So this is my new project. This has been playing out in my mind for a while now, so I thought I'd turn it into a fic and share it. This chapter is mainly just the beginning, it kind of sets up what is going to happen. It's pretty much ALW this chapter. But it changes in chapter two, I swear. If you don't like it, that's fine, I mean, this is mostly to get this out of my head, so. But if you do, please review!


He had been waiting for her. Her performance had been spectacular and he couldn't wait to see her again and congratulate her. So, as per usual, he hid behind her dressing room mirror and waited for her to enter.

When the door opened and she walked through, he smiled as he heard her singing under her breath, a large grin on her face. She went and sat at her dressing table, taking pins from her hair and brushing it out. It had been her debut as a prima donna today, and he intended to praise her for her talent and success. Naturally, she would thank him in return, it was just in her nature to give somebody else the credit. He was just about to make his presence known to her when the door opened again.

His eyes immediately switched to the newcomer, a scowl forming on his face. It was a boy. He had sand coloured hair and he looked like an over excited puppy, his eyes glinting as he spoke. He watched the interaction intently, trying to decipher who the young boy was to his angel. Surely it was not a suitor; he had made his thoughts and, therefore, demands on that aspect of her life very clear.

They were childhood friends, something about a scarf making the young girl smile in amusement. His frown deepened. He let out an involuntary growl as the boy put his hands on his angel's shoulders.

He was about to interrupt when the boy asked her to go out with him that night. Luckily, his angel knew better and declined. The boy didn't take no for an answer, and, as he rushed out of the room to get his hat, he decided to finally speak.


She was the picture of beauty that night. Still high off of the thrill of performing, she seemed to be glowing as she followed him down to his home. She didn't seem to be resisting, which made him unnecessarily happy. He momentarily relished in the fact that it was he who would be with her that night, not that silly little boy from the theatre.

She went through her regular warm ups and he himself nearly fainted when she collapsed into his arms a short while afterwards. He knew she must be tired, but not so much to pass out. Nevertheless, he, with a sense of protectiveness, carried her in his arms to his boat and laid his cape over her. She looked peaceful as she slept and he had to fight the urge to caress her gentle face and silky hair which threatened to be a hard feat.

With one last look at her, he turned around and moved to his organ, determined to spend the next couple of hours or so composing, waiting for her to awake.


It was the coolness that alerted him. He had been so caught up in his music that he hadn't noticed her coming up behind him. So, when her small wrist slid over his mask and grasped it, he only realised that something had changed because the right side of his face had become less heated and concealed. Next came the light and the fact that his right eye wasn't partially covered anymore. That's when he flipped out.

How dare she? Why would she want to know what he was hiding underneath his mask? He had kept it hidden for so long, and now she had the gall to just yank it off with no abandon. He had done it to protect people from his face, to make him look like less of a monster. And now the one person who he had so desperately wanted to convince that he was normal and eventually loveable had compromised his entire plan. There was no way he could salvage the situation.

And, so, as he realised there was no other option, he let his emotions take over. He span around and chased after her, pulling her to him by the waist and throwing her to the floor. He looked around desperately to try and find something to cover his face with, anything would do. His anger was insurmountable, it empowered him and made him feel invincible. It filled him with an urge to kill.

He turned to the cowering girl on the floor, scrunched up in a ball, her hair covering her face and fluttering out onto the stone floor. He winced at how scared she looked, trembling and shaking on the floor, curled up in the corner of the room. He had done that, he had thrown her there. Perhaps he was a monster after all.

Nevertheless, he tried to talk to her. He got on the floor and attempted to tell her that there was more to him than his face, that she could learn to love him just like he loved her. She crawled away from him, even sitting directly against the cold wall just to avoid touching him. Every now and again, when she focused on him, she would cringe and turn away from him.

The fear in her eyes made him want to weep. He shouldn't have to put her through this. She's wasn't supposed to be scared of him, she was supposed to want to be with him forever. But he supposed that even the kindest hearts couldn't excuse the monstrosity that he was cursed with as a face. He watched her closely as she turned to look at him again, almost pitying him. Despite that, he could sense curiosity in her gaze.

He watched her gentle hands as they curled around the mask beside her and lifted it up carefully, and his face softened significantly. She leant over to him and passed him the white mask, letting her delicate fingers skim across it as he claimed it and put it back on his face. He felt vulnerable without his mask on. It just so happened that he felt vulnerable when in the presence of her too.

He jumped up suddenly, grasping her on the arm and pulling her to a standing position. He resulted to take her back to her dressing room. His emotions were still in full force and he knew that if he stayed with her any longer, he could lose control. And that had already happened too much tonight.