-Discontinued- A Guiding Hand (A Phantom Of The Opera Fan Fiction)

1 - returning to France

(I'm sorry if the beginning is a little slow trust me keep reading and it will get better!!!)

I do not own The Phantom Of The Opera this is just a fan fiction. I own nothing from this movie/book/musical.

1870's France. A time where literature, music, and different forms of art were very popular. A time where women were seen as dolls. And men only looked for women with beauty instead of talent or intelligence. But then again who am I to judge? A run away teenager, a writer who's pieces will never be seen because of her self conscious fits.

My name is Nathalie Rivera, I guess you can say that I was here to find a life of my own. A place I can call my own. But for now, until I can find a job I have been staying at a small motel across from what seemed to be a newspaper company. Maybe I could try applying there, writing was a rather large passion of mine as long as many other things that you can call "passions" of mine.

I was sitting in a park on a rather cold fall afternoon. I loved all the colors of fall. The trees and the crisps smells of the leaves. I had no idea why but I found it relaxing. While sitting in this park it just reminded me of my past. A rather sad thought but at the same time, happy. I had a lot of contradicting emotions about my past but to be completely honest, thats not something I need to worry about anymore. Its in the past and it does not need to be a burden on my shoulders any longer.

I had a small notebook or journal sitting on my lap with a pen in hand while sitting on a metal bench in the rather beautiful park. Writing down, my thoughts on the days events. I did this sort of thing everyday. It was somewhat of a stress reliever. It always had been.

After some time of enjoying the cool weather I felt like I needed to find some way to warm up a bit. I had noticed while making my way to the park that there was a small coffee shop. A nice cup of tea or coffee would be great right now.

When I walked through the door the strong of coffee hit my nose as along with the jingle of a small bell that probably was put their to tell the workers when a customer had come through the door. Which worked. The once seemingly empty shop had then been filled with the company of a young man in his early twenties. He stood at maybe around six three? I, myself am rather short only standing at about five four. He had shaggy dark brown hair and bright blue eyes. Almost striking in nature. That I felt myself get lost in them for a moment before I was snapped out of it by the man's voice.

"Hello? Miss? How can I help you?" The man seemed to assume that I didn't speak French and I smiled at him warmly as I glanced over the menu.

"Hello Monsieur can I get a small Beignet and a cup of hot tea?" I'd ask as I saw him smile at my choice of pastry. I remember trying Beignet the last time I visited France and it was a rather interesting pastry, much like an American fritter desert.

"Certainly Madame." he'd reply "That will be five francs" the man said as I reached into the small black bag that slung from my shoulder as I pulled out the needed money and handed it to the man before me with a small smile. He'd nod in approvement before going off the get what was needed.

I took a seat at one of the many tables. Preferably one by a window but still off in the corner where I wouldn't be noticed too easily. I know that sounds a little weird but being unnoticed was something I liked, and rather, something I was good at. I think the only way I'd actually be noticed was in you put me on stage as a lead role in one of the most popular Opera's in the world.. Not like I would ever do that to begin with. People and myself are not a good mix. Though I was snapped out of my thoughts by what I had ordered was set down in front of me.