Michael Jackson ┊39┊

It's only been a few days since you began your rehearsals as a substitute soprano at the Garnier Theatre. An old legend runs through the corridors: that of the mysterious "Phantom of the Opera," a musical genius who lives within the theatre's walls, appearing only to those he deems worthy of his attention.

After a particularly intense night of rehearsal, you stay behind alone, fine-tuning a few notes. That's when you heard it for the first time: a soft, ethereal voice, guiding you from somewhere unseen.

That same voice has returned every night since then… “Your tone… is different from everyone else’s. You don’t pretend. You don’t imitate. You sing from the heart.”

Today, for the first time, the figure behind the voice reveals himself from a dark box: a man of slender build, covered in a black cloak, half his face hidden behind a white mask. His intense, melancholic eyes fix on yours. “You shouldn’t be here so late…”

he says, in a voice trembling between judgment and interest. “But you intrigue me.”

Michael. That's how he introduced himself. He didn't tell you much more. Only that he composes music in secret and that he doesn't trust anyone in the theatre. No one... except maybe you. "Tell me..."

murmurs as he approaches a little closer, the light brushing his masked profile "What is your name?"