Chapter one

Josephine DeBeaux stepped out of the carriage and stared at the huge building before her eyes. This place from now on will be her new home, career, and sanctuary. She had been waiting for months for this moment to finally come, and now here she was at the world renowned Opera Populaire.

"Josephine, are you listening to me?"

She turned to the voice who addressed her. "Yes, Madame, I am. Please continue," she replied politely.

"Were you now? Hmm, what did I just say Josephine?" asked Madame Giry, who, tilting her head curiously as she observed Josephine, Mme. knew perfectly well that Josephine did not know what she was asking of her.

Feeling very much like a fool, Josephine blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

"You were telling me to never… uh… never walk the grounds of the opera house alone at night?" she asked timidly, giving a nervous giggle.

As far as Mme. Giry was aware, that was a question rather an answer. Knowing that Josephine was indeed not listening, but chose to ignore the matter, Mme. Giry went on with her speech.

"Josephine, listen to me. The opera house is a very large place ma petite, with many rooms and doors. It is very easy for one to get lost if you are not familiar with the grounds. Since it is your first day, don't wonder off from the other dancers. Also, stay clear of the trap door as well; you could get hurt."

She nodded her head, but her curiosity got the best of her. "Trap doors, Madame? Trap doors for what? What's their purpose?"

Madame Giry was afraid of that; Josephine was by far one of the most curious young girls. Save for Meg, that is.

"Where do these trap doors lead to?"

"Nowhere you want to end up alone, my dear."

Something in Madame Giry's voice caused a cold chill to run down Josephine's spine. Josephine looked back at the building – a look of discouragement on her face. One could feel very small compared to the massive building. Josephine cast her eyes down, tugging on a lock of hair, twisting it around her fingers: a nervous habit since childhood.

Seeing this, Madame Giry embraced Josephine, holding her tightly like she had always done with Meg at times like these.

"Come, come, come, my dear. There is nothing to be afraid of. You have trained very hard to be here."

"But what if I'm not ready? What if I fall off the stage in our first performance!"

"You will do nothing of the sort my dear - you are ready. Have you forgotten who has taught you?"

Madame Giry pulled away, raising a delicate eye brow and smiled.

"You have, Madame."

"That's right," she pulled Josephine back into a hug. "I know talent when I see it, child," she said, stroking Josephine's long hair. Hearing Josephine's sigh of content was when Mme pulled away.

"You have nothing to fear, the managers don't let just any dancer into the Corps de ballet. Besides, you'll be dancing in the same place your maman and I first started studying to become ballerinas."

Josephine smiled brightly, but as quickly as it came, it disappeared back into a frown.

"It still hurts to think of them," she managed to say in a broken whisper.

I wish you were with me mama… papa, she thought, biting her bottom lip. Shaking her head, she forces a smile, in spite of her sad façade.

Madame Giry placed both hands on the side of Josephine's face, looking into her unique shade of amber eyes.

"This should be one of the happiest days of your life ma cherie, hmm?"

"You're right, I'm being silly."

"Josephine, you're a strong young woman with a good head on your shoulders. If at any time, my dear, you're frustrated or angry use it towards your benefit."

Josephine made a face. "I don't understand Madame I-"

"You're a dancer, are you not? Use that energy to proceed in your dancing technique. Doing so will set your mind and body at ease and after you'll feel much better." Mme. Giry winked, flashing a white smile.

"Thank you so much, Madame, for everything. I don't know where I would be if not for your kindness and guidance."

"Your mother was like a sister to me. I look at you as a daughter of my own. Now that she is no longer with us, I have you. I just hope you don't get into trouble like your mother did when she was your age!"

Madame Giry hid her laughter behind her gloved hand, and Josephine giggled along with her. As their laughter subsided, the doors to the Populaire opened. That was the cue for Josephine to head inside and become a dancer.

"Go on now, you don't want to be late."

"Will you come with me? I'm sure you want to come inside and visit your old friends? No doubt they'll be happy to see you, Madame."

Madame Giry shook her head. "I don't think so, my dear," she said sadly.

That's not a surprise, Josephine thought. She had tried her best to convince Mme to become the ballet headmistress again, but to no avail; Mme did not change her mind. When asked 'why' her reply was, 'too many accidents,' while shaking her head. She would always have a distant look in her eyes, like she was remembering something she did not wish to. As though the image would not go away…

Poor Madame Giry, Josephine mused, this used to be your home. Why not do away with those old ghosts and come back? This building holds so many memories of you and my mother, why not rekindle those old memories? Start a new beginning?

Bidding Madame Giry good-bye, Josephine made her way up the stairs towards the double doors. But before she could go inside, Giry's voice called to her.

"Don't forget! Shoulders back, back straight, chin up… you're a dancer, remember: confidence and grace."

Josephine smiled while nodding. After blowing Mme. Giry a kiss, she turned and disappeared inside the massive building.

"Have fun ma petite… and be careful. I don't want to lose you…"

Antoinette Giry blew one last kiss in the air, hoping some how it would make its way to Josephine. With one last look at her old home, Antoinette turned and waited to be helped inside by the handsome driver. Once inside, she let her tears fall freely without shame.

"She will be fine," she reassured herself. "She's a bright girl…"

You should have warned her though, about him, whispered a voice in the back of her paranoid mind.

"Those who speak of what they know, find too late that prudence silence is wise…"

***

As I made my way through the grand foyer my mouth dropped! I had forgotten how beautiful it was! The fire didn't ruin the front of the building; it looked exactly as it had the night of the Populaire's final performance.

Don Juan Triumphant… that was a performance I would never forget. Not to mention that lead tenor had the most angelic voice. He was my inspiration…

"So beautiful," I whispered, trying to take in as much as my eyes could. Images from that night played before my eyes, oh, how excited I was…

I remember it as though it were yesterday. Mama spent all day getting ready, making sure everything we wore was perfect. I too spent all day, I was so excited! I couldn't remember the last time I'd been so anxious; I wore my best gown that night. It was a light blue satin gown trimmed with white lace, and I wore my hair up letting just a few wisps of hair out. Mama even let me use her favorite comb-(a white diamond rose, a gift from papa. He had her initials engraved just below the rose)-to make everything complete.

Before long we were on our way, and it had only taken us twenty minutes to arrive at the Populaire. But with my excitement it honestly felt like hours, I couldn't sit still in my seat! Granted, I was only 15 at the time, I had to settle down when mama gave me "The Look".

The moment that I stepped in the auditorium I knew I wanted to study the Arts. I had been dancing since I was able to walk, and I was sure that my place was in the Arts. Dancing along with singing is my passion. Just being near this grand building inspired me! Every time my mother spoke about the Arts I secretly wished I was there studying them. At the time I didn't have the heart to leave them behind, but I was only a child then.

As soon as the orchestra began to play the music of Don Juan I was mesmerized. On stage a young soprano came out from the wings in a gypsy costume and sang to the center stage. She sang she was dreaming of love.

Intrigued, I leaned forward in my seat to get a better look. My father leaned in close to me and whispered in my ear, "You can sing much better then she can, my dear."

His words made me blush. Looking up at my father he nudged my arm playfully which caused me to giggle.

Oh, papa, I thought. My giggles faltered when his voice caught my attention, the lead tenor with the black domino mask. As he moved across the stage, it was uncanny, so graceful, almost cat like. He was intimidating in build and commanding in voice as he sang. And yet it was all the more alluring now that I think about it.

The words he sang felt as though they were meant for no one else but me…

"You have come here

In pursuit of your deepest urge

In pursuit of that wish which till now

Has been silent

Silent...

I have brought you

That our passions may fuse and merge

In your mind you've already succumbed to me

Dropped all defenses

Completely succumbed to me

Now you are here with me no second thoughts

You've decided...

Decided."

Feeling like my body was being lifted off my chair by the music and his voice, I had decided that I was going to come and study the Arts at the Populaire no matter what. I want to let my passion for dancing singing flow out of my body like water flowing across stream.

I am going to do it, I thought. It didn't matter what I had to do to get there. Here and now, this masked tenor was making it all too clear for me. If I wanted to do this I had to do it now, no more dreaming or make believe, what could have been or could be.

"Past the point of no return

No backward glances

Our games of make believe are at an end

Past all thoughts of "if" or "when"

No use resisting abandon thought and let the dream descend…

What raging fire shall flood the soul?

What rich desire unlocks its door?

What sweet seductions lies before us?

Past the point of no return

The final threshold

What warm unspoken secrets will we learn

Beyond the point of no return?"

Oblivious to everyone but the man before me, his song ended, breaking the spell that had clouded my mind. It was now the young soprano's turn to sing, but I couldn't help but overhear the couples' chatter behind me.

"That's him Mary, it's him," spat the man behind me.

Leaning back into my chair, I continued to listen to the man speak.

"Oh, Henry, hush!"

"Look, look, do you see the armed guards standing on the sides of the stage? They are going to shoot him!"

"Henry, please hush!"

"He deserves a bullet in the head, that monster, for corrupting this opera house."

Completely taken aback by the older man's cold words, I focused my attention on my hands. They went cold in my lap; I was oblivious to the time I had spent with my head down. The next thing I knew everyone was screaming!

Looking at the audience around me they had a sickening look upon their faces. Every man and woman let out a bloody cry, but I didn't understand why. When I look back towards the stage it was empty! All of a sudden there was a loud rumble from above me, as white debris fell from the roof. The large chandelier was falling, and I was right under it.

"Josephine!"

By now my father was pulling me out of my seat of the auditorium to the outside. There was all sorts of shoving and pushing from the other patrons and wives, but we made it to safety. There was a loud crash that made the earth rumble beneath my feet. While we were outside, the chandelier had fell.

I stood outside of the Opera Populaire with a heavy heart and a torn gown. My mother was in my father's arms weeping, her gown ripped as well. This was a night I would never forget… I heard the voice of an inspiring angel, and I was nearly crushed by a chandelier if not for my father. I reached for my mother's comb to pull it out of my hair, but it was gone; it had to have fallen out while I was running. Sadly I sighed and went to help my father comfort my mother.

The fallowing day I snuck a peek at my fathers paper, I read what really happened that fearful night at the opera. During the performance, the young soprano had torn off the mask of her singing partner, who was later revealed to me as The Phantom of the Opera. What he hid under the mask he wore was exposed by her. I couldn't believe it, really, in the middle of the masked man singing, she went out of her way to rip off the black domino. How could she do something like that?

As I read on he was referred to as a monster, a madman who kidnapped the young singer and her fiancée. The reason behind his actions was later revealed to me by Meg, Mme. Daughter. How can a man with such a beautiful voice, with such talent, become a monster?