A/N - I don't own any of the classic characters. (Erik, Christine, Raoul, etc etc.) I do! Own Nicholas and all the other unique one's I'll introduce. So, anyway - slow start I know but if I rushed into things then hey - the story would end sooner and there would be fewer chapters for you guys to R&R! So.. Just do it!
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"Any day Nicholas, really!" a harsh voice called. Nicholas gritted his teeth to keep silent, and obeyed his Master. He hurried to finish the mending of the hansom cab, carefully ensuring the large wheel was securely in place.
"Finished, Monsieur." With that, the young man turned to continue on with the list of duties that recently seemed endless. His Master gave a quick and disinterested inspection of the job. Nicholas was very skilled with his hands and had never done a poor job before, he had little worries that this repair would be anything other than perfect. With a nod, he encouraged the driver to climb back into his seat behind the small cabin space and the hooves of the horse tethered to it resumed their steady cobble.
Nicholas returned to the barn, making his way to the stables which housed the horses. The majority of it's inhabitants were working diligently upon the streets of Paris, and this provided perfect opportunity to clean each stall and replace their bedding. The pungent smell of urine and decaying hay had become familiar and welcoming to Nicholas, who had been performing the same menial tasks for many years. His mind drifted back to the events that had led him here.
The orphanage had never been a kind place, to any of the children, least of all him. The obvious scarring of his face had earned him only loathing and suffering from the other children. Even the adults scorned him, and he was often neglected in favor of the other children. If anyone should go hungry, it would be the beastly child. He was made to work much harder than any of the other, and was often isolated and beaten for no real reason. Little did he know at the time, some little girl amidst the class would make up some horrid story of an imagined assault the devil-child had committed against her, and he paid for those crimes. Nicholas had tried to run away several times, finding himself in despicable situations. They always found him, somehow, and brought him back to his torment. When he was only twelve, a greedy, round man had appeared at the doors of the orphanage and spoke hurriedly with the head Mistress. Before he knew what was happening, Nicholas and his meager belongings were settled roughly into the mans hansom and his life as a servant began.
The affectionate whinny of a mare, heavy with child, brought him from his reverie. Though he was never treated affectionately, Nicholas (now eighteen) was rarely beaten and always fed. He provided a skilled service to his Lord, and had earned some form of respect for it. He smiled at the horse, one of his only friends, and pulled a few cubes of sugar from his pocket. She nosed his palm eagerly, and lapped the treat from them. He spent a moment brushing her mane, before continuing in his work. The evening was falling, and it would not be long before he could return to his room - and his music.