At, first, it was easy. Maman and I enrolled in the Opera Populaire because the last opera house wouldn't accept blondes. They though blondes were the devil because a blonde employee pushed one of their managers down the stairs. We were also quite poor, and the Opera Populaire offered more money than many of our other jobs. We had to scrimp and pinch for a while, but we managed to provide for ourselves and for the Phantom of the Opera who lived in the catacombs, sent threatening letters the managers, and hated people. But I didn't know that at the time. I finally found out when I caught Maman bringing a barrel of corn to Box 5 in the middle of the night. She dropped it on the stairs, and was cursing up a storm. I got up to see what pageboy she was harassing. I was pretty mad at the phantom after that. I marched down to Box 5 to give him a piece of my mind.

" What the HELL do you think you're doing!"

No answer. Suddenly I heard a suspicious creaking noise in the back of the box.

" Don't try and pull that phantom crap with me!"

Suddenly the noises stopped. This was getting creepy. I turned the light on. The phantom was standing right in front of me, his arms crossed. He looked ready to sue.

" Why do want our food?"

" What are you doing in Box 5?"

We both glowered at each other.

" Why do you want our food?"

" What are you doing in Box 5?"

" WHY DO YOU WANT OUR FOOD?"

" WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN BOX 5?"

Suddenly, Madame Giry walked in, carrying the barrel of corn.

" Meg, this is Erik, Erik this is Meg."

We both glared at Madame Giry.

" Why is he taking our food?"

" What is she doing in Box 5?"

We scowled at each other.

Madame Giry put down the barrel of corn.

" Meg, why are you in here?"

" I wanted to see why the stupid phantom was taking our food."

I looked at Erik. Erik tried to look dignified and condescending.

" I was not talking your food, I was merely using it for...for, medicinal purposes ", he finished smoothly.

He hoisted up the barrel and casually snapped his fingers. Nothing happened. The phantom continued to snap his fingers until he was red in the face. Eventually he gave up and stalked by us without saying a word, muttering something about transporter beams and rusty trapdoors. I didn't see him for a while after that. I was too busy trying to find out what was gong on with Christine.