Disclaimer: I don't own any the Phantom of the Opera

A thanks goes out to Experimental Madness for being my beta on this story and making it much better.

xxxx

To Angela, Paris was a carnival of souls, crowds of gaily-dressed folk flocked to the latest rage. Candlelights were strung up around late night café's, prostitutes and whores clung to the shadows, wrapped in tight dresses and whistling at men who shambled past with darkened eyes. She knew each and every one. Not their names, but every time one got near to her, she knew their life and knew when, where, and how they would die. Angela paused as a cloud passed over the sun. She was moving with the crowd' try playing off of her discomfort at being one with the crowd.

As she approached the Opera Populaire, Angela couldn't believe how grand and beautiful the building was. The April sun illumined the columns, arches, busts, friezes, and reliefs. It shone on marble, bronze, stone, and wood. Along the top of the building were rows of masks. She paused to read the words, Academie Nationale De Musique.

She then moved on through the large doors. Again she paused to look around. She was in awe of the amount of painted art and sculpture that decorated the main hallway. Half-naked muses, gods and goddesses stood everywhere; they lined the walls, the staircase, even the ceiling, almost as though the Opera House was the true home of the divine beings. She moved toward the bottom of the grand marble stairway just as an attendant came up to her, asking her all sorts of questions.

"Please monsieur, I happen to be in desperate need of a new job. Is there any owners or managers in that I can speak to?" Angela asked the man.

He nodded curtly. "If you'd like I can get you in to see the managers, but I can promise nothing beyond that."

"I would greatly appreciate that," she said, flashing her sweetest smile. The moment the man walked off the smile faded. Again she looked around and closed her eyes. The Council had put a limit on her powers while she was on Earth, but she could still have some of them. She just wasn't allowed to appear to this Erik in her true form yet. She took a deep breath and called out. Her call allowed her to see through out the span of several miles. In her third eye she looked for the man she had to locate. Her 'eye' had made it as far as the back stage when she was interrupted. The attendant had come back.

"Mademoiselle? The managers can see you now." The attendant took her to a large office room with two men sitting in it. He showed her in and left.

They looked her up and down with undisguised interest. She knew she looked rather odd. Her true look would be too shocking for humans. "I hear you're looking for a place in our opera. What makes you think you're worthy of our attention? What are you looking for? What can you do?" one of them asked, his eyes not quite on her face.

"I-" she paused. She had no idea on how to get into the company. There were many jobs, but she didn't know of any others but as a singer. "I-I'm a singer."

"Indeed. I should like to hear that!" exclaimed the second man.

She nodded once and hit them with the full power of her 'voice'. Borrowing the true angles voices, she cheated her way in. She didn't dare use her own. They would never give her the 'job' she so needed. When she stopped they looked at each other.

"Not a chorus girl."

"Certainly not. But we can't have her as a Prima Donna. Start her on small roles; give the audiences a taste of her first. We can't just unleash her on the world with no warning."

Angela smirked inside. She waited patiently while they decided how to best get their measly human money's worth out of her. "Of course, Mademoiselle..."

"Angela," she supplied.

"Mademoiselle Angela. We'll work you into the cast first thing tomorrow."

She smiled and left the room. Trying to find her way through the maze of halls she passed back through a hall of dressing rooms. She looked around lost as to where she was. Suddenly a girl appeared at her side. She was rather small and timid looking. Her light blond hair was pulled up simply and she wore a dark green dress.

"Are you lost miss?" she had a rather beautiful voice but it was light, barely above a whisper.

"Yes, I am, see I was just hired and have one idea were to go." Angela smiled.

"You were? What for?"

"Singing. The managers are going to start me out on small parts. But right now I have no place to stay and don't even now were I am." Angela said slowly and carefully.

"Oh, really. Well then I'm sure you can have one of the old empty dressing rooms." The girl said rather cheerfully.

"Great." Angela followed her through the hallway and at the end of it were two lonely doors. One was at the far end and was mostly in shadow. The other was under the last gas lamp. This one, the girl opened. She followed her inside. It was rather dusty and cold but it wasn't like she was going to sleep in there.

"I'm afraid it's rather cold and dirty, but it is the only one that is empty. Mine is one door down. Like this one it is rather cold and dark but I'm so use to it that I cannot seem to stay in another. By the way, my name is Christine Daae."

She had assumed as much. "I am Angela…DeBlunc and this is fine. Now if you excuse me…I am rather tired." Angela said gently.

Christine nodded. "I will see you at rehearsal tomorrow then?" she asked sweetly.

"Yes…"

"Hope to meet you again." Christine smiled then backed out, closing the door.

Angela looked around at the dusty room. She knew that to keep her appearance as a human up she had to clean it and to appear to sleep though she didn't need to sleep.

Waving her hand over the furniture and the tables the dust and cobwebs disappeared.

She snorted. The idea of beauty that humans had. To fit in she had to have what was fashionable in women. Tiny waist and pale skin and a doll face. After that was done she walked up to the mirror and peered at the human form she had taken. She had kept her same height but her hair had darkened to a lighter blonde then Christine's. Her black feline shaped eyes had lightened to a pale blue and her normally white skin now had a shade of pink. But she could not hide the black marks that swirled in an ancient pattern from the left side of her neck down her left arm to her wrist.

The room already cleaned she had no choice but to leave. It was late in the evening and though she was on a mission she still had a job to do. Closing her eyes she barely felt the lurch to Purgatory.