The Opera Populaire, Paris, March 1870

She was undoubtedly younger, when she first set foot on the Paris theater scene, not much younger yet, definitely not in her own way of measuring the years, but younger still, as she appeared in front of the door to the grand, beautiful building that stood before her. It was not so long before the events of our story, but back then she had no notion of the things she will be a part of as she stepped through the gate.

Back then she simply came here for an audition, to sing for the then manager, monsieur Lefevre, who was looking for some new additions into their team of singing voices. She loved to sing, after all, her own people called her a nightingale sometimes, in their own language, and she always liked when her voice was appreciated. So, as she decided to spend some time in Paris at that time anyway, seeing the notice in the papers made her intrigued, so, she made her way there, posing under a name she used a few times before.

"Miss Katrina Delaine." spoke the announcer impassively as she stepped onto the stage and her eyes skimmed over the small crowd of gathered people. It still sometimes astonished her that she could walk among these humans without them having any idea that she was in any way different, that she could, in fact, if she wanted to, be the wolf among this herd of human sheep. Not that she ever really thought about them as such, but the nature of her other, darker side, made it tempting at times.

She has never trained to be an opera singer, but her voice, which rose to the ceiling of the grand hall like a bird spreading its wings the more joy she put in her singing, has satisfied the manager enough to accept her into the chorus with the notion that with the proper training she might be assigned to even larger roles later. She was satisfied with the result and she was eager to get settled in this fascinating place that exuded its own aura of mystery even before she learned of its own resident ghost that seemingly watched and presided over everything that happened within its walls.

She had heard the legend within a few days of being a part of the theater, and at first she was, of course, ready to dismiss it as a mere legend indeed, until one day, she actually saw him.

That day she was rehearsing with her fellow singers and ballet dancers for a new musical piece the opera was preparing, along with the two girls that became her somewhat close friends, Meg Giry, the talented daughter of the theatre's ballet choreographer, and a certain young lady named Christine Daaé, whose father, a famous violinist, died a few years ago and she was left with little but her own artistic talent that allowed her to live inside the opera's confines.

She was, as everyone else, utterly focused on the music, but unlike the other girls, her keener, sharp senses did not fail to notice the little sounds that echoed through the theater hall somewhere from above them, and while she continued to sing her part, reciting it from memory, she glanced up with her eyes narrowed in curiosity. At first, she saw nothing, but as her eyes quickly adapted to the dim light up there, she thought she caught a glimpse of a figure, a man it seemed, dressed all in black and a flowing, dark cape that swished around his feet dramatically every time he moved as he stared down at the female singers.

As she followed his line of sight though, she realized that there seemed to be only one member of their company that he had his eyes for. His staring intently at Christine was probably the only reason why he didn't notice her staring at him right away. As she looked on to study him more carefully, she noticed what looked like a white mask covering the right half of his face. That's when he suddenly noticed her curious stare, his eyes snapping to meet hers for a brief moment, before he vanished from his spot with a flourish of his cape.

Since then, she realized that the legend of the phantom was more than a simple story meant to add to the reputation of the theater, often embellished with stories she was sure were quite ridiculous, and she was determined to discover more about him, to see what kind of a man needed to hide in the darkness while also hiding his own face. So, instead of going to the next rehearsal, she pretended to feel poorly and stayed in her room, before carefully sneaking into the hall, watching from her own shadowed corner as she waited for him to appear.

And sure enough, he did, and she watched in fascination as the tall man, so graceful in his movements, stepped on the elevated platform high above the stage, and stared wide-eyed at the beautiful young brunette singing below him. Then, as quietly as she could, she moved upstairs, until she stood up there, just a few steps behind the man. He didn't notice her, of course, and she didn't fault him for the small startle he made as she made her presence known gently.

"Excuse me." she spoke, her voice low and even as she kept a calm stance, leaning against the railing as he turned his head to look at her in slight shock and she gave a little nod of respectful greeting. There was a moment of quiet, as he did not react at first, and she stared at him in silent wonder. She saw the white half-mask that adorned his face now and while she thought she saw something strange beneath the edges of the material, she could not see any details that could give her any clear picture of why needed to wear it. For surely, the other side of his face was so handsome he could be a prince, and his whole visage, as he stared at her with those clear, blue eyes, even in the state of silent surprise that he currently displayed, radiated power and confidence that made her increasingly curious as to who this man actually was.

"My apologies." she continued politely after a few seconds. "I couldn't help but notice you up here the last time and as I am new here, I really wished to introduce myself." she paused for a second, before she continued. "And while I do find the view from this platform to be utterly breathtaking, I do think it would be better down there in the auditorium." she stopped and waited for him to process what she just said. Then, she chuckled a bit, for despite what might have been a serious situation, she found the slightly dumbfounded look on his face rather amusing.

"Perhaps then, it would be better if you returned there, miss." he said quietly when he finally recovered and she took a deep breath as she heard him speak, for rarely did she ever hear such a beautiful sound coming from a human before. He spoke calmly now, in a deep, melodious voice that made her want to hear him talk further and she imagined that his singing must have been something even more glorious. Why then was he hiding such a gift from the rest of the world?

She took a few steps closer, observing as he tensed slightly at her approach. "No, it's more interesting up here." she answered, flashing him a playful, friendly smile. He seemed uncomfortable with her being so close though and so she stopped and lowered her head a little. "I do not wish to bother you, monsieur, I just wished to say hello." At that, his serious expression finally broke a little and he chuckled in a lovely sound that only made her smile wider. "Then you are either very brave or very foolish, young lady. Don't you know who I am?" he added and fixed her with a stare that could have been intimidating, if not for the soft smile that made his way to his lips despite himself.

"Of course." she answered and made another bow. "Though calling you a phantom is perhaps slightly exaggerated." she paused, and then, calmly, she spoke again. "I am Katrina." she introduced herself and watched as he made a small bow of his own, putting his hand on his heart like a gentleman.

"The pleasure is all mine, young lady, and your astonishing bravery intrigues me. But I must ask you to keep this meeting a secret, lest someone considers you foolish for believing in ghosts and spectres." he said with amusement, and then, seeing that the rehearsal downstairs was over, he departed, well, just like a ghost, leaving her standing there in excited joy.

She turned after him to stare in the direction where he disappeared to and then, she moved quietly back to her dormitory. Such a lovely first encounter, she thought, though it also left her with a lot of questions. He was not afraid of her, but it was also clear that he wasn't entirely comfortable with her presence. She understood, she too was never quite confident when meeting strangers either and she surely had caught him off guard, but their civil conversation gave her hope that she might find out more about him soon.

...

In the following days, she saw him sneaking through the theater on more than one occasion, as she herself strived to discover the secrets of the ancient building. He seemed to know many secret corridors and passages that criss-crossed the walls and centuries old underground caverns beneath the opera house, so much it seemed to her like he must have lived in this building for many years, perhaps decades.

They did not meet each other very often and she did not bother him out of respect, but now that she had his scent, she was aware of his presence most of the time. And he was a presence in the theater, she found out, communicating with the staff through a series of notes that appeared at odd places and contained instructions that the manager was careful to fulfil to the letter.

In a world where most humans were so frightfully dull creatures, he sure fascinated her to no end, and so one of these days, she tried sneaking through one of his secret corridors, silent as a mouse, blending into the shadows to avoid being seen, and it was on that day that she managed to find her way into his lair, a place deep in the catacombs where he obviously spend a lot of time. It was a large space at the edge of an old lake or perhaps just a flooded corridor that once served its own purpose.

The phantom's underground sanctuary was a messy shrine to love and music, with hundreds of candles giving the place an ethereal glow, and she stared around in silent wonder, before she hurriedly looked around to find its owner.

He was there, but he did not see her, as she found him deeply asleep sitting at an old grand pipe organ. His features were seen more clearly here and she looked at him for a while as she approached quietly, seeing his face relaxed as he slept. Then, she looked at his mask, a simple white theater mask, still pressed against his face, and at that moment, sensing that she will perhaps never have another opportunity to do this so easily, she reached forward and took it off.

She was proud to say that she did not react vocally to what she saw, except perhaps for a small gasp, as she observed the mess that was the right side of the face before her, the skin swollen and distorted, lined with angry red lines, which clearly was some sort of birth defect, and she glanced at the man in front of her with sudden understanding as many ideas circled around in her head as to what his life must have been, in a society that looked down at people for much less.

Then, suddenly, he opened his eyes and the momentary flash of confusion turned to anger in a second as he jumped up, grabbed her hand, and ripped the mask from it, before he raised his own hand to strike her. Instinctively, she caught his wrist before he could hit her though and pushed him away with maybe a bit more strength than she wanted as he stumbled and fell to the ground. He looked at her with a shock written clearly on his features, for she was a petite little creature that did not seem to have the strength to resist so fiercely, and his reaction only intensified when he saw her eyes flash bright blue in colour in reaction to her own surprise, the irises narrowing for a second to resemble the eyes of a cat.

"Who… who are you?" he said, when he recovered for a bit. "What are you?" he added, his voice slightly fearful now and she sighed, raising her hands to show him that she meant no harm. "Something extraordinary… just like you." she voiced simply, meaning every word. "Let's just say that angels, in this world, have many different forms." She stepped closer then, offered him her hand, and he hesitantly accepted it, before he suddenly remembered that she was still looking at his bare face, and he pushed away from her before turning away, putting the mask back on.

As her own nerves calmed down, her eyes turning back to their shade of grey blue, she could clearly see his distress, regretting her impulsive action immediately. "I am sorry," she said apologetically. "I shouldn't have done that. But you don't have to hide from me." she spoke gently and watched as he raised his hand to stop her when she tried to come closer. "Surely now you must think I'm a phantom, a monster." he whispered, without looking at her, and she felt a strong need to console this man somehow. So, as softly as she could, she spoke:

"Oh angel, you think too low of me,

if you think that I fear you.

Oh, my friend, world is full of monsters,

but as one I don't see you."

At that, he turned his eyes to look at her, studying her face for any signs of insincerity. She gave him a reassuring smile, then took a step forward, and when he didn't react, she gently continued:

"No need to hide in the darkness.

I will not run back in fear.

I only wanted to know you,

turn your face to me…"

Her soft voice trailed off as she watched him and after a minute, he hesitantly turned his head to her fully and, moving ever so slowly, she reached up and pulled the mask off him again. Very slowly, she revealed the misshapen parts of his face and stared at them for what seemed like eternity, while he carefully observed her expressions. What he saw, to his great surprise, was compassion, but not pity, her brow slightly furrowed in concentration, but not disgust, and the smile on her face was soft and genuine, as if looking at his face truly didn't faze her at all.

After a while, she looked into his eyes and gently asked: "What is your name?" She waited patiently for him to answer and after a while he simply said: "Erik. My name is Erik."

"Erik." she repeated and it seemed to make her truly happy that he would fulfil such a simple request as giving her his name, but then he was shocked again when she uttered an unbelievable sentence: "A beautiful name for a beautiful creature." she whispered, and then, carefully, she placed a hand on his arm and gently squeezed it, before she added:

"It brings me joy to be the first one,

as I fear no one has told you.

What's on the outside does not matter,

if there's a pure heart within you."

She spoke to him earnestly, but she saw the doubt clearly written upon his features and with a deep sigh, she pulled away from him. "I pray for you to believe it one day, angel." she spoke and she was about to leave, when she heard his voice behind her.

"Why are you calling me that?" he asked and she smiled, turning back to him, seeing him once again fixing his mask in place. Because you are an angel, she thought as she looked at him. A fallen angel, right here on Earth. A lifetime of wonderful possibilities spoiled by simple imperfection, as if people didn't know that sometimes, those who lack beauty of their own create the most beautiful things instead.

She knew there was a lot of bitterness under that quiet demeanour she was witnessing now. And yet while she did feel a lot of darkness coming from this man, she also sensed the most beautiful soul hiding beneath all that anger and pain. It was making her sad, and she wondered if there ever will be a time when people like him won't be shunned by others, but none of these thoughts she conveyed to the Phantom.

"I may have spoken to Christine about you." she spoke to him instead, giving him a knowing smile while her eyes sparkled with all the good humour she could muster at that moment. "Don't worry, I did not tell her I've already met you. I got the impression she would be upset if she found out she doesn't have you all to herself." she continued, recalling the way her friend spoke about her mysterious teacher, the angel of music whose voice spoke to her from the walls and gently tugged at the strings of her heart ever since her father was gone. Only a fool would fail to realise who was the man she was talking about. "You seem to have made quite an impression on her." she remarked and her heart rejoiced when her words brought a genuine smile to his face.

"She is the angel, not me." he spoke softly and she saw droplets of tears welling up in his eyes, telling her all she needed to know. She was not surprised, she saw the way he watched her before and she knew that the poor man had fallen head over heels for the human girl. "You love her." she said needlessly and he nodded his head, barely listening to her as his mind was somewhere up there, with the young woman who had captured his heart. "Then, if I may be so bold to speak of it." she spoke slowly and waited for him to look at her and listen. "You should probably stop keeping the girl in the dark and tell her about it, before some other suitor comes along."

His only answer was a sigh of acknowledgement, but she understood how difficult it was for him to follow such an advice, sensing his fear of rejection as strongly as if it was her own. Feeling like there was nothing more to be said for now though, she gave his arm another reassuring squeeze, before she bowed to him deeply and left him to his rest and his own thoughts, her retreat through the tunnels followed by the softest, most heartfelt music she has ever heard.