Songs used in this chapter: Magical Lasso, Notes

"Gah!"

"Aiiii!"

The ballet girls shrieked in a strange mixture of both horror and delight as the man standing in the center of them, Denny Brosh, a man who had messy blond hair and was only slightly taller than the girls, hopped forward comically and snarled. He wore a black cloak and held a rope serving as the Punjab lasso. The blond jumped forward, yelling and scaring the girls while showing off.

"Like yellow parchment is his skin..." Denny weaved the story of when he had first seen the Phantom. No one knew if he was lying or not, but they always enjoyed listening, anyway. "A great black hole served as the nose that never grew!"

Denny demonstrated how to defend yourself from being strangled by the Punjab lasso, the Phantom's choice of weapon for his murders. He wrapped it around his head and held it from choking him by inserting his arm inside the loop, as well, before he pulled the rope taut. He told them that every time: keep your hand at the level of your eye. The ballet girls applauded the demonstration and giggled amongst themselves behind their turned hands.

"You must always be on your guard," Denny walked around the circle, explaining to the girls with a feral grin. His tone was ominous whilst telling them and the girls listened intently. "Or he will catch you with his magical lasso!"

A short girl with raven hair closest to him shrieked with surprise and laughter when he lashed out with the rope around her neck. He didn't pull it taut, for fear of hurting her, and pulled her closer. The girls giggled and the girl Danny had captured blushed when he grabbed her by her thigh. Their laughter was cut short when they heard the noise.

They all gasped when the trap door in the center of the stage had opened. The low light of the candles cast a shadow on the masked figure with raven hair and pale skin that emerged from the door in the floor. The girls all shrieked in real terror and scurried away from the small stage. The girl with the rope around her neck, Maria, hastily pulled it off and ran.

The Phantom held the trap door open and he ignored it in favor of glaring at the man in front of him. Denny had guessed that he had heard him. He couldn't move out of fear of what would happen. He could hear the ballet girls in the next room, gossiping and coming to check on what was happening by peeking around the half open doors. The Phantom helped a blond out of the trap door and Denny realized that it was the new prima donna, Edward Elric.

Denny was thinking about saying something, but, with a sweep of his black cape, the Phantom led the small blond out of the room. But before they were gone, Madame Rockbell appeared. The old lady watched the two leave, unsurprised. She seemed to have seen and heard enough. She turned on Denny.

"Those who speak of what they know find, too late, that prudent silence is wise." She seemed angry and Denny didn't say anything. The old lady could be scary, sometimes. "Denny Bosh, hold your tongue..."

The girls next door gasped when they saw Madame Rockbell slap Denny across the face. She snatched the rope from his hands and, to his surprise, looped it around his neck and pulled it taut.

"Keep your hand at the level of your eyes."

Monsieur Falman strolled down the street to his opera house, looking quite amused and horribly annoyed at the same time. He held a note in his hand and his cane in the other. Monsieur Falman reached the doors and he handed the man at the doors his hat, coat, and cane.

"'Mystery After Gala Night'. It says, 'Mystery Of Soprano's Flight'. 'Mystified' all the papers say, 'We Are Mystified, We Suspect Foul Play'." Falman was irritated just remembering the damned newspapers.

"What a way to run a business. Spare these unending trials," The opera house owner rolled his eyes. "Half your cast disappears, but the crown still cheers! Opera! To Hell with Gluck and Handel, have a scandal and you're sure to have a hit!"

He was walking up the grand staircase when he heard the shout.

"Damnable! Will they all walk out?" Monsieur Breda cursed, heading straight for his partner. "This is damnable!"

"Breda, please don't shout!" Monsieur Falman hissed. "it's publicity, and the take is vast! Free publicity!"

"But we have no cast!"

"Andre, have you seen the queue?" Monsieur Falman asked his partner. Monsieur Breda looked down with an, "Oh."

"I see you've got one, too..." When Monsieur Breda looked confused, he pointed to the note in his hands and then to his Breda nodded, pulled it open, and read.

"Dear Breda, what a charming Gala. Christine was, in a word, 'sublime'." He looked up from his reading with a look of approval. "We were hardly berefit when La Winry left. On that note, the Diva's a disaster, must you cast her when she sees she's past her prime?"

"Dear Falman, just a brief reminder," Monsieur Falman read, pulling his note open, as well. "My salary has not been paid! Sent in care of the ghost, by return of post. PTO"(1) He flipped the note over to read the back, as instructed. "No one likes a debtor, so it's better if my orders are obeyed!"

They exchanged looks of disbelief before continuing their walk in the opera house.

"Who would have the gall to send this? Someone with a purieor brain." They both announced.

"These are both signed O.G.," Monsieur Falman pointed out, read both of the notes to himself.

"Who the Hell is he?" Breda asked, confused.

"Opera Ghost!" They sang.

"It's nothing short of 'shocking'..." Monsieur Falman shrugged.

"He is mocking our position!"

"In addition, he wants money..."

"What a funny apparition-"

"To extend a large retainer, nothing plainer: he is clearly quite insane." They sang in unison.

"Where is he?" A new voice called from farther down the grand staircase. They turned to see their blond patron almost at the foot of the stairs.

"You mean La Winry?" Monsieur Falman asked, not sure as to who he was talking about.

"I mean Mr. Elric," Jean corrected, exasperated, and walked closer to the steps. "Where is he?"

"Well, how should we know?"

"I want an answer," Jean snapped and he walked up the steps to them. "I take it that you sent me this note?"

"What's all this nonsense?" Monsieur Falman asked as Monsieur Breda cried, "Of course not!"

"Don't look at us!" Monsieur Falman stated, making the sign for a negative with his arms.

"He's not with you, then?" The Viscount stopped, confused.

"Of course not!" Monsieur Falman cried.

"We're in the dark-"

"Monsieur, don't argue. Isn't this the letter you wrote?" They noticed then that Jean had a note in his hand. He handed Monsieur Breda the note.

"And what is it that we're meant to have wrote?" Monsieur Falman asked and corrected himself. "Er, 'written'."

"Do not fear for Mr. Elric, the Angel of Music has him under his wing," Monsieur Breda read from the note. "Make no attempt to see him again."

"If you didn't write it, then who did?" Jean asked. But, before either of the managers could answer their patron, another voice was added to the mix.

"Where is he?" Winry entered the humungous room flocked on both sides with people to tend to her.

"Oh, welcome back..." Monsieur Falman greeted halfheartedly.

"Your precious patron; where is he?"

"What is it, now?" Jean asked, really wishing he could light a cigarette around now.

"I have your letter! A letter which I rather resent." Winry huffed, clearly hurt. Jean took the letter from the angry prima donna.

"And did you send it?" Monsieur Falman asked his patron.

"Of course not!"

"As if he would..." Monsieur Breda rolled his eyes.

"You didn't send it?"

"Of course not!"

"What's going on?" Monsieur Falman was confused.

"You dare to tell me that this is no the letter you sent?" La Winry waved the offensive letter in Jean's face.

"And what is it that I'm meant to have sent?" He opened the letter and read it aloud. "Your days at the Opera Amestris are numbered. Edward Elric will be singing on your behalf tonight-"

"Edward! Elric!" Winry angrily spat Edward's name as if that were the whole reason that this was ridiculous.

"-Prepare for great misfortune should you attempt to take his place."

Monsieur Falman and Monsieur Breda exchanged odd glances before turning to walk away.

"Far too many notes for my taste," they agreed. "and most of them about Edward. All we've heard since we came is Mr. Elric's name-"

"Mr. Elric has returned." All heads turned to see Madame Rockbell and Alphonse right behind her. They stood at the foot of the stairs, patiently waiting for a response.

"No worse for wear, as far as we're concerned?" Monsieur Falman asked.

"And where precisely is he now?" Monsieur Breda asked, not knowing why he wouldn't be there with them.

"I thought it best he was alone," was Madame Rockbell's reply. "He needed rest," Alphonse added.

"May I see him?"

"No, Monsieur, he will see no one," she answered Jean, shaking her head. But Winry was concerned for other problems.

"Will he sing? Will he sing?"

"Here," Madame Rockbell lifted a letter from the pockets of her dress. "I have a note."

(1) In case you didn't know (cuz I didn't either lol) PTO stands for "Please Turn Over"