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Description
Erik

Her voice was beautiful, like an angel sent from God. I had been making my round of the catwalks, making sure all the riggings were secure and properly labeled; with this team of stage hands there was always a piece of work left forgotten, when I had secured the rope for a particularly large piece of backdrop, thinking I'd need to send a letter to my manager her voice faded into the opera, floating around me in a swirl of soft high notes. For a moment I stood transfixed,wondering if I had fallen from the catwalk while fixing the rope and gone to heaven. For a moment I felt my heart life with peace, peace! The thing that had been denied me the day my mother gifted me my first mask.

"Chromaggia, come take these eyes... !
I would rather be blind!"

The note reached high and fell as she denounced her sight as though it had betrayed her in the worst fashion. I half stepped to the side as the final notes faded to capture a glimpse of this earth bound angel. She held her hands in front of her eyes to simulate blindness as she stood downstage center in the oddest dress I had ever seen.

"Brava, brava, bravissima." I caught myself praising her and clapped my hands together. As my voice reached her ears her eyes snapped open and she turned, searching for who spoke. I was able to see her face at last in detail instead of guess. Her skin was dark, like the chocolate Antoinette used to give him to calm his nightmares. Her waist length dark brown hair swung in waves as her head looked from side to side.

"Hello? Is someone there?" She called to the emptiness of the opera house. Only the manager, Madam Giry, a few cleaners and myself stayed in today, most were enjoying the day off. Knowing only she would hear me I responded.

"I am here." Confusion clouded her features. Though she was not fair like my Christine her beauty was equal. She could not be from Africa, those who were brought here were darker, their hair curlier and their foreheads high.

"Who are you." she called back, trying to sound as brave as she could. Not ready to reveal myself as the Phantom of the Opera I decided I would be the Angel of Music to her as well.

"I am the Angel of Music, I have heard you sing and I am quite impressed. I would love to help you further develop your voice." Shock and disbelief played over her face before it turned into the mask of composure.

"Very funny Ramin but I'm not falling for that." She called back as if I had made a poor joke and she was too smart to believe it. Ramin? I had never heard the name. Surely there had been no new hired hands without my knowing?
"I know not of who you speak, I am the Angel that watches over the singers with true talent and you have it."  Pretending to be an angel had worked on Christine, though this girl didn't seem to believe me.

"Well thank you but I just don't see..." She stopped abruptly and looked around as if seeing the opera for the first time. Again shock made her eyes go wide as her lips fought to form words. "Why do I hear horses? And carts?" I looked down at her confused.

"That's the standard way of getting to where people need to go." How could she not know? Everyone who had ever walked down the street knew that horses and carts were constantly moving over  the cobblestone. Defiance was the next emotion I was graced with.

"Okay, I'm not buying that. Who rides horses and carts while we have cars in 2011 besides the Amish?" Amish? What was that? This girl was acting stranger than the clothing she was wearing or the bag she was carrying. 2011? Was she sick? Or crazy?

"What are you talking about? It's 1871." She seemed to stagger for a moment as the impact of my words hit her.

"No. No way am I believing you." Her voice came strong and defiant as her face as she turned and ran for the door. Under the tone of defiance came a slight edge of hysteria. I grabbed a hanging rope and slid to the floor, deciding to go after her. I silently followed her out of the opera hall and watched her glide down the staircase, opening the front door to look out. I hid behind a statue in the entrance hall. She slowly closed the door with the an unreadable expression on her face.

"Are you quite alright?" I projected my voice so she wouldn't be able to tell where it was coming from. Again her lips couldn't form words. Suddenly she closed her eyes and slipped into a faint. I rushed over to catch her and picked her up. I was going to have to turn her over to Madame Giry if I didn't want to blow my cover.

I quickly made my way over to Antoinette's office where I knew she'd be working on the choreography to the new production of Faust. I threw the girl over my shoulder and opened the door. Antoinette was sitting at her desk with a pen and the script in front of her. When I opened the door she looked up. Upon seeing me with an unconscious woman in my arms she jumped up and ran over to me.

"What happened? Who is she?" I knew she suspected I had something to do with her being unconscious but she kept silent about it.

"I don't know who she is or how she got here. I was on the catwalks checking on the ropes and sets when I heard her singing on the stage. I thought she might be a replacement for that insufferable Carlotta but when I looked down I knew there was something strange about her. I decided to talk to her. When she asked who I was I told her I was the Angel of Music though she didn't seem to believe me. She said it was 2011 and ran to the door when I told her it was 1871.  When she looked out she fainted so I brought her to you. I can't take her to my home if I wish to teach her to sing, I need her trust." I lay her down on the bed in the corner of Antoinette's office which she kept incase of late nights and turned to go. "When she wakes up tell her you found her and brought her here." I turned to leave, missing the warmth of another against me.

"What are you planning for her Erik?" Antoinette whispered as I left the room. Let her think what she may, I thought, I will have this girl's voice.

________________________________________________________________

It had been over two hours since I had brought the girl to Madame Giry, she must be awake by now. I pulled on my cloak and walked from my home to the upstairs world. I worked my way through the secret tunnels that lead to Madame Giry's office, just as I looked through the hole in the molding to see if the girl was up I heard a breathless shriek.  Frantically I pressed my eye to the hole to see this girl staggering away from Giry in her underclothes like her life depended on it. I looked away from the room so she could finish dressing.

"Why in God's name do you people put up with these medieval torture devices? I can't even breathe, much less sing!" I heard her taking a few gasping breaths. "Pretty soon my ribs are going to be all deformed and puncture my lungs!" Such drama. I could almost laugh, I had thought he'd been in real danger.

"It is not as bad as you are making it out to be, every woman in this era has a corset on." Giry shook her head. When I looked around I saw that the girl had on a drab brown dress fitted around her body with tight long sleeves and a white apron, I guessed that she would be part of the cleaning staff. It was a  shame she could not have something nicer to wear, maybe once she saved her money. She made her way out of the room and I decided to drop in on Antoinette and see what I had missed.

"Madame Giry tell me what is happening to this girl."

"Her name is Danielle, she doesn't have any family or a place to go, so Monsieur Lefèvre
agreed for her could say here and clean box 5." I smiled. She had guts to say the least. "She isn't from here, not by a long shot. You remember, I trust, when you said you suddenly heard her voice on the stage?" I nodded. "She has come here from the future."

"Impossible." Time travel was so farfetched I was surprised that Madame Giry fell for it. "She must be sick."

"Erik, think! She said that she was from 2011, she appeared out of nowhere, she-she had proof, Erik. She took my photo with a strange looking camera only the size of my hand! She islost and must be scared, try not to frighten her." I nodded.

"Where is she going now?"

"Back to where you found her, I think she's trying to get home." I got back into the passage and walked to the catwalks above the stage. When I arrived she had started on another song. Again her eyes were closed. I let myself relax and listen to her new song. Now she wasn't using her opera singing voice it seemed deep and rich, the lyrics gave it the feel of a love song, the promise of forgiveness. As the last notes faded out I heard a small sigh and watched her struggle to get into a sitting position in the middle of the stage, it was almost comical how she moved in her dress like there were needles in it.

"Brava, brava, bravissima." I called down to her. This time she didn't jump up and look around but by the way her head tilted I could tell she was smiling.

"Is it the Angel of Music come back to haunt me?" She didn't know how fitting that description was.

"Have you  calmed down some?"

"Yeah, turns out I time traveled. But you can't really blame me for freaking out after you said I was talking to an angel. The only time I expected to speak to angels was when I was going to die." I had little doubt left that she was simply crazy. That only left the question of how she got here.

"Have you considered my offer?" I don't know why I felt such a need to train her voice but I felt I needed to; maybe she could get small parts in upcoming productions, maybe she could get the leads; God knows Carlotta needed getting rid of.

"It'd be my honor." Triumph ran through my veins.

"Come to the chapel tomorrow night for your first lesson." I walked off the catwalks before she could reply, deciding to prepare for our first lesson.
______________________________________________________
Danielle

Christine and Meg brought me to the ballerina dormitories and Helped me set up a bed with fresh sheets. I hid my backpack underneath praying no one would be so nosy as to look through my stuff. I only thought that the only person bitchy enough to do that was La Carlotta and she didn't live there.

"I hope you'll be comfortable here, Christine and I will be just across the room if you need anything." Meg pointed to two bed against the far wall underneath a window.

"I'm sure I'll be fine." Again I had to maneuver myself into a sitting position. Meg and Christine noticed my attempt to sit on my bed and laughed.

"Why are you having such a hard time sitting down? Is there something poking you in your dress?" Christine laughed.

"No, it's this damned corset. What ass decided to make this torture method, it's frickin' tougher than Chuck Norris and Bruce Lee put together!" I clawed at the top of my dress, trying to loosen the ties.

"Who's Chuck Norris and Bruce Lee?" Meg asked. "Are they more space men?" They leaned close to me, like what what I was about to tell them was top secret.

"No, they're famous for their fighting skill. Bruce Lee was a master at martial arts, I once heard he was able to light little matches with the ends of his nunchucks. And Chuck Norris, well, let's just say you don't want to piss him off. Bad things happen." They seemed so entranced. "It's sad Bruce Lee died so early, he was only 32." I sighed and shook my head.

"The future sounds so interesting. You have to tell us all about it!" Meg nodded in agreement.

"I don't know, it might end up drastically changing the future as I know it, well, it's the future for you and past for me." Okay this shit was getting complicated for me. "I guess just when 1910 comes around or even sooner if you aren't dead yet, go to Switzerland or Spain, maybe even Persia, just don't be around here, shit will go down. Very bad shit." They blushed. I started to wonder why, then I remembered that women didn't swear like me in this day and age. I'm going to have to remember that. "Sorry, probably not  used to sailor talk."

"Yes, my mother says if she ever caught us saying swears she'll skin us alive." Meg shuddered. I felt somewhat jealous. It must be nice having your mother around. "It is," Meg said.

"Did I say that out loud?" I said, surprised. Shit like that actually happened?

"Yes, what happened to your mother?"Christine put her hand on my arm. I could feel my soul shut down.

"She died when I was little." I leaned over my bed and fished a little box out from the front pocket of my backpack. "This was her." I opened it and on a little felt heart was a cutout of my mom's face. I could see their surprise as the took in the small gap in her teeth and her dreadlocks and her high forehead with skin like mine. "She gave that to me on my first day of kindergarten so I wouldn't miss her as much. That was about twelve years ago."

"I'm sorry if talking about her made you upset." Upset? It feels like my heart was ripped out, I miss her so much.

"It's okay, it happened a long time ago." Liar. Fuck off brain, you're not helping.

"Both my parents are gone too, Danielle, I know how it feels." Again Christine put her hand on my shoulder to comfort me. I knew she missed her father a lot so I did know she knew how I felt.

"My father's gone too. Mother doesn't like to talk about him much because she still misses him now as much as she did then."

"I guess we are the unlucky." I let out a little laugh. "I know about your father Christine. He was a violinist, people remember him in the future." Christine looked at me with wide eyes. Shit, should not have said that.

"Really? Oh really? If father remembered well?"

"Yeah, I can't tell you the details but people know him AND you Christine; Little Lotte let her mind wonder." She looked so happy when I recited that little bit of a story her father read to her.

I looked at the clock and realized we'd been talking for awhile, it was 7 o'clock. Time to eat.

"We must get dinner before everyone eats it." We left the room and went down the hall to the kitchen.

"Where is everyone anyway?" I asked.

"We have a few days off before we start our next performance," Meg said. Christine still looked a bit dreamy from what I'd told her. "The next play is Faust."

"I've never heard of it but I'll make sure to watch the rehearsals and come see it when it's done." We entered the kitchen where the few people still in the opera were sitting down to dinner. "When I'm done cleaning the Opera Ghosts box." The look on the others faces were priceless.
___________________________________________________________________

When dinner was over Meg, Christine and I went to get ready for bed. They tried to get me into an equally uncomfortable looking nightgown.

"No," I said slipping on an oversized Michael Jackson t shirt with a pair of shorts.

"Do you usually wear that to bed?" Meg looked at my cloths with an unsure gaze.

"I sleep naked; since I was traveling I decided to wear something to bed incase of nosey cleaning crew members." Both Meg and Christine blushed when I said I sleep naked. "I'll take that as an 'it's unacceptable'." I laughed. We said goodnight and they went to bed and fell asleep and I slipped out of the room and made my way down to the chapel, thanking God that I had remembered to ask them where it was.

"Hello?" I called softly, hoping that it wasn't just a dream.

"Come, come, we need to begin." Erik sang to me. I quickly walked to the altar and kneeled down. "I want you to listen to me and repeat the song. It is called Psyche from the play Amor Und Psyche." I smiled.

"I love that story."

"As do I. Listen carefully." His voice was hypnotic and when he finished I found I could remember all the words. "Sing for me."

"Hätte ich lebte bis jetzt
Hatte ich bis jetzt gesehen
Psyche.
Wie konnte ich so lange ohne dich gegangen
Psyche.
Ihre Augen leuchten meine Welt
Wie die Sterne von den Göttern geschmiedet
Ihre Augen wie der blaue dass nur Hermes sieht so tief in den Himmeln.
Meine Psyche.
Ich kann dich nicht lieben aus der Ferne
Ich brauche dich bei mir
Neben mir.
Sagen Sie bleiben
Psyche.
Lassen Sie mich halten dich in meine Arme
Lassen Sie mich Ihnen zeigen, den Himmel, wie Sie noch nie gesehen haben
Nicht scheuen mir jetzt meine Psyche.
Die Mutter ist so grausam
So, meine Liebe meine
Sie sollten stattdessen bestraft werden!
Meine reizende Psyche
Sagen Sie mir, zu lieben
Psyche Ich werde Sie!"

"That was beautiful. Now I need you to..." We went on for an hour repeating Psyche until he was happy with how I sang it. "You are very fast learner, you will make a fine star one day." I could hear the pride in his voice.

"They wouldn't let me sing. No matter how good I am I'm still black. They don't want anyone who was caught in the act of being black to sing their delicate notes. But thank you  Mio angelo della Musica*." I walked out of the chapel and went to get a good night's sleep.

Description
Erik

Her voice was beautiful, like an angel sent from God. I had been making my round of the catwalks, making sure all the riggings were secure and properly labeled; with this team of stage hands there was always a piece of work left forgotten, when I had secured the rope for a particularly large piece of backdrop, thinking I'd need to send a letter to my manager her voice faded into the opera, floating around me in a swirl of soft high notes. For a moment I stood transfixed,wondering if I had fallen from the catwalk while fixing the rope and gone to heaven. For a moment I felt my heart life with peace, peace! The thing that had been denied me the day my mother gifted me my first mask.

"Chromaggia, come take these eyes... !
I would rather be blind!"

The note reached high and fell as she denounced her sight as though it had betrayed her in the worst fashion. I half stepped to the side as the final notes faded to capture a glimpse of this earth bound angel. She held her hands in front of her eyes to simulate blindness as she stood downstage center in the oddest dress I had ever seen.

"Brava, brava, bravissima." I caught myself praising her and clapped my hands together. As my voice reached her ears her eyes snapped open and she turned, searching for who spoke. I was able to see her face at last in detail instead of guess. Her skin was dark, like the chocolate Antoinette used to give him to calm his nightmares. Her waist length dark brown hair swung in waves as her head looked from side to side.

"Hello? Is someone there?" She called to the emptiness of the opera house. Only the manager, Madam Giry, a few cleaners and myself stayed in today, most were enjoying the day off. Knowing only she would hear me I responded.

"I am here." Confusion clouded her features. Though she was not fair like my Christine her beauty was equal. She could not be from Africa, those who were brought here were darker, their hair curlier and their foreheads high.

"Who are you." she called back, trying to sound as brave as she could. Not ready to reveal myself as the Phantom of the Opera I decided I would be the Angel of Music to her as well.

"I am the Angel of Music, I have heard you sing and I am quite impressed. I would love to help you further develop your voice." Shock and disbelief played over her face before it turned into the mask of composure.

"Very funny Ramin but I'm not falling for that." She called back as if I had made a poor joke and she was too smart to believe it. Ramin? I had never heard the name. Surely there had been no new hired hands without my knowing?
"I know not of who you speak, I am the Angel that watches over the singers with true talent and you have it."  Pretending to be an angel had worked on Christine, though this girl didn't seem to believe me.

"Well thank you but I just don't see..." She stopped abruptly and looked around as if seeing the opera for the first time. Again shock made her eyes go wide as her lips fought to form words. "Why do I hear horses? And carts?" I looked down at her confused.

"That's the standard way of getting to where people need to go." How could she not know? Everyone who had ever walked down the street knew that horses and carts were constantly moving over  the cobblestone. Defiance was the next emotion I was graced with.

"Okay, I'm not buying that. Who rides horses and carts while we have cars in 2011 besides the Amish?" Amish? What was that? This girl was acting stranger than the clothing she was wearing or the bag she was carrying. 2011? Was she sick? Or crazy?

"What are you talking about? It's 1871." She seemed to stagger for a moment as the impact of my words hit her.

"No. No way am I believing you." Her voice came strong and defiant as her face as she turned and ran for the door. Under the tone of defiance came a slight edge of hysteria. I grabbed a hanging rope and slid to the floor, deciding to go after her. I silently followed her out of the opera hall and watched her glide down the staircase, opening the front door to look out. I hid behind a statue in the entrance hall. She slowly closed the door with the an unreadable expression on her face.

"Are you quite alright?" I projected my voice so she wouldn't be able to tell where it was coming from. Again her lips couldn't form words. Suddenly she closed her eyes and slipped into a faint. I rushed over to catch her and picked her up. I was going to have to turn her over to Madame Giry if I didn't want to blow my cover.

I quickly made my way over to Antoinette's office where I knew she'd be working on the choreography to the new production of Faust. I threw the girl over my shoulder and opened the door. Antoinette was sitting at her desk with a pen and the script in front of her. When I opened the door she looked up. Upon seeing me with an unconscious woman in my arms she jumped up and ran over to me.

"What happened? Who is she?" I knew she suspected I had something to do with her being unconscious but she kept silent about it.

"I don't know who she is or how she got here. I was on the catwalks checking on the ropes and sets when I heard her singing on the stage. I thought she might be a replacement for that insufferable Carlotta but when I looked down I knew there was something strange about her. I decided to talk to her. When she asked who I was I told her I was the Angel of Music though she didn't seem to believe me. She said it was 2011 and ran to the door when I told her it was 1871.  When she looked out she fainted so I brought her to you. I can't take her to my home if I wish to teach her to sing, I need her trust." I lay her down on the bed in the corner of Antoinette's office which she kept incase of late nights and turned to go. "When she wakes up tell her you found her and brought her here." I turned to leave, missing the warmth of another against me.

"What are you planning for her Erik?" Antoinette whispered as I left the room. Let her think what she may, I thought, I will have this girl's voice.

________________________________________________________________

It had been over two hours since I had brought the girl to Madame Giry, she must be awake by now. I pulled on my cloak and walked from my home to the upstairs world. I worked my way through the secret tunnels that lead to Madame Giry's office, just as I looked through the hole in the molding to see if the girl was up I heard a breathless shriek.  Frantically I pressed my eye to the hole to see this girl staggering away from Giry in her underclothes like her life depended on it. I looked away from the room so she could finish dressing.

"Why in God's name do you people put up with these medieval torture devices? I can't even breathe, much less sing!" I heard her taking a few gasping breaths. "Pretty soon my ribs are going to be all deformed and puncture my lungs!" Such drama. I could almost laugh, I had thought he'd been in real danger.

"It is not as bad as you are making it out to be, every woman in this era has a corset on." Giry shook her head. When I looked around I saw that the girl had on a drab brown dress fitted around her body with tight long sleeves and a white apron, I guessed that she would be part of the cleaning staff. It was a  shame she could not have something nicer to wear, maybe once she saved her money. She made her way out of the room and I decided to drop in on Antoinette and see what I had missed.

"Madame Giry tell me what is happening to this girl."

"Her name is Danielle, she doesn't have any family or a place to go, so Monsieur Lefèvre
agreed for her could say here and clean box 5." I smiled. She had guts to say the least. "She isn't from here, not by a long shot. You remember, I trust, when you said you suddenly heard her voice on the stage?" I nodded. "She has come here from the future."

"Impossible." Time travel was so farfetched I was surprised that Madame Giry fell for it. "She must be sick."

"Erik, think! She said that she was from 2011, she appeared out of nowhere, she-she had proof, Erik. She took my photo with a strange looking camera only the size of my hand! She islost and must be scared, try not to frighten her." I nodded.

"Where is she going now?"

"Back to where you found her, I think she's trying to get home." I got back into the passage and walked to the catwalks above the stage. When I arrived she had started on another song. Again her eyes were closed. I let myself relax and listen to her new song. Now she wasn't using her opera singing voice it seemed deep and rich, the lyrics gave it the feel of a love song, the promise of forgiveness. As the last notes faded out I heard a small sigh and watched her struggle to get into a sitting position in the middle of the stage, it was almost comical how she moved in her dress like there were needles in it.

"Brava, brava, bravissima." I called down to her. This time she didn't jump up and look around but by the way her head tilted I could tell she was smiling.

"Is it the Angel of Music come back to haunt me?" She didn't know how fitting that description was.

"Have you  calmed down some?"

"Yeah, turns out I time traveled. But you can't really blame me for freaking out after you said I was talking to an angel. The only time I expected to speak to angels was when I was going to die." I had little doubt left that she was simply crazy. That only left the question of how she got here.

"Have you considered my offer?" I don't know why I felt such a need to train her voice but I felt I needed to; maybe she could get small parts in upcoming productions, maybe she could get the leads; God knows Carlotta needed getting rid of.

"It'd be my honor." Triumph ran through my veins.

"Come to the chapel tomorrow night for your first lesson." I walked off the catwalks before she could reply, deciding to prepare for our first lesson.
______________________________________________________
Danielle

Christine and Meg brought me to the ballerina dormitories and Helped me set up a bed with fresh sheets. I hid my backpack underneath praying no one would be so nosy as to look through my stuff. I only thought that the only person bitchy enough to do that was La Carlotta and she didn't live there.

"I hope you'll be comfortable here, Christine and I will be just across the room if you need anything." Meg pointed to two bed against the far wall underneath a window.

"I'm sure I'll be fine." Again I had to maneuver myself into a sitting position. Meg and Christine noticed my attempt to sit on my bed and laughed.

"Why are you having such a hard time sitting down? Is there something poking you in your dress?" Christine laughed.

"No, it's this damned corset. What ass decided to make this torture method, it's frickin' tougher than Chuck Norris and Bruce Lee put together!" I clawed at the top of my dress, trying to loosen the ties.

"Who's Chuck Norris and Bruce Lee?" Meg asked. "Are they more space men?" They leaned close to me, like what what I was about to tell them was top secret.

"No, they're famous for their fighting skill. Bruce Lee was a master at martial arts, I once heard he was able to light little matches with the ends of his nunchucks. And Chuck Norris, well, let's just say you don't want to piss him off. Bad things happen." They seemed so entranced. "It's sad Bruce Lee died so early, he was only 32." I sighed and shook my head.

"The future sounds so interesting. You have to tell us all about it!" Meg nodded in agreement.

"I don't know, it might end up drastically changing the future as I know it, well, it's the future for you and past for me." Okay this shit was getting complicated for me. "I guess just when 1910 comes around or even sooner if you aren't dead yet, go to Switzerland or Spain, maybe even Persia, just don't be around here, shit will go down. Very bad shit." They blushed. I started to wonder why, then I remembered that women didn't swear like me in this day and age. I'm going to have to remember that. "Sorry, probably not  used to sailor talk."

"Yes, my mother says if she ever caught us saying swears she'll skin us alive." Meg shuddered. I felt somewhat jealous. It must be nice having your mother around. "It is," Meg said.

"Did I say that out loud?" I said, surprised. Shit like that actually happened?

"Yes, what happened to your mother?"Christine put her hand on my arm. I could feel my soul shut down.

"She died when I was little." I leaned over my bed and fished a little box out from the front pocket of my backpack. "This was her." I opened it and on a little felt heart was a cutout of my mom's face. I could see their surprise as the took in the small gap in her teeth and her dreadlocks and her high forehead with skin like mine. "She gave that to me on my first day of kindergarten so I wouldn't miss her as much. That was about twelve years ago."

"I'm sorry if talking about her made you upset." Upset? It feels like my heart was ripped out, I miss her so much.

"It's okay, it happened a long time ago." Liar. Fuck off brain, you're not helping.

"Both my parents are gone too, Danielle, I know how it feels." Again Christine put her hand on my shoulder to comfort me. I knew she missed her father a lot so I did know she knew how I felt.

"My father's gone too. Mother doesn't like to talk about him much because she still misses him now as much as she did then."

"I guess we are the unlucky." I let out a little laugh. "I know about your father Christine. He was a violinist, people remember him in the future." Christine looked at me with wide eyes. Shit, should not have said that.

"Really? Oh really? If father remembered well?"

"Yeah, I can't tell you the details but people know him AND you Christine; Little Lotte let her mind wonder." She looked so happy when I recited that little bit of a story her father read to her.

I looked at the clock and realized we'd been talking for awhile, it was 7 o'clock. Time to eat.

"We must get dinner before everyone eats it." We left the room and went down the hall to the kitchen.

"Where is everyone anyway?" I asked.

"We have a few days off before we start our next performance," Meg said. Christine still looked a bit dreamy from what I'd told her. "The next play is Faust."

"I've never heard of it but I'll make sure to watch the rehearsals and come see it when it's done." We entered the kitchen where the few people still in the opera were sitting down to dinner. "When I'm done cleaning the Opera Ghosts box." The look on the others faces were priceless.
___________________________________________________________________

When dinner was over Meg, Christine and I went to get ready for bed. They tried to get me into an equally uncomfortable looking nightgown.

"No," I said slipping on an oversized Michael Jackson t shirt with a pair of shorts.

"Do you usually wear that to bed?" Meg looked at my cloths with an unsure gaze.

"I sleep naked; since I was traveling I decided to wear something to bed incase of nosey cleaning crew members." Both Meg and Christine blushed when I said I sleep naked. "I'll take that as an 'it's unacceptable'." I laughed. We said goodnight and they went to bed and fell asleep and I slipped out of the room and made my way down to the chapel, thanking God that I had remembered to ask them where it was.

"Hello?" I called softly, hoping that it wasn't just a dream.

"Come, come, we need to begin." Erik sang to me. I quickly walked to the altar and kneeled down. "I want you to listen to me and repeat the song. It is called Psyche from the play Amor Und Psyche." I smiled.

"I love that story."

"As do I. Listen carefully." His voice was hypnotic and when he finished I found I could remember all the words. "Sing for me."

"Hätte ich lebte bis jetzt
Hatte ich bis jetzt gesehen
Psyche.
Wie konnte ich so lange ohne dich gegangen
Psyche.
Ihre Augen leuchten meine Welt
Wie die Sterne von den Göttern geschmiedet
Ihre Augen wie der blaue dass nur Hermes sieht so tief in den Himmeln.
Meine Psyche.
Ich kann dich nicht lieben aus der Ferne
Ich brauche dich bei mir
Neben mir.
Sagen Sie bleiben
Psyche.
Lassen Sie mich halten dich in meine Arme
Lassen Sie mich Ihnen zeigen, den Himmel, wie Sie noch nie gesehen haben
Nicht scheuen mir jetzt meine Psyche.
Die Mutter ist so grausam
So, meine Liebe meine
Sie sollten stattdessen bestraft werden!
Meine reizende Psyche
Sagen Sie mir, zu lieben
Psyche Ich werde Sie!"

"That was beautiful. Now I need you to..." We went on for an hour repeating Psyche until he was happy with how I sang it. "You are very fast learner, you will make a fine star one day." I could hear the pride in his voice.

"They wouldn't let me sing. No matter how good I am I'm still black. They don't want anyone who was caught in the act of being black to sing their delicate notes. But thank you  Mio angelo della Musica*." I walked out of the chapel and went to get a good night's sleep.