What Gray encountered upon entering the opera house was unlike anything he had ever imagined. He had expected to find nothing but dust and debris in the cold, empty auditorium, given that the building had been unoccupied for years. To his astonishment, he discovered that much of the interior had been sealed off. A concrete wall, adorned with graffiti, now stood where the grand entrance once was. Almost everything had been cleared away, save for a few broken spotlights and a dilapidated organ, remnants of a bygone era, that lay neglected in a corner.

"Is this some kind of joke?" Gray wondered.

He ran his hand along the cold surface of the wall, searching for any sign of an opening. It seemed impenetrable, offering no way to access the opera house beyond. Confusion washed over him—how could anyone possibly inhabit a place with no apparent entrance? Yet, a nagging thought lingered in Gray's mind. Because he was the type of person who didn't like to take things for granted.

"There's something here." He told himself.

He ran his hand over the wall countless times, searching for a hidden mechanism, the kind often found in old houses or fictional tales. He knocked on the concrete and even attempted to scratch the surface, but nothing revealed itself. Undeterred, he shifted his focus to the floor, then turned to the corner where the broken spotlights and an old organ stood. Perhaps a key was concealed there. While he found no key, he was pleasantly surprised to discover that the organ still functioned.

As he absentmindedly ran his fingers over the keys, his gaze drifted to the graffiti on the wall, pondering whether some of this grotesque artwork concealed a hidden message. Vibrant splashes of color mingled with scrawled protests, offensive slurs, and even a few obscene images.

"People can be such freaks." Gray thought.

What had been painted offered him nothing of interest. However, upon closer inspection, he noticed something that appeared to have been engraved into the concrete, likely with a rock hammer. It was a series of musical notes arranged in a specific order. Gray turned his gaze back to the organ.

"I wonder."

Gray wasn't a musician, but his aunt had a deep passion for playing the piano, and he had picked up a few things from her along the way—most notably, how to read music. With a sense of curiosity, he carefully pressed the keys that corresponded to the notes engraved on the wall. To his astonishment, this action triggered a hidden door that swung open from within the wall. Peering through the opening, Gray discovered a spiral staircase winding downward.

"Interesting."

Before the door could close, Gray hurried back to his car, gently lifted Juvia, and began descending the stairs while carrying her. He continued down and down until he stumbled upon a living area that surpassed anything he had ever imagined. He couldn't resist exploring the estate.

The space was adorned with luxurious wall-to-wall carpeting and featured exotic, hand-carved furnishings. One room served as both a bedroom and a study, boasting a magnificent four-poster bed, a sturdy desk, and a shelf brimming with books. Another room, designed as a dressing room, was a suite fit for a young lady. There were two separate chambers, each equipped with its own bathtub. However, the most impressive feature was undoubtedly the private theater room, which housed an extensive collection of musical instruments.

"Wow." He whispered. "A whole estate down here and no one would ever know."

"Who are you?! How the hell did you get down here?!"

Gray was startled by a gruff voice that came from behind him. He nearly jumped, but he was determined not to show fear in front of others. Yet, in the presence of this man, he might have been forgiven for his reaction. The man was a towering figure, dark-skinned, with arms like polished mahogany, fists that resembled rocks, and shoulders broader than mountains. His long, black hair flowed wildly like a mane, and his piercing eyes seemed capable of burning a hole through anyone they fixed upon. At that moment, those intense eyes were locked onto Gray as he cradled the unconscious woman in his arms.

"Now this isn't what it looks like." Gray said. "Believe me, I would never-"

"Put her down or you'll never be able to pick up anything again." The man demanded.

Gray didn't hesitate or argue. He gently laid her down on a nearby sofa.

"Let me explain." Gray said keeping his distance. "She came out of work, falling down. I think she may have been drugged or something. I was only trying to bring her home. I swear."

"You expect me to believe that?"

"Hey if you want to check me for fluids, I'll strip but I can assure you I'm clean. And so is she."

The man studied Gray intently, his gaze sweeping over him as if searching for any signs of recent misconduct. Gray appeared unmarked, lacking the usual indicators of guilt, but a practiced rapist or adulterer could easily conceal their actions. The man cautiously approached Juvia's unconscious form, noting that her clothing remained intact and there was no trace of a man's scent on her. Perhaps this individual was indeed telling the truth.

"How did you get down here?" He asked him again.

"I figured out your little combination." Gray said, looking a little smug. "And I have to say, that's pretty clever. Using music as the key. I don't think even the best detectives could figure that out."

"So how is it that you, a random bum, did?"

"Let's just say I'm experienced in hiding things and setting up things. But I'm no rapist." He said. "So are you this woman's husband?"

"You could call me her teacher, and her guardian." He said. "Thank you for bringing her back and having the decency not to take advantage of her. Now beat it."

"With pleasure." Gray said. "Goodnight to you."

Gray ascended the concealed stairway, his mind focused elsewhere, paying no heed to the events unfolding around him. Once he was gone, the dark-skinned man knelt down beside the sofa and began to gently shake Juvia awake.

"Juvia?" He said. "Honey, wake up."

Juvia stirred slightly, her eyelids fluttering open as she tried to make sense of her surroundings. The last thing she remembered was leaving work, feeling dizzy and disoriented.

"Where... where am I?" She mumbled.

"It's alright honey, you're home."

"Oh..." Juvia sat up. "Oh Gajeel...How did I get back here?"

"Some man brought you back and he swears that he didn't try anything. Is that true?"

"I don't know. I don't really remember anything after my last performance."

He carefully took hold of her face, taking note of her dazed eyes and her breath.

"Somebody slipped you something. Damn it! This is why I never wanted you to work at that cabaret! You could have been raped!"

"Was I?"

"I don't think so. You're a virgin so you would have been bleeding. But that doesn't mean it couldn't happen."

"I'll be more careful."

"That's not the point! You have no business hanging around a place like that!"

"We need the money."

"I can get the money! You know I just got that job shoveling coal!"

"Yes but it'll be weeks before they pay you, you know that."

"When are you going to stop working at that place? You know every time you leave, I spend the whole day scared to death that I'm gonna find you lying in alleyway beaten up or God forbid dead!"

Juvia let out a sigh, her heart heavy for Gajeel. Ever since the day he took her in, he had been consumed by a fear of losing her—likely stemming from the traumatic events that had unfolded in her past.

It all began when Juvia first arrived in America as a young girl. Tragically, her parents did not survive the journey; one of the immigrants on board had brought yellow fever with him, claiming the lives of many. Juvia was among the few fortunate passengers who made it through. Upon reaching the port, she found herself in a state of uncertainty, left to sit outside and wait for someone to decide her fate. It was during this time of waiting that she first heard it—Gajeel's music. That was the moment their paths crossed, and her life would never be the same.

At the age of sixteen, he played the trumpet on street corners, earning a few coins with his remarkable talent. However, as a young Black man, he often went unnoticed and unappreciated by those passing by. That was until Juvia came along, blissfully unaware of the prejudices that surrounded them. With a bright smile, she approached him, captivated by the enchanting sounds of the trumpet, having never encountered such an instrument or its music before. She eagerly asked questions, and he happily shared the wonders of jazz music with her.

Their moment of connection was abruptly shattered when an officer arrived, hurling cruel words at Gajeel and forcibly pulling Juvia away. Alarmed for her safety, Gajeel instinctively decided to follow them at a distance, fully aware that orphaned children often found themselves in grim circumstances in a world like theirs.

A wealthy master had decided to adopt her, presenting himself as a lonely man who had always longed for a family but was too consumed by his work to settle down. However, Gajeel found his act too convincing for comfort. He followed Juvia all the way to her master's house, hiding in a tree and spending the entire day watching them. As night fell, he witnessed the man looking at Juvia in a way that no man should ever look at a little girl. When the man grabbed hold of her, Gajeel burst through the window, stabbing the scoundrel in the neck with a shard of broken glass. He swiftly grabbed Juvia and fled, and she had been with him ever since.

"I'm sorry, Gajeel. I didn't mean to worry you." She said softly. "Look just give me until you have enough money from your job and I'll quit. I promise."

"Alright." He consented. "But on one condition, from now I want you to have an escort when you go home. A trusted one."

"Deal." Juvia nodded.

"Good, now let's get started on dinner. I'm starving."