There was a newcomer at the opera house, and therefore he just had to see who it was. It wasn't hard to find whoever it was, because he could hear the newcomer crying, and quite loudly as well.
"Madame Giry, where's my Angel? The Angel of Music Daddy promised me-where is he?" a little girl's voice cried as she leaned into the older woman's arms.
The young man looked through the hole where he could see everything that happened in the small seven-by-seven room with two small beds in it. He could see in, but no one would be able to see him.
"Shh, child. Your Angel of Music will come one day. First you need to get settled in. This is your home now, dear", the woman pulled the little girl tighter.
In his head, the figure snorted. This little girl seemed so spoiled. She just sounded so demanding, and where was her father anyway? She was beautiful, but only in a little girl sort of way. Besides, he knew he would never have a chance to marry or be in love, so why even think about it?
"Mother, should I begin to unpack Christine's things?" another little girl with blond hair sweetly asked the woman.
He had seen her before, and knew that she lived here, but he didn't care about her enough to actually know her name. He had more important things to do, and knew that he shouldn't be wasting his time here.
The mysterious figure left his post at the small hole, and wandered off to more important business that actually concerned him.
"Yes, Meg. Just place her things next to yours-they'll fit. Good girl, and thank you", Meg's mother told her, still comforting the crying other little girl-Christine, her name was.
"I don't want this to be my home, though. I need to go back to our house. Daddy would want me to keep our house the way it was", Christine said, a determined look on her face. She wriggled out of Madame Giry's arms.
"Christine, look at me. Please listen. Your father wanted you to live here, at the opera house with Meg and me. He wanted you to learn music like he had. He wanted you here, I swear", Madame Giry said. She took Christine's shoulders in her hands and looked her straight in the eyes. Christine looked to the side, avoiding her gaze.
"Please be careful with Christine, Antoinette. She's very fragile and shy. I want her to be with you when I die, and for you to be almost like an adopted mother to her. She doesn't like looking people in the eyes, as well. I haven't figured out why yet, but I'm hoping that you will", Christine's father looked at Madame Giry.
That was what Christine's father had told Madame Giry the day of his death. He died later that afternoon, today, as a matter of fact. He had been certain that Christine not looking people in the eyes wasn't just because she was shy, but because of some other reason.
Madame Giry sighed. They had been so close, Christine and her father. Christine had had to watch her father die ever so slowly, causing even more pain to her when he did die.
Christine eyes widened, the closest thing to a smile since her father had gotten ill. "Are you sure, Madame Giry? My father told me that whenever someone says 'swear' they should really mean it, and to know if you trust them or not", the little girl said.
Madame Giry moved a chestnut curl out of Christine's face. "Your father taught you well, Christine Daae. Now please, get some sleep. Meg is right here, but I will be going to sleep somewhere else. Do you think you can manage that?" Madame Giry got up from the small bed they had been sitting on and walked over to the door.
"Yes, Madame Giry. I will", Christine said. Madame Giry kissed Meg goodnight and then quietly left.
Meg settled into bed perfectly fine, but Christine was having a hard time trying to get to sleep.
Now that his unfinished business was finally completed, the young man returned to the small hole leading into the two girls' bedroom. He was interested to know more about this little girl.
"Meg, why did Daddy have to die?" Christine sat up and looked at Meg, who then also sat up.
The lonely figure blinked back in surprise. He didn't know why, but he thought that this little girl was just too spoiled to have a deceased father. The way she said it, though. So innocent and unknowing. The figure closed his eyes, feeling oddly sympathetic for this other girl. He had never felt sympathy for another creature before, so this was a rare feeling.
The closer he looked, the better he could see that this little girl-he still didn't know her name yet-was crying, silent tears sliding down her cheeks.
"I don't know, Christine. I guess it's just the way the world works. I'm sorry Christine, but I'm sleepy and I want to go back to sleep", Meg said apologetically. She lay back down in bed.
"Oh", was all Christine could say in response.
Meg's breath soon turned into slow, melodic breathing, indicating that she had gone to sleep. Christine, however, was still sitting up in bed, wide awake.
The figure was curious to see what this little girl was going to do-he knew that she wouldn't just sit there the whole night.
After at least an hour, Christine quietly got up, mumbling softly about an Angel of Music.
The figure stirred, almost asleep himself, but awakening to the sound of the little girl. He knew her as Christine, now. He laughed at himself for not bringing himself to leave sooner. Now he had the time to spend watching little girls trying to get to sleep?
She walked far, clearly not knowing where she was going. The figure followed her, slowly and steadily, but keeping pace far behind her.
After a while of wandering, the it looked like Christine was looking for a way out. She soon gave up, and tired, simply lay down on cold stone floor. Her eyes soon closed.
The figure knew of how much commotion would be caused when Madame Giry would wake up to find this little girl missing. He sighed, and later regretted what he was about to do next.
He walked up, his stealth not wakening the slumbering little girl. He gently put her hand on her shoulder, and she stirred awake.
"Angel?" was the first thing she said.
"No... Christine. Don't open your eyes. This is your... Angel. Your Angel of Music. If you open your eyes, I will disappear forever. I'm going to take you back to your room, alright?" he gently asked her. He shunned himself for the stupid lies he made up. So silly, so childish.
"Angel! It is you. I knew you would come. Oh, thank you!", Christine said, still not opening her eyes as he told her to.
He picked her up and carried her back to her room. The whole way there, she rested her head firmly against his chest. His eyes stung and he realized he was crying. He was crying because he realized that no human being had ever felt so trusting, so comfortable with him. Even though she had never seen his horrid face, he knew that this girl was different, and that she didn't care about how he looked.
He lay her into her bed, cautiously and carefully. She smiled, her eyes still closed. "Thank you Angel", she whispered to him.
She magically found his cheek-luckily the unmasked side-and kissed him gently. She lay back down into her bed and settled into her pillow. Christine was so tired that she fell asleep almost right away.
The lonely figure left her, touching his own hand to the cheek she had just kissed. How had she not been afraid? How had she been so trusting? No one had ever done anything to him like that; so gentle, so kind and loving.
He went to sleep that night knowing that there was a little girl above him, probably dreaming about her Angel of Music.
