A/N Yay I have a beta! woohoo... So here goes my second chapter! Oh before I forget, don't get mad if my updates come slow, now, Band Camp starts Monday and school the week after Band Camp ends, so I won't be able to update as often, but I will try!

Chapter Two: The First Meeting

Charlotte aimlessly wandered through the halls of her father's opera house. She sighed lowly as some pretty ballerinas passed her snickering. One of the younger ballerinas, a particularly pretty one too, with forget-me-not eyes and ivory skin, stepped in front of her and dropped into a low, mocking curtsy.

"You must be Mademoiselle Ó hEachthairn. I am Jammes." Charlotte just tried to move past her and avoid whatever mischief she was trying to cause, but the child blocked her way. "Oh please do not deny us the pleasure of your presence, Mademoiselle.", she sneered. "We would love to be in the company of one so beautiful as yourself." At this she and the other ballerinas laughed and began to torment her with names and jeers. Charlotte ran to the nearest room, tears streaming down her face and blurring her vision. She fell onto a chaise lounge sobbing into her arms.

Once she had regained enough of her composure to stop crying, the girl sat up and looked around the room. The first thing that caught her eye was an ornate full-length mirror. She got up and moved toward it, then she looked at her reflection for a moment, noting how the deep green color of her dress made her look…passable. However, something struck her as odd about the mirror. After studying it for a moment she noticed that there was a small space between one side of the mirror and the frame. She wiggled her fingers into the space and pushed. The mirror slid sideways, opening into a long dark corridor. Overwhelmed by curiosity, the young woman stepped into the corridor. She turned to look back and noticed that she could see the room through the back of the mirror. Clever, she thought.

She turned and began to walk down the corridor. She couldn't see very well because of its darkness, so she placed one hand in front of her and kept the other on the wall to not run into anything or fall. Charlotte moved slowly, so that if there was a step down or a set of stairs somewhere, she wouldn't fall down them and break her neck. The walls as well as the floor were covered with beads of water and therefore very slick. She followed the tunnel very carefully, and she indeed didn't fall the stairs when she finally reached some.

Eventually the tunnel came out at an underground lake. Charlotte could see lights on the other side and was now dying of curiosity. She stepped into the water, hoping it wouldn't be to deep. She was fortunate, the deepest the water got was only up to her waist.

When she reached the other side she found something most astonishing; there was a house underneath the Opera House! If I tell anyone about this they'll really think I'm crazy, she thought.

"Hello? Is anyone there?" Her voice was more timid than she would have liked, she had wanted to sound brave. She sighed and listened for a response. "Surely there must be someone?" She knocked on the door, just to have it come open. Carefully, she stepped inside. "Hello?" Her voice quavered a little, letting the woman curse her weakness. Then suddenly Charlotte felt her arm twisted behind her and cried out in pain.

"Who are you? Why are you here? Have you come to see the monster who haunts this place?" The man's voice was slightly slurred, but Charlotte could still hear the pain.

"P-please sir, my… my name…is…..", Charlotte spoke between sobs, "My name…..is….Char….. Charlotte…Ó hEachthairn…. My…..my father…. is the….. The new… manager……" The man pulled her arm tighter, causing Charlotte to cry out again. Her tears fell freely, leaving a salty trail as they fell into her mouth.

"Why are you here?" He hissed in her ear.

"Please sir," she still sobbed, "I-I found a…. a dressing room…. and the mirror…. Oh please don't hurt me! I was just curious!" The man released her with a shove and she fell to the ground. She looked up at the man, her vision blurred by tears. Hatily, she treid to blink the tears away to be able to see him better.

He was wearing all black, tight black too, she noted. Even though he was drunk he still had an air of elegance about him. She looked up at his face. She thought it a little odd that he wore a mask that covered the right side of his face; the left side was elegant and handsome, though a little flushed from the combination of anger and liqueur.

"What are you staring at?", he sneered. His voice was so cold it made Charlotte shiver, and she lowered her eyes.

"I-I'm sorry…" she muttered.

"Well…. What am I to do with you? I definitely can't let you go back to tell your father of my existence…."

Charlotte laughed.

"Like he would believe me! Oh yeah I can see that: 'Father, there's a strange masked man who lives in a house underneath the opera…' Then he would surely lock me away." The man glared at her. "Well, he would, everyone says I'm mad anyway…" She shrugged and rose to her feet. "Now, for a proper introduction. Good evening Monsieur, I am Charlotte Elizabeth Ó hEachthairn. And you are ..?"

The man sighed.

"Very, well if I must play these silly games. Mademoiselle Ó hEachthairn, I am Erik, Angel of Music, and Opera Ghost."

Charlotte gasped and placed a hand on her racing heart.

"You're the Opera Ghost? I thought it was only silly superstition!" Erik merely shrugged and walked over to table where a bottle of amber colored liquid sat. Charlotte watched as he took a swallow of it. "So you are the one responsible for La Carlotta's madness!" The man nearly choked on his brandy (at least she thought it was brandy.)

"Carlotta's gone mad?" His voice held an almost childish excitement.

"Well half-mad, anyway." She tried to ignore his gleeful laughter. Once he had stopped, she continued what she had wanted to say. "My father says he doesn't know what to do about a new Prima Donna….." She sighed.

"Let me guess, you want to be the new Prima Donna?"

Charlotte's face lit up, with a dreamy expression.

"Oh, yes, more than anything." She tried to restrain the sadness in her voice, but it didn't work. "My…. My father won't let me though."

"And why not, if may I ask?"

"He says I'm too ugly." Her voice was so soft she was afraid he didn't here it. She stared at the floor, admiring the Persian rugs.

"Let me hear you sing." He said. She looked up at him inquiringly. "Just do it," he said. She shrugged and fixed her gaze on the wall behind Erik.

"What should I sing Monsieur?"

"Do you know Elissa's aria in act three of Hannibal?" She shook her head. "Oh, I am rather fond of that."

"Perhaps…." She took a deep breath, "perhaps something of my own?"

"You compose?" He sounded astonished. She nodded. "Very well then."

Charlotte ran through a list of her few compositions in her head and decided on one that was her particular favorite.

"I've wasted so many years, crying my silent tears." The melody was one which was better with the piano, so she stopped singing for a moment. "Do you have a piano?" He nodded and led her into a room which was decorated in red and gold, seeming to be a gaudy homage to music. She sat down at the piano. "Thank you," she said. She placed her hands on the keys and let the slow, painful melody fill her. Then she closed her eyes and let the music flow from her and fill the room. "I've wasted so many years, crying my silent tears, for the ones who never even cared, the ones who are never there. But no more! No more will I cry for you, no more lonely tears, so cold and sad. No more regretting my life, no more worrying who's by my side. I'm on my own, all alone. I'm sick of what I see, in this mirror that sits before me. I'm sick of this life I lead. Looking at my past, it's a wonder I could ever last so long. But no more! No more will I cry for you, no more lonely tears, so cold and sad. No more regretting my life, no more worrying who's by my side. I'm on my own, all alone. I'm on my own, letting go! It's time for me to move on. No longer will you drag me down." Here she stopped singing and the music swelled. She could feel the tears streaming down her face, but she didn't care. "No more…. No more crying, no more dying inside! No more coldness, no more loneliness, for me. I'm letting go, I'm moving on. This has gone on way to long! No more!" She let her voice soar on that final note and then opened her eyes. She turned and looked at Erik. Tears were streaming down his cheeks, too.

"That…was…That was beautiful." He sighed. She smiled bitterly.

"I only wish it was true. I wrote that in the hope that I could make it true."

"Your father is a fool not to let you sing. I think that the Opera Ghost may have to teach him a lesson."

Charlotte smiled.

"I'm afraid my father doesn't believe in ghosts, Monsieur."

"Erik,", he simply said. "Call me Erik, Mademoiselle."

"Then you, Erik, shall have to call me Charlotte."

He smiled back at her. He was very, very handsome.