Summary: Sarah James is an aspiring actress in the Red Curtain Theatre Company. William Barron, her best friend,is a stage-hand, trying to make his way in the world. When World War Two comes, both have their own dangers to think about. First chapter sucks.

A/N: Inspired by The Phantom of the Opera and Moulin Rouge!.

For the first thirteen years of my life, the theatre was my playground, my Earth and my schoolroom. The world outside the secure walls of the building were strange, unfamiliar. The large stage, red curtain, the costumes, the make-up, the noise of people practicing their lines... That was home. The road I took to school and to the market with Mother were foreign lands... Rome andDenmark, even the imaginary world of Oz were more familiar to me than the streets of London.

My mother was the one who brought me into the wonderful world of theatre. My father died when I was about three months old. She found a job as a seamstress, sewing costumes for the Red Curtain. They offered room and board for the employees; that, I think, was one of the reasons why she took the offer. I grew up surrounded by Shakespeare, Ibsen, even Goethe if Mr Friend was feeling daring.

William Barron was an orphan when Mr Friend employed him. He was thirteen; I was ten. Will was big-footed and clumsy. He tried helping the stage-hands when he could. For a time, they tried teaching him how to paint the scenery and props. Then, the day before opening night, he spilled blue paint on Cleopatra's gown. They taught him how to work the curtains. No one knows what happened, but the curtain came down on Brutus and Julius Caesar. Everyone grew exasperated. Even patient, gentle Mr Friend grew frustrated.

Then, two hours before Hamlet, Will tore Ophelia's gown. I saw him. He looked up in horror when I gasped. I rushed over to inspect the damage.

To our horror, Mr Friend walked in. He saw the torn lace and the both of us. His usually smiling, gentle face turned red as he demanded, "Who -- God! What happened?" I could feel Will shivering next to me. I knew that if Mr Friend knew Will was the culprit, he would probably put the Barron boy on the street. So I stepped forward.

"I'm sorry, Mr Friend," I said. "I didn't see where I was going."

Mr Friend sighed and said, "It's alright, Sarah. Just... take the gown to your mother and tell her to see what she can do with it."

Our friendship was sealed that day, and Ophelia became a joke between us both.

I think, somewhere deep down, we both knew that we would go our seperate ways someday. He would go on working for Mr Friend and whoever comes after him as a stage-hand. I? I would probably be a seamstress or maybe even an actress. We seldom thought of it, though, only living for the day. But I don't think we both thought that something as drastic as a war would threaten to tear our friendship apart.

So begins my story. The place is London, the time is 3 September, 1939 -- the day England declared war on the nation of Germany.