It was the premiere of the Opera Populaire's new production of Chalumeau's Hannibal. This in itself held no surprise for the audience. The Opera Populaire's schedule was always fairly easy to predict, as the scheduled productions of the season repeated themselves every five to six years. The selections were curated to appeal to the majority of Paris with well received productions such as Carmen, Faust, and the beloved Ill Muto. But as the curtain rose, the audience was treated to a small shock. Expecting to watch yet another performance by Paris's resident diva, the majority of those seated were surprised to see a new star in their midst. At first the audience was less than thrilled to see the familiar face of Carlotta Guidichelli absent, but this was no matter as all thought of Signora Carlotta faded away as the new leading soprano began the aria that opened the Opera and a voice that seemed more divine than mortal washed over them.

The shadow watched Christine Daae with a gaze that burned. Tonight was everything that Erik had ever dreamt of and more. His pupil, the voice that he had cultivated and molded for the past decade was finally receiving the attention and admiration it deserved. His Angel of Music had finally made her debut. His beautiful angel.

Sitting comfortably from his customary seat in Box 5, Erik inwardly rejoiced at the thought of even greater events that would begin unfold in the coming evening. Tonight was to mark the official beginning of the plan that Erik had so carefully formulated for three years. As Act II of Hannibal came to a close and intermission began, Erik let his thoughts wander freely. Ah my love. Tonight you command all attention. Three years. The corner of Erik's mouth twitched into the hint of a smile. Has it only been so long? It seemed like a lifetime ago that Erik discovered that his feelings toward the Daae girl were beyond the affection a teacher held for his pupil. He let himself relive the day that irrevocably altered the planned course of his life.

Erik quietly walked through the labyrinth that was the Opera Populaire. It was nearly seven o'clock, his arranged time to throw off the mask of the Phantom and don the Angel of Music's. As he approached Christine's dressing room, he slowed and checked his pocket watch. There were still a good ten minutes before his appointed time for Christine's lessons. He had not even realized that he had hurried to the lesson and inwardly chucked at himself as he considered the absurdity of his unconscious actions. He, the great and feared Phantom of the Opera Populaire, waiting for a mere girl, seventeen years his junior. Of course, he was not without reasons.

Ever since he had discovered the voice behind the crying little girl in the chapel, he saw his opportunity to leave his mark on humanity, however small. Erik had long recognized that the doors to the world of light were forever barred to him, and, with it, the chance to share his creations with the world. Although he scorned humanity and was glad to be all but completely removed from the world, his soul thought otherwise. The sometimes suffocating urge to create and form forced him to spend euphoric hours that stretched into days in front of the massive organ in his home. In those hours, he birthed divine music that laid bare the human soul and gave a bit of heaven's music to the Earth. However, he knew that in a little over fifty years, Erik's music would die with him, left to rot in the damp, stagnant air of the lake house. As much as this thought pained him, there was nothing he could do to prevent the inevitable. Until he met Christine. Christine, whose vocal gifts equaled his own, could provide him with some small legacy. From the moment he first heard her sing, he realized that he could mold and shape her voice and in some, small way, leave his mark in the world of Music. He imagined Christine singing before the crowned heads of Europe with his spirit soaring through the majesty of her voice, the both of their souls combined into one entity, if but for a fleeting moment.

Erik snapped to attention with the sound of footsteps approaching. The door opened and with his heart leapt into his throat. Only then, he realized why he had hurried. The the young girl he had spent so many years tutoring was gone. In her stead, a young woman, flushed with youth and vitality, stood. Christine had grown up without his realizing it. He felt the pang of longing for something that he had not craved in over fifteen years. It was in that moment that Erik realized that his feelings for Christine were so much less than platonic and the longing for love and companionship that had plagued him throughout his life had not been eradicated as he had hoped.

Erik had spent the past three years in an agony. As often as he had desired to, he did not dare to break the facade of the Angel of Music. As much as he craved to reveal himself to Christine and profess his love for her, he was afraid to lose his angel to the shock of realizing that it was a monster who loved her. However, this time, he was determined that he he would break the curse his face held over him. Thus, the plan was formed. For the past year or so, Erik had created and revised this plan until he perceived no flaw in its structure. Over time, Christine would learn to look past the face and find the beauty underneath. But everything needed to be executed with careful, premeditated states or he would face the familiar and real risk of losing his beloved to the curse of his visage. This thought left a bitter taste in Erik's mouth. The all too familiar longing to destroy the right side of his face surfaced. Once more, Erik longed to pull and scratch at his infected face and only cease when his cursed flesh was erased.

These dark thoughts fled from Erik's mind as the curtain rose and the light that Christine's voice radiated penetrated his entire being. He watched the remainder of Christine's performance in a trance-like state. As Hannibal came to an end and Christine soared to the last note of Elissa's aria, Erik fancied he felt his soul rise with her voice and leave his body.

Tonight marked the beginning of the end of Erik' lifetime of loneliness. In the euphoria of her, no their triumph, he would begin the process of breaking Christine's acquaintance with the Angel of Music and finally introduce her to Erik, the man.

...

A/N: This is the only time I hope to put something like this at the end, but please let me know if you enjoy this work as it unfolds by favoring/reviewing it. Please don't hesitate to give advice/feedback! Also if you see any grammar/spelling mistakes, please don't hesitate to let me know and I'll correct the offending word(s). Please remember, this is my first published fiction and I am by no means a wordsmith.

In addition, the following disclaimer applies to this and any and all subsequent chapters of The Unseen Genius: I do NOT own or an affiliated with in any way the owners of The Phantom of the Opera musical production, novel(s), or film. This is a strictly non-profit work that exists purely for the enjoyment of phans and to explore an alternate plot. I don't own the characters, I don't own the original story, I own nothing Phantom related. If I did, Love Never Dies would be very different.

Also, please note, due to the constrictions of , I was unable to label the story as it should be. This is a triple genre and contains angst, drama, and tragedy. I'm trying my best not to spoil anything, but something from these three categories triggers you in any way, stop before I diverge from the cannon. If you have any triggers but would like to continue reading, and you need to know if my story will contain any elements of these triggers DO NOT HESITATE to PM me and I'll tell you if there will be any traces of it in the future.