Wow! Thanks everyone for the wonderful comments. I received more than expected. So, by popular demand, I give you chapter 2.

PotO characters © Grand Master: Leroux

It had taken Amelia a week to come to terms with the idea she was living in the phantom of the opera's underground house. Sure, she had listened to the musical, read the book, even written a few pointless fan fictions. But it was still a mind trip to discover you've been plopped in the midst of an insane genius in 1884, under an opera house.

Erik had kept to himself while Amelia had been there. He showed her a cold sort of courteousness, but came and went when he pleased, sometimes leaving her alone for days. To Amelia's surprise, he asked nothing about her. Not how she showed up naked on his doorstep, nor her curiosity as to why there was no electricity.

Amelia grew restless in the confined home. Besides, the cat had been making her go into fits of sneezing.

"Erik," she confronted him one evening, "I'm tired of being stuck here. I want to go somewhere."

He seemed annoyed with this request. "Entertain yourself then."

"I have been for the past week!" Amelia whined.

Erik gave a sigh, and remained silent.

Amelia paused for a moment, the spoke, "Teach me to sing."

He gave a short laugh, "What?"

"I want to learn how to sing."

He considered it for a moment. "Very well," he said, "Let's see where you're at then." He strode to the piano, took his seat, and looked at Amelia. "What would you like me to play?"

Amelia stood, feeling stupid. She'd listened to opera, but had no favorite aria or ballad. She knew songs form La Boheme, but had that even been written yet?

"I don't know any songs," she quietly admitted.

"Then we'll do scales."

Simple enough, Amelia thought. Erik played the first scale, and Amelia did her best to sound good, remembering the vibrato and to stay in pitch. After the first set of scales, Erik stopped. Amelia felt her face burning with embarrassment.

"Well?" she asked.

He gave a small shrug of his shoulders. "There is definitely better talent in the world," he said.

Amelia wasn't that surprised. She knew she wasn't a diva. "Well that's what practice is for. Now give me the scales again."

Erik looked at her for a moment, then gave a nod and began to play.

That girl sang like a crow. She cracked on high notes like a clarinet and I did my best not to stop playing and laugh. Yet, I admire her spirit, so our lessons will continue till she improves. Or until I go insane.

Late in the evening, Amelia had woken from a restless sleep. She was tangled in her sheets, and her pillow was on the floor. As she got up to situate her sleeping arrangements, a melody softly wafted through the crack in her door. It started out quiet, then grew strong and pulsating, drawing her closer to the door. The slow melancholy rhythm continued, becoming ever more beautiful, until…

That voice! Amelia had known Erik's voice was that of a nightingale, but she never expected anything like this! It put her into such a trance that she didn't notice opening the door and slowly walking behind Erik's hunched figure, nor did she realize she resting her hands on his shoulders, feeling him slightly sway to the music.

It took him a few seconds to realize as well. He stopped playing, and Amelia snapped awake, drawing back her hands to her sides.

"Sorry," she stammered.

He stood, said "Excuse me," with a little bow, and walked over to a small buffet to fetch himself a glass of wine.

Amelia looked at the scattered sheet music on the piano. Yes, as she suspected, it was his Don Juan. Instinctively, she picked it up and began to shuffle through it, seeing all the tiny notes scrawled in red ink.

"Drop that!" Erik yelled from across the room.

Amelia was so stunned; she literally did drop the manuscript, so papers when sailing everywhere across the floor.

Erik strode horrifically fast to Amelia, grabbing her by the wrist with his cold boney hand. Amelia flinched and the tightness of his hold.

"You stupid girl!" he roared, "Never touch my things!"

Amelia shrank, afraid of this sudden burst of rage.

Erik threw down her wrist, and bent to pick up the papers, crumpling them in his hand with anger.

Amelia backed up and sat on the corner of the plush sofa. Her wide glossy eyes never left him.

Good God in heaven, what have I done? I saw the poor thing from the corner of my eye, trembling and clutching her wrist in her small hand. I am ashamed of my sudden outbursts, for it seems this act has lessened my trust with this strange angel.

After I had collected myself, I helped her off the sofa, her eyes still large with fear, and into her bedroom.

Will she ever speak to me again? Will she even be here in the morning? Perhaps my troubled mind misleads me, but I swear I can hear her sobbing in her room right this very moment. Oh, what have I done? I am afraid, for some unknown reason to me, that I will lose her.

…Her hands felt so warm upon my shoulders…

AN: Remember to comment! Chapter 3 to come soon…