-snores-

I...don't have any use for this space. Carry on.

oo0o0oo

Tori adorned her space in center stage, singing her lines as written. She was fully decked out in costume, seeing as this was the last rehearsal before the show tonight.

Erik had finally announced that her voice was perfect, that there was no more use for their lessons. She had learned everything she needed to learn, and both tearfully remembered what her first lesson had been like.

Meanwhile, the managers hadn't put up a fight at all about the opera; they knew the Opera Ghost well, and his liking for Tori. The leading role was a no-brainer: Tori had outdone Carlotta by a mile. She always looked at Tori with such utter loathing Tori was afraid she might collapse under it.

Seeing as there was no alternative, Piangi was Don Juan. Well, crap. There's nothing better than being felt up by this fat guy who looks like some Audio-Animatronics figure at Disney on stage in front of what must be thousands of people. Tori found it exceedingly hard to remain passionate about it when 1) She was nervous, and 2) Oh, COME ON. Piangi is disgusting.

Tori knew that Erik was always watching. He would always give a sign that he was there: something small falling behind the stage, a creaking sound in the rafters. Occasionally, when no one was looking, Tori would see him up above her, smiling and sometimes mouthing a few tips. After all, it was HIS opera, HIS vison. He had created the characters, so he knew what should happen.

After rehearsal, everyone was dismissed to their dressing rooms to get ready and rest up. As soon as she was turning the corner to the hallway off stage, Raoul caught up to her, smiling warmly.

"Hello, Miss Tori."

Seeing who it was, Tori shot him a glare before heading back down the hallway.

Raoul followed, confused. "What? Aren't you glad to see me?"

She took a shaky breath, her voice filled with mock politeness. "You nearly raped me, Raoul."

"I did no such thing!"

"Of course, you can't remember. You were drunk, hmm?"

"I-"

She rounded on him, eyes alight with rage. "Sir, if you know better, I am engaged and happy. YOU should be out of the picture by now."

He frowned, his eyes pleading now. "But I love you..."

"No, you don't. Now, if you will excuse me, I have to prepare for tonight's opera."

With that, she turned on her heel and walked away, full of confidence that he would finally leave her alone.

He did, but there was one problem...

Turning another corner, she found herself face to face with the managers, their own smiles reflecting in the generous light.

"Miss Tori," Andre began, taking a deep breath, the smile still remaining, "We have a plan to catch the Opera Ghost."

Tori's mouth fell open. "I'm sorry?"

Firmin chimed in, "We are arranging gunmen at various parts of the theater, for if you sing, he will certainly attend."

Tori shook her head.

"No, you can't do that-"

Andre patted her on the shoulder. "Oh, nonsense! We'll have that troublesome apparition caught in no time!"

"Wait!"

But it was no use. The managers passed her, each throwing her a smile as they walked by. Tori stood there, dumbly gaping in the hallway. Finally she shook her head to clear it and headed to her dressing room to talk with Erik.

As she closed the door, she heard his voice on the other side of the mirror.

"My dear, you look pale. Is something wrong?"

She nodded and sat down, her eyes watering a little.

"They're going to get rid of you."

"How?"

She choked a little and made the sign of a gun shooting.

There was silence. Then:

"Don't worry. I've got an idea."

Tori heard his footsteps leaving the mirror.