A/N: I apologize for the misspelling of Erik's name! (I shall spend hours in penance.) And for the fact that the first chapter is boring and resembles the movie too much. I promise to try harder.

Again, thank you to those who pointed out my mistake.

He sat at his organ, listening patiently. They were terrible. The singing was off key, the orchestra needed fine-tuning, as for the dancers, he could just imagine their missteps. Erik cringed at the particularly bad note sang by Carlotta. No, this will not do, he will have to get rid of her before the widows of the Opera House shattered, before she ruined his opera any further. With that final thought in mind, he swept off into darkness, his black cape billowing behind him.

Christine and Meg watched Carlotta and Piangi sing their parts from the new production of Hannibal and giggled.

"Can you imagine anyone liking Carlotta's voice?" Meg whispered through her giggles.

"I fear Piangi does."

Meg laughed and got an irritated glare from Madame Giry, Meg's mother and a ballet trainer. Her face was slightly flushed from frustration at trying to get the dancers do a very difficult step pattern. Meg hushed up a bit.

"I can just see the Opera Ghost sweeping down in his ghostly ways and carrying Carlotta away to singer's hell." She jumped slightly, delighted at her insight. Christine did not reply. Meg looked slightly disappointed.

"Don't you believe in the Ghost?" Christine remained silent. Meg looked at her friend, annoyed at the silence, and saw her looking rather absentmindedly at the seats of the auditorium.

"The Angel…" she whispered.

"What? Oh, never mind that. By the way, have you heard the news?" That got Christine's attention.

"Huh? What? What news?"

"Silly. About the new managers."

"No, I have not heard."

"We're getting new managers! Isn't that exiting?" And to show her own, she jumped up, clapping her hands. Her mother was upon her like a hawk.

"Meg Giry, will you pay attention! This is the fifth time I had to tell you and Christine that it is time to get back to practice."

Meg and Christine reddened slightly and got back in their assigned posts.

Meg spoke of a Ghost…who is he? What did she mean?

"Christine, please-" she heard Madam Giry's scolding voice. She stumbled and would have fallen if the girl next to her had not caught her. She apologised and got back into step with everyone else. It was at that moment she saw two men coming in, both unrecognizable, but both strode in with purpose. She glanced at Meg who was also watching the newcomers.

Sensing the disturbance, monsieur Reyer stoped the practice when the managers entered. Yes, he had heard of them, and suspected that this would happen at one point or another. But for it to happen now was really irritating. They were just beginning to improve, too. Well, not really, but still. He turned to face them as they entered and introduced each other. Exchanges were made and before he knew it, he was asked to play act three for Carlotta, a very important part of the Opera and one that he wished anyone would sing but Carlotta. But the managers command and so he will obey.

Think of me,

Think of me fondly

When we've said good bye.

Erik paused a moment. What was this? New managers? He knew about this for some time, but did not expect the exchange to happen so soon. He reached into his pocket for a letter that was meant to be given to them when they came and smiled. So, Lefevre wished to resign early? He put the letter back into his pocket and proceeded to his destination, only to stop again when he heard Carlotta's screeching voice. He paused for a moment more and then decided that yes, he will have to get rid of her. If not for good, then at least for a while. He had other plans, plans for another Prima Dona. His angel. He made his way over to the flies and in a few more steps was standing directly over the stage.

He untied a few ropes and waited until he could stand the singing no longer and then let go. There was a scream, much scrambling and shouting and then he had much pleasure watching Carlotta grab Piangi's hand and practically run off the stage, shouting protests half inSpanish half in English. He watched a moment more, then, taking out the letter once more, he let it float gently onto the stage. Over all, he was rather pleased with the welcome he had given them.