Two days of laborious cleaning and dusting, Box 5 included, and I was called upon by the managers. To say I was curious was an understatement, I didn't think I had done anything wrong.

To be fair, it could have been a meeting to tell me to stop finding innovative ways to trip up Carlotta, but I thought the managers found her just as annoying as I did.

Even Erik had complemented me on the nails hammered into the floor so her heels would snap. The woman went through three pairs of heels before she caught on that something was fishy.

I hadn't had much chance to speak with Erik and was nervously awaiting the conversation of my burn, hoping he had forgotten. In fact, I hadn't really spoken to anyone for two days, just wrong place at the wrong time.

I briefly wondered if Carlotta herself had complained about our broom debacles, I wouldn't have put it past her.

As I walked through Christine's corridor, I passed Meg. Perfect. I didn't actually know the way to the manager's office so it was perfect that I ran into her.

She smiled at me as she walked by and I reached to put a hand on her shoulder to stop her, "Hey Meg, which way is the manager's office?" I asked with trepidation lacing my words. I did not want to lose my job.

Meg gave me an inquiring frown, "What did you do?" Her face took on a hungry look, she wanted gossip.

"Firstly, thanks a lot for assuming I did something," I said sarcastically, " and secondly, I haven't got a blummin' clue."

She shrugged her shoulder and looped her arm through mine. I looked down at our interlocked arms and smiled, I loved being around people who wanted friendly physical contact, I wasn't considered scum of some kind. It genuinely made me smile.

Meg carried on chirping away through my little epiphany, "I don't see what you could have done, personally I think you haven't been here long enough to cause any trouble. You didn't upset Carlotta did you? To be fair, if the managers aren't there at the time, she doesn't complain. For someone who has to learn a lot of lines, she really does have a poor memory."

I hummed in acknowledgment as we plodded up some stairs, "They cannot fire you, I won't let them. If they want to, you come to me. I will sign a petition, start a riot, jump in front of a carriage!" I suddenly looked at her in alarm, "Maybe not that last one, but I would definitely get my mother involved. She has a huge sway in running this place- He listens to her. Though, I don't really know why."

We stopped in front of a large oak door, which finally ceased meg's chatter, "Here we are!" She said.

I nervously stepped forward, it wasn't so much the managers themselves that scared me, it was all the power they wielded. All the power they could abuse.

"Do you want me to wait for you?" Meg asked, she placed a reassuring hand on my arm.

"No, come back in a quarter of an hour. I wouldn't want to detain you from your priorities." I smiled at her to assure her I was fine.

I heard her walk down the stairs so I took a breath and knocked on the door.

A minute later they called me in.

The room was a mess. There was paper everywhere and an ingrained musky smell of alcohol. I don't even think it was organised mess. The managers did not know how to run a business effectively, not a theatre at any rate. However, I shoved all these impressions to the back of my mind for the sake of my sanity. Have to say it was probably a little late for my sanity though.

"Ah Mademoiselle… erm. I'm sorry dear, I do not actually know your last name." Firmin apologised with a sheepish smile.

"Daaé." No point in hiding it anymore I guessed.

"Daaé?! As in Christine Daaé, Daaé?" André shouted at me with shock not very well concealed.

"Shh" Firmin nudged him in the arm, "Daaé could be a very common surname."

I had to hide a laugh, "Well I'm not Christine, but I am her sister."

Firmin leaned over to André conspiratorially, "Suppose that's where He believes the talent comes from." He nodded in response with mutters of agreement.

"I'm sorry," I butted in, "Who?"

This jolted them out of their separate talk and initial surprise, "You see Mademoiselle Daaé, we got an unusual letter from 'P. of the Opera' insisting that we put you in the orchestra pit or he would double his salary and cause much more trouble for us." Firmin explained, he seemed a little exhausted as he spoke, rubbing his eyes in the process.

"I see, but I do not want to be a part of your orchestra so I must decline. If you tell him this, I am sure he will not go through with his demands." I said matter of factly. He surely wouldn't punish the managers for something I didn't want to do.

The managers tensed up and started to sweat a little, "That may be, but even if this is a practical joke, we cannot risk somebody sabotaging us- in other words, we need you to play in the orchestra pit."

I sighed, the managers were so pathetic, and they still did not believe in Erik as the Phantom. These managers didn't even know what I played yet, they hadn't asked. Although, Erik may have told them. I at least wanted support from managers who were emotionally invested in my musical welfare.

"Do you even know what I play?"

They looked taken aback. André coughed awkwardly, "Maybe you could… fill us in?" He seemed so pleading.

I found this the perfect opportunity to mess with their heads, "Oh well, you know, the bagpipes. They truly are fantastic."

I saw Firmin almost throw up and both of their eyes bulge out of their sockets. I wished I could have gotten a drawing of their faces.

"But we cannot accommodate bagpipes. Someone is ruining us!" spluttered André.

"No! I'm sorry, I was being humorous, it's not serious. I try to play the flute." I rushed so Firmin wouldn't actually be sick; I didn't want that on my dress.

They visibly calmed at my words, but there was a hint of wariness in André's eyes. 'Not impressed, not impressed' my brain repeated over and over. "You can start tomorrow as a trial session with the orchestra, of course you know it is Il Muto. I am pleased to have this settled with plenty of time before the show."

I didn't know if he was joking or not, the first show was in a month, I wasn't that good that music immediately clicked in my head after one run through. It was easier if someone played it for me and then I copied their run through.

Firmin then spoke up, "One last thing, the note said that if you disagree to tell you 'tough luck'" I rolled my eyes, of course Erik would have said that. He was so stubborn, like a mule.

"Have a good day Mademoiselle." They called as I exited their office.

Outside Meg was waiting with Christine in anticipation. "Well?" Was all she said to prompt me. I gave her an incredulous look, she was too eager.

"I have been ordered to play in the orchestra pit by the Opera Ghost." At this Meg gasped in fright, but Christine frowned in confusion. "But we'll see about that." I added.

I looked at Christine, remembering my deal with Erik as I spoke, "I guess the Opera Ghost is really doing me a favour; I would have never asked to be in it. It's a big opportunity, I should probably thank him." 'There' I thought, 'that ought to put Erik in a good light'. Lies, of course.

They both gave me small smiles and requested to hear me play. I acquiesced to their pleas and led them to a practice room, apparently they still had half an hour of their dinner break. I made sure I did not take them to practice room 5, Meg being superstitious and all.

I collected my case and the stand, which I claimed as my own and took them to the practice room. As I opened my case to take out some music, I noticed a stained yellow piece of paper with a music score written on it in red ink, childish handwriting. It was not mine. Erik! He was getting on my nerves, big time.

I placed Erik's music on the stand and readied my position, making sure my back was straight, the body of the flute was held up and the mouthpiece was turned out. I was sure my positioning would be rubbish by the end, but it was better to start correct at least.

The music was divine. It was in minor key so the piece had an air of mystery to it. I felt as though I was transported to an Arthur Conan Doyle mystery, crime solving alongside Sherlock Holmes, the great detective. I had browsed one of my master's books once and come across it.

The score picked up in pace, obviously the chase scene, we were capturing the criminal now, Holmes and I, Watson not far behind I assumed. I flourished the chromatic scale with only a little blip towards the end, determining the dismal fail of the criminal. Though, the triumphant change to major key inspired the feelings of celebration.

I was happy to only make one huge mistake, where my fingers couldn't keep up with my brain and muddled up, so I went back and repeated the section. Usually good musicians carry on and hope the audience didn't notice, but my blunder was a large blunder, there was no mistaking it was an error and not in the music.

Have to say though, I loved how Erik managed to keep it not too fast and jumpy because if it was then this girl wouldn't have been able to play it. Understatement of the century.

Meg and Christine clapped with enthusiasm.

"That was amazing!" Meg cheered, "Where did you get that music?"

'Oh shoot, oh fuzzy breadsticks with goblin snot and a cherry on top' was the first thing that resounded in my head and I made a face at myself. I couldn't very well tell them that the Opera Ghost left me a little present.

The annoying thing was that they both knew I could never afford to buy music, not with the salaries I ever earned. That only left one option…

"I wrote them." I said lightly, dubiously checking to see if they would swallow the lie.

Meg stood gawping at me, making me feel terrible. I was definitely reporting my lie to Erik so I wouldn't feel so bad.

Christine filled in Meg's silence, "You should write more music. We could perform it at this opera house, everyone would hear your amazing talent."

'Oh shoot, oh mouldy mushrooms mangled on a miserable mound and moulded on the Eiffel Tower.' Things were getting serious.

"Ladies I… don't… like composing. It's so… boring and… hard and… um… just no." I forced out and trailed off. Smooth, real smooth.

It wasn't the lying that got me, although in this case it was as well because I bet Erik put his soul into it and I was just lamely claiming it. It's really the thinking on one's feet, spouting words before sentences are formed.

I'm generally an adequate liar, if there is such a thing. Just not at this point.

Both of the girls were eyeing me suspiciously and I felt like I was looking at Watson and Holmes as the criminal. Not great.

"Mhmm," Meg hummed, "well, nonetheless we congratulate you on your orchestra pit place and bid you adieu."

Christine glanced confused at Meg. "Rehearsals?" Meg prompted and the light dawned in Christine's eyes.

Christine gave me a quick hug before she and Meg ran off to an Il Muto rehearsal for choreography or something like that.

As I was putting away all my practise materials, there was only one thing on my mind…

'To meet a phantom' and where else than practise room five?