There came days when Robert Gold had to ask himself why he'd chosen to leave his pawnbrokerage and antiquities business and venture into managing the careers of entertainers. His talent for making profitable deals gained him some of the highest paid celebrities in Hollywood as his clients. His top client was the actress Regina Mills Hood and she was also the most demanding. As soon as he saw her number flashing on his cellphone he knew this would not be a social call. He couldn't deny she had talent and one day he expected to see her accepting an Academy Award and to remember he was the one who helped her get there. Without him she would still be still be back in their hometown of Storybrooke, Maine living the life her ruthless mother planned for her, a loveless marriage to a wealthy man twice her age and spending all of her time being his trophy wife instead of starring in blockbuster movies and happily married to her high school sweetheart Robin Hood.

"Hello Regina," he answered grimly.

"Robert, you've got to help me. Cameron is coming out with another movie with a part in it that would be great for me but his people won't even send me the script!" she shouted. "Do you know who they want in the lead role..fucking Mary Margaret Blanchard and that bitch is gonna get the role because of her fucking daddy!"

Robert sighed. Mary Margaret was the daughter of legendary director Leopold Blanchard and unlike Regina, she did not have a difficult time obtaining roles. They starred in a movie together two years earlier and the tabloids constantly printed stories about Regina's fights with her on and off the set. It taken all Robert's skills as a deal maker to prevent Regina from being fired from the production and being blacklisted in Hollywood as a difficult actress to work with. She mellowed some since her marriage to Robin Hood but once her claws came out, it wasn't easy to push them back in.

"I'll get in touch with them and have them send us a copy of the script and if you still want the part after you read it I'll make them an offer that will have them begging to have you, dearie."

"Robert, you won't regret this!" Regina cried.

Oh, I hope not, he thought. "I'll keep you posted." he said as he disconnected the call and glanced up at the clock. It was almost time for dinner and his son still hadn't come downstairs. Sighing with frustration, he grabbed his cane and started up the stairs to Neal's room. As he suspected the boy was sitting on the floor in front of the television playing a game while listening to music. "Neal, dinner's ready." he called out. "Neal!" The boy ignored him. "Bloody hell!" Robert growled in frustration and yanked the earbuds out of his son's ears.

"Papa!" Neal cried.

"How many times have I told you not to play that thing so damned loud?" he snapped.

"Sorry, Papa. What'd ya want?"

"Dinner's ready."

"Okay, I'm coming."

When he said that, he usually meant in half an hour. "Now," Robert said firmly as he spun on his heels and exited the room with his groaning teenage son behind him. Neal tried his patience at times and Robert loved his son, giving him everything he could possibly want except his mother back in his life. Milah ran out on them when Neal was nine years old for a lowlife conman named Killian Jones, only seeing the boy every other weekend and Robert had no intentions of remarrying. Most women only saw dollar signs when they looked at him anyway. He couldn't even remember the last time he'd been on date.

"Hey Papa, ummm..I want to take Emma to a concert next month but ummm my allowance will only cover the cost of one ticket," Neal said nervously during dinner.

Robert looked up from his plate. "What concert and how much were you planning on spending?"

"It's Ligeia. They're our favorite band and I really wanted to get us a VIP pass so we could met them."

"Ligeia? That's the name of a work by Edgar Allen Poe."

"Yeah, they got the name from his stuff. The lead singer reads Poe."

That surprised him. He'd heard the music Neal and his girlfriend listened to and all it did was give him a headache and make him feel like his ears were bleeding. Nor could he understand what they were saying through all the growling and screaming.

"How do you plan on getting there? Neither one of you can drive yet?"

"Well...ahhh...I was gonna rent a limo."

"For a concert?"

"Yeah."

"How much of your allowance do you have to put toward this venture of yours?" Robert inquired.

"A hundred and fifty. That'll cover one ticket but I can't get another ticket, the limo or the VIP pass. Papa, I really want to do this. Here's what I'm offering…"

"I'm listening," Robert murmured as he leaned back in his chair and waited to hear his son's offer. He'd been giving Neal an allowance of one hundred dollars every month since he was ten but he had to earn it by completing a list of household chores every week. He always had an opportunity to earn extra money by making a deal his father would accept.

Negotiating with his father wasn't easy but keeping Emma in mind and how much seeing Ligeia meant to both of them gave Neal the courage he needed to make their dream come true. He took a piece of paper out of his pocket and handed it to his father. Robert read it over, a smile forming on his lips. "If I'm reading this correctly, you are agreeing to do your weekly chore list three times a week for a month instead of once a week and in exchange I agree to purchase VIP passes and rent a limousine for you and Emma to attend this Ligeia concert?" he asked. Neal nodded. "And you typed this contract up yourself?"

"I did," Neal replied proudly.

Robert grinned. "Then the deal is struck," he said as he reached into his shirt pocket and took out his pen. He signed his name in the blank space underneath his son's and handed the paper back. "Well done, son. Very well done."

"Thank you Papa." Neal said. "Can I go call Emma?"

"Not until we have the arrangements made. Do I need to call to do this or can it be done on the computer?"

"We can do it online."

"Fine. Let's go into my office."

Twenty minutes and minus several thousand dollars later Robert retired to the living room to read. He pulled his collector's edition of Edgar Allen Poe's stories and poems off the bookshelf and opened it to Ligeia.

Who in a band that does nothing but growl and scream would possess enough intelligence to read Edgar Allen Poe? he mused. He became so engrossed in his reading that he couldn't hear his cellphone ringing right away. When he finally picked it up the caller had already given up and didn't leave a message. He pulled up his call log and his assistant's number appeared on the screen.

"You called?" Robert asked as soon as the other man answered.

"Rob, I may have a new client for you." Jefferson Hatter announced.

"Oh? Who?"

"Belle Chamonceaux."

"I've never heard of her. Who is she?"

"She's the lead singer for a rock band that is quite famous overseas but they've just started gaining popularity here in the States. I think we should sign her."

"What band?"

"Ligeia."

"Ligeia?"

"Have you heard of them Rob?"

"No, but my son has. I just spent a fortune getting him and Emma tickets for their concert. They probably have an overseas manager so why would they want me?"

"Not they, her. She wants her own manager because she's thinking of moving here to the States and apparently someone gave her your name."

"A member of a band wanting her own personal manager? That's odd. Who's representing them now?"

"Her father, Maurice."

"She wants to fire her father and hire someone else? That certainly will cause a bit of a ruckus, won't it? Very well. Arrange a meeting with Ms. Chamonceaux."

"That might be a bit difficult with her touring schedule. You said you just bought Neal and Emma tickets to a concert of theirs? Why don't we see if we can set up something after the concert? You should go to the concert too."

"Jeff, that's not our kind of music. How do you expect me to sit through it when it makes my head pound and my ears bleed?"

"You'd do it if you were confident it would earn you another high earning client," Jeff reminded him.

"True. Speaking of clients, Jeff, set up a conference call with James Cameron's people for tomorrow afternoon so that we can get a look at the script for his latest project. Regina wants the lead in it and if it's decent enough, I'll see what I can do about that."

"You do know he has Mary Margaret in mind, right?"

"Yes. The girl may have the looks and be Leopold Blanchard's daughter but she can't act worth a damn and as soon as that shitehole that calls itself Hollywood learns that the better off we'll all be. I didn't put all this time and effort into making Regina famous to see her set aside for a spoiled Hollywood brat."

"I'll get to work on it right away. Now, about Belle Chamonceaux?"

Robert sighed. "I suppose I'll purchasing another ticket for that concert, mix business with displeasure so to speak."

Jefferson chuckled. "Okay. I'll talk to you when come in to the office in the morning."

After Robert disconnected the call he went back to his office and logged back into the website where he'd purchased the VIP passes for Emma and Neal and added another to it. When he went upstairs to talk to Neal the boy was on the phone chatting excitedly with Emma.

"Yeah, a limo and everything. We're going in style, babe!"

"Nine o' clock Neal then I want the lights out and you in bed, understand?" his father ordered.

"Yes, Papa. Emma says thank you. Talk to you tomorrow, Em."

"I'll be thanked properly if you keep to our deal, lad. Your chores, three times a week and no excuses," Robert reminded him.

"I won't break our deal," Neal vowed as he disconnected his call.

"Oh, and I'll be accompanying you to the concert," Robert added.

"Huh? Aww Papa, come on! Me and Em are too old to have a chaperon!" Neal whined.

"Actually this is business. Apparently Belle Chamonceaux is looking for a personal manager and seems interested in me."

"Really! Papa, if you signed her that would be awesome! We'd get free tickets to all their shows. I gotta tell Em!"

"Now hold on lad!" Robert exclaimed just as the boy was about to redial Emma's number. Let's not put the cart before the horse. I said she's interested, not that she'd sign with me and don't you think a member of a band wanting her own manager is kind of odd especially since this means she wants to fire her father as manager? There tensions in this group I should know about?"

"None that I've read about lately fan message boards or magazines," was Neal's reply.

"Then I'll have to question her about it when we meet her."

"Don't you think you should listen to their stuff first," Neal suggested, handing his father a CD case. Robert glanced down at the CD. The artwork was both stunning and disturbing. It was a drawing of a haunted house with a woman standing in front of it, her white gown stained with blood. The title of the CD was Fall of the House of Usher.

"You weren't exaggerating when you said Ms Chamonceaux seems to enjoy reading Poe. Is this just the title of the album or does she actually reference the story in it?"

"Yep. All their albums are from book titles. Fall of the House of Usher was their first album. After that was Grapes of Wrath. Their new album is Scarlet Letter."

"I don't think Poe, Steinbeck and Hawthorne would appreciate some girl using their books as inspiration for trashy music," Robert muttered, handing the disc back to his son. "Hearing it at that concert is going to be painful enough for me."

Neal smirked. "If you say so."

"What's that look for?" his father demanded.

"Nothing," the boy replied yet his expression remained the same.

"Neal Byron Gold, out with it!"

"You'll just be surprised, that's all." Neal said evasively.

"Would you care to elaborate on that?" Robert pressed, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at his son.

"Nope," the boy replied, still smiling.

"All right smartass, just for that I'm going add another chore to your list, one of your favorites. You'll be cleaning the ladies room at my office every day after school," Robert informed his son, with an evil grin.

Neal grimaced. "Eww Papa that means I have to clean up...freakin gross," he grumbled as images of his previous experience cleaning up said room replayed in his mind. Cleaning the ladies restroom in his father's office was more of a punishment than a chore.

"Well then maybe you'll be thinking twice before you decide to be smart with me again, now won't you dearie?"

"Yeah."

"All right then, lights out. You've got school in the morning."

"Night, Papa," Neal lay down and turned his back to his father.

Robert turned off the light and closed the door. Neal lay still for several minutes until he heard his father's bedroom door close. Then he grabbed his phone off the nightstand and had it redial Emma's number, praying she was still awake. She answered immediately.

"Yeah?"

"Em...you are not going to believe this but...Belle Chamonceaux is interested in my papa being her manager!" Neal whispered.

"Why you whispering? Oh shit I forgot. You have to be in bed at nine. Really, can't you get your dad to give you another hour?"

"I gotta play it cool for now since he's helping pay for the concert."

"You said Belle wants your dad to be her manager Are you bullshitting me or is for this real?"

"It's real. And uhhh..he's coming to the concert with us."

"Oh God!" Emma groaned. "Why? What's he gonna wear? A suit and tie? We'll be laughed out of the stadium!"

"I think he's planning on talking to Belle when we meet her after the concert."

"Neal if your dad becomes Belle's manager..."

"I know! We'd have first dibs on everything! Oh and I tried to get him to listen to Usher but he wouldn't. He said it's trash."

"He's nuts! Usher is epic and Belle's a frickin goddess!"

"You think they'll do anything from Usher or just stuff from Scarlet Letter?"

"I dunno. Scarlet Letter just came out so they gotta promote it. It'll probably be mostly stuff from Wrath and that."

"I can't wait to see the look on Papa's face when he hears their stuff. He likes opera and classical music so Ligeia is pretty much right up his alley. Not to mention Belle is hot."

"What'm I, chopped liver?" Emma demanded, unable to disguise the jealousy in her voice.

"Oh, you know you're hot to me babe."

She snorted. "Slick move, Gold. Real slick."

"I gotta get to sleep before Papa comes in here and catches me. Talk to you tomorrow at school."

"Okay."

In his own room Robert was sitting on his bed with his laptop open, reading through and replying to some emails from his clients and business associates, his Ipod playing some selections from his favorite operas. His musical tastes were diverse but he drew the line at the growling and screaming his son called gothic metal, death metal or whatever the hell it was. From what he understood many of the kids who listened to that music had emotional problems yet Neal wasn't like that. They'd always been close but there were times when Robert worried that he'd failed his son by not keeping the boy's mother happy enough to stay with them. He often broached the subject with his therapist but Dr Hopper saw no indications that Neal was ever disappointed in his father or missed his mother.

Out of curiosity he typed the name Ligeia into the search bar of his browser and waited for the results to appear. One directed him to the band's website. He clicked on the link and was taken to a page with links to each band member's biography, clicking on Belle's name. A photograph of a beautiful young woman with auburn hair and blue eyes appeared on the screen. She was not a girl, her birthdate made her thirty-one years old, almost twenty years his junior with an advanced education in both literature and music. As he read further he found himself smiling when he realized they shared some of the same musical and literary interests. On the bottom of her biography was a link to a music video for a song called 'The Haunted Palace' from the album Fall of the House of Usher. He clicked on the link, surprised to hear orchestral music combined with modern guitars, drums, percussion and bass followed by an image of Belle in a torn golden gown standing in front of a palace in decay, a broken crown at her feet. Once the instrumental introduction to the song ended, Belle started walking toward the decaying palace and opened her mouth to sing. He'd been expecting to hear the same growling and screaming that was dominant in other music Neal listened to not a beautiful, operatic yet haunting voice putting music to the words from the poem Poe included in Fall of the House of Usher. He stared at the screen mesmerized both by her beauty and the sadness and longing she expressed through her body movements and her voice. He didn't realize he'd been increasing the volume on his laptop until it reached the maximum limit until he saw his son standing in the doorway, smirking. Robert paused the video.

"Aren't you supposed to be in bed?" he demanded, not quite sure what made him more angry, his son being awake past his bedtime or interrupting him while he was letting himself be seduced by the siren on his laptop screen.

"I told you!" Neal taunted. "Well, what's the verdict?"

"She's...she's...amazing" he murmured.

"She's a frickin' goddess!" Neal exclaimed.

Robert's eyes drifted back to his laptop screen. Oh yes, he thought. In tattered gold behind a pile of rubble yet any man would still want her like they wanted Venus rising from the sea.

Neal watched his father unable to believe what he was seeing. He knew that look. It was the one of a man head over heels in love with a woman, the same one he carried for a year until he finally built up the courage to ask Emma out. His father hadn't dated in a long time and he never liked the women Robert brought home anyway but he would make an exception for his goddess.

Oh my God. My father has a crush...on Belle Chamonceaux!

"You should be getting back to bed lad but before you do, would you mind bringing those CDs in for me?"

"Yeah but if you're gonna have a Ligeia fest I'm not gonna be able to sleep."

Robert scowled. "Nice try, dearie. I'll be putting my headphones on."

"Awww shit!"

"Neal Bryon Gold, language! Or do you want me to break out my old bar of Irish Spring?"

"Sorry Papa."

"I hope you don't talk like that at school."

"No."

"You better not or you'll be getting a soap mouthwash," Robert threatened.

"I don't," Neal lied.

"Off to bed then."

Neal chuckled. Before he started dating Emma, watching Ligeia's videos and dreaming about Belle Chamonceaux was his way of coping with his own loneliness. It wasn't that he didn't have other friends, he did, but they all had girlfriends which left him with nothing else to do on the nights they all went out on dates. Now that Neal was happy, he wanted his father to find his own happiness. It wasn't long before the boy was asleep.

Immediately after his son left the room, Robert put Fall of the House of Usher into his laptop's drive and copied all of the songs so that he could transfer them to his Ipod. When he picked up the case for the second disc Grapes of Wrath he frowned. Unlike the previous CD, this one featured an angry looking Belle on the front cover, squeezing a handful of grapes that dripped blood. He turned the case over and glanced at the tracklist, smiling when he saw she'd done a cover of Queen's Somebody To Love.

He took that CD out and picked up the last one. The cover for it had Belle standing in front of a cemetery wearing a black wedding dress holding a bouquet of black roses with a large red letter F embroidered into the bodice instead of an A as Hester Prynne wore in the classic novel. Bed of Lies, Blissful Ignorance, Buy My Silence, Slaughter My Innocence why am I thinking this album her story? Robert pondered as he inserted the disc. He skipped through to the song Bed of Lies and opened the CD booklet to find the lyrics and as he read through them and listened to them being expressed through her haunting voice, his hands shook with rage. If I ever get my hands on whoever did this to her, I'll kill him!