Okay, there were some difficulties, but I have restarted this story. For those of you who read the prologue last time, there have been a few changes but nothing major. Mostly I gave Iroh a better role and Haru a crappier one. Oh goodness, this is so exciting. This is my last thing that I will ever post as a seventeen-year-old. That's right, tomorrow is my birthday! Watch out Cabella's, here I come!

Katara was drifting, spinning, falling. Tumbling as gently as a leaf in the wind. She felt as though the entire world had twisted just for her, and yet she wasn't frightened. Katara slowly opened her eyes as a voice surrounded her, overwhelmed her, and yet it soothed her. The small dressing room was dark, but the sound of that voice seemed to fill it with a supernatural light. It echoed from every corner, yet it was as soft as a whisper. Katara lay there on the couch and merely listened to it, letting herself soak it in.

"Help me Katara." The voice said softly, the glorious notes of music only lost for a second before taken up again. Katara listened for a moment more. She knew the song well and gradually she fell into pace with the voice, the voice of an Angel. Their voices melted together in the warm air. If anyone were to pass by they would have been struck dumb by the sound of such perfection. But it was the middle of the night, and Katara and her angel were alone. This is how it had been for nearly three months. The last note rang softly through the room for about ten seconds after the song had ended. It was suddenly as silent as a graveyard, but this in itself brought nothing but comfort to Katara.

"Will you show yourself to me now, Angel?" She asked meekly.

"Not yet. But the time is soon that I will come to you." The Angel whispered.

"Promise?" Katara asked.

"Of course I promise. Now go to sleep." It was as though a hand had rested on Katara's shoulder and gently lowered her down until she was lying once more on the couch. Her eyes drifted shut as the voice of the Angel sang her to sleep.

Katara went about her business that next morning as usual. While walking down one of the many busy corridors someone shoved her from behind. Katara fell forward onto a rickety, cast-away prop that wasn't able to support her weight. Zula glared over her shoulder in passing, daring Katara to defend herself. Katara averted her gaze until the Prima Donna passed before she began to struggle out of the collapsed wooden frame.

"Are you alright?" A stagehand asked and hurried over to give her a pull up.

"Yes, I'm fine. Thank you Haru." Katara said and began inspecting a large splinter in her palm with distaste. Haru waved it off as nothing and went back to his duties. Katara shifted over to a small alcove in order to dig the chunk of wood out of her hand. The alcove was already occupied by a small crowd of ballet brats who were huddled around Jet, the master scene shifter.

"…the skin of his hands are pale as death itself! But not his face, oh no. He has several heads that he shifts at random, like the legendary Koh. One is of a blue demon, another is of fire. Most of the time he doesn't even bother with a body all together!" Jet was saying. Katara paused and looked up from her hand, listening intently. "Why, you may ask does he leave his body and roam only as a head? It's because then he cannot be heard as he approaches…and slips his lasso around your pretty little necks."

"And just how can he slip a lasso around anybody's neck if he doesn't have a body to hold the rope?" Katara jumped and turned to the sound of the voice only a few inches from her ear. It was the lead dancer, Suki. She glared at Jet with a cocked eyebrow. "Your phantom sounds like a pile of merde to me! Come on girls. Your late for rehearsal." Suki began ushering the young girls into the corridor with Jet seething at her back.

"You think that until you see him for yourself. He has the yellow eyes of the snake! Don't expect my aid when he comes after your little chicks, mother hen!" Jet said, making a sign with his hand to ward off evil.

"It's true!" Koko cried, tugging on Suki's dance costume. "The phantom has been doing all sorts of things! He's the one that drove Choir Master Pakku to madness two months ago in the middle of a production!"

"Master Pakku was already pretty much mad! It was Zula's singing that finished him off!" Suki said in exasperation, grabbing Koko's hand and continuing down the hall.

"What about the Western Dragon? Everyone knows he's in league with the phantom!" Meng demanded. The Western Dragon was a mysterious stranger that haunted the opera house as though a phantom himself. Nobody knew his real name, and nobody knew exactly where he came from. But he radiated wisdom and the managers were too superstitious to turn him away. "And not only that, but my mother knows the phantom!" Meng finished and paused as though to say no more. The girls began to squeal pull on her sleeves until she gave in with an excited smile. "It's true! She's in charge of his box! She gives him his program and in return he leaves a package of bean curd puffs or a few silver peices!"

"That is nonsense! Now come!" Suki said angrily and shoved Koko in front of her. Katara watched them walk away and turn to go as well when she found her nose pressed against a sweaty obstruction. Jet was standing right in front of her, blocking her way and watching her closely. Katara looked down at the ground awkwardly and sidled passed him. She tried to pretend that the stories of the phantom didn't bother her. There had been several strange occurrences around the opera house, but none that happened directly to her and so there was no reason to think of there being a phantom or demon behind them. And yet still, she always felt as though something were always following her, watching her. She shivered and began making her way to the stage where the other chorus girls had gathered to rehearse. Suki was standing just behind the curtain, speaking to two young men. Katara barely paid them a glance as she walked passed them, but froze. She had merely caught a glimpse of the gentlemen, but in that glimpse had been a flash of silver-gray eyes. It can't be. Katara thought to herself, dismissing her suspicion with a shake of her head and walking forward onto stage as Pakku began tapping his stand for attention.

Ten minutes later, Katara was going through her part, walking forward with her arms outstretched and singing her three lines loudly. And there he was again. One of the men Suki had spoken to. He was sitting on the fourth row, watching her. His gaze was intense and she could still feel his eyes on her when she turned and sauntered to her place. She couldn't help but throw inconspicuous glances at the man every now and then. She couldn't tell for sure if it was him. Yet every time she looked at him she became more sure that it was him. Aang, the boy that had stolen her heart in their childhood. He wasn't a boy anymore however. His dark, chestnut hair fell down luxuriously over his eyes and a finely muscled body could be deciphered beneath his nice clothing. She watched him out of the corner of her eye as he fidgeted with his gloves, embroidered with blue.

"B flat you twit! Not B sharp!" Paku screeched, yanking Katara violently out of her musings. Paku continued rambling at the off-key Sungi horn player, his eye twitching menacingly. Finally he gave a theatrical wave of dismissal and collapsed to sob in a corner. Katara glanced sideways at the man in the auditorium who was now making his way up to the stage. She felt a sudden surge of panic and scurried into the safety of the bustling corridors.

She didn't look back the entire distance to her small dressing room. She had a sudden feeling of being hunted and adrenaline rushed through her body, pushing her on. She slammed her door shut and locked it. She stood there for a moment gathering breath, then collapsed on her chaise in a fit of giggles.

"Angel? Angel are you there?" She asked excitedly, glancing around expectantly. A moment later she felt his presence.

"Yes, I am here." Said the soothing voice.

"Oh Angel, you'll never believe it! I didn't myself for a moment, in fact I still don't quite know if he was real…"

"He?" The voice asked suspiciously.

"Yes, he! Aang! Oh goodness, I haven't seen him since I was a child! And do you know what I did? I ran!" Katara giggled once more and sat down in front of her vanity to brush her hair. "It was just like when we were little and playing tag. Oh no! I hope he didn't forget and think I was just running away. Then again I don't even know if he knows that I saw him. What do you think I should do, Angel?" There was no answer, "Angel?"

"Yes, I am here." Came the voice, now barely a mournful groan.

"Angel? Did I do something to displease you?" Katara asked, looking around her small dressing room even though she knew she'd never see the owner of the voice.

"I'm afraid I can no longer be your teacher." The voice said after a pause.

"But why not?" Katara asked. There was a sudden chill in her heart that only grew stronger as she waited for her Angel to answer her.

"How can you give me your heart and your voice when they are set on another?" He finally asked.

"Aang is just a friend from my youth!" Katara said, standing up and walking around in desperate circles. "Please don't leave! Just tell me what to do that will make you stay!"

"Don't speak to him, this friend from your youth. Don't acknowledge him at all. Always remember that he is nothing but a distraction." The voice said.

"But…"

"Katara, do you love me?"

"Of course I do Angel…"

"Then keep him out of your mind. I must go now. There are preparations to be made for thursday night. Remember that I'm am always watching over you."

"Goodnight, Angel." Katara said with a small smile.

"Goodnight Katara." And the presence was gone. Katara sat back down at her vanity, looking sadly down at the olive skin of her hands.

Ignoring Aang, it turned out, was much harder than Katara expected. He seemed to be everywhere, skulking through the hallways. At first she was caught unaware, but soon she learned the trick of avoiding him. She was friends with nearly every member of the cast and crew, they became her sentinels, warning her if he was near and she would not turn a corner without peeking behind it first. Her life continued on as normal with the evening visits and voice lessons from the Angel and her work during the day. Until Thursday morning.

"Who is it?" Katara called sweetly as someone knocked on her door.

"It's me my lady." Came a cheerful voice. Katara pulled a robe over her nightgown and opened the door to reveal Master Gyatso.

"Can I help you with something, master?" She asked.

"I'm afraid it's Zula. She's asking to see you." He said.

"What in the world for?"

"She's ill. She will see no one else." Gyatso said with a confused shrug.

"She's ill?" Katara asked concernedly, tying the sash around her waist and pushing past Gyatso. Zula's dressing room wasn't far from Katara's, but it was certainly larger. It was nearly the size of the ballerina dormitories and every inch was adorned to Zula's taste. Zula herself was lounging on a couch, her head lolling as though half asleep. She didn't look ill, at least not more than usual.

"Katara, my darling!" Zula cried, holding her hands out. Katara stepped forward uneasily and took her hand. Zula's hands were warmer than Katara expected, they were also stronger. Zula yanked her down on her knees so they were now eye to eye. "I'm afraid I can't go on tonight." Zula's golden eyes were unfocused, her pupils contracted, she wasn't even looking at Katara. "I cannot allow any other to take up my role, except you, sweet Katara." She said dramatically, stroking Katara's cheek.

"Excuse me?" Katara said, cocking an eyebrow.

"I could be dying. Please, take my part. As consolation that I will have not ruined the production!" Zula gave a small cough which left her gasping afterwards. Katara glanced over her shoulder at Gyatso. He just shrugged at her and nodded.

"Um, alright Zula. Rest yourself now." Katara said, trying to unobtrusively pull her hand from Zula's iron grip.

"Oh thank you Katara! You are such a darling! How could one as unworthy as me have ever done you wrong when you are the better of both of us?" Zula held on to Katara's hand tighter and broke down into sobs. With a wail of anguish she was sitting up with her arms around Katara's neck. Katara gave Zula an uneasy pat on the back. Gyatso stepped forward and helped Katara remove herself. A maid came in to help Zula from the couch to a small bed and the two took the distraction to sneak from the room.

"I wonder what she's up to now?" Katara said suspiciously, glancing back at the gilded doors of Zula's dressing room.

"I can't imagine she's up to anything. Nothing could get her to admit someone as her better and she's not a good enough actress besides." Gyatso said with a shrug. "Do you feel you are up for the leading role in our production?"

"Huh?" Katara asked in surprise.

"That is what she was asking of you, am I correct."

"Um, I guess it was, but you aren't seriously going to consider…?"

"And why not? It's for you to decide. Zula is obviously in no condition to go on, so can I depend on you to stun the crowd, or shall I hunt someone else down in a fit of desperation?" Gyatso asked. Katara stared at him in astonishment. She had never expected to be handed the lead role of anything. Then, she sensed the presence of the Angel. And she felt rather than heard his voice whisper the answer in her ears.

"Yes." She said, "I will do it." Then she was quietly sick in a corner.

I know the conversation with Zula wasa bit...wierd...just stick with me! I swear it will all be explained in time. And remember to review! Even if you hate it, tell me what to do to improve!