Author's Note: Thank you so much to those who sent in reviews! This one's a rather short chapter but it's like that for a reason. I promise that the next chapter's way more exciting than this one.

I ought to mention that this fic's loaded with symbolism and foreshadowing, seeing as I'm a sucker for those things when it comes to stories. As in there's lots of it that I've written here. So if I were you, I'd do my best not to pass over the details so that it'll be much more satisfying when all the pieces fit together in the end!

Don't forget to leave a review! I'd love to hear what I should improve and what I should maintain in writing this story. Constructive criticism is more than welcome!

( three )

FIRST LIGHT

"Jovan! What was that racket last night?" Mateo called as he chased after the redhead who had begun climbing up the spiral staircase that led to the rooftop.

"I'm surprised ― I thought stories spread like the plague here," Jovan remarked, stealing a glance at the younger stagehand for a second before she continued her ascent.

"Not funny, Jo ― hey, slow down!" he answered as he nearly slipped on one of the steps. The girl was unbelievably fast on her feet, and Mateo was seriously considering abandoning his friend because of the way the muscles in his legs had began to protest. It had been his suggestion to visit the rooftop on the morning after the incident with Hector, and Jovan was quick to take up his offer, stating that she'd never thought of climbing up there ever since she arrived. She had bolted up the stairs before Mateo could even finish lacing his boots.

The door to the rooftop slammed open as the cold morning air greeted Jovan. Behind her, Mateo was huffing in exhaustion from the climb. But Jovan was too delighted with her new discovery that she paid no mind towards her friend. As if in a trance, she let her feet take her out the door and between the two statues that stood like guards to the entrance. A smile graced her features as she regarded her new surrounding with childlike wonder.

"This is amazing!"

The thrill from last night's events had finally worn off and it left Erik numb with exhaustion in his bones.

He couldn't even completely grasp what he was feeling right now. He didn't even compose any music the previous day and he had not laid a single finger on any of his instruments. He had spent the entirety of yesterday watching and shadowing various people from the opera house, which was an activity that wasn't tiring at all. So what was this weariness that was seeping under his skin?

Erik reached for his pocket watch from his waistcoat. The time read a quarter after five. He rose from his seat and grabbed his cloak.

A moment later, he found himself setting foot on the cobblestone steps of the rooftop.

The mornings were cold, but not as cold as the nights he spent alone in his lair. Erik gave a deep intake of breathe, letting the cool air infiltrate his lungs. Dawn had not broken yet and the sky was painted a deep navy blue. It was only a pity that the stars were no longer there to add to the unspeakable beauty of it all. One of the things that must've made Erik admire the night so much were the stars that helped define the night.

He never went much outside of the opera house, so the closest he could ever get to the world outside was watching the streets from the rooftop. At such an early hour however, only a handful of people were ambling their way on the sidewalks. Erik much preferred visiting the rooftop at night but to miss the crack of dawn was something he couldn't bear to do right now, for some reason. There was just something calming in watching the sun bleed its light as it began its ascent, spilling shades of orange and pink into the skies. The sight always managed to lull his soul ― it silenced the echoes and the villains in his head.

If the music of the night roused the passion in his mind and heart, the dawn was an delicate melody that soothed his aching soul.

The bang of a door pierced the silence. Erik closed his eyes in irritation. He rarely went up anymore so couldn't he simply have this one morning all to himself?

"This is amazing!" a distinct voice rang out after a brief moment and Erik quickly recognized it by its husky quality. For a girl of eighteen, Jovan Rousseau had an unusually deep voice that sounded much mature for a girl of her age. Whether she was aware of it or not, every time she spoke, her voice radiated a confidence and sensuality that was sure to catch the attention of everyone in the vicinity (including Erik, whether he admitted it not). Erik liked to think of this quality of hers as a recompense for her lack of any musical talents.

He watched as she walked closer to the ledge while Erik backed away from sight, shielding himself behind a looming statue that hid him from her sight. Jovan was wearing her usual button-up shirt, vest, and trousers. Her beret sat atop her head. Erik could only guess that she preferred wearing men's clothes for their practicality. After all, she couldn't exactly work in the rafters in a dress or skirt. He saw that she was not alone when he spotted one of the younger stagehands trailing behind her, seemingly out of breath.

"I didn't know you could climb stairs that fast," Mateo commented, leaning against the ledge for support.

A smile curved Jovan's lips as she leaned against the ledge as well. "I didn't know you could be so slow."

The two stagehands continued their banter. Erik didn't realize it until now but he found himself actually relieved that it was those two who had climbed up and not any of the rest of the opera staff. He'd been expecting a lovesick couple at first, the thought of which made him grimace, as it was not uncommon for couples to make their escapades to the rooftop. He would then have to leave to give them their own privacy but, fortunately, it was Jovan and Mateo who had come up. These two, he thought, he could at least tolerate. As far as he knew anyway, the two had nothing but a platonic relationship between them, because if the rumors were true, then Mateo was not at all interested in the opposite sex.

Now, if only they weren't so loud with their conversation...

"You stare at the sky as if you haven't seen it in years." Erik heard the boy switch topics.

"Well, I haven't. I've only seen it through windows ever since I arrived." Jovan replied as she were stating a fact.

"You've been here two months, Jo. Two months. Don't you ever leave the opera house?" Mateo's voice was filled with bewilderment.

"No. I... can't. Not exactly."

Erik had been trying so hard to drown out their voices in the background when their sudden change of subject caught him off guard. He realized that this was the first time that he was hearing or learning about this. He'd never paid close attention to Jovan that it slipped his observation that she hadn't left the opera house at all since her arrival.

"Not even on Sundays? Don't you go to church?"

Jovan gave a chuckle, a humorless one. "Oh, no. I'm not exactly religious, no." A quaint sigh slipped from her lips. "It's just that... I've been searching for God everywhere but I just can't find him. So no, I don't go to church."

Something surged through Erik as he heard the words escaping her mouth. A familiarity that hummed in his veins, warming him as he felt tension unlatch from his muscles. Was this... empathy? Again?

A minute of silence filled the air before Mateo gave a reply. "Look, Jo. I don't know what you went through before you came here but whatever it was, I'm sorry that it happened to you."

A scoff escaped the redhead. "Don't be, you didn't do anything wrong." Her tone was bitter. "You don't even know what happened to me, so..."

In the distance, the sun began to rose from its slumber, pouring out its warmth and light into the world previously shaded by night. Erik tore away his gaze from the two stagehands as his eyes gazed out into the skies ― a beginning and an end coalesced into a single moment that never failed to take his breath away. He watched as hues of pastel slowly seeped into the remaining darkness, washing away what was left of the night.

The bickering duo had fallen into a comfortable silence as well. Erik couldn't help but let his curiosity grow as he let his gaze wander to the red-haired stagehand. Whatever kind of tragedy could have befallen her that sentenced her to a life of hiding, much like him? If he had correctly read between the lines of what she said earlier, there was something that was keeping her from leaving the safety of the opera house. But what could it be?