James stood behind one of the many statues on the opera house's roof as he waited for Charles to appear. He wasn't sure why Erik had decided to arrange a meeting between Charles and him but he was both excited and nervous. He couldn't wait to properly see Charles again after all these years but he had no idea how the boy would react to seeing him.

The door to the roof suddenly went flying open, pulling James from his thoughts. He peeked around the statue to see Charles standing there, panting in the cold winter's air. He couldn't resist a quiet chuckle. Had Charles ran up all the flight of stairs just to see him?

Charles was looking around himself wondering where the person he was suppose to meeting tonight was. "James?" He called.

"I'm here," James said slipping out from behind the statue.

Charles gave a start and whipped around to find himself staring at a boy who seemed a little older then himself.

The other was shockingly tall for his age—Charles wouldn't be surprised if he was nearly six feet—and dressed all in black expect for the mask of white cloth on his face. The curls that escaped from underneath his felt hat were as black as clothes and the eyes that locked with Charles's were a burning indigo that took his breath away.

The beautiful eyes danced with amusement and Charles had the feeling that he was smiling beneath the mask. "Hello Charles," He said. "My father told me that you wished to meet me here tonight."

"Then your James?" Charles asked.

"Yes," James said. "Why were expecting something else? Do I not live up to your daydreams of how a thing like I should look?'

"No, that's not it at all!" Charles said hurriedly. "Its just so extraordinary to finally be able to see you after all this time. And don't refer to yourself as a thing. That's not what you are."

"Oh, really?" James said, his eyebrows raising under his mask.

"Yes, really," Charles said. "You're a human bean. The same as me."

"Now I wouldn't say that," James said, "for human I maybe but the same as you I am not." He tapped his mask in a silent reminder and Charles flinched as though he had been hit. James sighed. "I'm sorry," He said softly. "This isn't how I wanted our conversation to go."

"Its alright," Charles said. "Just please don't think of yourself as anything less then human when your in my company."

James nodded to appease him and Charles smiled gratefully at him. James's breath caught in his throat and he made a mental note to make Charles smile as often as possible. He looked so beautiful when he did; it was like his whole face lit up.

"So, what do you want to talk about?" James said. "I'll answer any questions you may have for me."

Charles fidgeted nervously for a few moments before saying, "Who are you exactly? I mean how did you wind up here?"

"Ah, well that's a fairly easy question," James said. "On a cold winter's night a woman gave birth to a child that horrified her so horribly that it drove her slightly mad. She rushed out onto the street and begged the first person she found to take the child. That person just happened to be the Phantom of the Opera. He took me under his wing and raised me like any true father would."

"What about your mother?" Charles asked softly.

James shrugged dismissively. "Father told her that if he ever saw again he'd kill her," He said. "I have no memories of her and I don't care at all. I do not love her anymore then I hate her. I am indifferent to her."

Charles couldn't imagine how he could be so apathetic about what happened. The pain he envisioned feeling if his own mother were to reject him seemed unbearable. And yet James was standing here talking about it as though it was as simple as the weather.

"Not its my turn to ask some questions," James said. He eyed Charles carefully. "Am I free to ask anything?"

"Of course," Charles said with an encouraging smile.

"Very well," James said. "Do you like music? I noticed that you always seem to love the operas." "When you watch them," He added with a laugh.

Charles reddened slightly at this before nodding enthusiastically. "I love music!" He said. "I just stopped taking lessons from my voice teacher."

"Why did you stop taking lessons?" James asked.

"He said that he had nothing more to teach me," Charles said.

James remained silent for a few moments and then he stared at Charles with a renewed interest. "Let me hear you sing," He said.

Charles's eyes widened in surprise. "What?" He said.

"You said that your teacher said that he had nothing left to teach you," James said. "That either means that he succeeded in bringing your voice to perfection or you had reached the limit of his teaching. I want to see which it is, so sing."

"How would you know the difference?" Charles asked.

"I was trained since I was five years old by my father," James said, "how to sing perfectly and to pick out the areas of improvement in other people's voices. He is an excellent teacher and you should know. He's the man who taught your mother after all."

Remembering how beautiful his mother's voice was when she sang, Charles knew that he could trust in this boy's tastes.

"Fine," He said. "What do you want me to sing?"

"Whatever you want is fine," James said.

Charles nodded and took a deep breath before beginning to sing. The song he choose was from Romeo and Juliet and it had been one of the first songs that his mother had taught him. He soared through it as well as he always did and then waited anxiously for James's judgment.

"Well your voice is very good," James said. "There's no weakness in either registers and the tone is right on. But there's still places in which you could excel."

"And where are those places?" Charles demanded. It was hard for him to believe that his voice was lacking. After all his mother had been taught by the great Phantom himself and she was always praising his voice for its beauty.

"You need more life in your voice," James said. "Right now your voice is simply very pretty whereas with the right amount of energy it could become magnificent." He sighed as Charles's face fell. "I'm guessing that there's no one who can teach you?"

Charles nodded. "I thought that my training was over," He said bitterly.

James fell silent, a crazy thought raising in his mind. He had been trained into excellence by Erik and could most likely insist others with their voices. But the idea was frighteningly similar to what Erik's relationship with Christine had been. What if he and Charles came to suffer the same way they had?

Charles glanced curiously over at James. "Is something the matter?" He asked.

"No," James said. "I was just thinking that perhaps…" He trailed off shaking his head.

"Perhaps what?" Charles prompted.

James eyed Charles warily. "Well if there's no one left who can teach you," He said, "maybe I could help you."

Charles's mouth fell open. "You would do that?" He asked.

"I would," James said. "But you must be ready for a strict education. I will not accept any less then perfection from you."

"I understand," Charles said, unable to keep a smile from his face. Excitement was bubbling up inside of him. "When should we meet?"

"Any night you can get away from your parents," James said, "come here and I will show you a place where we can practice without interruption."

Charles nodded eagerly. "I'll try to get away tomorrow night," He promised.

"That would be perfect," James said. "I want to begin our lessons as soon as possible."

Charles was about to reply when footsteps were heard from behind the door to the roof and frantic talking. A second later the door shot open and the Vicomte and Vicomtess de Chagny rushed out onto the roof.

Christine rushed over to her son and threw her arms around him well Raoul crossed his arms across his chest with a frown.

"So this is where you went," He said. "Do you have any idea how worried we were? Why did you sneak away like that?"

Charles didn't answer and looked around the roof only to find that James had disappeared.

"Well, young man?" Raoul asked.

"I…I just wanted a bit of fresh air," Charles lied. "And the sky is so beautiful tonight."

Christine tightened her grip around him. "Next time warn us before disappearing," She said. "You had me so scared. I thought that…that he had taken you."

Charles stiffened in her arms. "Don't worry, Mother," He said. "The Phantom had nothing to do with it."

The air around the family tensed instantly at the mention of the man and Raoul sighed.

"We've stayed here long enough tonight," He said. "Let's go home."

Erik was waiting there for James when he brought the gondola up to the embankment of the cavern. He was taken aback slightly by James's blissful expression.

"I assume your meeting with the Chagny boy went well," He said.

James nodded and jumped out of the boat. "It was excellent," He said. "And I even got to hear him sing."

Erik's eyebrows raised slightly. "Really," He said. "I didn't know the boy could sing."

"Well we can," James said. "He's had a teacher for a very long time but his voice still needs a little bit more training."

"It's a pity then that he doesn't have anyone to teach him," Erik said. He caught sight of James's face and was struck with a sudden horror. "You didn't!"

"I did," James said. "I'm sorry, Father but I couldn't help it. He looked so miserable when I told him that his voice wasn't perfect and I knew that I could make his voice so much better."

Erik sighed and shook his head. James was becoming dangerously close to Charles and it had him worried. "I will allow this for now," He said, "but if things become too risky you are to leave the boy immediately."

"Yes, sir," James said.