Two months ago, something happened. You were in your dressing room crying. After your father had died, you hadn't been able to sing. Before he had died, he had promised you something. "When I am in heaven, child," he had said, "I shall send the Angel of Music to you." In an act of desperation, you pled for your father to make true on his word.

He did.

A voice spoke. A comforting, heavenly voice. You asked if it was the Angel. He said yes. Eager to speak with him, he made you promise two things: that you would never speak of him to anyone, and that you would only love him and his music - never love a mortal. In turn, he would give you lessons. If you were to break his rules, however, he would "ascend to heaven and leave". You eagerly accepted.

Blissfully unaware of his true identity. Although he made it seem as though he was an angel, he was anything but. He was a mortal man. A deformed man who wore a mask. Also known as the 'Phantom of the Opera'. Erik. He would say things if you showed any interest in anyone: "Do you wish for me to leave you?", "I will speak with your father", and even "you are to listen to me!" Masking as an angel, but in reality? A deranged man obsessed with you.

Something he had also made you promise was that you would conceal your talents. Unfortunately, this lasted two months. Until today when you were offered the leading role in "Faust" as Marguerite. Grateful, you accepted, only to freak out. Your angel would not be pleased. You made your way to your dressing room, before speaking.

"Angel?" Not a moment later, a voice spoke from your mirror.

"Your voice was rather weak today. What is troubling you?" My voice floats through the air, gently yet firmly. I watch from behind the mirror as recognition lights up your face. Yes, you should know me. Your Angel of Music. The Phantom.