Authoress: Hello lovelies! Yet another chapter, and all in the same day! I really am procrastinating!

Erik: Was that sarcasm?

Authoress: No, I have to write an eight-page essay today, and although I already have one page done, it will be a lot harder to write the remaining seven pages.

Erik: Oh...

Authoress: While I was away, I have updated my door with a new lock, so that no unwanted characters wander in. And of course, Christine is not included in that portion.

Erik: Should I do the disclaimer?

Authoress: *Nods* Go ahead. But if you mess it up, you will be punished severely.

Erik: *Gulp* Authoress does not own Phantom of the Opera, Le Miserables, or any other copyrighted material mentioned in this chapter. The only thing she owns is Amethyst Serna.

Authoress: See, now was that so bad?

Erik: I do not think so.

Authoress: Good, do that from now on and there will be no punishments. Now, enjoy the story!

Erik POV

She looked so peaceful in her sleep. Christine, lying on the boat, with her luxurious curls spread out on the pillow. She had given him her soul just hours ago, sung for him as she had never even tried. He loved her if it was possible, more than he already did when he heard those notes. Her voice was beautiful. She was beautiful.

His mind wandering, he wondered about the woman, or girl, who had appeared last night. He still did not know her name. He would have to ask it of her the next time he saw her.

What has happened to her? he thought. Will she get the stage crew job that would allow her to stay here, or would she leave?

He was so curious that he was going to go look for her, but before he left, he whispered a goodbye.

Amethyst POV

She woke up to Fall Out Boy blasting in her ears, and for once, she was not in the mood to hear it.

Uuuuggghhhh, she thought. What time is it? She glanced at her phone screen. 6:30! What? The alarm was supposed to wake her up half an hour ago!

"Jesus," she grumbled. What happened in my sleep that was so important? What did I dream about that had to keep me asleep? Then she remembered.

"Oh." A blush crept up on her cheeks. It was a good thing none of the ballerinas were awake, otherwise, they would have seen her in her sweaty, smelly, modern clothing, and God knows she didn't need more questions than she already had.

Madame Giry had left her new clothes folded neatly on the chest that Amethyst had put her backpack in the night before. She quickly dressed, and quietly slipped out of the ballet dormitories. She followed the signs, thankful that her school had forced her to take French, and ended up on the stage. She roamed the gigantic pier, looking at the velvet seats and boxes. Amethyst closed her eyes, and imagined a crowd of aristocrats in front of her, and started to sing.

"I dreamed a dream in times gone by

When hope was high and life worth living

I dreamed that love would never die

I dreamed that God would be forgiving

Then I was young and unafraid

And dreams were made and used and wasted

There was no ransom to be paid

No song unsung, no wine untasted

But the tigers come at night

With their voices soft as thunder

As they tear your hope apart

As they turn your dream to shame

He slept a summer by my side

He filled my days with endless wonder

He took my childhood in his stride

But he was gone when autumn came

And still I dream he'll come to me

That we will live the years together

But there are dreams that cannot be

And there are storms we cannot weather

I had a dream my life would be

So different from this hell I'm living

So different now from what it seemed

Now life has killed the dream

I dreamed."

She sang with emotion, more than she ever had, and felt with Fantine, who had loved blindly. By the end, there were genuine tears rolling down her cheeks, and she curled up and started crying uncontrollably.

Like me, I thought bitterly. But, at least, my childhood wasn't taken. She managed to get her crying under control, wiped the tears off her face, and gained her composition once more.

That moment, she remembered a way into this world: Madame Giry. she checked her phone, it was 7:30. She found her way back to the dormitories, only to find the room in total disarray.

The girls, who were rushing to get ready, were a whirlwind of makeup, dresses, and hair products. I called out to Madame Giry, and thankful to see a familiar face, I sighed in relief.

"Thank God!" she exclaimed. "I was looking everywhere for you! It looked as if you were kidnapped!" Then she started fussing over me, just like a mother would.

"What happened to your hair?"

"Oh," I started, "I forgot to fix it after I went to bed."

"Well, we must fix it, we can't have you showing up to your interview like this!"

"My interview?"
"Yes, an interview. Luckily for you, there is an open space on the stage crew, and while a woman usually does not do such work, you were brought here for a reason." The look in her eyes ended the discussion, and she quickly ushered me into her room. I stood in front of the mirror and looked down at all the products.

I barely had time to say, "Dear God…" before she started whirling around my face with brushes and powders, lipsticks and gel, to fix me for the interview.

It felt like a lifetime before she stepped back to admire her work: My hair was in a simple but practical bun, my makeup was simple and went for a subtly highlighted look, and my lipstick was light crimson. "Whoa," I said. " I look…"

"Stunning," Mame. Giry supplied. "Now, here are some clothes that I think proper for the interview. Hopefully, you will be able to get the job, and you will get housing and food as part of your pay." The, she started looking around muttering, "Where are the papers?"

"Madame Giry?", I asked.

"Yes," she replied, stopping her work to answer my questions.

"Will I ever see Erik again?" She smiled at me as if I was a child, young and naive.

"That depends on you, child. If you want to see him again, then you must contact him. Now, go change and hurry off, or you'll be late!"

As I stepped out of the room and into the bathroom, I was already thinking about what I would write to him, about what to say to catch his attention...and his love.

Erik: (0)_0

Authoress: What? You look like you have just seen the face of Satan himself.

Erik: (0)_0

Authoress: Hello? Earth to Phantom? Earth to Erik?

Erik: (0)_0

Authoress: Okay, then. He is too shocked to speak. While he is recuperating, I will ask you to favorite, follow, comment, and review, because they are confidence boosters!