In the last ten years, the only constant has been him. The Phantom. Erik. Mr. Y… Whatever the name, it was the same man. The man you had grown to love.

In America, you, Meg and Madame Giry, helped him earn enough for his Coney Island sideshow to progress into the famous attraction it was. And because of him, you and Meg headlined every night, five performances daily. Each!

While you love the stage, he’s become one of the only reasons you preform. You sing only for him.

Opening night had gone well. The girls had sworn you were beautiful, and Madame Giry swore that despite the crowd, He had been watching. You know Christine is on the forefront of his mind often, but you couldn’t help but hope that he would finally know all that you did and sacrificed for him…

You’re winding down for the night, helping out by putting away your things, when you feel another presence in the room change. Your heart soars when you turn and see Him there, holding a bouquet, his mask not dimming his smile. “Brava, brava, bravisima!”