Forte had lost count of the number of days he lay on the cold, stone floor of the huge, dark music room. He was no use to anyone, not in this state. A wrecked pipe organ, sheet music strewn all over the floor… everyone must think he was dead. Nobody came in anymore… it was as though they were reluctant, afraid, even. But what was there to be afraid of? After all, he was dead, wasn't he?

No, he wasn't. But they didn't know that. He never bothered crying for help. He was too weak. Anyway, the Beast would not need him now anymore than he did when they were all human. What good would a broken organ do? It was exactly as he predicted, but worse.

He tried to move, but to no avail – all he did was make the ground shake. He sighed, closing his eyes. If this was how he was to spend the rest of his life, then he wanted to die! But he was sure of one thing: he never, ever, wanted to be human again.

Wait a minute. The ground was still shaking, but how? He had given up on trying getting up. He had been imagining it, he was sure of it. No, he wasn't! It was shaking more violently now, and the rumbling was getting louder. What was happening?

Suddenly, he saw the room change dramatically before his eyes. The walls turned from dark grey to brilliant white, the stone floor was immediately covered in shiny pearl coloured tiles, a gold desk and a smart red velvet chair stood in one corner of the room, a marble statue in the other.

Forte felt himself being pulled upwards by an invisible force, and a burst of light appeared from the centre of the room. Light so bright, Forte had to shield his eyes in order not to become blinded by it –

Shield his eyes? With what? He had no arms, he was an organ… or was he? Come to think of it, he felt strangely light, as though a huge weight had been taken off him.

Then it dawned on him.

Daring to look down at his body, he saw not a jumbled mess of gold metal, but a human torso complete with arms and legs. He examined his hands – pale yet elegant, with long, spidery fingers. No… no, no! How could this be? Why? He wanted to remain how he was! Who could have broken the spell?

He gasped in realisation. The girl! He hadn't killed her with his music after all. She lived, and she had broken the spell…

'Dammit!' he growled angrily.

Forte was now being lowered to the ground. He felt strange. He hadn't walked about in ten years. Then he thought – if he was human, surely the other servants had been transformed, too? He walked towards the window and looked out of it, and saw exactly what he thought he would. On the veranda below him, he saw Lumière, Cogsworth, Mrs Potts, Chip, Belle and… a prince? Who was –?

Ah, of course. The master. The Beast. Except he wasn't brown and furry, with sharp fangs and massive claws. No, he looked just like he did ten years ago, but taller. Blonde hair, large blue eyes… probably as rude and arrogant as he had been before the spell, too. He probably hadn't changed at all. They were all celebrating at the fact that they were human again… how stupid. It wasn't that great being human. They would never have understood what it had been like for him before… the way he was never needed or wanted by anyone, the way the prince found his music gloomy and annoying, the way the other servants always moved away from him whenever he neared them…

He turned away from the window and looked around the new music room around him. A huge pipe organ covered the back wall, a feature that he hadn't noticed before. He inched towards it. It had been ten years, ten years, since he had touched the keys of the organ. Could he risk playing it without being heard by the others? He argued with the voices in his head.

Play it.

Should I?

Of course.

I don't know.

Go on… you know you want to…

They'll hear me downstairs! This organ can be heard anywhere in the palace!

They all think you're dead. They'll wonder if they are imagining it.

That's true…

How many years has it been? You know you long to play on it…

Surely it wouldn't hurt just to play one piece on it? He sat on the stool in front of the keys, adjusted it to fit his height, and started to play.

His fingers danced across the keys gracefully, and his body swayed as he played. He closed his eyes and listened to the music as it filled the room, a half-smile tugging the corners of his mouth as he let the sounds wash over him. This was the only positive aspect of being human again. He played for minutes on end, becoming lost in the world that the music was creating around him. The ivory keys were light under his fingers as he played perfect ornaments and arpeggios, so crisp and smooth, his body swaying and moving up and down the keyboard with ease. He was oblivious to everything except the music. He noticed nothing else, nothing.

That was until he felt a hand on his shoulder.

He jumped, his hands leaping off the keys. He quickly turned around and found himself face to face with… the girl. Belle. She hadn't changed either. Light skin, warm, brown eyes and soft brown hair; she was wearing her blue dress with her white apron. Her expression was a mixture of fear, wonder and shock… just as he expected.

She looked like a statue, unmoving. She seemed surprised to see his face. They glared at each other for about a minute or so, and then she spoke his name.

'Belle,' he replied coldly. He then spotted Adam standing behind her. 'Master…' he drawled.

Adam walked towards him angrily.

'You're supposed to be dead!' he said, stopping about a foot away from Forte.

Forte laughed. 'Couldn't get rid of me that easily, could you?'

'But Maestro…' whispered Belle, 'with all due respect… we saw you – you weren't moving – we assumed you had – '

'Were you really that naïve to think that I was dead?' he spat, 'Tell me, how can a pipe organ die? It has no heart, no brain, nothing! Just metal! Yes, I fell from the wall. That was it. I gather none of you came back after that day. But I was still there… day after day… week after week… month after month.'

There was a pause. Belle looked away, fidgeting.

'I guess I'll be going,' Forte continued, tearing his gaze away from Belle and getting up to move towards the door, 'after all, what use will I be to you? The moody, dark, court composer amidst all these festivities, bound to be a killjoy… nobody wants that, do they? I'm sure you don't want me here, either.'

Adam said nothing.

'W-where will you go?' asked Belle timidly.

'Oh, Calais, perhaps. Toulouse. I might even escape France altogether. Germany, maybe. Greece, Japan...'

'Stay!' said Belle suddenly, looking from Forte to Adam. They both stared at her in shock.

'What?' they said in unison.

'Belle,' began Adam, moving quickly towards her and whispering in her ear, 'you can't be serious… he has to go… he doesn't want to stay here any more than I want him to… and Fife has taken his place – he's right: what use will he be to us?'

She looked at her prince.

'Where else will he go?' Belle asked, 'besides, maybe we could talk to him about… we will find a use for him – but we can't just throw him out, not like this.'

They looked at each other. Finally, Adam nodded reluctantly, then walked out, leaving Belle and Forte alone.

'Why?' asked Forte. His expression was unreadable.

'You need to explain what your motives were that day you tried to kill us all… and, to tell you the truth, I think there is more to you than meets the eye.'

A flitter of shock showed on Forte's face, but was soon replaced by his usual sour expression.

'Anyway,' she continued, 'I just couldn't bring myself to let you go like this…'

This time it was his turn to look away.

'I don't know why you're being kind to me,' he said quietly, 'I was expecting you to just leave me to get on with the rest of my life! But, I suppose the prince is still my master – and when you get married you will rule alongside him… so I haven't got any choice but to stay, have I?'

'I hope that we can get along, Maestro,' Belle said kindly, 'no, I haven't forgotten about what you did and some time during the next few weeks I hope we can talk about it. As for now, however… your room is exactly how it was – we haven't touched it. I'm not sure when the other servants were planning to go in there and clear it out but seeing as you're… alive… there won't be any need for that…'

With that, she smiled gently at him and left the room, leaving Forte to think about what he had just heard. He didn't deserve her kindness... or her pity.

I hope that we can get along, Maestro.

Get along? He wanted nothing to do with this wretched girl! She had ruined all his plans to stay as a pipe organ, which had been the only time when he felt wanted, and now she wanted them both to get along! But she had been right about something else...

I think there is more to you than meets the eye.

'Maybe there is, Belle,' he muttered to himself, 'maybe there is.'