1 month later 

It had been a month of hiding from Henri, right underneath his nose, and every day during practices, performances, and even in the room of my dormitory, I would always be anticipating my uncle to recognize me, never having a moment of comfort. But thanks to the help of a haircut and makeup I was able to conceal myself, becoming one with the opera.

I grew fond of the Opera Populaire, getting used to the grueling rehearsals, Madame Giry not leaving any room for mistakes, even for those who may have not as much experience as the rest. My poor feet were blistered and throbbed like no other, but despite that I found myself enjoying it, loving the relationships I had developed with the other dancers and even performing on the stage in front of thousands. Along with the knowledge that with every passing day, I would be closer to getting a train ticket and getting back to my parents.

I even got used to the rumors of there being a supposed opera ghost, where at least once a week one of the girls would come running, eyes wide with fear as they claimed they had seen the Phantom himself. With a description of a creature having sunken eyes, skin as yellow as parchment.

The rumors were odd, to say the least at times.

I didn't believe it in the slightest, I think people get bored sometimes at the opera house so they let their imaginations run wild. Though there have been times when I had thought to believe them especially when I had the feeling of being watched or of someone else's presence being with me when I am alone, but I ignored it, I had bigger things to worry about than some phantom.

Rehearsals were, yet again, a chaotic experience everyone knowing that it was the last one before the opening night of the play Faust tomorrow night. Everything had to be perfectly performed otherwise it would mean disaster for tomorrow. 

 Dancing across the stage I could see, sitting in the seats, my Uncle, observing us with a smile that I could feel an involuntarily shiver go up my spine at the sight as I did I accidentally stepped on Carlotta's dress, who gave me an annoyed stare, stopping her singing for a moment to snap.

"Watch the dress!"

I only nodded my head apologetically as I sang.

I needed to focus, I had to do my best to ignore Henri's presence, throwing myself into the music and focusing on the movements and most of all not messing up, that was the last thing I needed. 

As we were almost done with practice, I could see a look of annoyance and irritation spreading across the diva's face as she shrieked.

"Stop, stop the music!"

At her order the music abruptly stopped, and so did everyone else, someone ran into me from behind and I looked down to see Little Jammes.

"Sorry," She whispered.

"It's not your fault," I said as I glanced over at the Spanish diva, wondering what could possibly be wrong.

"What is it, Madame?" Monsieur Reyer said as he rubbed his face.

"All I do in this opera is dance, that's all I do, no singing, I want a singing role!"

I had no idea what she was complaining about, all she did was sing, she was the primadonna for a reason, you couldn't just get that from dancing.

"Madame, I-"

"Monsieur Reyer, I don't mean to interrupt but isn't there an aria in Act 3 that Miss Carlotta could sing, if of course that would satisfy you, Madame?" My Uncle interrupted as he appeared beside the director.

Carlotta smiled flirtatiously as she flipped her hair over her shoulders.

"Oui, that would satisfy me greatly, Manager."

Henri smiled at her and I felt like keeling over and throwing up on the stage.

"Very well, Monsieur Reyer, let Carlotta sing the aria from Act 3." 

The Director sighed as he turned around to the Maestro.

"Very well, if you would turn to Act 3 and play the aria," He turned back, looking over at Carlotta, who was smiling in victory. "Whenever the diva is ready."

"I am ready now."

The music started and she began to sing. 

I grimaced at the sound and I could see others doing the same. It wasn't that her voice was awful it was just because it was so out of place for the song, her voice was way too high for it. The song needed a more gentle, softer touch, something that the Spanish Diva couldn't provide.

I could see one of the backdrops above swinging slightly, and as I stared above into the fly loft I could see a shadowy figure, as soon as I noticed the figure the prop came crashing down.

Everyone screamed as we backed out of the way, unfortunately for Carlotta the backdrop fell on top of her, knocking her to the ground.

As Carlotta screamed her complaints the prop was quickly lifted off of her.

"Must've been that idiot, Joseph Buquet, he should be fired," Henri said as he helped the diva to her feet.

At the corner of my eye, I noticed a figure peeking from behind the curtain, staring up at the fly loft with a shake of his head. 

I recognized him as the Persian.

I had often seen him around the theatre, I wasn't quite sure what his job was here, but he must have one for the amount of times I had seen him. He mostly kept to himself, seeming to be an observer, watching everything and everyone, at times I would even see him talking to Madame Giry. He was mysterious and secretive, but no one had any issues with him, there would be occasional rumors, but they never lasted long enough for anyone to remember them, always replaced by the latest witness who had seen the ghost.

And yet he always seemed to be there when something did happen.

"I can assure you, sir, it wasn't me, it must've been a ghost!" Joseph Buquet yelled down from above.

At the mention of ghosts, everyone started whispering around me and I looked over at Christine, wanting to give her a look of disbelief thinking that she wouldn't believe it either, but she only had the same amount of fear and nervousness as the rest of them.

"Dear God, I believe this joke has gone on long enough, no Phantom or ghost is haunting the Opera Populaire!" My uncle exclaimed in exasperation.

Just as he said this a sandbag fell from above, missing him by inches.

Everyone gasped and I felt Little Jammes hold my hand tightly as I saw a moment of fear, for an instant cross my uncle's face before quickly composing himself.

"I believe the Opera Ghost doesn't appreciate being disrespected, Monsieur." Madame Giry said as she approached him, a small envelope clutched in her hands where I noticed a stamp of a red skull on it.

"And before you say anything, I have a note from him."

He frowned as he snatched the envelope out of her hands.

"You people sure know how to keep a joke going." He said with a sharp breath as he tore open the envelope.

Henri read the note and his face began to grow increasingly irritated as his eyes scanned the page, and once he was finished he crumpled it up.

"Madame Giry, it is clear to me that you all take me for a fool, I don't believe in ghosts, let alone one that haunts an opera house."

She shook her head.

"Then you are a fool."
----------------------------------------

I sat at the edge of my bed, massaging my feet from practice, still getting used to the long hours of rehearsals.

All the other girls were giggling and talking in loud tones, I usually would join the conversation, but I was far too tired and distracted at the moment.

I kept on thinking about the events that had happened at rehearsals, witnessing one of the props falling on top of Carlotta, which could be easily blamed on Joseph Buquet, even though he claimed he wasn't there it wouldn't be out of character for him to lie. That incident could easily be blamed on him, but a second incident, it didn't make much sense that he would do it again, especially towards the manager, which I for one was slightly disappointed when it didn't hit him and of course, there was the shadow I saw.

Was there really a Phantom or were these just coincidences?

I shook my head of the thoughts as Christine entered the room, having been told to stay behind after rehearsals. 

There was an excited expression on her face as she approached me, sitting beside me a wide smile spreading.

"You wouldn't believe what just happened."

"What happened?" I asked as I returned the smile.

"Well, Carlotta refused to sing because of what happened, and Madame Giry suggested that I sing the part and I got it!" She exclaimed, holding my hands tightly as she did.

"You mean you get to play Margarite, that's wonderful, Christine!" I said, genuinely proud that she got an opportunity like this.

She smiled softly as her eyes looked down at her hands.

"Oui, my angel told me that I would get my chance."

I raised an eyebrow in confusion.

"Angel?"

Christine looked around at the other dancers, who were laughing and talking among themselves, as if not wanting them to hear.

She took my hands again as she stood, making me stand with her.

"Follow me."

I followed her out of the dormitories, back down the stairs, and towards the chapel, only speaking when the door closed shut, echoing in the empty space.

"Christine?" 

She looked around herself as she fiddled with her fingers, biting the bottom of her lip as her eyes landed on me and she took a deep breath.

"My Father once spoke of an angel, I used to dream he'd appear and when I sing, I can sense him and I know he's here."

As she spoke I couldn't help but look around myself, feeling the temperature begin to drop in the room.

"Here in this room, he calls me softly, somewhere inside, hiding, somehow I know he's always with me, he is the unseen genius."

Her eyes grew soft as she spoke and I could see a small smile appearing.

I didn't know what to think of this, was she trying to say that an angel was her teacher? That would be impossible.

"Christine you must've been dreaming, stories like this can't possibly come true, I mean you're talking in riddles."

"I know it doesn't make any sense, but I know I've been visited by my Angel Of Music, you don't have to believe me but I am telling the truth, he's the one who's been teaching me."

I wanted to believe her, from the month that I have known her I never knew her to make up stories or lie and as she stared at me with her soft gray eyes I knew that she truly was telling the truth. No matter how impossible it was, but what was even more impossible was for Christine to lie to me about such a thing. My brain still tried to convince me otherwise, but I knew it to be true.

"I believe you, if you truly think your Father sent the Angel Of Music to you, then I have no reason to tell you that he didn't."

Christine smiled again, seeming to take a deep breath of relief.

"You have no idea how good it feels to hear that."

"You've done so much for me, the least I could do is trust you," I told her with a shrug.

"I'm so glad it's been working out so well, Susanna, your Uncle hasn't noticed a thing, you'll be back home with your family in no time!" She exclaimed in a whisper.

I sighed as I thought of the money that I had saved up, it wasn't nearly enough to get a ticket out of here and a part of me even thought that it never would be.

"I hope it will be, I miss them so much."

"It will be, everything will work out in the end, it always does."

I nodded my head, hoping that what she said was true, but a part of me told me that it wasn't.