A/n: Sorry about the wait. This chapter is a little slow, but its what connects the beginning to the exciting part. Next chapter is where the entertaining stuff begins.

I understand there has been some confusion as to the connection between the prologue and the rest of the story. Over the next few chapters, that will be explained. If not, well, it'll be explained even clearer later on.

This isn't best writing in the world, I'm sorry. But this part of the game happened almost a year ago, and I can't remember a lot. I wrote it in pieces (for instance, the beginning of this chapter was written last). I apologize.

xxXGoddessXofXdeadXloveXxx, I WILL read your story, promise. I haven't had much time lately, I'm sorry.

Please review.

"Did you hear?"

"Hear what?"

"About the ball!"

"Oh, yes! The one Monsieur Sully and his fiancée, Mademoiselle Noel is hosting."

"Yes! It's going to be magnificent! Are you going?"

"But of course!"

Conversations such as that could be heard all over the Opera. The said ball was that night, being held in honor of the Operas best patron, Monsieur Simon Sully's, engagement. The best food and wine and champagne had been purchased, the best decorations being put in place, the best musicians hired (even Carlotta was planning on making an appearance). Not a single detail was spared. The entire ballet-corps, as a whole, seemed to have gone on one massive shopping-trip. They bought the best dresses they could afford, the best hair decorations, and the best perfume. They began to try and figure out the most splendid ways to style their hair and began practicing their best small-talk. Thousands of eligible men would be there, most with titles, and some even from England. Of course, the French were not particularly fond of the English, however to a ballet girl, a title was a title.

It all seemed rather ridiculous to Denise. But then, of course, only a year ago she had been doing the same things. Buying the most lavish gown, the most expensive perfume, and the most stunning flowers for her hair…all for the same man that this ball was for. But then, she had been the lady on his arm back then, and not her sister…

The most subtle of details changed her whole outlook on the ball.

Of course, she wasn't going. She'd stay in the Costume Room, finishing her designs, and begin to remove her things from the Opera. And she would not cry. No, she would not shed a single tear.

She wouldn't.

She had lied to herself. Again.

As she placed more and more of her unused designs into a small bag, tears began to fall down her face. Funny that she should be so miserable when she could hear cheery music and happy laughter coming from down the hall. She could almost hear her sister whispering into Simon's ear, almost see him smiling, almost see them dancing, with everyone watching them. It would make her Father almost happy to see them together. It would bring him even closer to see how wretched she was, hiding in this dark room, staining fabric and sheets of paper with her uncontrollable tears.

She could almost feel his eyes on her, watching her…then again, that could always be the Phantom.

She brought her head up and looked around, and, of course, saw no one. Sighing, she picked up the bag. She'd finish the rest later.

Walking past the foyer where the ball was contained, she heard her sister's sickly-sweet voice ring out with laughter. Denise felt quite inadequate as she slowly walked by, seeing all the ladies in their fine, extravagant gowns. She only wore a simple black dress.

"The Phantom?" she heard her sister. "The Phantom is ridiculous! All those foolish demands and such. Honestly, the managers should hunt him down once and for all!"

Denise smiled faintly, and almost felt sorry for her sister. Surely, if the Phantom had heard, he wouldn't let that remark pass so easily…

Denise's eyes snapped open as she heard a strange sound from her sister's room, down the hall. It had almost sounded like something breaking. She slowly pulled back the covers and got out of bed. As she placed a robe around her, she heard her sister scream, but then the scream ended sharply. Her heart beating franticly, Denise opened her door and began to run quietly down the hall. She opened the door a crack and looked in and saw her sister as far back against the wall as she could get, and a tall, dark shadow in front of her. Its eyes were piercing red, and glaring into Rosemary's blue ones. Rosemary was frozen in terror, it seemed, and now Denise saw why: There was a rope around her neck, and the end was held by the Phantom. Denise's gasp went unheard as the Phantom spoke in his powerful, majestic voice:

"Never mock me again, do you understand?" Rosemary nodded, her face turning blue. "I strongly suggest you never come back to the Opera again."

Rosemary nodded again, and the rope was removed from her neck.

"Do you understand?"

"Yes!" Rosemary gasped.

"Good." The Phantom purred. Denise's heart stopped with dread…she knew what was going to happen before it did. Rosemary's eyes turned to look at Denise, and then the Phantom turned and saw her. Denise gasped again, and stepped away from the door. She ran back to her room and shut the door, locking it behind her. She closed her eyes as she leaned against the door, catching her breath and waiting for the Phantom to come and kill her.

…but nothing happened. She stood there for what seemed hours…but no one came. Slowly, she opened the door and peeked out. Seeing no one, she walked to her sister's room. No one was there, either. Panicked, she ran downstairs. Had he taken her sister? Was he killing her now?

"Denise!" a sharp voice came from the kitchen. Denise breathed a sigh of relief and she walked into the kitchen. Rosemary stood there, making tea.

"What did you do?" Rosemary demanded.

"I…I didn't do anything."

"He was about to kill me! And then…then you opened the door and he stopped. What did you do? Did you…"

"No!" Denise insisted, suddenly knowing what Rosemary thought had happened.

"How can I be sure? After…"

"Rosemary, please!" Denise begged, tears pricking at her eyes. "I would never do that. Never."

"…go to bed, I don't want to see your face anymore." Rosemary said, before turning away. Denise swallowed, then nodded and left the kitchen.

The next day, Denise stood uncomfortably on the stage along with Mademoiselle White and Monsieur Basset (the new lead tenor understudy), facing most of the Opera's cast and crew, who were sitting in the audience. The managers stood a few feet beside her, making their announcements.

"Denise Noel is the new lead soprano. With it being so late in the season, we hope you will all help her get ready." Said…Monsieur Firmin?

"And, as most of you are aware," interrupted the other manager, "our lead tenor walked out a few weeks ago. He shall be replaced by Monsieur John Sully."

Denise swayed. John? Surely it wasn't the same…

…but it was. He walked onstage with his wide, bright white smile, his chestnut brown eyes sparkling. His chestnut hair was untidy, yet in a captivating way. He stood tall and straight, dressed perfectly, as flawlessly handsome as ever. His strong chin, high forehead, faultlessly shaped eyes…Denise wasn't the only woman who swayed.

"John?" she heard her voice say.

"Denise!" John exclaimed in delight as he spotted Denise. He walked up to her until he stood only a foot in front of her.

"I thought you went back to England?" she asked Simon's younger brother.

"I did," John answered, "However, it seems I am attracted to France too much."

"…They seem to know each other." One of the managers said. Denise turned from John in embarrassment, and the managers continued their announcement.

"This is Monsieur Francis Basset, the new tenor understudy," the manager spoke loudly as Monsieur Basset nodded his head to the audience and John went to introduce himself, "And this is Mademoiselle White, our new soprano understudy."

John looked at her, paused, and then went to introduce himself.

"Bonjour," he said, his slight English accent coming through, "Je suis John Sully. C'est un plaisir de vous rencontrer."

"Hello, Monsieur." Elizabeth said softly, a slight blush coming to her cheeks. "I'm Elizabeth White, and it is a pleasure to meet you, as well."

Denise watched, with a smile. It seemed the entire Sully family had the same look in their eye when…

"Alright, rehearsal for today is cancelled, since our new leads still need to memorize their script. Good day." One of the managers said bitterly. There were suddenly great amounts of sound, of people standing and talking and dropping their scripts and running into each other. But, from the look on his face, it may as well have been silent for John, for he heard nothing but his conversation with Elizabeth.

Denise joined them, as did Monsieur Basset a moment later.

"We should practice together tonight." Elizabeth suggested.

"Excellent idea." John said immediately.

"I cannot come; I am having dinner with my daughter and her fiancée." Monsieur Basset said. "Perhaps I can join you another night?"

"Of course." Denise said, a smile on her face. Why was she smiling? Perhaps it was habit to smile politely to strangers.

"And you, Mademoiselle White?" John asked after Monsieur Basset excused himself.

"I have nowhere else to be."

"Where shall we have it?" Denise asked.

John paused, considering. Then he walked after the managers, stopping them. After a moment of conversing with them, he came back.

"We can have it here. We can use the piano in the orchestra pit. You still play, Denise?"

"Yes."

"Then, it's agreed?" Elizabeth asked.

"Here, tonight. What time?" John asked.

"Anytime is perfect." Elizabeth and Denise said at the same time. They looked at each other and laughed.

"Alright, then. Seven O Clock?"

Denise and Elizabeth nodded.

"I shall see you both there then, Mademoiselles."

"Good day, Monsieur." Elizabeth said.

"Goodbye, John." Denise spoke softly.

"We ought to warm up our voices, somehow." Elizabeth suggested after she and John had seated themselves beside the piano, at which Denise was sitting, playing chords at random.

"Denise?" John asked, almost tentatively, "Could we sing…that song?"

Denise looked at him, shock in her eyes. What made him think that she could sing it again?

"What song?" Elizabeth asked, curious.

"It's a duet that Denise wrote. My brother and she would sing it all the time…they were engaged, once. I always wanted to sing it. Could we?" John asked Denise again. "That is, if you do not mind, Mademoiselle?"

"Of course not. I would love to hear it. What is it called?"

Denise's hands were frozen on the piano. Sing it again? How…? She needed to move on, she knew. But to begin with something such as…

"As Long As You're Mine." She said. "It's a song Simon, John's brother, and I wrote together. …yes, John. We can sing it."

John smiled and stood.

"Thank you."

"Ready?"

"Yes."

Denise let her hands glide along the keys until she found the right chord. She began to play, then sang, softly at first:

"Kiss me too fiercely,
Hold me too tight.
I need help believing
You're with me tonight.
My wildest dreamings
Could not foresee
Lying beside you
With you wanting me!"

Her voice grew stronger with each line, and she began being surrounded by memories. Her and Simon, writing the song and laughing…

"And just for this moment-"

Now, they were children, playing their own little version of 'tag',


"As long as you're mine-"

She was seventeen, and they were dancing and smiling,


"I've lot all resistance-"

They were kissing for the first time, under the stars of London,


"And crossed some borderline-"

And now…now, they were under different stars. He was on one knee, holding out to her the most beautiful ring in the world, atop of the most beautiful building in the world, about to make the most beautiful commitment…


"And if it turns out,
It's over too fast…
I'll make every last moment last
As long as you're mine!"

She was almost surprised when she heard John's rougher tenor voice instead of Simon's smooth baritone,

"Maybe I'm brainless-
Maybe I'm wise.
But you've got me seeing
Though different eyes."

If she closed her eyes, she could almost pretend it was him…


"Somehow I've fallen
Under your spell.
And somehow I'm feeling,
It's up that I fell!"

She could see his face, with her eyes closed…she was singing to him, with him…

"Every moment,
As long as you're mine,
I'll wake up my body,
And make up for lost time!"

He was singing to her…

"Say there's no future,
For us as a pair,"

And now…now, they were singing together again…and she was swept up in the passion…

"And though, I may know,
I don't care!


Just for this moment,
As long as you're mine,
Come be how you want to,
And see how bright we shine!


Borrow the moonlight,
Until it is through.
And know I'll be here holding you
As long as you're mine!"

There was faint clapping…she opened her eyes, and she was back in the orchestra pit, singing with John to warm up her voice. Elizabeth was smiling and clapping her hands.

"That was beautiful!" she exclaimed.

"Thank you." Denise mumbled softly.

A few moments later, they were doing scales…and not one of them noticed that there had been someone else listening…

A week later, Denise, Elizabeth, Francis (Monsieur Basset) and John had stayed after rehearsals to practice, as had become their custom. Now that it was Ten O Clock, they were heading home. John offered to take Elizabeth home, to which Elizabeth eagerly accepted. John offered to take Denise home, as well, but she refused.

"I prefer to walk alone, and beside that, I have to finish cleaning my things out of the costume room."

"Are you certain? We could wait for you." Elizabeth said, worried.

"I'm certain, thank you, however."

Elizabeth nodded and they began for home. Denise walked into the costume room, suddenly wishing she had taken the offer. It was dark and her heart was beating quickly. Fear gripped her until she felt ill and could no longer breathe correctly. That feeling of impending doom returned. She considered leaving, but no…she should finish what she had started. It would only be a waste of time to not remove her things now. Her hands shaking, she tried to light a lamp, but every time the match was lit, it blew out again. She peered into the severe darkness, but could not see neither red nor golden eyes.

"…Monsieur Phantom?" she whispered. She knew he was in there, somehow she knew…and she was afraid.

She picked up the lamp, deciding to light it outside. Suddenly, she was grabbed from behind. The lamp shattered as it hit the floor. An arm wrapped around her waist, and a hand holding a piece of cloth covered her nose and mouth before she had the chance to scream. She struggled against the Phantom as much as she could; struggled with all her might to get away…this was too much like before! But no…the Phantom was far too strong. He made certain she could not slip away, or move her mouth from the cloth which was emitting a strange scent.

Suddenly, she couldn't fight anymore. She lost all strength…and an even more terrifying darkness was closing in on her…a tear fell from her eye.

Not again…and then she was unconscious.

RubyMoon's Secret Place

RubyMoon: I know, not too good. But the 'good' part is coming up. At least, as good as I can remember and write it. Please review. Ja Ne!