroom, my sanctuary where I could lock the door and hide from my mother and her horrible words. Sighing, I collapsed onto my bed, closing my eyes in relief. I now had over five million reasons for Mother to be nice to me, and I would have to keep that to my advantage. Now I would be able to have some real peace in my life.

'Well, she won't be nagging me to look for more work,' I thought to myself with a smile. 'In fact, she won't be nagging me at all!'

I quickly sat up and looked at myself in the mirror, frowning as I looked at my reflection. Sometimes, I think that it's my looks that makes Mother so upset with me, mainly that of my hair. Dad had red hair, and I think the red highlights in my own brown locks remind her of him. My dark brown eyes mostly resemble hers, but since they're not black, it probably makes her even more upset. I wasn't petite like Mom, but instead was short at 5'3' and stocky, meaning I had "meat on my bones," like Dad did. I was a mixture of both my parents, but since I was here and Dad wasn't, it was me who got the lectures and screams to 'stop being stupid' and do what she said.

My eyes wondered over to my posters. Fantasy images of fairies, dragons, and celestial goddesses decorated my walls, though there was one spot in which another image all together occupied. That image was that of the Phantom of the Opera. I had spent quite a bit of my babysitting money on that one poster from the Andrew Lloyd Webber musical, but it had been worth it! The soundtrack to both the movie and musical currently sat in my iPod and stereo system, and the film was on my wall of DVD's. Mom didn't understand my obsession, but, thankfully, let me go ahead with it.

'As soon as I get that money, I'm going to go and see that musical for real,' I thought with a smile. 'I'll go and see Paris, visit the Opera House, and eat real French food!'

But first, I had better go and see a lawyer about getting my money…

I shook myself back to the present as the taxi pulled up to my destination. The man turned to look at me with a frown, trying to get me out of his cab as soon as he possibly could. I merely gave him a sincerely happy smile and handed him the fare, as well as a very good tip. The cabby looked surprised at the amount I'd given him, then gave me a smile.

"Have a good evening, mademoiselle," he said in heavily-accented English.

"Merci," I replied with a smile as I got out of the cab and shut the door behind me.

The man actually tipped his barrette-like hat at me before speeding away down the street, leaving me alone in front of the greatest piece of architecture I'd ever seen.

The Paris Opera House.

The digital camera I had bought hadn't stopped snapping pictures since I had stepped inside the infamous Opera House. The outside had been stunning, but the inside was incredible!

On first entering the building, I was in awe of the amount of painted art and sculpture that decorated the main hallway. Half-naked muses, gods and goddesses stood everywhere; they lined the walls, the staircase, even the ceiling, almost as though the Opera House was the true home of the divine beings. I was able to film the entire hallway and the bottom of the grand marble stairway just before a security guard came up to me, asking me all sorts of questions in French. Once he figured out from my blank expression that I couldn't understand him, he smiled.

"Ah, an American, are we?" he asked, chuckling at my blush. "Oh, do not fear, mademoiselle, I was merely wondering about you filming the entire hallway; most people simply wish to save time by taking the tour." He gestured towards the growing group at the other end of the room.

I blushed even more. "Well, I never was one for going with the crowd," I said, with a small smile as I watched the tour group disappear around a corner. "I was merely taking pictures so that I could print them out and decorate my new apartment back home in America with them. See, I just moved into a new place and don't have much to put on the walls, so I decided to take a trip and get something memorable and beautiful to decorate it with."

The guard eyed me up and down. "Would you like the opinion of a man who has worked here at the Opera House for over ten years?" He grinned at my enthusiastic nodding. "In my humble opinion, it is the auditorium itself that has the best images to capture on film," he said. "Now, since I can see the appreciative light in your pretty eyes, it would be my pleasure to show you inside it."

Once more, a blush colored my cheeks. "Oh, I wouldn't want to get you into trouble," I blurted out, feeling guilty that I might cost this helpful man his job.

The guard only laughed. "Oh, it is no trouble," he said, waving his hand at me. "Now, let us go quickly, before someone comes and discovers us. If you are found in there, pretend that you wondered off from the tour, oui?"

I nodded and followed him through a large set of ornately decorated white doors. Red carpeting that was incredibly soft covered the floors, and seats of the same material were all perfectly lined up, waiting for the next performance to be done. Incredibly long strips of red silk embroidered with gold hung between the rows of expensive audience boxes, and as I looked up towards the stage, I saw a large curtain of the same glorious red material cutting off the back stage from the audience. Taking a deep breath, I looked up. Hanging from the domed ceiling was the most magnificent chandelier I had ever seen. There had to be thousands of crystals decorating it, and I could easily see the rainbow reflections gleaming off of it onto the painted mural above it.

A hand reached over and gently pushed my mouth shut. I quickly blushed and glanced over at the amused security guard. "Thank you," I muttered as I got my camera ready.

He chuckled. "No trouble, mademoiselle," he replied with a friendly wink. "Now I must be off. Stay out of the patron boxes; they are expensive to keep and maintain. You may explore the lower floor and the stage, but do not touch anything. Okay?"

I nodded quickly, eager to be left alone. The guard smiled and left before I could thank him properly or even get his name. Oh, well, perhaps I'd see him later. Deciding to seize the moment, I opened up my camera and began taking pictures, beginning with the ceiling murals and the chandelier. I then moved to taking images of the stage from the very rear of the auditorium, and the orchestra pit from just above where the conductor stood.

Once I had everything I wanted, I looked around and spotted a small stairway going up to the stage. I knew that I ran the risk of being caught, but I didn't care. I was on an adventure, and since I was a tourist, I could always claim that I didn't know the customs or rules…which I didn't. So, gathering up my courage, I climbed up onto the stage and looked out into the audience.

'Wow,' I thought as I looked all around me.

I could have sworn that I was there to perform an opera or even a play. A sudden rush of excitement and joy spread through me, causing me to stand on the tips of my toes and bounce on them in anticipation, almost as though I were actually part of a show's cast. The sight of all of those beautiful seats facing me was a rush of exhilaration, and I felt the need to capture it. So, not wanting to waste the shot, I once again took out my camera and began to snap pictures. After several minutes, I tucked the device away and looked around.

'So this is where Leroux based the plot for the story,' I thought with a smile. 'I never thought that I'd actually be able to stand here and see it. It's amazing!'

I'd never read the books, but the movie had been phenomenal. Since I had first seen it and heard the music, Paris and its Opera House had been one of my destinations. I wanted to see if the tale was true, and so took a little trip to local library. However, after doing a little historical research and comparing Leroux's book to the facts on record regarding the Opera House, I realized that it couldn't have happened. Certain things didn't add up, or dates clashed between the story and history, so therefore, the Phantom's tale had to be a work of fiction. I mean, history and recorded facts don't lie, do they? Nonetheless, the idea of the whole story actually happening still created an aura of fantasy within my head, and I had to find out if it was true or not. But my search for the Phantom could wait…I had another fantasy to live out before I was caught!

Opening my personal travel bag, I took out my iPod and tiny portable speaker, keeping the iPod in my hand and setting the speaker on the stage. After turning on the iPod and setting it up to the correct song, I pressed play, letting the song run through my head, not knowing that I wasn't alone.

AN: No Erik in this chapter, but he'll definitely be in the next one! Please review and show your support! Thanks!