Erik was annoyed. Not because those two idiot managers had, once again, ignored his requests, nor because Carlotta was to be playing the lead in his opera. No, he was annoyed because that stupid siren wasn't answering him.

"Laetitia! Get over here right now!"

She popped up. "Won't!" Then popped right back down.

"Laetitia, I'm warning you!"

Up. "Don't care!" Back down.

The man gritted his teeth together. "I just want to talk to you!"

"About what?"

This time she didn't go back down. Erik relaxed very slightly. "About Amme."

"No!" Down once more.

He growled. "I just need to know one damn thing!"

Her tail waved in the air and splashed the water.

Erik shook his dripping hair out of his eyes. "I just need to know what she is!"

That caught Laetitia's attention. Slowly, she rose to the surface. "I thought she was human."

"I thought so too, at first, but she most definitely is not!"

"So? What do you want from me?"

"What are some different species that look human, but aren't?"

Laetitia shrugged. "Vampires?"

Erik snorted. "I highly doubt she's a vampire."

"Pixies? Elves? Fairies?"

"I highly doubt those ones, too. After all, aren't pixies and elves supposed to be very short? And fairies have wings. Amme is not short, nor does she have wings."

"If you know so much, then decide what she is by yourself. Or, better yet, why don't you ask her? Then you'll know for certain." Laetitia dived back underwater without waiting for an answer.

Amme was, once again, an understudy. Carlotta made sure of that. And she wasn't even the prima donna's understudy anymore; she was Meg's. Why Meg needed an understudy was a mystery to Amme. But she didn't complain. She preferred being with the ballet girl than Carlotta.

"You don't have to worry about anything tonight, Amme." Meg informed her. "Just sit back and enjoy the opera as an audience member. I wish you were still the lead, though. You're better than Carlotta."

"Don't tell her you said that," Amme smiled.

"It doesn't matter. She would never believe someone would say something like that."

Amme shrugged. "True."

Meg glanced back onstage. "I'm on now. See you later!" She hurried off.

"Um, Ms. Eledhwen?"

Amme turned. A nervous little ballet girl was standing there, holding something.

"Yes?" Amme asked.

"I was told to give you this." She offered the 'something', which turned out to be a red rose.

"Thank you, but there must be some mistake. I'm not performing tonight." Amme tried to give the rose back.

"Are you Amme Eledhwen?"

"Yes, but…"

"The man said specifically to give the rose and the note to Amme Eledhwen."

"Note?" Amme looked down. There was, indeed, a note attached to the ribbon tied around the stem. She took it off and read it. It was written in an unfamiliar hand, and there were only two words:

Just wait.

Amme tilted her head back and forth. Just wait? Just wait for what? Was it suppose to be encouraging or a threat?

Just then, there was a scream. Then more screams, until the screams turned into a deafening roar.

Amme's head jerked up. Over a thousand rats were pouring onto the stage and into the audience. The majority of them seemed to be congregating around Carlotta, trying to bite her fingers off.

Strangely, not one went near her.

A usually large rat finally managed to jump up and bite Carlotta's fingers. She shrieked even louder and tried to shake him off, but he wouldn't let go. Crying, she ran off the stage.

In the midst of the chaos, Amme heard a voice above the rest. Though he was singing softly, he drowned out the other voices.

In Amme's mind, at least.

Come to me.

Amme stood. If she could think, she'd be wondering where this was leading.

Come to me.

She walked, uncertain of where she was going.

Come to me. Come quickly.

Her pace obediently sped up. She passed the actors and the ballerinas. She passed screaming members of the audience without seeing or hearing them.

Come to me.

The voice was sounding more eager. In her heart, Amme knew who it was, but her mind focused on obeying him rather than discovering him.

When Amme came back to her senses, the first thing she realized was she had no idea where she was. There was a large lake in front of her, but she appeared to be underground.

She turned and saw five different passageways. Without knowing which one led back, it could take days to return to the world above.

The idea of swimming across the lake meant getting wet, therefore, it was out before Amme even fully considered it.

"Now what am I going to do?" She muttered.

A splashing noise caught her attention. She glanced up to see someone who looked suspiciously like the Phantom of the Opera rowing a boat towards her. Upon closer observation, she saw it was the Phantom of the Opera.

"You bastard!" She exploded. "Where the hell am I?"

He slowed his rowing. "A remark like that isn't going to induce me answer you, I'm afraid, Amme."

"Too bad."

He chuckled. "Would you like to come in?"

Amme glared at him. "Are you joking?"

"Do I look like it? Do you know the way back by yourself?"

Maintaining what little dignity she had left, Amme climbed into the boat, refusing his helping hand.

"Stubborn, aren't we?" He whispered, starting his rowing up again.

Amme ignored him.

"I just wanted you down here, where I could talk to you without any interruptions." He continued.

"That's no excuse," she informed him. "And I was all set to apologize for our last meeting! If you think I'm still going to, think again."

The boat bumped against a small dock. "Here we are," the Phantom said, getting off. He held out his hand for Amme again, and, again, she ignored it.

"I don't need help to get off a boat. I'm not that pathetic, you know."

"I apologize," he replied, quickly withdrawing his hand.

Amme stood on the dock, looking around. "Where is this?" She meant to sound disgusted, but instead she was fascinated. Also rather scared. There were at least twenty drawings of her attached to the wall.

"This is where I live."

Disbelief now colored her tone. "You live here?"

"That I do." He glanced at her sideways. "Surprised?"

Amme swallowed. "Well, yes, actually. I had never thought about where you lived before."

"Now you know." He moved closer, one hand coming out to stroke her hair. Surprise had diminished all Amme's anger, so she didn't try shaking it away. The Phantom took advantage of this. He placed his other arm around her shoulder, and brought her nearer to him.

Pushing her black hair back, he whispered, "Did you know your ears are pointed?"

Amme shot him a look. The look told him he was crazy. "Of course I do."

"You aren't human."

"I've never pretended to be."

Erik was surprised by this quick confirmation. "What are you, then?"

"Why are you so curious?"

"Because I don't know many non-humans."

Amme rolled her eyes. "You seem to have a bunch of rats here. Aren't they non-humans?"

"First of all, I don't know the rats by names, and secondly, I'm talking about non-humans who have a human-like appearance."

"In that case, you should have been more specific." She shifted away from him. "I'm an elf."

"Really?" Erik said, knowing fully Laetitia would gloat about him being wrong for months.

"Yes," She looked around. "This is an interesting place."

"I suppose so," Erik shrugged, not meaning it. He hated the place.

She took one step, and then hesitated. "Is it alright if I look around?"

"Go ahead."

She went over to the desk. "You write a lot of music!" She sounded very impressed.

Impressed was good. "There's really not much else to do here."

She turned slightly. "Is this a piano?" She asked doubtfully.

Erik shook his head. "No, it's an organ. Haven't you heard of them before?"

"No."

He masked his surprise by asking, "Do you play the piano?"

"A tiny bit. Emily was better."

"Emily?"

She flushed. "My sister."

Erik eyed her carefully. "She was better?"

"She's dead," Amme said shortly.

"I'm sorry." He frowned. "When did this happen?"

Amme looked like she wanted to change the subject. "Three months ago."

No wonder she always wore black. "Is this why you came here?"

The elf stiffened. Then she crumbled onto the floor, sobbing.

"Amme!" He ran over to her and put both arms around her. Holding her close, he whispered, "Amme, what is it?"

She didn't answer, just wept harder into his shirt.

Despite his dislike of anything that made her cry, Erik was forced to admit how much he liked her clinging to him. He started to stroke her hair again. "Shh." He murmured. "Shh, Amme, everything's fine. Shh."

She sat up. "I'm sorry, it's just… Emily!"

"What happened, Amme?"

"Do you really want to know?" She asked uncertainly.

"Of course."

Amme took a deep, shuddering breath. "Alright. I'll tell you."

Next chapter is pretty much why Amme had to come to France. Had to, mind you, had to.

Well, technically, she didn't have to go to France, but, hey…whacha gonna do about it?

Oh, and one more thing. I am well aware I make spelling mistakes in this. Please don't feel the need to correct every single one. Please don't! Really, it will only succeed in annoying me.