First off, I don't own Phantom of the Opera, I only wish I did…(and naturally, characters might be ooc at some point, terribly sorry, just send me a message complaining if that happens and I'll try to fix it.

Secondly, my fic takes place in present day, and the Phantom is immortal (there's more about that to be revealed later…much later). If you don't like that/don't agree with it/don't want to read it, well, you've been warned.

Thirdly, if I make a mistake, be it in history or contradiction with something from the movie/musical and/or book, let me know. I don't mind being told I'm wrong, that way I can fix it and not look like a huge idiot. This bit also applies to French phrases. I will be using them. In most cases, they're very common phrases, or they will be explained shortly after they are said. If it is not explained in the story, I will put a little section at the beginning to tell you what the phrase(s) means (unless it is purposefully meant to be unexplained, which will be a very rare thing).

Lastly, reviews will be much appreciated. They will encourage updates, for as long as I can manage it. (Please please please please write me reviews ppl…I really like to hear from you ppl.) I regret to say that I'm a college student, and when I'm home for summer and other breaks, I can't update as regularly (I may not be able to update at all) due to limited internet access. But I will get your messages over the summer, and will try to reply to everyone. Thank you so much, now on to the story.

It was almost two o'clock now. Lenore had stayed up, not wanting to set her alarm clock and risk someone hearing it. Creeping out of her room, Lenore padded down the hall in her bare feet, silently cursing herself for not putting on slippers. Her pajama pants were thin, and she shivered slightly as she made her way backstage. Lenore seemed to be there first, though she couldn't be sure he wasn't present. It was so dark; she trembled worriedly, wondering what exactly it was he was up to.

"You should have put on a robe."

"I'm fine," Lenore assured him. Naturally the Phantom did not believe her. She felt his cloak being slipped around her shoulders.

"If you don't take proper care of yourself, you will fall ill, and then who would run the Opera House?"

"Rosalyn and Ember would," she replied. "They're my co-managers, after all."

"I will not tolerate them."

"Look, they're co-managing with me, end of story."

"This is still my Opera House, child, and it will run according to my wishes."

"No," Lenore said firmly, hidden courage coming to the surface. "It's my Opera House now, and if I want Rosalyn and Ember to help me, then I have every right to hire them as co-managers."

"Have it your way; they will be dead within a day."

"Don't you dare!" Lenore hissed, glaring into the shadows. "You'll only end up hurting yourself that way. I don't know the first thing about running an Opera House. Rosalyn took business classes and has her master's degree in Theatre. Without her, I wouldn't know what operas to perform. And Ember can help me hire a good dance instructor and dance pupils. I need them. Without them, I can't run this place, and if I can't run this place, you don't get paid." Damnit, I just had to mention his salary again, didn't I?

"Why are you so stubborn?" the Phantom snarled.

"Why are you so vexatious?" Lenore shot back. "You do something nice, and then you counter it by being cruel. You help bring in the boxes and talk to me, and then steal my clothes, slam me into a wall, and threaten to take my life. You give me a dress and then say you'll kill my friend and my sister if they help manage."

"They are poor companions; they isolate you from the group."

"No they don't," Lenore whispered uncertainly. "They're my friends."

"Since when do friends criticize each other so brutally?"

"It wasn't them, it was me. I just felt like being more introverted for a few minutes, that's all," she insisted, even though she knew what he said was true. How can you see me better than the people who are closest to me?

"Do not lie to me, Lenore."

She sighed and pulled his cloak tighter about her frame. "It doesn't matter, okay? You don't have to be friends to be business partners," she snapped.

"I will not have them in my Opera House," he hissed at her.

"My Opera House," she shouted, stomping her foot. It was a childish reaction, but she didn't particularly care about looking mature at the moment. She was slammed into the wall a few feet behind her, the Phantom's body pressed up against hers. Fear mixed with lust flowed through Lenore. His close proximity intoxicated her, and she suddenly found breathing to be a difficult chore requiring intense concentration. She would be able to see him now, but did she dare look up? The answer was a solid 'no'.

"You would do well to remember who truly owns this Opera House, child," the Phantom growled.

"According to law, that would be me," Lenore replied meekly, her courage gone and her voice wavering.

"Lenore?" Rosalyn's voice called softly through the dark. "Are you back here?"

Lenore froze. She could respond and most likely get Rosalyn killed by the Phantom, or she could stay quiet and wait for Rosalyn to leave. The Phantom quickly wrapped her tightly in his arms, picked her up, and took off, speeding silently through the Opera House. A few seconds later, he was entering her room.

The door reopened a mere moment after he had closed it. "Lenore, where were you? You had Rosalyn and me in a panic," Ember demanded. She inhaled sharply as she saw her sister held hostage, cold steel pressed against Lenore's neck.

"Speak of this to anyone, Mademoiselle, and your sister's life will pay the price," the Phantom informed Ember.

"I won't speak a word," Ember promised.

He released Lenore and disappeared into the shadows. Ember clicked on the lights, but the Opera Ghost was nowhere to be found. Lenore sat on the edge of her bed, waiting for Ember's reaction.

"How long have you known he's here?" Ember finally asked.

"Since the first night," Lenore answered.

"And you didn't mention anything to anyone…Are you trying to get yourself killed or something?"

"He's never put a knife to my throat before," Lenore said defensively. "He did threaten to hang me and cut out my tongue, but other than that…I mean, we haven't had dinner together or anything, but I think we might have a special connection. We met, I screamed, he demanded money…all the classic beginnings of a romance."

"Don't joke about this," Ember reprimanded. "How much money does he want?"

"Fifty thousand U.S. dollars a month, and first payment's due tomorrow."

"Fifty thousand? There's no way we've got that…unless we all sell a kidney or something," Ember sighed, running a hand through her hair. "What are we gonna tell Rosalyn? She's still looking for you."

"Why were you guys looking for me anyway?" Lenore inquired.

"Rosalyn thought she heard something, and she came to ask me if I heard it too, which I did. So we decided to ask you, and you weren't in your bed."

"Rosalyn was looking for me backstage…where he had asked me to meet him. She almost caught us."

"Caught? Is there something going on that I should be aware of?"

"I didn't mean it like that. Though the situation did look rather suspicious."

"What were you doing with him backstage in the middle of the night that isn't what I think it is, but still looked suspicious?"

"He was threatening me again. He slammed me into a wall, and pinned me there with his body…so, definitely looked suspicious, though it's not what it looked like. We'll tell Rosalyn I was in the kitchen having a glass of milk."

"You're lucky I managed to talk Rosalyn out of searching the kitchen for you. I told her I'd check it, though I know you never eat or drink anything in the middle of the night. So, I found you having a glass of milk. And the noise we heard was you dropping the cup in the dark," Ember decided.

How could I be so careless as to let that girl catch me in Lenore's room? The Phantom cursed silently as he returned to his lair. This complicated things. That girl, Ember, would most certainly get in the way. He knew he could bully Lenore into anything he wished, and if bullying didn't work with the girl, he could always play on her foolish lust for him. Ember, on the other hand, possessed a ridiculous stubbornness that would not let her give in under most circumstances.

I left my cloak on the girl…it seems I get more careless by the minute. I shall have to retrieve it tomorrow along with my salary.

"She was getting a glass of milk and dropped the cup. Now come on, let's go back to bed," Lenore heard Ember telling Rosalyn outside her door.

"I heard something backstage," Rosalyn insisted.

"It must have been your imagination."

"Can I just talk to her for a minute?"

"No, she's trying to get some sleep, and you should be too. Bed, now!" Ember ordered.

"Fine, I'll just wait till morning," Rosalyn grumbled.

Lenore let out a sigh of relief and prepared to lie down in her bed. Wait a second; I'm still wearing his cloak. He'll want this back…but I'm not allowed underground, I can't give it back to him until I see him next. Who knows when that'll be? I'll just have to hide it, I suppose.

She woke up the next morning at eleven o'clock. Damn, I should've been up three hours ago. Lenore rolled out of her bed and placed her glasses on her face, then turned and made the bed, the Phantom's cloak hidden beneath her blankets. She proceeded to dress and limp down the hall to the kitchen; her ankles were stiffer than usual this morning. She expected her friends would be waiting for her, sitting around the table and talking. Please don't let them have wandered off into the underground. That would just ruin my day…probably ruin my life too…

The kitchen was empty, and Lenore began to worry. She grabbed a donut and started searching through the hallways. She finally found them, hard at work cleaning the ballet dormitories and the laundry room right next to the dorms.

"Morning, sleepyhead," Lily chirped, seeing her friend standing in the door, munching on a donut.

"Yes, it is morning," Lenore agreed. "Sorry, I had problems sleeping last night."

"Is that why you were out of bed shortly after two?" Rosalyn inquired, giving Lenore a suspicious stare.

"Yeah, I went to the kitchen to have a glass of milk. Sorry I disturbed you when I dropped that glass," Lenore lied. I can't believe I'm lying to one of my closest friends.

Rosalyn shook her head worriedly and went back to what she'd been doing. As soon as Lenore finished her breakfast, she joined them, and by mid-afternoon they had finished their work for the day.

"Now what are we gonna do?" Kathleen wondered aloud.

"Well…we could go shopping," Lily said hopefully.

"Not shopping," Brad groaned. "You're going to make me poor, woman."

"Well at least I'll have fine Paris fashions so we don't look poor," Lily giggled.

Hours later, the group returned to the Opera House after a lengthy shopping experience. (Lily had insisted on trying on every piece of clothing that might fit her.) Purses considerably lighter, the girls giggled and discussed their purchases.

"I'm so proud you didn't buy a single baggy shirt," Lily praised Lenore.

"You dragged me away from that rack, remember?" Lenore retorted.

"I would never," Lily said with mock indignation.

"Yeah, you'd never…do it more than once," Lenore muttered before laughing.

"Well, it didn't hurt you to try on that Gucci dress, now did it?"

"That thing was see-through in almost all the wrong places!" Lenore reminded her friend. "And don't tell me that's the style today, cuz if it is, then I'm going to wear baggy clothes until this trend dies."

"Well, what about that Chanel outfit?"

"Too tight, and too expensive," Lenore replied.

"You could've bought it, I know you've got the money," Jamie broke in.

"I don't splurge…at least, I don't splurge that much. Did you see the price of the skirt alone? I could buy ten skirts at Wal-Mart for the same price, and get more for my money. Besides, I'm happy with the perfume I got."

"It's peach, you hate peaches," Ember argued.

"Correction: I hate eating peaches. Smelling like peaches is nice; I like the scent, just not the taste."

Everyone crowded into Lenore's room that night, much to her chagrin. Lily insisted that Lenore turn on her laptop and have music going in the background while they talked. Lenore didn't pay any attention to the conversation, just listened to her music.

"Lenore?" Jamie said, snapping her fingers in front of Lenore's face.

"What? I was paying attention," Lenore lied.

"Well then, what do you think?" Kathleen inquired.

"Alright, I wasn't paying attention. What do I think about what?"

"About what the Phantom might be like if he really existed," Kathleen said.

"Oh. Well, he's definitely mysterious. You'll never get a good look at him, no matter how hard you try. And he'll confound you something awful. He'll make you angry, afraid, and confused, all at the same time. You can never sort out the feelings, either. These feelings overwhelm you, just sorta slam into you like a wrecking ball. You can't breathe, you can't think, you can't do anything but feel. When he threatens you, you're afraid, yes, but also excited. Somehow it's alluring, seductive. Inside, you're drowning in your lust, but on the outside, you're all aquiver with fear. And you realize you want to see him, want to know he's watching you. You want to hear him speak, even if it would cost you your ears. You just can't stand silence once you've heard him speak, once you know that mesmerizing voice is close by and will not give your ears the privilege, and pleasure, of hearing it," Lenore responded truthfully. She didn't even stop to think about how she worded things, didn't worry about insinuating that he was there in the Opera House, didn't worry that he was listening.

"Wow, I really like your idea," Kathleen sighed. "Don't stop."

"I have to. There's so much more to say, and yet at the same time, there's nothing else that can be said," Lenore informed Kathleen.

"You put a lot of thought into that," Rosalyn commented.

"That's why she didn't answer right away," Jamie concluded. "She was busy scripting that up in her head."

"No way," Ember argued. "That was pure improvisation. Everything she said was genuine, on-the-spot theories." They continued to argue over whether or not Lenore thought it up on the spot or actually thought it out extensively before replying, until Lenore started to sing with her music:

One day I looked up and there you were
Like a simple question looking for an answer
Now I am a whale listening to some inner call
Swimming blindly to throw myself upon your shores
But what if I don't find you when I have landed
Would you leave me here to die on your shores stranded?
I think I know why the dog howls at the moon.
I think I know why the dog howls at the moon.

I say:
"Dela! Dela! Ngiyadela!
When I am with you!
Dela! Sondela lover! Sondela.
I burn for you!

I've been waiting for you all my life -- waiting for a miracle
I've been waiting day and night, day and night.

I've been waiting for you all my life -- waiting for redemption
I've been waiting day and night,

I burn for you

A blind bird sings inside the cage that is my heart
And the image of your face comes to me when I'm alone in the dark
If I could give a shape to this ache that I have for you
If I could find the voice that says the words that capture you
I think I know, I think I know

I think I know, I think I know
I think I know why the dog howls at the moon.

I think I know why the dog howls at the moon.

I say:
"Dela! Dela! Ngiyadela!
When I am with you!
Dela! Sondela lover! Sondela.
I burn for you

I've been waiting for you all my life -- waiting for a miracle
I've been waiting day and night, day and night.

I've been waiting my life -- waiting for redemption

I've been waiting day and night
I burn for you!

"What was all that about?" Jamie inquired.

"She's met a boy," Lily guessed. "Some cute Paris boy who wooed her with French phrases and a large bank account."

"Well, definitely a Parisian, though I'm not sure about the wooing part," Ember said softly.

"Do you know something we don't?" Kathleen asked, a mischievous glint in her eye.

"Maybe, maybe not."

"Let's see if we can't get it out of her!" Kathleen declared, picking up a pillow with Lily right behind her. Jamie was right on their heels, beating anyone she could reach with her pillow. Within moments, the only one not involved in the pillow fight was Lenore, who was desperately trying to keep from being hit. The war followed her to the bed. Squealing and squirming around, the girls and Brad began to make a horrible mess of Lenore's neatly-made bed.

Lenore, laughing along with everyone else, started pushing people off the bed, one by one. Jamie was the last person on the bed, and grabbed onto Lenore as she was evicted from the bed. Lenore came crashing down on top of her, realizing that the way she'd kicked the covers as she fell would reveal the Phantom's cloak hidden in her bed.

The moment Jamie hit the floor, the room was plunged into darkness. "A power outage?" Kathleen wondered aloud. "Who would've thought that Paris would have power outages?"

"Maybe a fuse blew," Rosalyn suggested. "Let's go find the fuse box and check it out."

"Fuse boxes are usually in the basement. Lenore, where's the basement from here?" Brad asked.

"Um, I don't really know. I doubt we blew a fuse; I mean, let's not jump to conclusions. We should call the power company first, see if there really is an outage…" Lenore trailed off lamely. She knew no one would believe a power outage in Paris. She bit her lip nervously, still laying on top of Jamie. "OW! Who just stepped on my hand?" she yelped.

"Wasn't me," came the voices of her friends.

"Certainly wasn't me," Jamie added.

Lenore and Jamie stood up as everyone's eyes began to adjust to the darkness. "We really should go check your fuse box," Brad insisted.

"Yeah, we should," Rosalyn agreed. "If something's wrong with the fuse box, we need to know now and get it fixed before we start performing."

Brad whipped out a keychain from his pocket, and turned on the little flashlight attached to it. "Lenore, you'd better come with me, I don't know my way around well enough. The rest of you should just wait here," Brad said, trying to take charge of the situation.

"I'm coming," Rosalyn piped up. "I need to learn the layout too."

"Then I ought to go too," Ember decided.

"You're only going to be working with the dancers, all you need to know is how to get to the ballet dormitories," Rosalyn argued.

"Well what makes you so special?" Ember inquired.

Lenore and Brad snuck out while Ember and Rosalyn got into a heated debate about who should go along with them and why. "So, uh, fuse box…" Lenore stammered as they crept through the dark halls. Shadows seemed to be amplified by the small amount of light Brad's little flashlight provided.

"Do you have any idea where it might be? Perhaps something a bit more specific than just 'the cellar'," Brad chuckled.

"Umm…no, not really…" Lenore replied, trembling. She hated to leave all her friends alone, at the mercy of the Phantom. Brad was even more at risk, because he was the only one with her, and while Brad was strong, she didn't think he'd be any match for the Opera Ghost. Maybe he wanted to get me away from my friends to kill them, or maybe he intended to get me alone with someone, so he could kill one person off as an example…or maybe he wanted me to come out to fix the problem by myself so he could talk with me…

"I think I saw some stairs leading down this way," Brad mused, heading down the hallway that would take him to the stairs leading into the cellar.

"No, it's definitely not this way," Lenore lied. "I'm sure it's back the other way."

"Well, let me just check," Brad insisted.

"No, don't check, it'll waste time, let's go back the other way," Lenore pleaded, following Brad as he got closer and closer to the stairs Lenore was desperately trying to lead him away from.

"There's the stairs; honestly Lenore, you don't know the layout very well, do you?" Brad said lightly. "Aren't you glad we didn't go the other way now?"

"Not really," she muttered so low that he didn't catch it. "Brad, let's just go back to the others, please. I don't think we should go down there. It's really dark, and all we've got is that little light. What if your batteries die? We'd be lost down there, Beaumont said there's a plethora of passageways in the cellar; we'll get lost and starve to death."

"Come on, Lenore, don't be chicken. There's nothing to be afraid of," Brad said soothingly, taking her hand. He gently but firmly began tugging her down the stairs after him.

"No, Brad, we have to turn back. Please Brad, I don't want to die, we have to go back!" Lenore begged. "Let go, Brad! Please, please. Don't…we can't… Please…. please…"

"What's got you so scared?" Brad inquired worriedly, still pulling her behind him down the stairs. "This isn't like you, Lenore. Are you afraid we'll see a ghost or something?"

"Yes, to be quite frank, I am afraid we'll see a ghost, now please let's go back!" Lenore said, close to tears now. By the time they had reached the bottom of the stairs, she truly was crying. Tears streamed down her cheeks and anything she said was in-comprehensible.

"What died down here?" Brad mumbled, referring to the stench.

They ventured on about eighty feet into the dark underground, when Brad's light suddenly came upon the remains of Ellen, hanging from the ceiling. Brad dropped Lenore's hand, staring in sheer shock at the corpse before him. Lenore's vision was beginning to go dark and she could feel herself falling. She heard a grunt of pain and saw Brad hit the floor in front of her just before her vision went entirely black and she fell unconscious.

A minute later, she returned to consciousness, lying on the cold floor on her stomach. Her hands were bound behind her back and her ankles were in the process of being bound as well. "Did I not tell you to keep your friends out of the underground?" the Phantom hissed in the darkness.

"I tried, I really did, he wouldn't listen to me," Lenore defended herself. "Ah, that hurt!" Lenore cried as he tightened the link rope between Lenore's wrists and ankles.

"It's supposed to," the Phantom replied harshly. "I can't have you getting loose; the more it hurts you, the less likely you are to escape."

"Brad…what did you do to Brad?" she asked, realizing that if she was still alive, perhaps the Phantom would also spare her friend.

"He's not dead, just unconscious…I would kill him, if I even suspected for a moment that his pathetic excuse for a wife would survive being a widow. As it seems she would not, he gets to live, regrettably."

"How can you talk like that? He's my friend!" Lenore said, outraged that he could so casually destroy the lives of her friends without any sign of remorse. She saw him move around in front of her, picking up and turning off Brad's little flashlight. She heard a few more noises and realized he had lifted Brad and was about to go off somewhere with her unconscious friend. "Where are you going?"

"I'll leave him where he can be found; don't fret your pretty little head over him," the Phantom said.

"You're gonna leave me alone in the dark?"

"Not alone, Mademoiselle. Ellen's here to keep you company."

She heard his footsteps retreating, and when she was sure he was out of earshot, she voiced her thoughts. "You're sick! A rotting corpse is not company," she whispered, tears threatening to fall. What are you going to do to me? If you were going to kill me, you'd have done it by now…wouldn't you? You're obviously not going to let me go…God, I'm in some deep $hit. She didn't bother to struggle; she wasn't going to be able to wriggle out of her bonds and, because he had hogtied her, she couldn't really inch her way towards the stairs. Rather than hurt herself in a futile attempt at escape, she just lay there, waiting for him to come back.

Lenore had only ever felt so helpless one other time in her life. There had only been one other instance where she couldn't move, couldn't escape what seemed to be impending doom. She had been saved that time, but she seriously doubted there was any one who could come and save her now, with the exception of God. When soft footfalls announced the Phantom's return, Lenore was torn between being terrified at her helplessness or overjoyed that she would soon be released from her pain and fear, be it because he cut her bonds or because he killed her.

The Opera Ghost loosed the link rope, giving the muscles pulled taut a chance to relax before he cut the rope and began undoing the knots securing her ankles. When her extremities were freed of the ropes, she was dragged to her feet.

"Is your hand alright?"

"Well, their a little numb from the ropes…" Lenore admitted, wondering why he was wasting time asking such a stupid question.

"The one I stepped on in your room; how is it?"

"You're the one who stepped on me?" she grumbled. "I guess it's fine, a bit sore, but I'll live."

"I didn't want to step on you, but it was either your hand or your friend's face. I assumed you'd prefer not have your friend hurt."

"What were you doing in my room with my friends there anyway?"

"Retrieving my cloak before it could be seen."

"Did you cut the power?"

"Bright girl, aren't you?" he replied sarcastically.

A scowl settled itself on Lenore's face as he took her upper arm and dragged her through the dark labyrinthine underground.