Grinning like a kid on Christmas, I squeed and did a tiny, excited dance over to the note. Hastily, I opened the note and read it eagerly.

Greetings,

Welcome to my Opera. You have a marvelous voice and will do well here, so long as you abide by my rules. You must obey every command I give you, and you are not to venture down to the cellars. You will learn the rest as you go along.

Your obedient servant, O.G

I put the note in the drawer of my vanity, intending to hoard it and build a shrine to it later. Sleep did not come easy after that excitement. In the morning, I brushed my teeth, washed my face, combed and braided my hair, then dressed and rushed to the stage. The libretto was waiting for me, and I did my best to memorize it in between meeting the cast. After a while, everyone started to blend together. I was saved when rehearsals started. The chorus members were the only ones needed for the moment, so I sat by and went over the libretto in peace.

Just as I was needing a break, we all went down to the kitchens for lunch. These, I was told, were originally included for the parties often thrown at the Opera. As everyone chattered around me, I stayed silent, lost in my own musings.

"-have to find more staff, after that note the managers found."

Blinking, I sat up suddenly and looked around.

"Wait, what happened?" I asked.

"The managers found a note in their office, from the Phantom! He's back, and now I must replace five scene shifters!"

"What, he killed them?"

"No. Cowards ran off when they found out that bastard returned."

"Don't call him that," I snapped reflexively.

The man stared at me. "What?"

"Uh, I umm – that – that's a little rude, don't you think?"

"You weren't here before that Daae girl ran off," he answered, "You have no idea how rude he can be."

I opened my mouth to argue he was trying to run his theater so it could be the best it could be, and then I closed my mouth. Some versions of the story said he built the Opera, others claimed he was the true owner, still more reported he only grew up here. There were so many different versions, how was I to know the truth? What right did he really have to order people about and command such a salary?

"Does anyone know how to get in contact with him?" I asked instead.

"Hold a séance," a girl muttered, and laughter broke out among the cast and crew, turning my cheeks pink.

"You don't get in contact with the Phantom," the man I'd been talking to told me, "He gets in contact with you."

"Wait – has he contacted you?" the chorus girl asked me.

I ignored her and addressed the man again. "There must be someone who has seen him," I pressed,

"Ah, I done told you – wait. Now that I think on it, there is one person. She don't see him, exactly, but she helps manage his affairs, sort of. Madame Giry, the box keeper. Talk to her, yeah?"

"Thank you," I murmured, dropping the subject and returning to my lunch, "I'll do that."

After we had our fill of food, it was back to work. The lead man, Gaspard, introduced himself to me. I hoped we would get along well, as we would be working together quite a bit. Luckily, Gaspard was a cheerful individual, who went out of his way to put me at ease. This he did by speaking to me in English.

"I hear you are from America, oui?"

"That's right," I smiled extending a hand, "My name is Sarah. It's nice to meet you. You can speak French with me if you like. I am competent enough."

"But you are more than that!" he exclaimed, still in English even though I spoke French, "Your accent is very good."

"Thank you. Your English is excellent."

He smiled. Taking my hand, he kissed the back of it instead of shaking it like I expected. I blushed at this, but he was kind enough not to tease me. We started by going through all of the songs, singing all of the libretto where our parts were. He was a very good tenor, and we sounded well together. As important as our relationship was, we had to have a good relationship with Gabriel, the conductor. The way the music flowed impacted the way we sang, the way we adjusted to tiny, minute details. After that, we did a little blocking, working out how we would move on stage. The day had been long and hard, but I was satisfied.

"You are new to Paris, no?" Gaspard asked. When I nodded, he continued, "You must let me take you to dinner!"

"Ah, I really shouldn't," I replied, "I've still got a lot of work to do."

Gaspard blinked. "What work?"

I held up the libretto. "I still have to memorize this. And I want to work on the singing more."

Gabriel's head snapped up, while Gaspard scratched his.

"But we have time," Gaspard coaxed, "Opening night is not for a while."

"I'd rather get it done now," I said firmly, "The sooner I get this memorized, get off book, get the libretto out of my hand, the sooner I can be more focused on what I'm doing."

Gabriel practically leaped onto the stage. The conductor ran over to me, grabbed my head, a hand on each side, and kissed me on both cheeks.

"You are a wonderful girl! The angels themselves sent you to me!" he babbled, "If I had more like you, I would be the happiest man in the whole world! Thank you! Thank you so much!"

Bemused, I tried to get away from his hugging, but he let me go suddenly and rounded on Gaspard.

"You should work as hard! All of you! This is a job, no? Act like it! At least she does! My god, you all could learn something from her! No wonder she is so good!"

Gaspard stood there sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. He endured the conductor's tirade, then spoke meekly when he was finished.

"I am sorry, Gabriel. She's crazy, what can I say? It's not my fault."

"Pah, crazy!" Gabriel glared at Gaspard and shook a finger furiously at him. "You're the ones that are crazy, taking no pride in your work! So lazy, shame on you!"

I snuck away to the kitchens while they carried on. I had a light dinner and went back to my room, where I spent the remainder of the night working. Sleep was easier tonight, and I woke the next morning refreshed, ready to start my third day in Paris. After getting ready and eating breakfast, I went in search of Madam Giry.

"Excuse me?" I said to her, "Can you manage a meeting for me with the phantom?"

Her eyes widened, and she began to walk away. "I'm sorry, I cannot help you."

"Wait!" I grabbed her arm and spoke quickly, "Please, it's important to me. Look, I know he gets his instructions to you. Could you at least pass along a letter from me?"

She stared at me like I had three heads. "No one has given a note to him before," she said.

"First time for everything."

"Very well. Write your letter."

I borrowed some pen and paper from the office nearby. I dipped the pen in ink, gathered my thoughts, and wrote,

Monsieur Phantom,

My name is Sarah, and it's a pleasure to be in your Opera. I wonder if you would do me the honor of a personal visit in my dressing room one night? It is rather difficult to have a good conversation through only notes, and I think you'll find we have a few things to talk about.

I enclosed the paper in an envelope, sealed it with wax, and gave it to Madame Giry. Pleased, I went to rehearsals and spent the day working. Gaspard once more tried to get me to go to dinner, and once more, I refused him. I sat in my dressing room after dinner, reviewing the libretto. I was pretty sure I had it memorized by now, so tonight was just to be sure. When the sonorous baritone voice spoke, I jumped, not expecting him tonight, if at all.

"Mademoiselle, what is it you wished to speak to me about?"

I looked around, but there was no one in the room. It sounded like I was coming from all around, but I was wise to that trick, and knew he was hiding behind the mirror. And what a voice! Now I knew I had been right to be picky about the Phantom's voice, because I had never heard anything like this before. It was the king of voice you wanted to listen to all day, no matter what it spoke of, as long as it kept talking.

"Mademoiselle?"

Blushing, I smoothed my hands over my clothes. Funny how I had called him here, and now I was speechless!

"Sarah, please. Ah, what should I call you? It can't be monsieur phantom!"

There was a long pause. Then he said, "If I tell you, it must be known only to you."

"I promise."

"Erik."

I smiled. So that was right.

"You know, I feel funny talking to an empty room. Won't you come out?"

"No."

His tone was firm, and I knew I wasn't gong to change his mind tonight, so I let the subject drop for now.

"Alright. Well, you'll be pleased to know rehearsals are going smoothly."

"I see. Is that all?"

"No. It's occurred to me that you might need a friend, you being alone and all. I'm new to Paris, so I don't have anyone either."

"I... do not have friends. I am not certain I can..."

"We can try, can't we?"

"I suppose. If that is what you wish."

"It is. Thank you, Erik. I just wonder, if I need to reach you, and contacting you through Madame Giry will take too long, what am I to do?"

"Just call my name. I will hear you, no matter where you are in my Opera. Though do remember, it's to be kept a secret as much as possible. If you are not in immediate danger, do not call for me outside this room."

I blinked. "You would come for me, if I called to you for help?"

"Yes."

I flushed with pleasure. "Very well. Good night, Erik."

"Good night, Sarah."

As I laid down for sleep, my mind whirled with ideas to draw him out of the shadows. I'd have to be very careful, and it would take a while, but eventually, I would succeed. I believed him to be a good man, he only needed someone that would understand. I doubted Erik would fall in love with me, but even as a friend, I could show him some joy in life.