Cath flopped onto her bed, took a look out her small apartment window, and turned on her phone. "So," she texted Mari, "thanks for standing me up yesterday. I can only guess what kept you...or should I say 'who kept you'?"

Mari replied, "I'm so sorry! Right as I was leaving, Jeremy came to talk to me. One thing led to another, and he took me out to dinner. I completely forgot about our coffee date."

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Anyway, I found out that Caleb didn't write that note," Catherine texted back.

"Wait, seriously? Then who did?" Mariah questioned.

"I think we might actually have an Opera Ghost."

"Or maybe just that creep outside the stage door," Mari texted after retyping at least four times.

"The I.T. guy is not a creep, Mariah. He's actually really nice," Catherine defended. "Can you be at my apartment in ten minutes?"

"Maybe I have plans."

"Haha. Good one. I'll see you in ten."

Mariah hadn't been talking about the I.T. guy. She couldn't care less about the tech crew. There had been an incident, some freak in a mask trying to get in through the stage door. She called security, of course, but the culprit got away.

As Mariah dressed into her crop top and blue jeans, she received a text message from an unknown number. It read:

"Don't tell Miss Daei about the events at the stage door. Should my request be ignored, misfortune may come your way."

Mari shuddered. Maybe it was a good thing that Cath misunderstood her text message.

After walking a couple of blocks, she finally arrived at the apartment complex where her friend lived.

Catherine opened the door with a cheery smile. "Hello, Mari."

"What are you so chipper about?" Mariah asked with a laugh.

"I have my very own Opera Ghost," Catherine stated as if it were obvious. "I have an Erik!"

"It's just one note," Mari mumbled, fixing her scarf. "You should forget it."

In truth, she was beginning to wonder if the masked man had been coming out of the theater and locking the door behind him, rather than attempting to force his entry. It didn't matter either way. The whole business felt terribly wrong for reasons Mariah couldn't quite place.

"Two notes," Catherine corrected.

"What?" Mari asked in astonishment.

"I received another this morning," Cath explained, handing her friend the note.

Mari read the contents of the note. Her face slowly fell ghostly white as she held the note back to Catherine. "This was in your apartment?" She asked in concern.

"Yeah. It was on the pillow next to me when I woke up," Cath replied nonchalantly. "Why?"

"And that doesn't freak the life out of you?" Mari exclaimed, stopping in her tracks and looking worriedly into Catherine's eyes.

Catherine looked down and thought for a moment. She had been so wrapped up in the idea of having her own Erik, that she didn't even consider the fact that some random person, whom she didn't know, was in her apartment. Still, she wasn't frightened. She looked back at Mariah. "No," Cath replied simply.

"This," Mari said, waving the letter in front of her friend's face, "isn't normal fan mail. This isn't safe! I'm worried about you, Cathy. Can you trust me and promise me you won't meet whoever this is like they ask in the note? Promise me you'll get some help from security, or the police, or anyone!"

"That's all I ask of you," Catherine sang right before she entered a laughing fit.

Mari didn't find it amusing.

Catherine looked her friend straight in the eyes and said, "Mariah, I'm not afraid of whoever this is, but if it means that much to you, I won't go."

Mariah looked at her skeptically, but after a deep sigh, gave a small nod and said, "I wish I could be more like you, Cath, more willing to understand things from different views. It took me three years to audition for Carlotta and I still feel like I could ruin everything at any time. You ready for tonight?" Mari asked as the two walked out the door.

"Not at all. It's my second night filling in for Miss Barrymore and I'm afraid I'll mess up again. Do you know when Kate will be back?"

"I don't know. How long does food poisoning usually last?"

"I'm not sure, but weren't you the one who baked that cake?"

Mari frowned and gave Cath a shoved toward a muddy puddle. "It wasn't me! I don't love you that much...I think it was some meal the lunch chef made her, though he swears it wasn't him."

"Hey, watch it. These are new sneakers...I'm sure it was the chef. He gave me food poisoning a year ago. Remember?"

"I'm pretty sure that was because you're an idiot and love Taco Bell," Mari laughed as she produced a key to the approaching theater.

"I do not! You made me go. You insisted on tacos when I just wanted Itailian food," Catherine argued. "You're the idiot with the Taco Bell obsession."

"Let's not argue," Mari chuckled, opening the side entrance door with a creak. Her eyes scanned the hallway and rested on the fleeting figure of Jeremy as he made his way down the hall. Mariah blushed and pointed down the passage with an embarrassed smile. "Can I have a reign check? Something just came up. I think Buquet's back from the dead."

Catherine laughed. "Say no more. Go run after your boyfriend. I have to change into my costume."

"Thank you," Mariah whispered before taking off in a disheveled jog after Jeremy.

Catherine went down the hallway to her dressing room. She couldn't help but be excited for the performance to be over, for when it was, she was meeting the mysterious "Obedient Servant" who left her notes and roses. Still, Mari's warning lingered in the back of her mind: "It's not safe!"