Disclaimer:Well, this chapter has a couple original things I wrote in it, but otherwise, the same as last chapter goes for this one.

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Gabrielle survived her first rehearsal as a choirgirl of the Opera Populaire, but felt that she had done so quite narrowly. Madame Giry had shot her many sharp looks, knowing that her newest student merely moved her mouth, not emitting any sound. Gabrielle felt relieved, though, that the hectic day was done with. When she was sure that everyone else had gone, she stood on the stage alone and looked out at the empty seats. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, and looked out again, and it was no longer the man's land, but a glimmering, ethereal realm which seemed only to exist in a dream. She saw the seats filled, the room filled with light from a grand chandelier. She looked up and saw herself and her father, sitting on the balcony and applauding loudly.

She had dreamed of that for so long, but she had never even set foot in Paris when her father was alive, and she and Dimitri would discuss it nearly every night. They weren't poor, but her father had his own troubles. He couldn't walk, his right leg twisted and crooked. He didn't like people seeing him, and never left his home. He thought himself incomplete after he was suddenly taken illafter his wife, Gabrielle's mother, had died. The illness had left his limbs disfigured, and Dimitri could no long stand to see his tired, broken body in the mirror.

Then, the sight before Gabrielle's eyes changed, flickering to thesceneof the night her father died. She had curled up next to him, as she did often when the sound of wind and thunder in the night scared her. It was then that they both awoke upon hearing the sound of glass breaking downstairs. Gabrielle immediately jumped up, ready to look for what had made the noise, but her father had stopped her. Instead, he picked up his walking stick and hobbled off down the stairs. Gabrielle tried to follow him, but he locked her in the room. When she finally managed to break the lock somehow and get out of the room, she couldn't even reach the top of the stairs when the crack of a fired shot echoed through the house. She looked down over the balcony and saw her father lying dead on the ground. The burglar had already fled.

Gabrielle dropped down onto her knees on the stage, breathing heavily. The tears flowed down her porcelain-smooth face.

"Papa," she muttered to herself. "Papa, I miss your music…"

She got back to her feet, and suddenly, it seemed that the room was enveloped in light. She imagined her father sitting at the piano, and the seats filled. She imagined her father's fingers hitting the keys, playing a song that she had never heard, but somehow knew the words to. It seemed that he had written this song for her from heaven…and she opened her mouth, doing what she swore she couldn't. Her voice, rich and pure, yet untrained, echoed through the relic of a theatre...

The night has come too soon

The shadows flex and spread their wings

While darkness swallows everything

And I am all alone

And in this silent night

My nightmares are consuming me

And no one's there to rescue me

I'm lost, and no one knows

Will this be the day – when somehow, someway

Somebody finds me again?

And is there a way – that somehow, someday

I might feel my heart beat again?

I was not born to know

Not born to know how loving feels

Born to hurt, but not to heal

Born to remain alone

Gabrielle shut her mouth quickly and stared around, making sure no one had heard her. Her vision of the theatre in its prime melted away, and she once again was fully aware of where she was. She gathered herself up and scurried off the stage.

She was thoroughly unaware that someone had heard her. Lurking behind a curtain in Box 5, a figure had been drawn by the sound of music. Gabrielle had never even thought to glance upward in the specter's direction, having already run backstage.

"Gabrielle," Madam Giry said abruptly, catching the young girl by the shoulder. "Would you mind terribly if I spoke to you for a moment?"

"No," she replied shakily, fearing that she'd been eavesdropped upon after all. "What about?"

"You're not even trying," Mme. Giry chided. "I'm sure you have a wonderful voice if you try,"

"I don't sing, and I won't steal any show. I've said that over and over again," Gabrielle said quietly. Then, she breathed in deeply. "But I never said that I couldn't. I just…don't have it in me,"

"Perhaps you need a teacher," Mme. Giry suggested. Gabrielle looked up at her with mournful eyes.

"My father was my teacher," she said quietly. "I don't need another. I need him." She lifted up the hem of her skirts and hurried down the hallway, back to her room.

"They want me to sing," she muttered to herself. "Who do they think they are? This isn't just a game. Music is my life…was my life,' she corrected herself. After her father had died, she had promised that the music would be their little secret.

Gabrielle, never one who liked chapels and candles and showy prayers, knelt down by her bed and clasped her hands and rested her forehead on them.

"Daddy," she muttered. "Daddy, please, come back…"

Please take me home, I'm lost here

Someone tell me what to do

No one but you stood by me

Now you've left me too…

She sang so quietly, it seemed she was whispering a secret to someone. She looked around, hoping that, by some miracle, she had gotten her wish. She rubbed at her eyes in disappointment, seeing that no one had come after all, and lay down in bed. She forced herself to fall asleep.

For the first time, her father appeared in her dreams. They were once again sitting at his piano, while he played. Instead of singing, as she always did when he played, she hugged him tightly as he sang to her. She felt herself smile, and did not force it back. Things were right in this dream. She looked downward and saw her father's leg, not twisted and vestigial as it had been. But perfect, long and straight.

"Don't let me wake up, daddy," she sighed, sitting in closer to him.

"You have to," he chided, not pausing in his playing. "I died, not you, child. You have much more to do before your time is done."

"So did you," she said sadly. "No one here needs me, papa. Why can't I stay here with you?"

"Don't be silly," he said. "There are some who need you, if you only open yourself to finding them."

"Will you come see me again?" she asked. Her father shook her head. "But papa, why? You have to come to me, or I'll go insane,"

Dimitri looked at his daughter and shook his head. Keeping his eye honed directly at her, he kissed her on the forehead and granted her one last song. She sat up straight and stared at him, his voice growing more and more distant with every note.

Don't give up now, my songbird

Look at what you have to give

So long as you still remember

I will never leave…

Gabrielle sat bolt upright in her bed, staring frantically around her room. "Daddy?" she said loudly. "Daddy, come back!" She shrieked repeatedly for her father until Madam Giry and Meg came rushing through the door.

"Child, what's wrong?" Mme. asked as they sat down next to Gabrielle, whose body shook with dry sobs. "It's all right, you were having a nightmare,"

"No, it wasn't a nightmare," she said quietly, "You don't understand. It was the best dream I've ever had…but I woke up."

Meg looked at the other girl in sympathy. "You'll be happy here, you know," she said comfortingly. "Just give it a chance."

Gabrielle tried desperately to normalize her breathing. "I want to try," she said quietly. "It's just…it's…hard." Her big brown eyes shimmered with tears and moonlight.

"Go to sleep," Mme. Giry said, rubbing the girl's back comfortingly. "We'll see how you feel in the morning, hm?" She tilted her head to the side and looked into Gabrielle's eyes. The younger girl nodded, and lay back down as Meg and Mme. Giry left. Mme. locked the door behind her, which Meg noticed.

"What are you doing, mother?" she asked, worried.

"Don't dwell on it, child," she said. "I only want to see…"

Gabrielle slowly ay her head back on the pillows and stared blankly up at the wall. "You're really gone," she sighed in realization. "So where do I go from here?" She pulled the covers up closer around herself. She was ready to force herself to go to sleep again when she heard something rustling as though it were far away. She closed her eyes and dismissed it as a rat rummaging through the garbage outside.

I am the angel of music…

"Who's there?" Gabrielle said quietly.

Come to me, angel of music…

"If you don't leave, I swear…" she said shakily.

I am the angel of music…

Gabrielle sat up again, practically throwing the sheets off of the bed. Her heart began pulsing as she opened her mouth and began to sing her reply to this voice's rhapsody.

What reason is there to believe you?

Why even bother to try?

There's no such thing as angels

Why believe a lie?

She stopped and waited anxiously. This time, the voice stopped. She gulped in relief and nestled back into bed. The rest of the night was spent in relative peace.

Meanwhile, outside, Madame Giry had her head against the door, having heard the entire exchange. She shook her head, and stepped away.

"You've chosen her, Erik?" she muttered. "Just when I thought these games were done…"