Chapter 1

Serena Cartier was an innocent and naïve child, only nineteen of age, who had know little pain and hardship in her life. She grew up with her father, mother and a brother on the French countryside and her childhood was an everlasting summer of adventure and laughter. She had known some loss in my life, though; that of her uncle and grandfather, but had never experienced that heartbreaking feeling of having someone you love dearer than life itself to be taken away from you. Perhaps if she had lost a parent or sibling, she could have understood the pain that ravage the soul and leaves you longing for the arms of Death; anything to make the pain go away. But as her family was alive and well, and the countryside was a peaceful place to grow up in, she had known nothing of the sort.

It seems important to mention that she had never been in love either. She had heard about it, read about it and seen it be displayed in her parent's loving kisses, but had never felt it herself. Not until that year when her dream to become a chorus girl at the Opera Populaire came true. To sing was her passion and the chance to spend her life doing it as her profession was too good to pass up.

So there she was, standing in front of the doors to the newly-renovated Opera, eager to set her marks in those old walls. "People may forget, but the walls remember," Serena's mother used to say. "Long after the minds of men has turned cloudy with age and all the finer details are forever lost, the walls will still whisper to each other of the stories they have witnessed." For a little eight year old girl with auburn colored hair and big dark eyes, this was not hard to imagine – and still wasn't eleven years later.

The walls of the Opera Populaire spoke to Serena of passion, jealousy, tragedy and music.

A middle-aged woman with an aura of respect greeted Serena in the entrance hall. Madame Giry, she presented herself as and briskly guided her through the Opera, pointing out dressing rooms, practice rooms and dormitories as they went, making Serena all dizzy. The renovation of the Opera had been done excellent, making it close to impossible to tell new and old details apart. Serena felt pride well up inside her when thinking that this was her new home and that she was now part of something so magnificent. At long last, Madame Giry came to a halt outside a door and opened it to reveal a small room with a bed, a closet and a mirror, and proclaimed it to be her room.

"Dinner is served in two hours in the dining room I showed you earlier. Take the time until then to unpack and rest. I advice you not to go on some sort of expedition alone, Mademoiselle. Not everything is as it seems here. I shall see you in two hours." And with that, she left.

Serena spent an hour unpacking and making herself at home, but soon grew bored. Despite Madame's warning, she decided to go and have a look around. Perhaps Madame Giry had meant that not all reconstruction was done, but Serena could be careful. If she kept close to her room, surely she would be in no danger? So she went out into the corridor and took a right turn, heading through dimly lit halls and past closed doors, soon forgetting her vow to stay close to her room. She saw no one on her way and suddenly found herself at the main stage. Today's rehearsal was obviously over, for it was deserted. She just stood there in awed silence.

Before her were thousands of empty luxurious seats clad in red velvet. The big chandelier, also repaired of course, was not lit and only a few lanterns were alight here and there. She closed her eyes for a moment, imagining that she was the Prima Donna about to sing in front of a full house. She imagined the low murmur of the crowd, exclaims of delight when the light dimmed and the expectant silence before the orchestra began to play and the curtains rose. She could see all the well-dressed ladies and gentlemen's before her, with their fine costumes and expensive dresses adorned with jewelry, leaning forward in their seats as if worried to miss the slightest of details when the Opera began. And she imagined their applause and cheer after finishing her song.

A satisfied sigh escaped her and she slowly opened her eyes – only to give a startled jump and bite back a scream. Not ten feet from her, someone stood watching her in the shadows. She divined it to be a man because of his height, considering that he seemed to be about a head taller than her. He was entirely clad in black and had a long cape over his shoulders that flowed down behind him.

She forced her heart to resume its beating and breathed out with relief.

"Oh, Monsieur, you frightened me!"

"My apologies, Mademoiselle." His voice was low and mysterious, but oddly musical, and a shiver of pleasure went down her spine.

She smiled, a little embarrassed, and gestured to herself and the stage. "You must find me strange, standing all alone on the stage with my eyes closed as if dreaming," she said.

"Not at all, Mademoiselle. It is obvious that you were experiencing the memories of this room," he replied.

She considered him for a second; surprised that he had read her so easily. "Will you not let me see you, Monsieur?" She inquired, feeling his eyes bore right into her with an intensity that gave her shivers.

"Do you sing?" He asked, ignoring her question.

"Yes I do. I am the new chorus girl."

"Will you sing for me?"

She was surprised yet again. Why would he want for her to sing? Nevertheless, she complied for a reason unknown to her. It just felt right to sing for him.

"What would you like to hear?"

"Anything."

Serena smiled and took a deep breath.

Alone for a while I've been searching through the dark,

For traces of the love you left inside my lonely heart,

To weave by picking up the pieces that remains,

Melodies of life – love's lost refrain.

Our paths they did cross, though I cannot say just why.

We met, we laughed, we held on fast, and then we said goodbye.

And who'll hear the echoes of stories never told?

Let them ring out loud till they unfold.

In my dearest memories, I see you reaching out to me.

Though you're gone, I still believe that you can call out my name.

A voice from the past, joining yours and mine,

Adding up the layers of harmony.

And so it goes, on and on.

Melodies of life,

To the sky beyond the flying birds – forever and beyond.

So far and away, see the bird as it flies by,

Gliding through the shadows of the clouds up in the sky.

I've laid my memories and dreams upon those wings.

Leave them not and see what tomorrow brings.

In your dearest memories, do you remember loving me?

Was it fate that brought us close and now leaves me behind?

A voice from the past, joining yours and mine,

Adding up the layers of harmony.

And so it goes, on and on.

Melodies of life,

To the sky beyond the flying birds – forever and on.

If I should leave this lonely world behind,

Your voice will still remember our melody.

Now I know we'll carry on.

Melodies of life,

Come circling round and grow deep in our hearts

As long as we remember.

She let the last note ring for a few seconds before she stopped. The voice that had been a bit unsure of itself from the start, had grown stronger throughout the song and at the end, she had heard it reach to the very last row.

"Oh, Monsieur," she breathed. "The sound in here is perfect, just as I have dreamt it would be."

She heard a low chuckle from the shadows.

"Your voice, Mademoiselle, was perfect."

She felt a blush warm her cheeks and she averted her eyes to the floor.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"Might I inquire of your name?" He asked hesitantly, as if he both wanted to know and at the same time didn't want to know.

"My name is Serena Cartier, Monsieur."

"I trust, Serena that we will meet again."

And then he was gone. His figure disappeared from the shadows and the intensity of his gaze vanished. That she no longer felt his eyes upon her convinced her more than anything that he was truly gone, for now at least.

She stood there for a while longer, silently wondering who the man had been. With a musical voice like that, he was probably a very talented singer himself. Maybe he worked here at the Opera?

Serena heard the chimes of the clock in the distant and cringed. She was late for dinner.

Erik Destler cursed himself silently all the way down to his lair. What had made him show himself to the young woman on the stage? Had he suddenly forgotten that he was wanted for murder and that the Police Department of Paris still wanted him hanged?

No, how could he?

Erik stopped for a moment and closed his eyes to prevent the familiar feeling of pain, sadness and guilt to take a hold of him. He could still hear the terrified screams in his dreams. Maybe his mind had been clouded with madness that night three years ago, but for several weeks later he would wake up screaming from his dreams. He had no idea how many that had died in that fire he had caused by cutting down the chandelier and to tell the truth, he really didn't want to know. Even if it had only been one, it was one too many. He hadn't mourned the loss of that idiot Jacques Bouquet in particular. The fool had been so scared of coming face to face with the Phantom of the Opera that he stumbled and fell down from the catwalks tangled up in a rope and immediately broke his neck in the fall. The only guilt Erik had in that was to have scared him.

But the incident with the chandelier was another matter. One person he knew for sure to have died was the leading soprano Piangi. The man had been unconscious and tied up behind the stage – Erik's doing, of course - and had been hit with the weight of the chandelier head-on. No one would have survived that and Piangi surely didn't. Whatever grudges Erik had against the Prima Donna Carlotta for her singing voice, he had never meant to kill her love. It had been a well-known fact that Carlotta and Piangi were in a relationship but the Phantom had unwillingly put an end to that.

Just imagine that he had done all that to win Christine once and for all and in the end she had still left with that fop of a Vicomte. That was the irony of fate, to be sure. Though, fate seemed to have a lot of irony in store when it came to his life. All he had ever wanted was to have someone who truly loved him and all he ended up having was a lonely and cold lair and nightmares of poor unfortunates burnt to death in a fire he had never really meant to start in the first place. Why be surprised? He was meant to be lonely, was he not?

His thoughts lingered a few seconds on the beautiful young woman with the amazing voice from earlier, but he forced them away. That was how it had all begun the last time and he would be damned if he made the same mistake again. But a small token of his admiration, he would still leave. After all, that was the custom of the Phantom of the Opera.

Madame Giry gave Serena a look of disapproval when she dashed in through the door to the dining room. Her first day at the Opera and she still came late for the first appointment Madame Giry had told her to keep; how promising!

"Not going to me a habit, I hope?" Madame Giry said sternly

"No, Madame, I'm so sorry! I… must have fallen asleep!"

For a split second, Serena had almost told her of the mysterious man at the stage, but to tell Madame Giry would be the same as admitting she had disobeyed her order not to go walking around and she was in trouble as it were already. So instead she told a lie.

Madame's eyes softened a bit.

"Ah, well, I can understand that your journey here was tiring. Here, you can sit beside my daughter. I'm sure you'll get along fine."

She gestured to a pretty blonde girl who smiled warmly at Serena. She seemed to be nice and was of the same age, so Serena sat down beside her.

"Hello, nice to meet you. You are the new chorus girl, non? My name is Meg Giry."

Serena returned her smile.

"Nice to meet you as well. My name is Serena Cartier."

All through dinner, they talked of everything and nothing and got very well along indeed. Meg was quite talkative and very sweet and they shared several laughs over dinner. After they'd eaten, Meg went with Serena to her room to make sure she didn't get lost.

"I know it's a bit hard to find your way around here in the beginning, but I'll help you," Meg assured.

Serena thanked her and Meg promised to pick her up in the morning for rehearsals. Meg was sadly not a chorus girl, but a ballet dancer, though the practice rooms were next to each other so it really didn't matter.

Serena went into her room and immediately stopped dead. A beautiful red rose with a black silk ribbon tied around the stem rested on her pillow. She gently picked it up, inhaling the sweet smell and noticed an envelope underneath it. The note inside consisted of only one sentence: "Your voice, Serena, was perfect." She smiled when thinking of the strange man earlier and hoped he would turn out to be part of the Opera crew so that she would see more of him. She changed into her nightgown and quickly fell asleep with the rose resting against her cheek.

A/N: Opinions anyone? I know that it's pretty boring in the beginning but the story will pick up and become more interesting in a few chapters. Oh, and for all you Final Fantasy fans out there, like me, the song Serena sang in this chapter was Melodies of Life. Love you all, please R&R!