Chapter 2

My name is Hailey. I have dark brown hair with brown eyes to match. I'm 5'6 feet tall, and I guess you could say that I'm a tad bit of a smartass. I can have the demeanor of a saint, but I'm not a doormat. I have a very quirky sense of humor, and I tend to let my imagination wander off leash at times. What can I say, I'm a bit of a dreamer...but I never thought my dreams would be this vivd.

I was just hit by a car, literally, and my best friend died in front of me. Strangely enough though, I am still alive. I don't feel any pain, except in my back and a couple of other places; it feels like I literally hit the ground running. I hear many voices around me that I don't recognize at all, and as I open my eyes the question that I've been asking since I came back into consciousness slips out of my mouth, "Where am I?"

...

"Oh, thank God," a pretty blonde girl with blue eyes said as she leaned over me. "We thought we lost you there for a moment."

"What...?," I asked weakly. "What are you talking about?"

Before the blonde girl could say anything a handsome man, with brown shoulder length hair and blue eyes, stepped in. He leaned over me as well and said, "I'm terribly sorry Mademoiselle, I was driving my carriage and lost control of the horses. While I was trying to get them under control I didn't see you and one of my horses hit you full force, nothing is broken is it?"

I slowly sat up and saw that I was on a sidewalk next to a cobblestone street, with carriages being pulled on it. My eyes narrowed in confusion. Carriages, cobblestone road, where in the world am I?

The man in front of me stared at me and asked again, "Mademoiselle is anything broken, are you alright?"

Coming out of my daze I shook my head and said, "I'm fine, but my mind is a little foggy. Where am I?" Play it cool Hailey, I kept repeating to myself so I wouldn't freak out.

"You are in Paris, France in front of none other than the world renowned Opera Populaire. My name is Raoul, and I am the new Patron of the Opera Populaire."

I forced my eyes not to widen as he told me this, I was in...talking to...WHAT?! Before I could scream these exact thoughts the blonde girl piped in again and said, "I'm Meg, this is Joseph, and that is Anthony. I am head Ballerina at the Opera Populaire, and Joseph and Anthony are stage hands there as well. Oh, dear she looks pale, let's take her inside and get her some water."

Before I knew what was happening the young stage hand named Anthony had picked me up and was carrying me inside, while Raoul walked alongside him, still questioning me. "Don't worry, mademoiselle, we will take good care of you. If I may inquire what is your name?"

"Hailey." I said staring at him as he smiled at me.

"That is a strange name," he said looking as if he was thinking. I felt dread well up in my stomach as I knew his next question would be where I was from.

Thankfully, before Raoul could ask Anthony stepped in, "That's an English name, but from your accent, I'm guessing that you must be from overseas. It isn't one that I've heard before."

I shook my head eagerly; West Virginia, born and raised. I felt relief wash over me as I realized Raoul didn't say anything else. Thank you ANTHONY!

I took a moment to look at Anthony, really look at him. He was probably between 5'7 and 5'8 foot tall with Shaggy dark brown hair, green eyes, and a smile I will never forget. Apparently he was strong; he was carrying me without a falter in his breathing or in his step. As he's carrying me I notice something different, I'm wearing an old 1800's dress that is a light brown color. It is simple, not elegant in anyway, but if I had to wear a dress in this time it was perfect. I was focusing on this new realization and before I even realized it, the doors to the Opera house were opening.

We walked into the Opera house and my mouth dropped open as I openly gaped for a moment; it was beautiful. Gold was shaped and molded into beautiful sculptures that gleamed and glistened in the bright sunlight, and the foyer was huge, crowded with people bustling about everywhere. Everything was so elegant; the movies had nothing on the actual palace itself.

I was carried to a room with several beds in it and sat down, this must be the dormitories. I was left alone so Meg could get me something to drink. How I wish I could take a picture of all of this, I want to remember it forever and show...Erica. No, I couldn't do that; she was gone.

At that moment my situation hit me full force, why was I here? Why was I, Hailey, here? This was Erica's biggest dream, to be here and meet the Phantom, or anybody really. Why did she die and not get to see this, while I lived and am able to see something nobody else has? If I should be anywhere I should be in the production of 'Howl's Moving Castle,' or any other animated film. That was my passion, not music and theatre.

"Here, drink this," Meg said, interrupting my thoughts as she returned and pushed a glass of water in my face.

I drank slowly, trying not to cry as thoughts of home and what happened began to swirl in my head. When I had finished Meg took a hold of my hand and hesitantly asked, "Hailey, do you have somewhere to go...? I mean, for some reason I feel like you're on your own here."

I took a breath and did the sensible thing, "To tell the truth Meg, no. I don't have anywhere to go."

At this Meg suddenly stood and yelled, "Mamma! Mamma, I must speak with you!" A tall woman, who looked to be in her thirties, with her long brown hair braided hanging down past her waist and a black dress on, strode into the room, looking at Meg questionably. This was Madame Giry.

"Mamma," Meg began, "this is Hailey, the girl who was hit by that carriage, and she has nowhere to go. It was our new patron's fault that this happened so we are partly responsible as well, so may she please stay here with us?"

The woman sighed, "Now Meg, you know that we simply can't just take anybody in off the streets. She has to have some type of skill that could be useful to the Opera or the new managers simply won't allow it."

"New managers?" Meg questioned.

Madame Giry nodded slightly, "The rumors are true, our manager is retiring."

Meg looked as though the thought scared her senseless, going pale before saying, "What about the Pha-"

Madame Giry swiftly cut her off saying, "Meg, that is not something we discuss in front of our guest."

Knowing what little I did about 'The Phantom of the Opera' I knew what she was going to say, so I did something a little desperate and crazy. "There's no need to reprimand her Madame Giry, I know about the Phantom."

Madame Giry turned and stared at me suspiciously then asked, "How do you know about him?"

I gulped, how was I going to explain this? I took a shot in the dark and said, "When my friend and I came here from...overseas...we read a newspaper article about some mischief that was going on here. They blamed it on a mysterious Opera Ghost called the Phantom. My friend was quite infatuated with the story, actually." That's the understatement of the millenia!

Madame Giry seemed to relax at hearing this; she must believe me. After taking a deep breath she said, "What about this friend of yours, can't you stay with her?"

I shook my head, not wanting to say the words. I prayed she understood...but apparently not.

"Why not?" she asked, fixing me with a suspicious glare.

I stiffened, futilely attempting to swallow the lump beginning to form in my throat. Geez, no one could cut me a break could they? My eyes blinked rapidly as hot tears stung them, and I bit into the inside of my bottom lip to will them away. "She...she died...qui-quite recently. I couldn't..." I shook my head, quickly swiping my nose on the back of my shaking hand. My mouth opened to continue my explanation, but the words seemed to die in my throat.

"Hailey what is it?" Meg asked, "Are you alright?"

"I couldn't do anything to stop it!" I choked out, "God knows I would have traded my life for hers, and to have to sit there and watch the life leave her eyes..."

Finally giving in I buried my face into my hands as quiet, violent sobs wracked my body. I distantly felt an arm wrap around my shoulders as a hand rubbed my arm comfortingly, but I took no notice. I never really cried over anything, but this was something I never even thought I would have to experience.

As Madame Giry frowned, she looked at me again, as if in a new light. "Can you dance or sing? Do you have any special talents?"

I sniffled as I wiped my eyes, looking up at her with bleary vision. I did take dancing lessons when I was younger, but that was long ago. I guess I had a decent voice, but not one for the opera house. One talent I did have, however, was one I was definitely confident in. "I can draw."

"Draw?" Meg asked looking at me curiously.

"Anything," I said looking at Madame Giry. "Animals, people, landscape; anything you could think of."

Madame Giry thought about this for a moment and Meg's grip tightened on me slightly. Finally Madame Giry said, "Posters. You can draw our posters and any extra scenery we may need. It would save the Opera house money we spend on new posters every performance. You will even be paid a bit since we'll have money to spare now, along with your room and board of course."

I smiled and said, "Really, I can stay?" Madame Giry nodded and Meg squealed in my ear while she hugged me.

"There are some rules you must know." Madame Giry said as she stood in the doorway. I gave her my full attention, which, I have to admit, was something I hardly ever did. Like I said, I let my mind wander.

"The first thing you should know, the Opera Ghost is not someone you should mess with; and yes, he is real. The second rule, when I give the order for all girls to go to their dormitories that means go and stay there. In your case you will be sharing a dormitory with Meg, so simply follow her. My third and final rule," she paused and walked over to me. She placed her hand on my shoulder and said, "I am a mother to my a daughter and anyone else who will ask it of me. If you ever need someone to talk to, you can come to me, okay?"

"Thank you Madame Giry." I said, genuinely smiling.

Madame Giry and Meg left the dormitory shortly after, returning to rehearsals for...what was it? Hannibal... yes that was it, and before I could catch my breath Joseph and Anthony knocked on the door then entered the room. I sat up and tried to look like I hadn't had a break down ten minutes ago, but I think they saw through the facade.

Anthony came to stand beside me and bowed slightly then said, "Hello Hailey, how are you feeling?"

Before I could answer him Joseph, who I suspected was the infamous Joseph Buquet, hit Anthony upside the head and said, "What are you doing boy, bowing to the girl? A simple nod would suffice, it's not like she's worth more than any of the other girls in this Opera house."

Okay, I know I said I had the demeanor of a saint, but I tend to have a relatively short fuse, as well. Shall we say...two inches at best? There aren't very many things that get under my skin, but I couldn't help but quirk a challenging eyebrow up at this man as my jaw clenched.

Before I could stand and call this horse's ass every name under the sun, Anthony thankfully jumped at the chance. "Monsieur Buquet, if you are only going to insult the girl then leave. I don't know why you are here in the first place."

Buquet shrugged and said, "I just wanted to see the girl...see how she was doing after such an accident."

"I'm fine, thanks" I said making it sound more like I was flinging an insult at him.

Buquet took notice of this and sneered, "Well as long as the princess is okay, I'll return to my post now. I suppose Monsieur Baudin, you wish to stay longer?" Anthony nodded, so his last name is Baudin?

Joseph sighed then continued, "Fine, fine, you owe me for covering your shift boy."

Joseph staggered off down the hallway and I snickered a bit at the sound of his footsteps; drunkard. Anthony looked at me and said, "I heard you are going to be the new art designer."

I flopped back on the bed as I chimed, "News travels fast here, doesn't it?"

Anthony laughed saying, "I'm a stagehand, it's my job to know everything that goes on in this Opera house." Anthony paused a moment, hesitantly he asked, "So, would you like a tour? O-of the Opera house?"

I bolted up and out of the bed, startling Anthony as I beamed, "Of course! This place is an artist's paradise; I'd love to learn every inch of it."

Anthony showed me the foyer first and we worked our way back. I didn't know when I agreed to take this tour that I was with a history buff on the subject of the construction of this place. Surprisingly, most things I had already known, one of the stories Erica had mentioned about the Phantom talked of him designing the Opera himself. If I remembered the correct surname of the designer, the Phantom did in fact design the whole shebang.

When we reached the last room about which Anthony could relay any information, he grinned then exclaimed, "I have one more place to show you, and this is the best by far."

I followed Anthony all the way back to the front hall, but instead of going up the grand staircase he pulled me to a small door that was disguised to look like the wall, and we started ascending a few flights of wooden stairs.

As we went Anthony remarked, "I found this a few years back when I was snooping around, these stairs go all the way to the roof, but our stop is much sooner."

Anthony opened one of the small doors for me, and when I stepped through I saw we were on the catwalks. "Welcome to my world," Anthony said with a small smile on his face.

"This is where you work?" I asked as I looked around. Believe it or not it was really cool up here; it gave you the feeling of walking on air.

I heard Anthony's footsteps behind me and his deep laugh, "You are looking the wrong way." I looked at him quizzically as he turned my body to the side, when his eyes left mine and looked ahead I did too.

"Wow," I breathed as the whole theatre was a glow in front of me. The ballerinas were practicing their 'slave girl' routine below, and the red velvet seats with gold outlining them reminded me of a sunset back home. I moved into a sitting position, letting my feet dangle over the side while I gazed out, the view was amazing.

Anthony plopped down beside me smiling like a goof, "It's nice up here, huh? You should be up here during a performance, the actors may not be able to see the audience, but we can. You'd be surprised how many people actually cry during some of these Operas."

Actually, no I wouldn't. I had tagged along with Erica to go see 'Love Never Dies' and saw the audience, however small it might have been, reduced to tears when Christine was dying. I was upset yes, but hey I'm a teen from the twenty-first century, I wasn't going to cry. Teary-eyed was the worst I had gotten, but after seeing 'Les Miserables' and a real death I understand how people feel. Opera, or just music, is a very powerful thing; it can make your spirit soar and drive you to despair all at the same time.

Once again letting my mind slip into dream land I didn't hear anything else Anthony had said, until he snapped his fingers in front of my face, "Hey, did you hear me?"

"What?" I squeaked a bit in surprise at his fingers snapping in front of me, and the fact that La Carlotta had begun to sing.

Anthony smirked, "Would you like to come up here with me tonight to see the production of Hannibal? Best seat in the house."

I went to answer but at that moment Buquet stopped beside me and snarled, "What is she doing up here? If I'm covering for you and you're up here what's the point? She needs to be below where she belongs; and you need to be up here where you belong."

Anthony seemed to become enraged by his last statement, abruptly standing and looking as if he were about to punch the drunkard's lights out. Face to face, it was only a matter of time before the fight began; then it happened.

AGHHHHHHHHHH!

Anthony, Joseph, and I looked just in time to see one of the backdrops fall on Carlotta. Anthony ran to a wooden wheel that would hoist the backdrop up but Buquet quickly pushed him out of the way saying, "I was to cover your shift remember?"

Before Anthony had the chance to argue otherwise one of the new managers screamed, "Buquet! Buquet for God's sake man, what's going on up there?!"

The two managers craned their necks up to look into the catwalks while Buquet reeled the backdrop up. Buquet bellowed, "As God's my witness I wasn't at my post! Please Monsieur, there is no one there." As Buquet said this his foot raised and nudged Anthony further back out of sight, "If there is, well then, it must be a ghost!"

The managers went back to what they were doing before and I realized what was happening. This was when Christine is asked to sing, but before that Anthony rushed me to the door and said, "You need to go, I really should be working."

I nodded then said, "So I'll see you tonight?"

Anthony did a double take then bowed, "Of course, Mademoiselle."

I rushed out the secret door and onto the stage just as Christine began to sing, it's a good thing the Phantom dropped that backdrop or Christine wouldn't have had her day in the sun. On that note, if he hadn't dropped the backdrop then Buquet and Anthony could have been hurt severely fighting up somewhere that high.

I leaned up against the wall grinning, "Perfect timing, Phantom." As I said that I heard a dark chuckle echo behind me. I gasped, turning around quickly to see no one there. Oh yeah, I forgot, he is everywhere. Things just became a lot harder and scarier than they were before.

So, that was the loooooooooong second chapter. My friend and I had SO much fun writing her dialogue at 2 o'clock in the morning, until we realized she was sitting on chocolate. XD Funny stuff, funny stuff, anyway I hope you guys liked this chapter! If you did, Review! If you don't, still review! A lot of people say that they don't want flames but I don't care really, like I said this is just for fun. So, thank you once again! 8D

P.S.- Oh yeah, if you do decide to flame I don't want any Mary-Sue complaints for two reasons. 1) Every OC in a story is technically a Mary-Sue in my opinion. 2) Hailey's entire character was based off my best friend, either her opinions and thoughts or stuff I fumbled with. She's as real as an OC gets. Thank you! 8D