You were a dancer in the opera, not someone to important but Your voice was wonderful and clear as day

Erik was in his usual seat in box 5 watching you and only you, no one else. He could imagine you with him, kissing and what not, it was no lie he was obsessed. He had made paintings related to you, he had written pieces that you could sing to, he had made you a star in his mind. And all he had to do now is make his move. His move to make his love, his muse, his little song bird, to own her.