A/N:Ah, so our two characters finally encounter one another, please review!

Disclaimer: I don't own the Phantom of the Opera or any of the characters in it... oh but if only there was a way to go back and change Christine's mind about Erik, he is truly far more interesting than that pathetic... retarded... Raoul! (oh truly people, I really have nothing against Raoul, but I just love Erik more)

"Oh it is going to be so lovely having you here with us, you'll be the center of attention" little Meg told Kristen as her mother left the two alone in Kristen's new bedroom. Meg had been slightly surprised at first seeing the burn scars on the young woman's face, but they were not all that bad, she could look past them. In some strange way, the mangled flesh that barely circled some parts of her eyes, perhaps enhanced her individuality, even made her more beautiful than what she would have been before the accident. She did not saying anything towards the marks, she only accompanied Kristen as she was introduced to her room.

It was a simple room, as many were, including a comfortable sized bed, which was a luxury compared to the fact that most of the young ballerina's had a bed only small enough for one, Kristen was gifted with a larger size. Madame Giry thought that perhaps the girl would need the extra space. She did not want the poor child to fall out if she could not see. There was a wardrobe, empty though, and a vanity with a looking glass and a few drawers.
Kristen frowned, and kept silent. This girl was obviously a bit giddy for her age. She listened to the young ballerina blabber on about how wonderful her life at the Opera house was going to be, almost as if she didn't have a brain to invent the words she uttered. How was life going to be fine for her here? she wondered in sarcasm and she almost felt annoyed, but how could she show these feelings to the young girl who was obviously only saying these things to make her feel better. She could not be so rude to someone who would take the time to at least try and make her dark world brighter.

So she managed a smile, starring into space. She thought she must have looked like a complete idiot, she didn't know where Meg was to even look her in the eye, her ears told her that the girl was to her right, but did she know for sure? she was afraid to project her attention in any given direction for fear that the young girl would say no, over here Kristen.

"You are very kind" Kristen said, "I'm only too thankful to be allowed to stay here, if it were not for you I would have no place to go" she said. Meg smiled,

"Well, it is no trouble to us at all, we have a few vacant rooms it seems, and it will be nice to have someone to talk to who is not in the ballet, or who does not consider themselves competition. I'll make sure you know this place by heart, even if you cannot see, I'll make sure you can find your way through most of the place." Meg gasped, oh goodness, the girl did not seem in the least bit uneasy about the idea of wandering the place alone. She knew her mother was going to just kill her for telling Kristen of the mysterious happenings, but she could not let the girl live here confused about what everyone was whispering to each other.

"Kristen, has my mother mentioned anything... unusual, to you, about this place?" Meg asked, her voice in little more than a whisper, her footsteps even grew soft as she moved to sit on the bed beside Kristen.

"Mysterious happenings?" she asked in confusion. It was already a mysterious happening that all of this was happening, and she had yet to kill her ignorance about whatever young Meg could possibly mean.

"Yes, those in relation to the Opera Ghost" Meg said,

"The Opera Ghost?" Kristen felt a smirk of humor working it's way to her lips. "Are you trying to tell me that the theater is haunted? How can you joke at a time like this? And I've never believed in ghosts, What is real is what I can touch with my own hand, it's always been that way for me" she said, trying to sound as friendly as she could, despite her fear, humorous doubts, and wonder.

"Oh, no, no, no, Kristen, this is no joke. We hear him, he walks behind the walls, he walks among us, we hear his voice. He says things, oh Joseph gave the most fearsome description of him. Two eyes so sunken in that he could very well pass as a skeleton. He has no nose Kristen! and he wears a mask, a fearful white mask, one of the girls said she's seen it! My mother knows more about him than anyone, I know she does, but she refuses to speak about it. Whenever something has happened, something bad, like what happened to Carlotta, she's always there, calm as could be, and she gives the managers messages from the Opera Ghost! She won't say a word. Kristen, you must promise me that you will not tell her what I've just told you now" Little Meg's eyes grew troubled at the thought of her mother finding out that she had just exposed the dark secrets of the Populaire to a girl who had just arrived.

Kristen listened, half believing that this young girl was harebrained, or that she was simply a believer of folklore, but she guessed the least she could do for her newest and probably only friend, was agree and ease her nerves the slightest bit, "All right, my friend, I will tell no one, least of all your mother" she said,

"Don't worry about everyone else, they already know. Everyone knows about the Phantom of the Opera! Everyone knows how he watches the performances from box five, he makes sure the managers give him box five, every single night! and though he is there, we never see him! I also heard they give him payments of 20,000 francs a month, can you believe it! whoever the ghost is, he is rich by now, I can't imagine why a ghost would need that much money!"

Kristen was astounded by the level of sincerity in the girl's tone. She obviously believed in this fairy tale, and she certainly spoke in a forewarning voice. "Well, perhaps the ghost is not a ghost, Meg, maybe it is one of your fellow performers playing a silly joke on everyone. Some people become very tickled upon making others cower in fear, or grow mad with rage." Meg's little eyes grew wide with alarm,

"No Kristen." She sighed, "I suppose there is no use in trying to convince you. But you will learn soon enough that he is real, and that it is not just one big practical joke. In fact, that is what Armand and Firmin thought when they first caught wind of the Opera ghost. They thought Poligny and Debienne were playing a splendid little joke on them, but when the letters kept coming, they learned otherwise. When the set fell on La Carlotta, they learned differently, and when Buquet was found hanging within the theater one day, they knew it was not simply a joke. But they are still angered, they still refuse to oblige the Phantom's commands." Little Meg laughed, "It was pretty funny though, when the set fell on that stuck-up singer's head, everyone hates her, she's so filthy rotten and mean to everyone. She thinks she's better than us all. But oh if you could have heard Christine sing that night! She made everyone forget about Carlotta the moment her lovely voice rang through the auditorium."

"Maybe I could hear her sing some time" Kristen said, her eyes were closed, she thought it better to keep them shut. She had never considered music to be a substitute for the things she loved most in this world, but it would almost be like having a story told to her without even having to open her eyes to read a page. And though Opera would never fill her heart the way pages had done in the past, it would be an improvement to the empty life she was living now.

"Maybe, If my mother consents" Meg answered, then placed a hand on Kristen's shoulder before walking towards the door, "It was lovely to speak with you Kristen" Meg said, "I have to go to the performance now, I'll be back soon I hope." The young dancer opened the door, "I'll see you soon Kristen" she said, then left the room, shutting the door behind her.

"I'm all alone now" Kristen said to herself in a dark, said whisper, laying back on her bed, her eyes had remained closed. She knew this time would come, and she wasn't entirely prepared for it. She was so frightened, but on the other hand, she was rather humored by the insane anecdote little Meg had revealed to her upon her small visit. She laughed to herself, probably the first time a real smile spread across her lips,

"An Opera Ghost," she laughed to herself, "The Phantom of the Opera" she laughed some more. If I had my eyes I would write a story about him, this Phantom. She thought. The idea momentarily came to her that she should perhaps ask for a paper and a quill pen, and some ink. She couldn't see but perhaps she could still write words, even if they were horrendously sloppy, she figured if she pressed the pen to the page hard enough, she might be able to feel what she had written when the ink dried. Foolish, she thought, completely foolish. They are going to teach you Braille, That will be your writing.

She sighed. There was nothing to do. She was bored. She could faintly hear the singing of La Carlotta from somewhere beyond her door. She swung her legs over the bed and stood. She would learn her bedroom by heart if she tripped over everything she came into contact with. This determination was born from her trademark intractability. Nothing ever got in her way. Ever.

She held her hand down to the side of her bed and trailed it along until she reached the end, she walked out into the center of the room blindly, holding her hands out until she reached the wall. It seemed like forever before she realized where everything was. She had no way of knowing what time it was, but it had certainly been a few hours since she'd started this adventure of resolution.

Did I not instruct, that box five, was to remain empty?

Kristen jumped, her heart momentarily skipping a beat. What had she just heard? Never had she heard a voice like that, so loud, it filled every corner of the building, it traveled through the hallway. A voice so deep, so taxing. It was smooth as silk yet, it displayed a hint of something she couldn't put her finger on. It was so very deep, and in her unending darkness, she also heard the frightful shrieks of spectators, who were obviously attending this Opera. So perhaps these strange happenings, which Meg had referred to, really were taking place.

She sat at the vanity and just listened to the beautiful composition of Il Muto, she thought she heard something weird, La Carlotta had slipped up? She sounded just like a toad! Kristen mused. This was the woman who considered herself on a higher level than all else? Well she certainly deserved this payment of humiliation.

She listened as the entire building went quiet. Things were not so scary for her now, now that she could find her way to her window, to her bed, to the wardrobe and the vanity, and the door, without any effort at all. She had been able to hear everything, and she wondered if she would be able to hear the music without being blind. As she had noticed before, her other senses were gradually improving since her misfortune.

The role of the countess will be played by Christine Daae.

And she heard the crowds cheer. What one earth had happened? and whose voice was that which almost made her smile? It was beautiful. She wondered if it was part of the Opera itself. She had never seen a production, and never heard of Il Muto, so she wouldn't know the story line. But by the sounds of the screeching audience, it had nothing to do with the intended plot line. She would have to wait until Meg came back to her to find out what happened. The little ballerina seemed so keen on telling stories that should not be told, perhaps she would explain everything in appeasing detail.

She made her way back to her bed now, not even needing her hands to guide her as she plopped back down onto the comfortable fabric. She wanted so badly to attend a performance. She could hear Christine Daae now, the lovely young singer, in the role of the countess. Meg had not been lying about one thing, Daae had a gorgeous voice,

"Almost like an Angel" Kristen whispered to herself, yawned, and prepared her troubled mind to sleep.

Almost like an Angel indeed, Erik thought to himself, watching little mademoiselle Verlaine from a vent in the ceiling. Those rotten managers, he thought, making Carlotta the star once more, completely discarding his wishes and ignoring his threats. They deserved that mischance, now Christine was singing, and he so regretted having to miss her performance, but there was a nastier little toad he had to deal with right now, this little pest sleeping in a bed that should have been reserved for better than the likes of her.

Kristen shifted in her sleep, she was on the verge of waking before a deeper sleep claimed her, dreams monopolizing her mind. Her eyes moved within their lids, she was seeing something in her imagination, whatever it was, he didn't care.

Leave this place.
Kristen awoke immediately to this sound, she could almost feel the warmth of a breath on her skin. She sat up instantly and listened around the room for the dreadful thing that had awaken her from the first time she had ever seen something since the fire.

"Who the bloody hell is here with me" She growled, clutching at the sheets and throwing them aside, "Who dares wake me!" she cried out. "Do you know what you've done?" The dream she was dreaming had been so pleasant, so real. Glass, it was glass she dreamed of, glass of many different colors. Mostly red, but there had been green and blue as well. It was the stained glass of the church she used to frequent as a child, every Sunday morning. She held her father's hand, walking between him and her mother, giggling happily. Church was the only place she got to hear music besides the festival that came to town twice a year. She had loved singing in the choir when she was a young child, it was one of the only social functions she was able to attend. She had a rather nice range for a child. But now, awake and in the dark, faced by a strange voice, no louder than a whisper.

"WHO ARE YOU!" She blared, "PRESENT YOURSELF!"

The woman was mad, Erik thought. He had never seen a lady start in such a way. Sleeping so peacefully, and she really had been sleeping serenely, then burst out in a fit of fiery rage, before she knew to whom she was speaking. She was foolish, but he remained in shadow, refusing to oblige her command. He would not show himself to the likes of her. He simply wanted to be rid of her before she got too involved with the Opera. And the last thing he needed was Christine to become friends with yet another little theater roach. She didn't need more persuasion. His Angel of music would be his forever, in less time than a week. With a swish of his cape, he was gone.

Kristen frowned. She heard that cape, she heard the fabric move so gracefully, and the footsteps that followed behind them. She was being watched, and she knew it.

Ok, I'm gonna thank anyone who read this far into my story, you're great! please let me know whether you like it so far or not, any comments are good comments, every little bit helps.