I'm merely a ballet rat. Nothing compared to his angel. Only once has he even glanced at me. At rehearsal, when we were dancing, I saw a flash of white and a pair of amber eyes glinting in the dark rafters. He had eyes for her, though. And her alone. I stumbled, and those amber jewels flickered to me. I must have turned the color of the velvet curtains. Imagine, the only time he looked at me, and it was when I stumbled.

Tonight, we are to perform his opera. I heard the Vicomte talking with Monsieurs Andre and Firman. This is to be a charade using his angel, Miss Daae, to lure him to the police. I do not let my friends see, but tonight as I dress, I cry. I cry for my secret angel, my secret dream. Surly the police will show no mercy, nor will the Vicomte.

The toes of my point shoes fly as me and some of the other ballerinas dance. Tonight, I dance with my heart. My fear for my angel carries my shoes, whirling dervishly across the stage. A guffaw from Don Juan signals his exit, and ours. I stay though, meekly sitting on a stair. No one notices me when she steps on the stage. Her angelic voice hypnotizes the audience.

She sits and begins toying with a rose. Don Juan's voice rings from the back of the stage. Not the voice of Senor Pianggi. Oh, it is my angel! My beautiful angel! His black cloak swirls around him, engulfing him in darkness. The melodic ring of his glorious voice seems to take hold of my soul. And break my heart. He sings for her, not me. Never for me. Their voices blend seductively, the notes mingling.

I see him slip a ring on her finger. A ring pledging his love for her. And she tears the black mask from his face, revealing a mass of deformed flesh. My hand raises to cover my mouth. I don't scream. Only a gasp escapes my mouth. The horrified shrieks of women and the angry yells of men fill the enormous room. I can see the heartbreak in my angel's eyes. Those beautiful amber eyes. She stares mournfully back.

A cry of anguish escapes his perfect lips. A flash of a silver blade, and they are falling through the floor. A cracking sound comes from the ceiling. The chandelier above our heads starts to fall, threatening to crush us. In one swift motion, I dash off stage. I'm running, running faster that I ever thought I could. Down the hall, and stopping at the door of Christine's room. I run though and pause in front of the mirror. I place my hands on it and push. The cool glass beneath my hands shifts a bit.

After what seem like forever, the mirror moves another inch. That seems to be the pace. Forever and an inch. Finally, the glass slides to the side to reveal a dark stone tunnel. Dimming candles light the walls. Still running, I go through the tunnel. There is a brighter light at the end. As I near the light, I can smell my angel's sweet scent. It fills my mind, and I think of nothing else. I arrive just in time to see the Vicomte flee with HER. This confuses me. My angel would have hung the Vicomte before he let him near Miss Daae. Something is wrong! What if my angel is hurt? I hurry, now dashing towards his lair. I can now hear soft weeping. I step though a door and I see my angel. He is hunched over, clothing soaked. Rough sobs rack his perfect body. I place my hand cautiously on his back. He whirls around, amber eyes red and puffy, but still blazing. He snarls, asking who I am, why I have disturbed him. His hand reaches for a nearby noose of coarse rope. I almost squeak in protest. He raises one dark eyebrow in amusement. I hurriedly explain why I am here. Midway, I cannot help myself and I reach up and run my hand along his scarred cheek. He flinches away, eyes angry. I lower my own eyes meekly. I am such a fool! He still loves his angel, not me. My blue eyes flickered back up to his beautiful face. The words seem to tumble out of my mouth. How I love him, and how I wish I was Miss Daae. How my heart had fluttered that time he glanced at me. There is a long silence. I turn, embarrassed, and begin to leave. Hands roughly grab my waist, spinning me back around. Lips crash roughly against mine in a hard kiss. It hurts terribly, but I realize it is my angel that is kissing me! His arms tighten around my middle, one traveling up my back. His nails dig into my skin painfully. It feels like I am in hell….but it is so…lovely.