I am so sorry for not updating earlier! I feel so bad.

I had my orchestra concert last night and it went longer than expected so I wasn't able to upload. But on the brighter side, for my spring concert, we're playing a Phantom of the Opera Medley. I'm pretty excited about that!

Some more good news, I've decided to update on Tuesdays and Fridays from now on. A week is just too long to wait.

PhantomFan01: You always make me smile! I love your reviews. I'm sorry I made you wait an extra day.

Now onto the chapter. I hope you enjoy it!

Chapter 3: The Phantom's Lair

Nicolette:

I wake in the swan bed that looks like it's been taken right of the movie. Every phangirl's dream. I start to move when I notice how incredibly sore my head feels. I moan and slump back into the cushions.

Then the Phantom yanks back the curtains and appears right above me, letting in some more light. I pull my arm over my eyes and try to block it out. My feeble attempt doesn't really do anything.

The Phantom has other ideas though and forces me out of the bed. My body aches and I stumble a bit as I try to gain my footing. My headache is killing me. He sighs and picks me up, even though it is rather rough. He carries me into what seems to be a main room with a couch in it, as well as two rather comfortable looking chairs. He deposits me on the couch next to a pale looking Stephen.

"I'm no fool," the Phantom explains coldly, cutting right to the issue. "I know you're hiding something. You might as well start by explaining why you're dressed like Christine." He shoots me a rather nasty glare. "And why you're dressed like me." Stephen is the next unfortunate soul to be on the receiving end of that look.

"We were performing," Stephen supplies, "and suddenly we were in the Paris Opera House."

"And where were you performing before?" the Phantom questions cooly. "And why are you dressed like that?"

"We were performing for our high school. I was playing the Phantom of the Opera. Nicolette was playing Christine. Surely you've heard of The Phantom of the Opera by Andrew Lloyd Webber? Love Never Dies? Obviously you have if you've got this kind of set up." Stephen rambles on and on until finally I kick him.

"Stephen, I don't think he's part of the phandom," I hiss.

Stephen raises an eyebrow. "You seriously believe that he's the Phantom of the Opera? That's he's Erik? O.G.?"

The Phantom tenses at the use of his name and I kick Stephen hard again. "Yes. Don't get us killed."

"Nicolette, that's ridiculous"

Stephen laughs but then the Phantom glares at him. He has sharp blue eyes. I let out a sigh. This isn't book Erik so far.

Now, to figure out if he's more like Erik from Yeston's Phantom or like Webber's. Either one of them would be pretty cool. Distracted by thoughts of musicals, I start to hum You Are Music.

The Phantom sighs when he hears that tune. "You are singers?"

We both nod. "Yes!" I reply. "I've always wanted to learn from the Angel of Music."

He stands quickly and in seconds has his fingers pressed to my throat. "I am the Angel of Death," he snarls at me. "You'd do well to remember it. I don't give lessons to ordinary girls like you." He backs off. "They're looking for chorus members. You will audition for me, now, and I will get you spots if you're good enough."

I nod and go first. I sing my classical piece- Nell. The Phantom frowns. "You're voice is fine but you have no passion."

That's the first time I've been told that. "I'm sorry. I don't like that song very much, I'm afraid. And I don't know what it means."

"Then you aren't feeling it as you should," he snaps. "Otherwise, you're as good as the other idiots that make up the chorus." Then he turns on Stephen who, to my complete horror and shock, sings Till I Hear You Sing. The Phantom looks appalled. "That's not opera."

"I've never been trained classically."

The Phantom considers this. "I will let the managers know you are coming. You'll be fine for now. Now, we must have you change."

He glares at us and leads us to a room. "Stay here till I return."

Stephen:

"Why do you think he's being so nice?" I question.

Nicolette snorts. "Because the Phantom being cold, condescending, and sarcastic is the definition of nice."

"He should have killed us," I reply, darkening. "I think you're forgetting who we're dealing with."

"Perhaps he's just made out to be worse than he is," she replies, her nose in the air. "He just needs to be shown love. Don't you think he deserves that?"

"He's murdered people," I mutter under my breath.

She rolls her eyes. "We need a story. Obviously, we'll have to tell the Phantom the truth, you've given too much of it away. For other people, however, we need to have a cover story."

"Well, I think we're going to have to be American."

"I'm pretty sure we're speaking French so I think we can get away with being French. Perhaps, we're from a small mountain town. We came to Paris looking for a chance to progress our talents?"

"Why did we come together?" I point out. "We have to deal with your propriety and such."

"You are my cousin?"

I shrug. "Sure. So we're cousins who came to Paris to progress our abilities and talents. We are singers so we found a job at Paris' most amazing opera house."

"Sounds good to me," she chirps. Then she yawns and leans against the bare wall. The room is completely empty. "I'm going to get some sleep. Wake me up when the grinch returns."

I roll my eyes at her. "Will do."

The "grinch" returns a little later with a dress for Nicolette and an outfit for me. I nudge Nicolette hard and she snaps awake. She smiles at the dresses and takes them thankfully. The Opera Ghost gives us each a place to change and then stalks away.

Once we're both situated in new clothes the Phantom wraps fabric around our eyes. "Now we ascend," he whispers.

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