costume balls were something of a routine amongst the super wealthy, especially during halloween.

to grayson it was just another saturday- attend, shake some hands, smile at a few people, go home.

to you, it was a dream. a once in a lifetime event. an event only someone like grayson hawthorne would attend.

and he had invited you.

he’d disappeared sometime when you were getting ready. finally done and ready to leave, you found him in the grand music room, moonlight casting through the window.

he sat at the piano, back to you. his hands danced over the keys, the melody almost haunting in the wide room.

when he turned you saw the alabaster half mask resting on his face, black cape resting on the piano bench beside him.

ah, that was the tune. the phantom of the opera.