Update... again! I am amazed at myself. Maybe you are, too. No, really. Okay, enough about me and updating. Dry subject.

NOTICE! I found a major flaw in my first chapter: my times are way off! If you have stuck with me this far, pretend that at the very beginning of my first chapter where itsays "April," make that November! Sorry!

I got four reviews! That's better than one! Review praises:

way2beme: Thanks for reviewing again! And "Vicomte" is "Viscount" in French. That's what they call him in most of the movie, besides Raoul. And I'll try to update again soon. That's what summer's for!

Ami M. Mercury: Hi And thanks for reviewing! I know that this really isn't your genre for reading. And I don't think her handwriting is as bad as yours. More like a sloppy and in-a-hurry version of mine.

Nota Lone: Thank you for reviewing... twice! Yeah, I think Joseph is stupid, too. Um, I don't really know if there will be any major changes. The whole thing will be slightly different, just because of the perspective. But right off the bat, not a clue.

I think my computer is now being smart, so there shouldn't be so many mistakes. The only problem is that I can't type. Be on the look for typos.

I got the PotO soundtrack. Excited am I. I've listened to it four times in two days. Must get the extended. Mine only has some of the songs.

Chapter Three. Here you go. I warn you: this will be long, just because there is a lengthy song before anything really happens. Brace yourself. And if you skip over the song, I do not mind. I wish I could.


New opera now. Already! Only yesterday did we put on Hannibal. 'Tis called Il Muto, and is about... actually, I don't really have a clue. It's much different than the one put on last night. That's all I know. That's all I need to know.

Time to open up. A queue is already forming around the Opera House. Mostly waiting for Christine. I would. Oh, well.

I rushed out to the entry way to see Monsieur Firmin bursting in. He had a note in his hand. Then began singing.

Mystery after gala night

It says "Mystery of soprano's flight

"Mystified" all the papers say

"We are mystified; we suspect foul play"

Bad news on soprano scene

First Carlotta now Christine

Still, at least the seats get sold.

Gossip's worth it's weight in gold.

Here, he paused. Like he was waiting for an applause. But the only people around were servants scrubbing the floor, and me. I wouldn't applaud. Not a good singer, like me. But at least I know it. His song was funny, though.

What a way to run a business.

Spare me these unending trials.

Half your cast disappears

But the crowd still cheers.

Opera.

To hell with Gluck and Handel.

Have a scandal and you're sure to have a hit.

At this point, Monsieur Andre burst in, looking quite red. He, too, began singing.

Damnable. Will they all walk out?

This is damnable.

Monsieur Firmin began again. It sounded like it was gonna go on for a while. I took a seat on one of the steps.

Andre, please don't shout.

It's publicity, and the take is vast!

Free publicity—

Monsieur Andre shouted more than sang: "But we have no cast!"

Monsieur Firmin again.

Andre, have you seen the queue?

He eyed something in Monsieur Andre's hands. Looked like an envelope to me.

Ah, it seems you got one, too.

Monsieur Andre opened the envelope and began reading in song.

"Dear Andre, what a charming gala.

Christine was, in a word, sublime.

We were hardly bereft when Carlotta left.

On that note, the diva's a disaster.

Must you cast her when she's season's past her prime?"

Monsieur Firmin whipped an envelope out from his waistcoat and began reading in the same tune as Monsieur Andre had.

"Dear Firmin just a brief reminder.

My salary has not been paid.

Send it care of the Ghost

By return of post.

P.T.O.

No one likes a debtor

so it's better if my orders are obeyed."

Now, a duet. Yes, really.

Who would have the gall to send this?

Someone with a puerile brain.

These are both signed O. G.

Who the hell is he?

My eyes grew wide. So I wasn't the only one to receive a letter from the Phantom. "Who is he?" This statement from Monsieur Andre surprised me. Were they really that dense? Oy, who was I working for? Suddenly, they shouted together: "Opera Ghost!"

This is nothing short of shocking!

He is mocking our position.

In addition he wants money.

What a funny apparition

To expect a large retainer,

Nothing plainer, he is clearly quite insane.

Suddenly, the Vicomte burst into the opera house. Also singing.

Where is she?

Monsieur Firmin:

You mean Carlotta?

Again with the Vicomte.

I mean Miss Daae,

Where is she?

Monsieur Firmin—man, is this getting annoying!

Well, how should we know?

Vicomte, "I want an answer

I take it that you sent me this note."

Firmin, "What's all this nonsense?"

Andre, "Of course not."

Vicomte, "She's not with you, then?"

Firmin, "Of course not."

Andre, "We're in the dark."

Vicomte, "Monsieur, don't argue. Isn't this the letter you wrote?"

Finally, Monsieur Firmin finished it up. "And what is it that we're meant to have wrote? Written." I am glad that he corrected himself.

The Vicomte handed Monsieur Andre an envelope, just like the two I had seen this morning and the one under my pillow. Monsieur Andre read it aloud. Not in song, either. Good.

"'Do not fear for Miss Daae. The Angel of Music has her under his wing. Make no attempt to see her again,'" he read.

I was in shock. I hurried up the stairs and ran to my room (okay, okay, my bed). No one was inside. I leapt onto my bed and stuck my hand under my pillow. The letter was gone! I felt like crying.

My eyes wandered till I came to my senses and saw what they had rested on. An envelope! With the wax seal. It was unopened. I grabbed at it and pulled my knees to my chest. I was giddy. Like at Christmas.

"Dear Elise,

So it seems that I am not the only one having trouble with this Joseph. Do not fear; something will be done about it. You may stay at your post, seeing as how much help is needed. I believe I have made something of an acquaintance of you, new stagehand.

I remain, your obedient servant,

O. G."

A smile cracked onto my face. I'm a friend... with the Phantom! Immediately, I hunted down some more paper and the pen. I found some of both in a small drawer by Marie's bed. I instantly began scribbling out a note.

"Dear O. G.,

Thank you for understanding. And enough with the "obedient servant" act. You are too busy. One more request: lave the wax seals behind if you are going to continue taking your letters back. Thank you.

A New Acquaintance,

Elise"

My heart swelled. Again, I folded the paper and put it in it's hiding place. At least he had no trouble finding it.

I ran to the stage. Amos was at his post, checking ropes. Joseph was not up there. At least, I couldn't see him. I climbed the stairs and let Amos show me all over again what ropes did what. New opera, new ropes. He was so nice. Joseph wasn't there also, it turned out, so it was even nicer.

A bell sounded. About six hours till the show. And a break for us. Amos stayed at his post, practicing. So dedicated.

I ran to the entryway. People were pounding at the doors. I opened one and the people thrust roses into my face. "Miss Daae?" they kept repeating. I collected a few roses and promised to deliver them. It gave me a chance to meet Christine.

I was making my way up the central staircase when my foot caught on something on the floor. I looked down I was standing on a giant compass. On the perimeter, the words "Opera Populaire" circled it. I was standing dead middle, and my foot had caught on a lowered piece of it.

I stomped on it, then fell. Through the floor. A trap door! I landed in a circular room completely of mirrors. I whimpered. So I sat on the floor and stared at myself. To keep my sanity. That was too hard. I pounded on one of the walls, hoping someone would hear me. I wondered how far I had dropped. The ceiling didn't look too high up. I was just glad that the ceiling wasn't mirrors also.

I sat cross legged and stared at the roses in my hands. How long was I gonna be down here? Would they realize I was gone at all? Mme. Giry had said that plenty of people had left. Why should I be any different?

I tried counting, to try and keep some track of time. I got to around five or six hundred before I lost track. So I began counting again. I only got to about sixty or seventy when I thought I saw a face. The mirrors were getting to me. I felt my sanity dropping. Then I saw the face again. It wasn't mine. The Phantom? Nah, I didn't fear him. Why would he haunt me if I wasn't afraid?

Three-hundred-seventy-eight... three-hundred-seventy-nine... there it was again! Was he watching me? I waved slightly. Hopefully he'd see. I don't think he waved back. But then he disappeared. I looked around for him. Was that him? Or that?

A door to the left of me opened. I stared at it, mouth agape. Either I was now completely insane, or the Phantom that everyone feared had just saved me. Saved me. Wow. I stepped out, clutching the roses like my sanity was held in them.

I turned my head and saw a swirl of black cape and heard soft humming. I had heard his voice before! Last night! Then he was gone. I spun around to try to find him and an exit. I saw a staircase and discovered it came frighteningly close to my bedroom. I shuddered. Maybe I was afraid... a little.

I saw Mme. Giry walking down the hall. "Ah, Elise. Here I find you. Come, you must get back to your post. Amos wants you," she told me. Her glace meandered down to the roses in my hand. She gave a half-smile. "Go deliver your gifts," she added. I smiled. She then turned on her heel and began to walk away.

I retraced the way back to Christine's dressing room. I knocked politely and heard a voice on the other side. "Come in," it said gently. Female.

I opened the door to be hit with an overpowering smell of roses. And a burst of colour. It was like a sea of roses. Like mine would make any difference. It took me a few seconds to find Christine.

She was seated in front of a wardrobe by a massive mirror. I stared at it with slight intensity. "Hello there," Christine said. I took my vision from the mirror and focused on her. She's very pretty. "Um, I was told to deliver these," I said shyly. I held out the roses like a three-year-old giving her mother a dandelion.

She took them gently from my hands. She smiled and sat them on her wardrobe. They had begun to wilt, but I don't think she noticed. If she did, she didn't say anything.

I spied a single red rose on her wardrobe, also. It was tied with a single black ribbon. "Who's it from?" I asked. Stupid me. "What?" she asked. Too late to turn back now. "The single rose on your wardrobe. With the ribbon?" I finished.

Her eyes grew slightly wider. "Oh, no one you would know," she told me. I had a pretty good guess. She quickly changed the subject. "I've never seen you before. Are you new?" she asked.

I perked up. "Yes. Last night was my first show. You were very good," I muttered the last part.

"What do you do? Are you a ballerina?" She asked.

I scoffed. "Yeah right. I can't dance."

"Chorus then?"

"Nope. Can't sing." I felt dumb saying this.

"Oh, everyone can sing. What do you do, then?"

"I... I work the ropes. With Amos and Joseph." I felt disappointed with myself. Next to her, I felt inferior. She must've noticed. "No job here is small. Don't be ashamed." I smiled, feeling better. I wished I could sing, though. I turned toward the door.

"Christine, it was nice to meet you finally. I tried to last night, but you were always... busy," I didn't want to reveal that I knew she knows the Phantom. She smiled a smile that showed she was slightly worried. "Good luck with the opera. Hope they go crazy for you again."

"I doubt it. I have no lines in this opera. Maybe next time."

I was shocked. "Why? You're great! That Italian lady Carlotta ought to have no lines! You can hardly understand what she's saying, anyway!" I was getting mad. "Um, excuse me. I shouldn't have spoken like that. Good luck, anyway," I said. With that, I left. Time to go practice some more.

Before I had gotten out of earshot, though, I heard Christine singing a song in the same tune as the Phantom's humming! What had happened? Well, now I know that Christine and I have something in common: we are in ties with the Phantom.

To the stage I went. Most of the set was already down. A large bedroom. Okay... I still didn't know what the opera was about. I rushed up the stairs to the balcony. My fear had totally dissolved. For that, I was thankful. Joseph was up there this time, leaning on the rail and smiling at me. Like we were pals.

Then, to my horror, he pulled out something from his pocket. My envelope. The seal was warped, and the paper was torn almost to shreds. He began a mocking song:

All the secrets are revealed.

Our new stagehand's playin' servant for the Ghost.

Then he laughed. A disgusting wheezy laugh. He sounded sick. Good. I hope he is. I felt myself getting hot. "Give that back, you drunk!" I shouted. He laughed again and let go of my envelope. It fluttered down... down... down onto the stage and landed by the large bed in the center of the stage.

I flew down the stairs, jumping at times. I ran, then scooped my letter up. I climbed the stairs and shoved the letter into one of my pockets. "Under his spell, aren't ya, missy?" he asked mockingly.I wanted to kill him. Right then and there. I didn't get the chance. Amos trotted up the stairs and whispered, "Showtime."

Huzzah. Now I can forget about that stupid drunk and do my job. I waited as the actors took their places on the stage. With a tug, I pulled the curtains open. Showtime.


Yay, long chapter. My fingers hurt.

You should know the drill by now. Nothing's mine unless you don't recognize it. I would like to get three reviews, but I am not picky. I'll take what I am given.

Okay, faithful (or not-so-faithful) readers, I leave you now. May I suggest you go outside? It's summer! At least... here in Ohio...

Until Next Chapter,
DaydreamingTurtle