My Dearest Saffron

Chapter Two

This man, this person grasping my hand looked so much like Alexander. Not in a good way, though. They had the same bright eyes, but they were not the same color. This man's were green, Alexander's were blue. They had the same pale skin, and the same sharp jawline. But this person's mask covered their entire face. Besides holes for the mouth and eyes. I began to panic. What happened to Alexander, and did anyone else notice that it wasn't him? I wasn't focused on the song, but the notes came out of me either way. It was like I was being controlled. I glanced behind me. Nothing. I couldn't see a single person. My voice continued the melody. Then when I stopped singing, he started.

His voice. It was the most melodic thing I've ever heard. He nodded to reassure me, and that's how I felt. Reassured. Safe. Okay with the fact that some strange man was leading me to who knows where. But I did know where we were going. He let go of my hand and I ran offstage. I started running to the place where the gondola was placed. I sat down, but he was already there. I ran into him, and whispered a "Sorry," and got into my place. The next verse flew by, and the door opened to where the gondola was coming out of. This verse came, and it went. Next up was the bit of the song I had been dreading since day one. The operatic bit. First came the G#5, and the riff went smoothly. But the problem is I didn't feel like I was the one singing. It was like that person was controlling me and telling me to sing. Next came the A#5, that went well too. I followed the tone of my voice; It didn't sound like myself. Now it was the C6. That riff was the most difficult of them all. Then came another C6...And another...And one more then...

The E6.

It was the highest note in the show, and I had hit it successfully. My chest was pounding. I put a hand to my throat, comforting it. Then my hand traveled down to my collarbone, and I smoothed out the dressing gown. I turned my head to where the supposed Phantom was standing. I saw those familiar blue eyes. It was Alexander. Somehow, they must've switched places during the scene. But who was that man and why was I drawn to him?

The audience roared with applause and cheers. We had just finished the first show, and Alexander was giving his speech in honor of the opening night. Curtain call went well, and once he had finished, we all bowed once again and ran backstage.

Rosaria jumped into my arms and hugged me so tightly. She was thrilled, and so was I. We let go and I headed back to my dressing room. My sisters and my brother were waiting there. They hugged me tightly too.

"Good job, sissy!" Esme exclaimed.

"Thank you so much." I smiled. They left to go find our parents, and I was alone. I took off the thick white dress I was wearing, and put some more comfortable clothes on ; Some ripped jeans, a tank top, and a blue sweater. Then I took my hair down. It was coated in hairspray, and it was not easy to handle. I put it into a bun and took off my makeup. As I looked at myself in the mirror, I saw something on the table next to the door. It was a letter, sealed with a red wax seal shaped like a rose. I picked it up and turned it over. It didn't say who it was from, all it said was:

To Saffron Hale

I slowly opened the envelope. The paper inside had a black border, and it was folded very nicely. I unfolded it, and it read:

My Dearest Saffron,

Your performance tonight was phenomenal. I was watching from the rafters; I have never seen someone so talented in my life. I do hope our paths intertwine once again.

At first, I thought this was some sort of joke orchestrated by my siblings. Nothing more than that. But it was such a beautiful letter I thought it was authentic. The handwriting was neat, a beautiful cursive. I clutched it close to my chest, and then I thought of something. Why don't I write a response? It was a good idea. I opened a drawer, pulled out a piece of parchment and an envelope, and began to write.

The letter you wrote me was lovely. Thank you very much, and I also hope we meet once more.

Saffron

I folded the parchment and slipped it into the envelope. I set it on the end table next to the small couch and turned the lights off in my dressing room. But who sent that letter? I wish I could find out sooner. And whoever did send the letter must be someone in the theater. Or it was the man with the green eyes from earlier. I would find out soon enough.

WC: 851