Yeah, I don't own it…..

AN: Sorry this chapter is so short, but I will begin work on chapter six here soon. I don't know much about singing since I am not a singer myself. So please bear with me here. Also, my spelling is quite horrible if you haven't noticed. Any beta-readers are welcome. If you are interested then email me at Thanks.

Also, much thanks to The Phantom's Shadow for your review! It means a lot to me.

(Michelle's POV)

"Michelle, what ever is wrong? You have been so quiet today." Meg asked me as we sat on stage after rehearsals.

"I'm always quiet, Meg." I bent over and unlaced my Pointe shoes, and began massaging my feet through the lamb's wool.

"Yes, but today you are exceptionally quiet." I looked at Meg, her eyes begging me to talk to her. I smiled slightly and regarded my feet once again.

"Meg, there is nothing wrong. I didn't sleep well last night and I am tired. That is all." She nodded her consent and stood up.

"Some of us are going into the city for a picnic dinner this evening in the park. Would you like to join us?" she asked shifting from foot to foot.

I looked up and could feel my face pale. I would have liked so much to join them, but I had voice lessons around the same time with a man I was sure I did not want to make angry. I shook my head and smiled. "No, thank you. I believe I will stay here and practice or at least get some reading done."

I felt terrible when I saw Meg's smile turn into a frown. "Oh, ok. I will see you tomorrow then." And with that she left. I sighed and looked at my shoes, knowing that soon I would have to buy a new pair. Who knew that being a chorus girl would be so expensive? Especially when those idiot managers were having us do almost the exact same thing as the ballet! I was exit to the dining hall for something to eat when a letter came falling from the ceiling, or so it seemed. I narrowed my eyes and picked it up, allowing my gaze to travel to the catwalks as I opened it. I groaned in frustration when I read it:

Michelle,

I must admit that I am quite pleased that you took my orders seriously; and have not decided to go along with your little friends. Do not be late for lessons tonight. I will meet you in your dormitory at 7:00 sharp.

Your Obedient Servant,

O.G.

I looked up into the catwalks again and narrowed my eyes. "So am I not allowed to have a life?" I called out towards the darkness. It wasn't until I brought my gaze back to the stage that I noticed a few scene shifters glancing at me with uncertainty.

(Erik's POV)

I couldn't help but smile as she read my letter. I was, indeed, very pleased that she did not choose to go with Meg and the other girls. I was about to leave when I saw her turn her glance up to the cat walks.

"So am I not allowed to have a life?" Inside I was laughing. This girl was much braver without me being in her immediate presence than at any other time. Then again, I have had that reaction my entire life. The stage hands all gave her a strange look and I watched as she left.

I will see you at seven o'clock my dear. I thought as I receded back into my domain; a world of darkness and music.

(Michelle's POV)

I made my way to the dining hall when I heard the clock strike six thirty. I groaned and quickly made my way through the line. Hurriedly, I took a bit of fruit, a thick slice of cheese, and a glass of water; promising to return the dishes at a later time and headed to my room. As I unlocked the door and entered I was pleased to see that I still had fifteen minutes to spare before this lunatic arrived. I sat down at my vanity and hurriedly ate my dinner. A few moments later I heard the flutter of a cape and looked to see a man closing my mirror.

"Oh, dear God." I mumbled my mouth full of apple. The man turned and looked at me as if I had just caught him with his hand in the cookie jar. I quickly swallowed the apple and stared at the mirror. "The…the mirror. What…how?" I knew that my words must have seemed childish, but how often does one see someone enter their bedchamber through a mirror?

"That is no concern of yours, Mademoiselle." He stated as he walked over to me. He was very tall and imposing with his crisp black evening attire. On his face he wore a mask, all of which I hadn't noticed the night before in the pitch black of the ballet room. I quickly stood up and backed away from him as he approached.

"Do not stare at me so, Mademoiselle. I do not like being stared at." His voice again was like ice, and immediately, as if some unseen force was controlling my movements, my head dropped. I stared at the floor for what seemed like hours until he spoke once again.

"Are you going to stand there like a stone all night, or shall we begin our lessons?" I looked up at him again and nodded.

"I suppose the sooner we start the sooner I shall have my privacy again." This statement caused him to stare at me as if I were an unfortunate insect, his foot at the ready to end my life. He sat down in front of my vanity and looked at the plate of food that I had just begun to eat when he arrived.

"A bit of fruit and a piece of cheese; this is not enough. From now on you will eat a good meal. I will not stand aside and allow you to waste yourself away due to malnourishment caused by your own stupidity." I watched his eyes gaze over my form as he said those words, causing me to shift from one foot to the other. When I didn't reply he brought his eyes back to mine and stood up. "Do I make myself clear, Michelle?"

I nodded and backed further away. The man sighed and shook his head. "You can't expect me to instruct you properly with you at the other side of the room. Come here." I slowly made my way to him. My mind screaming at me to stop and run out the door; but somehow I knew that if I had even tried that I would have found it locked. I didn't want to think about what he would have done if I had attempted such a thing.

"Stand up straight." He said as he stood; reaching out to adjust my shoulders. I did as he said and waited for his next command.

"Now, demonstrate how you properly support." I did as he said and received a nod of approval in return. "The support is good. But your posture needs work. Keep yourself standing upright, your chin should be high. Sing to the audience, not down on them. I have yet to see a Prima Donna that doesn't carry herself proudly."

"Why are you doing this?" I asked my voice soft like a child afraid to speak for fear of getting into trouble. I shivered as he glared at me, his eyes boring into mine like a nail being hammered into a wall.

"Would you rather me help you reach your potential or kill you, Mademoiselle. I can easily do either. It makes no difference to me." I stood still as he started circling me and I could feel his eyes on me the entire time.

"It…it's just that…I don't understand why you would care if I became good enough to be a Prima Donna, Monsieur."

"I have my reasons. That is all you need know." I nodded at this statement which he made clear was the end of that discussion. He stopped behind me and adjusted my shoulders once again. "DO NOT SLOUCH! You look more like a monkey than a young lady!"

I was quickly becoming annoyed with this crazed man. I straightened my shoulders once again and he came to stand in front of me.

(Erik's POV)

I was beginning to think that she was slouching for the sake of my annoyance. Somehow I wouldn't put this trick past her, but I was not going to let her win this little game.

"You will not slouch at any time from now on. I am everywhere, Michelle. If you do then I will know, and you will be punished for disobedience." I spoke slowly, wanting to be sure that she got the message through that thick skull of hers.

"Yes, Monsieur." She said.

"And you will need to learn how to speak up. How can you expect to allow your voice to soar on stage when you are so quiet off of it?" I watched as her eyes dulled of their usual brightness.

"I am sorry, Monsieur. It is a habit."

"Well, break it." I tried to make sure my voice wasn't too cruel, but it was so easy to intimidate her. It almost seemed like a dangerous game, that I was quickly finding myself enjoying. She nodded her consent and awaited my next orders. I almost felt like I could tell her to jump off of the roof of the opera and she would do it, just to keep away from a punishment she felt so very sure I might grant her.

"Now, sing a scale for me. Start out a low as your voice allows and proceed until you can not continue any higher."

She did as I bid with no question or complaint, but I found that the soul I had heard in her song the night before was not present in the string of notes resonating from her at the moment.

"The sound was lovely, Michelle. But you must feel the notes. Let them consume you. When you sing, all that matters is the music and yourself." I paused and watched as she gave a nod of understanding. "Do it again."

(Michelle's POV)

"Do it again." That was always one phrase that I hated. I knew that I probably sounded bored while singing the scale, but what was wrong with it? When there are words, then certainly, that is the time when I feel most alive with the music. I did as he asked, trying hard to pretend that they were the most important things in the world.

He had started circling me again when I was not even half way through the scale. I was about to panic when I felt one hand rest on my collar bone forcing my neck, however gently, to rise higher. His other hand, I felt, he had placed upon my abdomen. Suddenly, I felt the passion of the notes as I sang. I did not hear the boring chords that I had always associated with warming up. Instead I heard a beautiful song, and I tried with all my might not to lose the passion that the chords had strung up inside of me.

That passion was quickly wilted when he stepped away from me.

"That was very good, Michelle." He paused and adjusted his already impeccably straight cravat. "That will be enough for tonight. Get some sleep, my dear." And with that he was gone. I had barely enough time to realize that he had left the same way he had entered; through the mirror.