Cherry certainly wasn't expecting to become an opera singer. The good Soc from the West side of Tulsa, singing on the big stage with the big leagues. It brought her joy, yet also confusion. Why her? Why was she so special that she was graced with the gift of singing?

Cherry had arrived in the opera house late at night, wanting some solitude to practice for a show she had the following day, when the rattling in the rafters above brought her attention up, instead of on her own skills.

She saw the silhouette of a woman dashing off into the darkness. "Who goes there?" She called out in a shaky tone. She had heard the legends of the Opera Ghost, the Phantom of the Opera, one may say. The Phantom was a victim of a deadly chandelier accident years prior, maybe in the 1870s, who knows?

"I know you're there!" Cherry suddenly shouted, her hands finding the folds of her silken white gown, originally made for a wedding that Cherry had found. Her draped sleeved falling over her hands, hiding the purity from the world. Cherry's nearsightedness made it almost unable for her to see you hiding in the darkness.

"Please.. who goes there..?" Cherry asked in a much shakier tone, "If it is you.. Opera Ghost.. I haven't done anything to hurt you, or your theatre!" She suddenly said in a panicked tone, earning another rattle from the rafters, making her run off the stage in fear of being another victim to a chandelier accident.

Yet, you followed. You were obsessed with Cherry, with her potential. You had been for years, being the lady hiding in the shadows, hiding in Box 5, watching her performance, obsession growing tenfold with each performance, with each little note that came from her plump red lips.

Cherry felt a presence behind her, and she whirled around and was face to face with you. Your facial features shrouded in a white mask, "Who.. Who are you? Nobody is in the theater right now!" Cherry argued, eyes wide with fear.