It started when you heard her sing...You knew Christine was the perfect voice for your Opera...For everything. She was beautiful and kind...And when she sang heaven came down to earth...

So you began to sing to her through the walls...She thought you to be an angel sent by her late father...

Oh how you wished you could reveal yourself...Hold her, kiss her, whisper sweet things to her...But you had a reputation...You were the Phantom of the Opera. The figure lurking in the shadows, the terror of the ballerinas, the infamous opera ghost. But really you were just a man born with a disfigured half of your face hiding in the catacombs of the opera due to a favor from Madame Giry who found you as a child...

So you helped your angelic darling from the shadows...Taught her, trained her, encouraged her...and when an opportunity presented itself for the main diva Carlotta to be ran off or killed and for Christine to step up...You tried to drop a sandbag on Carlotta...

And Christine got to sing...She wasn't even the understudy but she was gloriously prepared. Her voice was perfect. She got a thousand flowers and rave reviews but only wanted the approval of her angel...So you decided tonight was the night...You stepped through the trap door in her mirror and revealed yourself to her.

Wrapped your cloak around her shoulders and led her down into your realm of candlelight and music...and although she knew you to be a phantom now...She never once even flinched.

She sits with you now in your lair amongst your music and inventions...Quietly, wonderfully looking over your music looking perfectly in place here. She catches your gaze...blushes and looks back down at your music with a smile...