A/N: Chapter dos! I started writing this almost as soon as I published the first chapter, and I finished it at four-something in the morning last night after fireworks.

Once again, I own nothing, save my OC, Adrienne Louvier.


"Again!" The loud voice of Madame Giry, coupled with the thud of her cane against the ground was enough to make anyone jump, but slowly, Adrienne was becoming accustomed to the sharpness of the woman. Her daughter Meg was well on the way to becoming a close friend of the girl's. Beyond that she was a spectacular dancer, and by her guidance, Adrienne felt she could learn how to better her own talents. They helped each other, in some ways. Over time she had developed a habit of sneaking out to the stage at night when all others lay asleep, dancing until her feet tired out, and dreaming of crowds applauding her every move, and on nights that proved themselves riskier than others, Meg was there to make sure she wasn't caught.

As was normal when you place a large number of young girls in the same room, gossip and stories ran rampant, one of the most popular being that of the great Phantom of the Opera. There were those that said he had survived the great fire, and still lived within the depths of the opera house, skulking about in the shadows. Adrienne paid such stories no mind, lest she fall to paranoia and suspicion as some of her fellow dancers had. She saw the way they glanced around when mention of the Opera Ghost arose in conversation. In her mind, it was better to place her focus on her dancing, rather than on silly superstition. After all, that was all it was. Right?

On a night when rehearsals ran late, a light sweat glistened on porcelain skin as Adrienne danced alongside her fellow ballerinas. Madame had made them repeat the last string of movements roughly five or six times, as they just hadn't seemed to perform it correctly by her standards. Sooner or later she gave them a respite, ordering them to move on to the next bit of the dance, though they would return to correct their mistakes later.


She seemed to dance with not just her arms and legs, but the whole of her body. She gave all she had during practice and yet still she somehow found time to sneak back to do more when all the others lay asleep. It intrigued him, though it more than likely should not have, but for whatever reason, he found himself watching her, both now during regular practices, and later, in the darkness of the night. To harbour interest in a member of the Opera Populaire's cast was not something he had ever wished to return to, not after the way it had almost destroyed him before. Christine, he thought. His angel of music. She had kept him tied to her, dragging him along with each lovely note that fell from her lips, each innocent look in those beautiful doe eyes. But then she had betrayed him, unmasking him to the world, subjecting his ears to their screams of horror and disgust, snatching away his one remaining wall of safety and then abandoning him to run away with her precious Vicomte. She had shattered his heart, if not his mind as well, and left him an empty vessel, alone in the darkness with not even his beloved music to comfort him. It was all gone. In the end, he had turned out to be nothing more than a monster desperate to believe himself a man.

But, where Christine's potential lay in her voice, this woman's was found within her dancing. Perhaps it could be different this time if...

No. No, such thoughts as those were dangerous. For history to repeat itself would make him not only a monster, but a fool as well. He could not afford any interest in any of these girls, lest he find himself falling to pieces, this time with no one there to pick them up again. Antoinette's trust and aid only extended so far, and he doubted the woman would tolerate him again, or help him to flee when he undoubtedly led himself, and his beloved Opera Populaire, into disaster once more. To develop any sort of deep feeling for this woman would lead him only to ruin.

But perhaps he could teach her...

Removing himself further into the comfort of the shadows, the masked man disappeared once more, this time to contemplate the possible gains and consequences of tutorship. After all, to leave such a vast amount of potential unattended would be a crime in itself would it not?


Adrienne's breath was heavy; her limbs aching by the time Madame Giry ordered the dancers to bed. Many moaned in relief as they stretched the cramps from their legs whilst trudging through hallways and up the stairs to bed. As she moved to enter the dormitories with the other girls, a hand caught her arm, and she looked up to meet Madame Giry's gaze. With a simple nod of her head, she motioned for Adrienne to follow. Moving away from the rest of her troupe, the young woman racked her brain for anything she may have done wrong, ready to apologize for whatever it was the moment she found opportunity to speak.

As they walked along, the girl's nerves rose in abundance. Whatever the subject of their discussion, the woman obviously did not want any of the other girls to happen upon it. By now they had come to the woman's office, and as she held open the door, Adrienne made her way hastily inside. Madame Giry entered behind her, stepping over to a cabinet, where she removed a small glass and a bottle filled with an amber coloured liquid. Adrienne's brow rose as the woman set the glass before her, filling it somewhere around half way.

"You may need that."

She was offering her drink? Such behavior would be strange for most in this opera house, but for Madame? It meant something. She opened her mouth to speak, but was quickly cut off as the woman turned from her yet again, this time returning with a single red rose in hand, accented with simple black ribbon. As she placed it in Adrienne's hands, the girl looked down at it curiously, the pads of her fingers smoothing over the fabric of the ribbon.

"He wishes to meet you."

Her eyes found her mentors in confusion. "He, Madame?"

"The Phantom."

Her brows furrowed. The Phantom. The one she'd heard about? The main focus of so many stories that she had always assumed to be more or less a work of fiction? As realization dawned on her that all she'd heard was true, her eyes widened.

"The Phantom of the Opera...he-he's real?" She looked down once more to the rose in her hand. Her thoughts were racing. He was real. And he wanted to meet her. Looking up to the woman before her for some sort of confirmation and finding it laced within the look in her eyes., Adrienne's gaze fell on the tumbler glass and she quickly reached for it, downing its contents without a second thought, then cringing as it burned its way down her throat. She had never been one for drinks. And then she asked one of three questions coursing through her mind.

"Why me?" Though she supposed that was truly the only question that mattered.

"He has seen something in you when you dance. A potential not yet unlocked and one that is beyond my reach." Beyond the reach of Madame Giry? The thought alone seemed a preposterous one. The shock for a moment clouded her reaction that such a mystery of a man thought of her so highly, or at all.

"He wishes you to meet him in the same place you spend most your nights." She knew? Looking to the woman, Adrienne moved to explain herself.

"Madame, I-" The woman simply held up her hand to halt her words.

"Very little goes unnoticed in this opera house mademoiselle Louvier." Her voice sounded almost understanding. After a moment, she motioned to the door. "Go. Before you are late. The stage will be lit when you arrive."

Quietly, the young woman stood to her feet, allowing them to carry her from the room as her mind swam through an endless river of questions and confusion. She had no idea what she could expect from this night, but it seemed she would soon find out.


Reviews? Anyone? Next chapter they meet!