Phantom of the Opera 1. Chapter 1

Okay, so, I was digging around through all of my old documents, and stumbled across this. I think I was...twelve when I started this? I can't remember. Enjoy.

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Chapter One

Spread like Wildfire

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**** The lights flared out, the walls creaked, screams filled the room, and a roar of thunder completed the scene. I could hear them running, clawing their way towards the door, tripping over discarded books and bags, long forgotten. I sighed heavily.

A shadow crossed the stage, and I peered closely at it. My silted eyes couldn't make out anything, perhaps it was just a shadow? I refused to stop looking.

The lights flickered and hummed to life. I turned to see Kerry still sitting next to me, an almost bored expression on her face. Kerry and I were very alike, while at the same time incredibly different. We both were quite tall for our age, had rather big noses, blue eyes, and stronger builds. Kerry was a little bigger than I, and my hair was slicked back, black and greasy. I hated my hair, people teased me about it. It wasn't fair. Kerry's eyes were almost a steel gray and had black streaks in them. They were triangular in a way and she had perfect twenty-twenty vision. My eyes were a soulless blue, misty and pale. My skin was white as cotton and rough as sandpaper. Kerry's skin was nice and tanned. I usually wore long black pants and a ruby red shirt on hot summer days, never leaving the foster house without my parasol. Kerry wore flip-flops and tank tops and short shorts. She was active in the community and pretty and all the things I wasn't. She was a soccer goalie, and everyone loved her. No one seemed to know she had a sister. We aren't blood sisters, but we've lived together for so long, we kinda grew on each other. Kerry plays the clarinet in school band; I play the violin, piano, and guitar.

My name is Jessica but everyone, well anyone who knows me well (and that's narrows that down to Kerry), calls me Cherry, because my favorite food in the entire world is maraschino cherries. I can eat buckets of that stuff.

"Ride on the bus with me?" I asked Kerry quietly.

"Nah, I have after school gym with Eric." Kerry replied, packing her things into her backpack.

"Which one?" I asked, wishing I had bitten my tongue. "Not that creepy guy right?"

"What, no, Eric Tomas." Kerry said, waving to Eric at the front of the auditorium. He waved back. I snorted. Eric Tomas, I was twice his size. He had messy blond hair and too large blue eyes. He was around the size of the popular girl Claudia. She was practically only four feet tall and was as fat as a twig.

"Well, see ya then." I mumbled, slinging my backpack over one of my arms. I knew that the weight would mess up my back, but I was beyond caring. I waited until the bell rang and everyone else had left the auditorium before I started making my way through the crowd towards my locker. It wasn't hard, people either completely avoided me or grouped up so I couldn't get past. I started humming unconsciously, not caring about the whispers behind my back followed by giggles. I didn't care anymore. They would all see. Someday, I knew I was going to be something big, something famous. And the only person who would share my fame was Kerry, because Kerry was the only person I ever knew.

The lockers in our school were small, so I don't have to worry about getting shoved into one. Even if they were bigger, I probably wouldn't have to worry, no one laid a finger on me, they probably thought I had some kind of disease. People avoided me like plague, and talked to me as if I would burst into tears with every word they said. They were so kind and pitiful. I grimaced inwardly. I hated being pitied. People asked me to dance at parties or play games or sports. I hated it. Hated it hated it hated it! I would much rather prefer to be alone, in a snowy castle, or garden or heck even a cemetery, and play my music. I was becoming obsessed with playing. There was a piano in the basement of the foster house I played in my spare time. If it weren't for school and studies I would do nothing but compose and sing and play notes on the piano. I was completely enthralled in music. It only made my day worse to see how the students had reacted when the movie we watched in chorus was over. I had loved it so much, they sang songs mockingly and teased and criticized it. I hated being so different.

After empting my locker, which only took a few seconds because I rarely ever used my locker, I headed towards the buses. I was usually the last person on the bus, along with Kerry, but today the bus was packed. I mean full. There were no free seats whatsoever, which bothered me because I avoided sitting next to people I didn't know at all times. I sat down next to Virginia Kley, a new girl as popular as they come. She had dyed blond hair in the newest style, mascara and eyeliner making her eyelashes droop from the weight, and an incredible annoying high pitched speedy voice that only a gossiper could possess. She shoved me into the window side of the seat and continued chatting with her followers.

"Ah!" A voice cried from in front of me. A boy was shoved into the corner of the seat ahead of me much like I had just been. I could make out his ear through the crack between the seat and the wall. It was almost gray, as if it hadn't seen sunlight for years. But it was the next thing he said that caught my attention.

"Fop." He muttered. My breath hitched. I was the only one I knew that still used that word. It was such an old word, I'm sure many people don't even know what it means.

"I don't know," I whispered through the crack. "He looked pretty poorly dressed to me." At this the boy whipped around and glared at me, but there was something else. After a moment or two, he stopped glaring and just studied my expression. His eyes were a light teal with amber streaked in them. His cheeks were hollow and his lips were split from lack of moisture. His dark hair hung unruly in his face. A very awkward silence followed before he turned around again, obviously hoping to ignore me.

The bus ride was long and agitating. When they finally pulled to my foster house I crept up the aisle like a phantom, my movements trepid and stiff. My eyes staring straight ahead of me, but I could still see the whisperers, I could still feel their eyes burning into the back of my head. There was one pair I felt over the others, though. It was the boy. I decided to call him 'Fop'. When I turned to exit the bus the chatter started again. Fop remained silent, his eyes never leaving me. When the door closed and the bus started to pull away, I glanced up only to see Fop was still staring at me. I gave a small, incredibly suttle wave. After a second or two he returned it, and the bus was gone roaring down the road.

The rain had stopped but the gravel road to the foster house was slippery and muddy. The smell of rain mingled with the overpowering pines. When I finally reached the Iron Gate to the house, my perfect black shoes were brown and caked with drying mud. I sighed inwardly and pushed the gate open. My foster house was quite old and looming in the middle of the woods. Its creamy walls were covered in ivy and the grasses of the front yard were overgrown to around my waist. There were stone remains of what I suspected to be a crumbled fountain covered in vines that trapped it into the earth. Behind the house was a small meadow with equally high grass and a small stream. There was also a scrubby looking willow tree that we hung a rope swing from.

I walked through the narrow stone pathway to the mahogany front door. I didn't bother to use the knocker, I just strode right through. I pulled off my boots, as soon as I was done studying I would clean them off. I would hate to ruin the smooth leather. I walked casually up the ancient spiral staircase until I reached the third floor.

"West hall, forth door on the left." I repeated to myself. I kept forgetting, there were way too many doors in this house for my taste. Many people could see me living here, (ironic because the only people that see me are the teachers and Kerry), but no one in a million years would believe that Kerry Walker lived in a Victorian foster house. The thought of it puzzled me for a moment. She deserved so much better than I.

I opened our door in the west hall. We had been living in this house for practically our entire lives, but I still needed to remind myself what door was ours. The room looked as if it had been split in two. Kerry's side was a light pink, the way the room had been originally painted, with posters of her favorite athletes, pictures of her friends, catties, bags, magazines, and clutter tacked to the walls and spread out of the orange and green quilt on her bed. My side had pale lavender walls. A thick black lace canopy was messily stuffed between the bed and the wall. Pictures drawn with loose ink were clumsily tacked to the walls and paints and quills and ink bottles were rolling out from under my iron bed. My bed spread was a crisp white, the curtain I had sewn together for Kerry and I was orange on her half and lavender on mine. We were so very different. I threw my black backpack onto my bed and sighed. I had come to the decision to skip studying for the night. Kerry made sure I studied every subject for an hour, long into the night. Tomorrow was the last day of school, anyway, and History was my best subject.

I walked back down the stairs and picked up my boots. The next thing I knew I was in the backyard scrubbing away at them with a sponge and a bucket of soapy water. I was never an expert at cleaning, but I didn't plan on wearing these boots much more anyway. The water would probably shrink them. They would still look nice in my closet, though.

Around the time I finished my first boot the late bus pulled up. I knew that Kerry took the time to wave to all the open windows where her friends hung out to wave goodbyes. I know she stops by Sally and Shelby Fitt's house to buy a new sparkplug for her collection. I knew she would side track through the mountain trail so she came up to the house from the meadow rather than the main road. I knew she would smell her favorite lilac bush just outside the back door. I knew she would smile at me before she walked in and made a peanut butter and chocolate syrup sandwich. I knew all this because we walked home everyday together, and she always followed the same route. Everyday. No matter what.

What surprised me is the fact that she sighed and collapsed on top of a weed covered apple crate and watched me scrub my shoes clean. Once I finished the last one and left it to dry I sat on top of an over-turned bucket and store out into the meadow. I saw a few deer, hiding in the long grass, and a tortoise slump over to the stream for a drink. Kerry sighed heavily.

"What?" I asked her finally. She groaned. "Are you sick?"

"No," She replied, standing up.

"Was it after school gym?" I asked. I noticed she didn't have a sparkplug in her fist or pine needles stuck to the bottom of her sneakers.

"No, after school gym was fine." She muttered. "It was after after school gym, in the locker room. I saw-"

"Cherry and Kerry!" A voice called from the house. Shirley Fammon, the most annoying, cat loving, cabbage smelling seventy three year old the world had ever seen, called for us. She was our foster "mother". The pure thought of that made me want to throw up.

I dropped the boot on the ground next to the bucket and stood up, following Kerry into the house.

"Wonder what Shirley wants…" I mumbled, running my hand along the faded wood table in the basement kitchen. Kerry didn't answer, which was odd.

"Hurry up!" Shirley screamed from the floor above. Kerry started scaling the stairs, and I noticed she was a lot slower today than usual. I would talk to her about it tonight.

Kerry opened the creaky old door and stepped into the velvet and cabbage smelling parlor room. A fine layer of dust had coated everything and the smell of pure old furniture and brandy lingered in the air. The cream curtains were closed and the ticking of the grandfather clock was maddening. I silently sat on the Victorian couch beside Kerry. I noticed she was shivering, and her skin looked a lot more like mine than usual. Pale.

I came to the decision that Kerry was sick, and in denial. There was no other explanation. There were a few creaks from outside the door leading into the parlor, but I knew better than to believe that someone was coming. I knew so much better than that now. I remember when I was little I used to tense at every old groan or creak the house made. I was stupid in my youth, though. Stupid and imaginative. I was more imaginative now though, dreaming up my own world all night long, but I kept it to myself.

Finally, two pairs of footsteps approached the parlor. The door opened and Shirley, and one of her cats, was followed in by a very tall man with curly brown hair and thick wire rimmed glasses perched on top of his crooked nose. I knew I wasn't going with him to a new home. I could feel it.

"Cherry." Shirley hissed. I stood. "Go now." She said, her shaking and crooked bony finger pointing back towards the door that led to the basement kitchen. I nodded and silently strode over, stiff as a board. I couldn't wait until this man was gone, Kerry and I usually studied down in the kitchen over a snack around this time, and Kerry would be very angry if we didn't study. She wanted straight A's for everything.

I started pacing, back and forth. Staring out the dusty window at the willow tree. A few crows came down over by my boot and fought over a crumb or something.

A minute passed. Five. Ten. Something was wrong. Interviews never took this long. Kerry knew that the man wouldn't adopt me, we shared that certain sense. She wouldn't dare.

"Cherry!" Shirley screeched. Finally, I thought, wiping an invisible drop of sweat from my brow. I hiked back up the dark staircase and stepped into the parlor, Kerry was no where to be seen. I felt my heart clench, but quickly dismissed it. Kerry probably had to…use the bathroom, yeah that's it. I thought quickly. I sat on the couch again, silently and stiffly as before. The man looked at me over the top of his glasses with a disapproving look in his eyes. I sighed inwardly.

"Your name is Cherry?" He asked suddenly. I nodded once, rather quickly.

"Why?"

"Sir, my real name is Jessica." I said quietly. "My nickname is Cherry."

"How long have you been here?"

"Fifteen years."

"What do you do for fun?"

Oh god... "I make music,"

"What are your visions of a good family life?"

"Quiet," I say, almost automatically. Gingy, Shirley's now present cat, hissed at me.

"How are you in school?"

"Quiet," I replied dryly. "High honors and Principals list."

"Are you active and sociable?"

"No."

"Alrighty," He said, clapping loudly, breaking the cold silence. Gingy hissed again. "I think we're done here." The man stood from the chair he and been sitting in and left the room, his footsteps squeaking behind him. Shirley stood up slowly.

"Miss Fammon," I began politely. "where is Kerry?"

Shirley sniffed and held her head up. "Packing." She replied.


	2. Chapter 2

****I plan on only updating this once a week, probably every Wednesday from now on, but per request I've decided to post the second chapter. Enjoy.

ALSO

DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything you recognize. Surprise surprise.

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**Chapter Two**

**Crawl**

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The bell rang, school was done for the summer. I stood and left the classroom, setting my eight page long essay and final packet on Mrs. Zera's desk. She smiled warmly at me and nodded. I just returned the glance.

Kerry was gone. Kerry was gone. Gone. Forever. I felt like just giving up, running away and living in the woods. I knew how to survive and fight and hide. The police would never find me. Heck no one would realize I was gone. I walked through the hallway, towards the buses. Pushing people out of my way, staring lifelessly ahead of me. People stared, people always stared. I wish I could blind fold them so they wouldn't stare at me ever again. So they didn't stare at anyone the way they store at me. It wasn't fair.

The night Kerry had left I had pounded on the ivory keys of the piano in the basement. Shirley, in result, took that away from me, locking it up and hiding the key in her room. My piano, my only link to freedom, to sanity. I wasn't going to survive without it. Never again. Rain pelted my face but I didn't care. It soaked my naturally slicked back black hair and washed away the little makeup I had on. I didn't wear much, only a little bit to blush to hide the unnatural pigment of my skin. The last thing I needed was for people to make fun of my fare face.

I tripped walking up the bus steps, people burst out laughing, hoping my face would burn with embarrassment. They slowly stopped when they saw the way I stood up slowly, barely supporting my legs. The stopped laughing when they saw the dead look in my eyes. They stopped laughing when they saw how unaffected I was by their teasing. They felt no sympathy, though. Only boredom. They would make fun of the next person to trip, and they would continue to laugh when they shot glares around the room, like I used to. I couldn't anymore though. I was too weak to even move my lips in song.

I shakily made my way to the back of the bus. There was an empty seat today, to my relief. I collapsed into it, realizing how stiff my aching muscles were. I closed my eyes tightly, blocking out the light. At the time, all I wanted to do was curl up into a ball and cry my eyes out. That would earn me a summers worth of staying at home, stupid rumors.

"Excuse me, can I sit here?" My eyes fluttered open. I hadn't even realized anyone was there. How long had he been standing there? It was Fop. I considered him a friend, of some sorts, or maybe an acquaintance.

"Um, sure." I said, scooting over a little. Fop was dressed, once again, in a dressy white shirt with a plain black jacket, long black pants, and what appeared to be dancing shoes. His black bangs hung dismally in his teal and amber eyes.

"What's your name?" I asked out of sheer boredom after around five minutes.

"Alexander." He replied shortly.

"Okay." I said quietly. Something about this kid was really creeping me out, which was saying something, because I usually was the one doing the creeping.

"Yours?" Alexander asked suddenly.

"Cherry." I answered.

"Oh, nice to meet you."

The bus stopped and Alexander stood up, grabbing onto the seat to keep from falling over.

"This is my stop," He said quietly. "have a nice summer." He inched through the aisle, crowded with backpacks and popular kids trying to trip him. I felt rather awkward in that moment. Reality hit me suddenly; I had gotten off before Fo-_AlexanderAlexander Alexander_. Yesterday. Red hot anger bubbled in my stomach. That kid hadn't let him out at his stop, he probably didn't get home until seven or something.

Ten minutes passed, twenty, somewhere around thirty three the bus finally stopped at the long wooded gravel road that led to my foster house.  
I was drenched as a wave of water submerged me when the bus pulled away, leaving me another pair of muddy shoes to clean. The air was freezing and the drafty breeze didn't help matters. It was unnaturally cold for a summers day, and rainy.

After trudging through the high grasses I stalked up to my room, threw my backpack on my bed, and practically ran down the stairs to the basement. I needed to see if the piano was still locked up.  
After running through the clutter and mess, jumping over a few piles of trash, and breaking down a door with rusty hinges, I came to the room the piano was in.

It was relatively small. There was a musty window in it, but the dead light only illuminated the excessive amount of dust particles floating in the air. The cover was down on the piano, but the lock was penetrated with something, that something obviously being the key. I squealed in enjoyment and slipped on the dust coated floor was I ran to the piano. I needed now more that anything to play.

I spun the key in its lock and threw up the cover, revealing the yellow ivory keys. I sat down on the rickety bench and posed my fingers in song. I paused for a brief minute, trying to think of a song, when it hit me. It wouldn't be nearly as powerful on the piano as it would be on the organ, but I was short an organ at the moment, so the piano would have to do.  
Toccata and Fugue, it was one of my favorite songs. Unfortunately, as soon as I struck the first few notes, Shirley's voice came booming through the vents.

"Cherry!" Shirley roared, making the vent shake and more dust to boom out of it. I ignored her, for once, and continued to play, adding the pedal and slamming down the keys more furiously. "Cherry get up here now!" Again, I ignored her and continued to pound all my rage and sadness into the song, still only on the third chord.

The door to the piano room flew open just as I finished the ascend, and started the descend. My favorite part. Shirley came stomping over to me and grabbed me by the shoulder, whirling me around to face her. There was a man standing in the doorway. He was completely dressed in black, save an antique looking cravat that was actually the color of dark liquor. I froze in place, his greenish teal eyes focused on me, specifically on my hands, which were starting to bleed from the intense pounding. They were shaking, but were piano player's hands nonetheless.

A chill went down my spine when I saw the bone white mask that covered the right side of his face. I had never in my life seen something so odd, perhaps it was some kind of fad in a foreign country? I couldn't for the life of me realize what was going on.  
"I'll take her." The man said. I shivered again, his voice was deeper than I had expected. Like pure midnight velvet, or maybe my favorite dark chocolate manifested into an almost physical from. I suddenly felt very insecure and I crossed my arms over my chest. It sounded like a slave auction to me. Shirley's witch like crackle filled the room.

"Her? HER? She's the stupidest ugliest girl I've ever fostered." Shirley looked towards me as if I was a blob of dirt.

"Now, it isn't very polite to make false remarks." The man said quietly. Shirley made a 'humf' sound and turned, leading the man back upstairs.

I just sat there for a moment, transfixed on the doorway where the man had just been standing. I jumped up and sprinted to my room, hoping to pack my things as quickly as possible.

I threw my door open and ripped an old suitcase from my closet. I paused briefly when I blew the dust from it and it bounced into my face. I gasped and continued to unlatch it.

It didn't take long to pack the few outfits, boots, blanket and pillow I owned. I stacked my drawings carefully and weaseled them into my backpack. I threw my canopy under my bed, hoping the moths would find it before Shirley.

I slung my backpack over my shoulder and heaved my suitcase down the stairs. I couldn't believe what was happening, I was going home, wherever that was, whatever that meant.

When I made it down the stairs five minutes after I had gone up, the man was waiting for me by the door, Shirley by his side. Shirley was, as usual, sneering at me. I approached, tugging my suitcase behind me, when Buttercup, one of Shirley's many cats, came and jumped on my shoulder. Buttercup was only a little kitten, though, so I continued walking as if she was never there.

After what seemed like an eternity, I made it to the door. The man offered to take my suitcase and I gave it to him gratefully.

"Well," I said quietly to Shirley.

She looked at me, her eyes squinted. She took Buttercup off my shoulder. "Good luck." She said quietly.

I looked towards the man. He smiled at me briefly and nodded to Shirley before opening the door and motioning me to go out first.

"Thank you," I said after a minute or so of walking towards his car.

"It was my pleasure." The man said offhandedly, dismissing it with a wave of his hand. I felt my cheeks tint pink as I saw how easily he carried my suitcase. I silently decided I would have to start working out this summer.

"Is that your car?" I gasped as I saw a rain drenched Rolls Royce Phantom parked on the gravel. It seemed so out of place with the crummy trees and the horrible road.

"Don't get too excited, I spent so much on _that _I didn't have much left to spend on the house." The man said with a slight frown.

"Dear God this is probably the most expensive thing I've ever seen." I muttered. The man popped the trunk and set my suitcase in. I walked over to the passenger seat, itching to grasp the handle. I had to repeatedly remind myself that this would hopefully be my car for the rest of my life, but I couldn't get over the feeling that I was actually going to _touch _thousands of dollars.

The man appeared in front of me, from thin air it seemed, and opened the door for me.

"Thank you." I sputtered once again. He smiled briefly before walking over to the opposite side of the car. I sat down gently, barely believing that an hour ago I was sitting on a rickety bus.

"Do you always sit so stiffly?" The man asked with a slight chuckle. I slumped down in the soft leather, relishing in the way it seemed to mold around me. I sighed. The man chuckled again.  
"I'm sorry, as your legal guardian I believe it best for you to know who I am," The man held a hand out for me to shake. "Erik."

I looked at him stupidly for a second before regaining my senses. "I-Cherry, I'm Cherry." I stuttered. Erik smiled softly and nodded. The engine started with a purr and I fell off into the oblivion of sleep almost immediately.

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Reviews are very much appreciated :) Thanks for taking the time to read this, it'll get better. I swear.


	3. Chapter 3

OKAY. SO. I SUCK AT ONLY UPDATING ONCE A WEEK. YOU GUYS ARE AWESOME (the few of you that are reading this, that is)

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Chapter Three

Truth Burns

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I was walking, much slower than usual, through a garden. It was incredibly large, I couldn't see the ends no matter which way I looked. Small hills, willow trees, rose bushed and hundreds of other unidentifiable plants grew untamed and wild. It was amazing that I was still able to walk the place was so overgrown.

The sky was a twisted black and gray, filled with thundering storm clouds. I could hear music, folk music. It sounded like a party close by. No matter how far I walked, or how fast, I couldn't escape it.

I broke into a deathly slow sprint, tripping over uprooted rose vines. Flowers died in front of my eyes. Trees withered and cracked. Rives beds went dry. Fires broke out, replacing the highly fragrant air with smoke and soot. My eyes watered, and I suddenly couldn't run anymore. I tripped and rolled in black dirt before slowly getting up. I felt the fire brush my leg, but I was far too spent to feel it. The music kept pounding in on my ears, stuffing my head with its haunting tune. I couldn't breathe, but I denied the fact that escape was futile.

I pushed forward, still running. My piano's tunes crashed around in my brain, making me feel lightheaded. My sprint was released, I began to practically fly forward, ignoring the thorns that cut my arms and legs from the rose bush I had run through. The music sped up, becoming louder. I wanted to scream, but it was as if I had lost my voice.

I suddenly ran face first into something. A wall probably. I cracked open my eyes to find blackness, almost a humane form. I felt two cloaked arms quickly embrace me and the rushing world stopped.

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I sat bolt upright, darkness once again. I began to flail, only to fall off something onto a hard…carpet? I sat up, standing like a wild thing. Eyes wide trying to adjust to the blackness, hands blindly spread in front of me, trying to find something to grasp onto.

I heard music in the distance, my hands rubbed up against what felt like a wooden wall. I slid along the wall until I grasped what felt like a very old doorknob. I twisted it curiously before pushing a door open. Light flooded the room. A hallway, coated in wooden planks, and a ladder disappearing into the ceiling lay before me.

Dim lights flickered from the hole in the ceiling and curiosity got the better of me. The music was faint but seemed to be coming from the attic. I hesitantly and silently climbed the ladder, peaking my head up into a very stuffy candle lit room.

I silently slipped up; wincing slightly when I thought my steps would make the ancient seeming floorboards creak beneath me. Luckily they didn't, and my eyes had time to adjust to the darkness.

A silhouetted figure sat at a table, hunched over writing. The logical side of me knew it was Erik, where as the slightly insane side of me was terrified for some odd reason. Erik was singing softly to himself, making scratching noises with his pencil before erasing something, changing the pitch, and rewriting it. I felt horrible for interrupting him. I had to write a music piece when I was younger for my violin teacher. I felt like picking up the chair I had been sitting on and throwing it at Kerry when she didn't turn her rap off.

"The bridge is crossed so …" Erik murmured, pausing slightly longer than usual. "So…"

"Stand and watch it burn?" I suggested quietly. He spun halfway to face me and smiled slightly. The left side of his face was completely and utterly normal, which made me wonder why he wore a porcelain mask on the other.

"Care to join me?" He asked quietly. I shrugged and walked over to him. He scooted over on the bench and showed me many pieces of paper, scattered around the desk. It reminded me of my room at Shirley's.

"You must have had a long day today, how was your rest?" Erik asked gently, sorting through endless piles of compositions.

"Horrible," I answered, staring out the small window at an oak tree's limbs. "I had a nightmare." Erik shivered slightly next to me.

"D-do you sing?" He asked suddenly, changing the topic dramatically.

"I used to think I could," I whispered. "A classmate said I couldn't, that she was more worthy of a solo in chorus. I never auditioned again."

"Jealousy is a horrible thing, Cherry." Erik said quietly, taking a single paper from the stack. "I presume you're an alto?"

"Believe it or not, soprano." I said, smiling at him. He nodded and put the paper back, digging for another one. He hunched down slightly and picked through with nimble fingers.

"I assume you read music?" He asked absentmindedly.

"Yes." I answered curtly.

"You play well." He said in that same quiet almost half interested tone.

"Excuse me?"

"Piano."

"Oh, thank you."

"I don't have a piano, unfortunately. But I did recognize that particular piece you were playing to be meant for an organ." Erik finally found the piece he was looking for. "Ah." He pulled it out from the others with a triumphant smile. "In which I have." He turned slightly gesturing to the left wall with a nod of his head.

I spun and gasped. A pipe organ, glittering with golden candle light. The lid was down, but I couldn't wait to see the layers of ivory keys, worn and perfect.

Erik chuckled beside me. "Shirley was obviously lacking in luxury."

"The most expensive thing I've been allowed to use was the staircase in her house." I said, looking at the floor bitterly. A small laugh escaped Erik before he returned his full attention to the sheet music in font of me.

"Handwritten," I noted, brushing the paper gently. "You compose?" I already knew the answer.

"It's become a hobby." Erik shrugged.

"I had to write a piece once, for my violin teacher." I said dryly.

"Well, then perhaps you would like to help me with this." Erik said, reaching across several songs before he reached a packet. "I'm actually having trouble with the lyrics."

My eyes scanned the first few lines, the rest of the notes, and a majority of other scribbles and sharps and tempo changes.

"I think it would actually sound better if it were diminished." I said after looking the entire lengthy composition through. Erik sighed next to me.

"Lets find out." Erik sat up and silently moved towards the organ. He pushed the lid up and beckoned me to come closer. As if I cant hear a pipe organ. I thought bitterly. He arranged the music on the wooden stand and started to play. Diminished first, Major later. After around half an hour of changing, playing, and in my case, listening, Erik was finally satisfied with a diminished beginning and a major end.

"Perfect." I breathed, knees slightly wobbly from the intense sound of the organ.

"It will be perfect when I write the lyrics." Erik pointed out.

"We write the lyrics?" I asked cautiously. Erik pursed his lips for a moment and nodded.

"We write the lyrics." Erik confirmed quietly. He stood and sat back at the desk. "Care to sing it with me?"

I shivered for a moment. My voice was very misused. Shirley didn't like me singing in my free time. On top of all the lack of singing I had never had a real voice lesson before, unless school chorus counted.

"I-I don't know." I said after a small minute of pondering. "I mean, I'm not that good." I looked towards the roof.

"Nonsense. All you need is a proper session." Erik dismissed it with a wave of his hand. He gestured for me to join him at the desk, which I begrudgingly and hesitantly took.

"What's the name of this piece anyway?" I asked as I took my seat next to him.

"Point of no return, from my opera, Don Juan Triumphant."

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My eyes cracked open, tired and heavy. The light stung and I rolled over, covering my face in blankets. Eventually the smell of eggs and bacon pulled me from the confines of my room.

The ladder to the attic was gone and I suspected Erik had returned to bed around the time I had as soon as I finished helping him with lyrics for one of his many pieces.

I found my way from the short hall into a small living room and kitchen. A plate with breakfast sat on the table steaming along with a note.  
I quickly ran to read it, nearly tripping over my own feet.

Cherry,

Out to work, make yourself at home, by all means.

~O.G.

"O.G…strange…" I hummed to myself, munching on some bacon. It didn't take long for me to get bored. I saw there was no TV, which didn't really bother me because Shirley didn't have a TV either.

I didn't know how to get into the attic, Erik probably wouldn't want me in there anyway.

I didn't own any reading books, so that was out of the picture. I sighed out loud to myself.

It didn't take long for me to finish my breakfast, which was exceptionally good. I didn't want to get a tan, so going outside was a definite no. I hurled myself onto the couch, hoping to get a minute worth of naps. I looked at the note in my hand.

"Make yourself at home, by all means." I read aloud to myself. "That means I'm allowed to go up into the attic." Erik didn't say not to, right? I tried to scroll my memory to something, anything, he might have said to me last night that forbade be from venturing into the attic. I couldn't remember anything, though, and decided to give it a try.

I slowly sat up and made my way into the tiny hallway. The attic appeared sealed. I was suddenly reminded of that movie I watched a few years back named Coraline, where this girl named Coraline found a magic world behind a locked door that only she could get into at night. The world ended up being a death trap and the people she knew in her fantasies tried to kill her parents or something. It was a very good movie nonetheless. I highly recommend it, though it was a little scary.

I tapped the door on the ceiling before pushing on it. It didn't budge. I noticed a very small handle on the left side, and decided to try that. The door slowly popped open and the ladder flung down and hit the ground with a tremendous thud.

"Hey!" A voice from outside shouted. I ran into the bathroom to look out the window. A girl, with squatty little legs and shoulder length cream colored hair came running towards the house. "Hey you!" She shouted.

I tried my best to pull open the window, but it was incredibly old and, guess what, stuck. I quickly left the room and ran towards the door, flinging it open and running onto the small screened in porch. The girl came bursting through the screen door.

"Who are you?" She demanded, slightly out of breath. I crossed my arms over my chest. After the sprint the girl seemed very un-intimidating. "Why are you in Mr. Destler's house?"

"Erik is my father." I said coldly. The word 'father' sounded completely foreign on my tongue. I did my best to swallow it and remember what it meant.

"Excuse me?" The girl asked, obviously confused. I put my fingers to my head and mumbled something.

"I was adopted yesterday." I said shortly. The girl just stared at me. "Look, I don't really know you, so can you please get off my porch?"

"What?" The girl asked, completely stunned. She was really starting to get on my nerves. I decided to be as gentlemanly as possible, though, and refused to simply push her through the door and lock it behind her. "I'm welcome here."

"Um, not now you aren't." I said, blocking her path as she tried to get past me.

"Mr. Destler hired me to clean the house. I'm allowed in here." The girl spat coldly, trying yet again to get past me through the doorway.

"Erik hasn't told me anything about you, and I honestly do not feel comfortable with you standing on my front porch. Please go away." I said moving to shut the door in her face. She blocked it with her foot and glared at me. "Listen, I can't speak for Erik, but I'm pretty good with housework, so you aren't needed here today." I said pulling it closed on her toe.

"Yahh!" The girl cried, hopping on one foot while she clutched the other. I slammed the door and locked it with a click. I turned sharply and went back to my work on the attic.

I crawled up the ladder only to find that the few candles in the room had been extinguished. I slipped back down to grab a flashlight. After a few minutes of digging in the hall closet I managed to find a flashlight and extra batteries. I decided to take some matches as well. I shone the flashlight over to the organ, only to find a piece of music that hadn't been there the night before.

I clambered up into the attic, scraping my bare knees on the rough wood. The door closed behind me and I suddenly felt very trapped.

I went back to the music, lighting some candles along the way. I sat on the bench in front of the organ, straightening my back harshly. I had gotten to be so out of it, slouching like Count Dracula. I picked up the piece on the stand, noting that it had no lyrics.

"Phantom of the Opera." I murmured to myself, reading the title. It seemed extremely difficult, and in the dim light I could make out the fact that it was, indeed, hand written. Another one of Erik's masterpieces.

I posed my fingers above the keys, sucking in a deep breath before I started the first chords. I certainly was confused at the fact that the neighbors didn't come rioting like that girl had.

After playing the piece through, I collapsed into a slouch. It certainly was an extreme piece. The right hand flying at chords five notes long, the left stretching into a three octave scale.

I finally decided the piece was unfit without lyrics, and I set to writing them. I stumbled up from the bench and searched the desk with my eyes for a blank piece of paper. I picked up a pencil and sat, starting to brainstorm.

Three or four hours later I started to get hungry, and I was about half way done with the song. I had also modified the music to be quieter during the solos.

I abandoned the work with a sigh, promising myself I would continue as soon as I finished lunch. I slid down the ladder using only my hands as I made my way into the kitchen. I nearly shouted when I tripped over a vacuum. I sighed inwardly, probably knocking it over without even realizing when I went to get the flashlight. After properly putting it away I slumped into the kitchen.

I heard the crunch of gravel outside and turned to see the black Rolls Royce Phantom park in the driveway. After a minute or two Erik stepped out, looking quiet disheveled massaging his temple with his middle and forefinger.

My toast popped out of the toaster and I hurriedly buttered it, not thinking really. The door silently opened and Erik collapsed on the couch almost immediately.

"Erik?" I asked uncertainly, taking a step closer to him. He buried in head in his hands.

"Rejected. Again." He said quietly, his speech slightly muffled by his hands.

"Oh," I said, not entirely understanding. "if it makes you feel any better, I've been lyricising all morning."

He looked up, before standing and rushing away into what I suspected to be his room. He was silent for the most part, save for the slamming and locking of the door. I felt sick suddenly, and put my toast down on a plate dejectedly.

I decided now was not the time to finish the piece I had been working on. I slowly started singing my lyrics while I poured myself a glass or water. I only paused briefly when I downed the entire glass in one gulp.

"In sleep he sang to me, in dreams he came. That voice which calls to me, and speaks my name. And do I dream again? For now I find; The Phantom of the Opera is there. Inside my mind." I paused once again, not wondering to go on. I had split the piece into a duet. I decided against it and skipped to the next verse.

"Those who have seen your face, draw back in fear." I paused again, tapping my foot on the ground almost impatiently. This is where I stopped, unable to think of anything else.

I sighed loudly before climbing back up the ladder to finish my lyrics. I found everything to be exactly the way I left it, save for a spot of wax from a dripping candle on my lyric paper.

I stared the paper down, secretly wishing ink words would appear on the paper, perfect lyrics made for me. I started pacing, something I only did when I was either extremely frustrated or worried. My thoughts drifted to Erik.  
Rejected? By what? I thought bitterly.

Once I finally reached my desired three-hundred steps I sat at the organ, hoping to perfect my song.  
I struck down the first chord with as much ferocity as I could muster. Getting past the part with only the left hand. My right hand shook uncontrollably, and I almost made the mistake of going an octave higher.

How would Erik play this? I asked despite myself already knowing the answer. I straightened my back and loosened my fingers. Suddenly, I was playing as I never had before, with a grace that was completely unlike me.

"In sleep he sang to me, in dreams he came." I sang softly, clouding my words with the intensity of the organ. "That voice which calls to me, and speaks my name." I choked on my own words. I stopped, shivers going down my spine I felt like I was being watched. I closed my eyes and drew in a rattled breath.

"And do I dream again? For now I f-find," I stuttered. I felt as if I was being closed in on from all sides. "The Phantom of the Opera is there," I opened my eyes when a felt a warm hand on my shoulder. "inside my mind."

Erik stood behind me and placed his hands on the organ, playing the melody. I caught a glimpse of the lyrics on the stand and decided to sing to them.

"Sing once again with me, our strange duet. My power over you, grows stronger yet. And though you turn from me, to glance behind. The Phantom of the Opera is there, inside your mind." Erik whispered into my ear.

"Those who have seen your face, draw back in fear," I ran out of lyrics. I suddenly became very aware of one thing, and one thing only. The cold porcelain pressed against the side of my head. Inspiration came from the strangest of things. "I am the mask you wear." I breathed, taking a pencil and messily writing the lines on the paper. Erik paused his playing for a moment.

"It's me they hear."

"Erik, please, stop…" I breathed, shivering intensely.

It all happened very quickly, Erik's hands were gone from the organ keys, soft footsteps retreated to the exit, the candles blew out by an eerie wind and I was left in the darkness I created.

* * *

Phantoms Lil Waffle: I think I love you. Don't worry, this story will be completed. I assure you :3


	4. Chapter 4

OKAY. SO. I DECIDED TO POST THIS EARLY, SINCE IT'S SO SHORT. Also, I don't want Phantoms Lil Waffle to cry. Expect Chapter Five to be up on Wednsday ;)

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Chapter Four

Fire doesn't burn

"Erik?" I asked timidly, knocking on the door in the shadows. Erik had secluded himself in his room for the entire day, and it was becoming quite annoying.

I heard a latch click and the door opened a fraction. "Erik, what's wrong?" I blurted first, very different from the speech I had rehearsed.

"Work." Erik said simply, opening the door slightly more and stepping aside. "Please, come in."

I nodded slowly, walking in quickly and silently. I was glad to see that Erik didn't lock any of the many latches now exposed.

The room was bigger than I had expected. Though it only contained a full four poster bed, a small fireplace, and a few chairs, it was probably the biggest room in the house.

I sat in one of the chairs by the fire as Erik paced behind me.

"Have you finished your song?" Erik asked suddenly. I nodded, but realizing he wasn't looking at me added a small 'yes'. Erik sighed heavily, pouring some amber liquid from a tumbler into a glass and collapsing onto the other chair, hand covering his face dismally.

After taking a few sips, he sighed once again. "Care for a drink?" He asked quietly, not moving from his tired position.

"I'm not of age." I answered quickly.

"A sip isn't going to kill you." Erik stood quickly and poured me some of the foul smelling alcohol as well as refilling his own glass.

He held out the glass for me and I took it hesitantly, making a sour face at the smell. I rose the glass to my lips and took an incredibly small sip. First the drink seemed to rip off my taste buds, second, the vial liquid burned down my throat, stripping it of flesh, but third, it pooled in my stomach, warming my entire body and relaxing me completely.

I sighed contently before taking a slightly larger sip. Before I knew it, my glass was empty. I had stopped drinking, but the warm feeling didn't leave me. I felt completely at ease, as if I was in a dream state. My vision became extremely fuzzy and my thoughts and dignity seemed to vanish with each passing second. I closed my eyes, hoping to fall off into the oblivion of sleep again, when my own voice distracted me.

"My birthday's coming up." I said offhandedly, which was odd, because I didn't remember wanting to talk about birthdays. They reminded me of Kerry.

"Oh?" Erik asked, his voice slightly grainy. "What would you like?"

"Besides black cherry soda, I want Kerry back." I felt a blush rising to my cheeks, but the usual feeling of embarrassment didn't follow.

"Who?" Erik asked, leaning forward slightly.

"Kerry Walker," I explained. "my sister, she was adopted the day before me."

"I'll look into that." Erik said softly. I nodded and smiled. It was the first real smile I had made in a long time. Knowing I felt better, so much better than I had before. All the stress gone. I fell asleep almost instantly.

I cracked my eyes open, closing them immediately. The pain was too much. I had a splitting headache, and my stomach was doing summersaults. I opened my eyes again, forcing them to stay open as I stood up. My knees were shaky and I was very unsteady. I leaned up against the nearest ting for support.

The chair. From last night. I felt a hot stab of grief mix with my intoxicated stomach, twisting me even more. Grief, alcohol, and hunger were too much, and felt the sudden urge to up chuck. I turned my bloodshot eyes to Erik's sleeping form, at complete peace. It wasn't fair, why did he have peace when I had rage and pain? Half of me wanted to pull him off that chair and throw him out the only window in the room, where the other half of me wanted to at least put him off the bed so he wasn't too uncomfortable. He had to work a long boring job, unlike me, and it wouldn't do him much good to be sleeping in a chair with a hangover.

I felt a sudden slap of embarrassment. What if I had gotten drunk, and Erik decided to stay sober, just so he could mock me later on? I felt burning rage at that point, and I reached out towards his neck. I wanted to take out the rage I had been feeling my entire life on him. Crush his innocent sleeping form beneath my hands. Suck the breath from his lungs and bruise his neck until it was completely purple. I drew my itching hands back. No. Those were not safe thoughts for a sixteen year old girl to be having. Especially about their family members. I took in a rattled breath and walked to the bathroom, leaving Erik's door open behind me. I knew it would annoy him but I was past caring. I was still angry at him for getting me drunk.

I collapsed in front of the toilet; never had it looked so amazing. I sneered inwardly. Later on, I knew I was going to regret thinking a toilet was my hero. After retching for a few minutes a turned on the shower, stepping into it not bothering to see what the temperature was. I stood staring at the shower head for around ten minutes before taking the shampoo from the rack. It, of course, smelt like roses. As everything in this house seemed to. Either that, or the alcohol had lingering effects on my brain.

I heard pounding on the door but I ignored it. Luckily it didn't open, I probably would have passed out if it had. I turned off the freezing jet of water before grabbing a towel and wrapping it around me.

"Cherry?" The voice was muffled from the door. I looked at my reflection in the mirror. I look completely disastrous. My eyes were ringed with black and bloodshot. My hair was dripping wet and darker than usual, which was odd considering how dark it usually was. I padded silently over to the door, hugging the towel tightly around my form before opening it just a crack, just enough so Erik could see my horrifying face.  
Erik stepped back from the door, opening his mouth to speak. I held a finger up.

"It's okay," I croaked, my voice harshly scraping my throat. "just, don't do that again." I placed my hand against my throat, massaging it gently.  
"I won't," Erik whispered, placing a hand on my bare shoulder. "I promise." He led me out of the bathroom into my room. "Stay here, I'll get you some tea. Get some rest." He ordered quietly.

"Don't you have to go to work?" I asked quietly. Erik made a wounded expression. His lips pressed together slightly, but not too hard as if he was pouting and his brows drew together. "You got fired." I said. It wasn't a question.

"Get some rest." Erik's voice nearly broke and he slammed the door behind him. I sighed heavily, regretting it immediately as my throat stung. I collapsed onto my bed, sucking in a deep breath slowly as to not injure myself further. My eyes closed and I felt as if I had just swum a 4k. I sunk into the bed completely boneless, not even realizing Erik had entered the room before I was propped up against the bed frame and a mug was pressed up to my lips. A spicy herbal concoction eased down my throat, snuffing out my pain instantly. Once the tea was gone I sighed contently. I cracked open my eyes but failed to see anything but the fuzzy swirling world. I held a hand up to my head, hoping to steady my vision and groaned when it failed to work. Erik soundlessly left me, leaving me only seconds before I fell asleep.

* * *

"Up!" A command raced through my ears. I groaned and rolled over, only to fall off the bed on Erik's feet. He stepped away quickly, leaving me winded and exhausted. My headache was dimmer now, and my throat had heeled completely.

I opened my eyes, pleased to find them fully functional. I sat up, pleased once again when it didn't ache to do so.

"Come on, you need to work off the last bits of alcohol in your system." Erik said, holding out a hand for me to take. I stood without his help.

"But I feel fine." I whined. I really didn't want to exercise right now, especially at-I looked at the clock-seven thirty in the morning.

"Just...come with me." Erik ordered me outside. The air was sticky and warm and the grass was short and manicured. Erik led me down a small hill towards a beach.  
"We live on the lake?" I asked stupidly. Erik covered his face with his hand, mumbling something to himself.

"Yes." He said finally, as we stepped on the beach. He handed me a bag with what I suspected to be a bathing suit inside. "Five laps should do it."  
I nodded and Erik left, practically running to the cottage.

That's how it went for the next few weeks. I had gotten over the thought that it was to get me out of intoxication when Erik told me to repeat the same thing the next day. I figured it was a way to get me into shape or something. I actually was concerned when Erik woke me up at my usual time on my birthday. I thought he had forgotten.

I walked back to the house around an hour later, drenched and dripping cold morning water. I was looking forward to the warm showers I took every morning, being on a schedule always made me feel better.

After spending all the hot water, I towel dried my hair, then, deciding to 'spice it up', blow dried it. I wasn't as shiny or as silky but it was still a nice change. Perhaps Erik would see something different and realize what day it was. After all, it was a day worth celebrating as a national holiday.

I pushed open the creaky door to my room and nearly screamed. There, sitting on an extra bed in my room that wasn't there this morning, was Kerry Walker.

"Kerry!" I practically squealed. She looked up from her book and gave me a hug.

"Happy birthday!" She shoved a pair of socks in my hands. There were, of course, orange with that special glittery thread spun through them.

"I'll treasure them forever." I said dryly, tossing them behind me. "But how? WHY?"

"It's a long story." Kerry said, jumping up and down on the balls of her feet. "Hey," She said quickly. "You remember that-that thing you did? At Shirley's?" Kerry pleaded, making a puppy face. I rolled my eyes at Kerry's odd look and nodded. I sucked in a deep breath and started to run in circles and talk very quickly.

"Gotta run around, gotta run around in circles. Gotta run around in circles and talk to myself." I tripped over a soccer ball, causing it to 'backfire' and hit me in the face. I clutched my hands over my nose. "What is it with you and Erik and wake up calls?"

"Come! You haven't had breakfast yet!" Kerry pulled me out of the room, causing me to sigh. It was going to be a long day.

Erik was, as usual no where to be found.

"So, wanna explain everything now?" I asked, shoving a piece of funnel cake into my mouth. Kerry shook her head.

"Wait until Erik gets back," She gorged on an orange for a few seconds. "oh, and I'm still going to the soccer camp next week."

"What? Why?" I demanded, dropping my fork on my plate.

"I already paid for it and the camp doesn't give refunds." Kerry said over a mouthful of fruit. I sighed deeply.

"Thanks." I said genuinely.

"For what?" Kerry asked, swallowing the last of her orange.

"Coming home." I whispered, tears filling my eyes.

* * *

Feels, guys.

Lots and lots of feels.

I love you all 3


	5. Chapter 5

eeehhehehehehehehheheehhe. yay for normal updating.

**Phantoms Lil Waffle**: don't question past me's logic. I seriously have no idea what was up with the swimming. I wrote this when I was like...twelve. lol. :3

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything you recognize.**

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Chapter Five

A Sudden Turn of Events

"I really wish you would stop doing that." I complained from my spot on the couch as Erik paced back and forth in front of me.

"Stop doing what?" He snarled. My eyes opened a little wider.

"Pacing, it drives me crazy. Are you angry at me?" I asked, standing up. Erik completely ignored me. "Erik?"

Erik stopped pacing and glared at me sideways. He strode off into his room, the door slamming was followed by numerous clicks from the many latches being locked.

I growled and threw my head back on the sofa, covering my face with my hands. Erik had been acting like this ever since my birthday. He forbade me from going up into the attic, which was where he spent most of his time, and from knocking on his bed room door. He said if the door was closed he didn't want to be disturbed. That made very little sense to me, because the door was always closed when I was in the house. I couldn't say for Kerry, though, because she didn't have a job. I worked at a small country store just down in road. It was in walking distance and Erik let it slide for my daily exercise. When I came back from my shift and the screen door slammed behind me, I heard the numerous clicks of many locks on Erik's door. I knew Erik liked Kerry better, parents always chose their favorites.

I removed my hands and continued to gaze upward, intently staring yet seeing nothing. The summer was dying down and I would have to go through the unimaginable torment of school. I was sure Erik wouldn't mind if I stayed home as long as I didn't disturb him, but I was very concerned with my grades and decided it best to stay in school. I could feign having pneumonia or something, it happened twice last year because I liked to stand in the rain at Shirley's house.

"In sleep he sang to me, in dreams he came." I murmured, turning to face Erik's door. "That voice that calls to me, and speaks my name." Erik didn't call for me anymore, though, only yelled. He yelled at me to answer the phone when salesmen called-as they were the only callers besides Kerry's friends-he yelled at me to get the door when the girl-who I now know to be named Rachael-who cleans rings. He yells at me to get my breakfast, even though he makes plenty extra when he makes Kerry's, he yells when I mess up, if I trip, laugh at the wrong times, or don't laugh at all, he yells at me if I don't clean the bathroom like I'm instructed to, he yells at me if I tease Kerry, he yells at me if I'm not in bed at the right time.  
"Why do you let him do that?" Kerry asked one day at breakfast as I was washing dishes.

Because I have no power to control his decisions? I thought truthfully and obviously. I ended up saying-"Because he has a sexy voice."

"Shut up!" I heard Erik scream from his room, there was something more. It sounded as if he was crying, no, sobbing.

I walked into the hall way, a little surprised when I found the door to be unlocked. I pushed it open slowly, wincing when it creaked. Erik was too preoccupied to notice, though.

He was curled up in a ball on his bed, screaming into his own chest, tears staining his front. I crept over to him, holding a hand out as if he were a cornered animal. I placed it on his shoulder. He immediately sprang back ward as if he hand been burned and stopped his sobbing. Tears silently leaked down his cheeks. He seemed momentarily stunned that I was in his room, reaching to comfort his splayed out form.

This was short lived though, for his eyes quickly folded into a piercing glare that would have scared anyone else out of their wits.

"I'm not afraid of you." I said quietly, taking a step closer.

"No," Erik said low in his throat as if afraid he would choke on his tears. "not yet you're not." He leapt off the bed, silently landing on both feet on the floor, walking towards me as if on a killing spree. I backed up from his approaching form until I rammed up against the wall. Erik slammed the door shut with his foot and latched a few locks. He stood, inches from me as if pressed myself against the wall. I held my head down towards my feet, eyes clamped tightly. I felt a gentle hand move my chin upwards until I was forced to look at Erik. A moment passed where conflict shone on Erik's features. After a while, the devil seemed to get the better of him. His free hand shot up and ripped his mask off, throwing it off to the side.

My face softened considerably, I tuned out Kerry's pounding at Erik's door. We stood like that, for a few awkward moments, before he completely flipped.

Erik decided it best to smash most everything in his room, screaming at everyone. Himself sometimes, but mostly me. I stood, quietly, choking back sobs and fighting back tears. The strange thing was, I didn't feel anything. I didn't feel anger, grief, and most surprisingly, fear. It, in fact, wasn't until Erik was done with his rampage and stood a few feet away from me did I really seem to realize my circumstance.

Erik was completely hideous, the entire right side of his face deformed. I felt an effective stab of pity, but quickly pushed that away, gazing from beyond Erik to his once very orderly room. Scratches from furniture being chucked at the walls went deep and debris laid everywhere. The lamp was knocked over, the glass shade shattered. Chairs were upturned and the bed was half out the window.

"You!" Erik suddenly raged, drawing me from my survey of his handiwork. "Only you could be on the brink of death, trapped in a room with a murderer, staring around the room!" Erik pushed be back up against the wall, lifting me off my feet while pressing with a breaking strength on my collar bone. I shut my eyes tightly and looked to the side. "Look at me!" Erik cried, desperation welling up in his voice.

Slowly, I turned to face him. I looked him straight in the eyes, not acknowledging his face for a second. Erik let go.

I gasped as my feet didn't support my weight and I fell to my knees. With the pressure gone, white hot pain shot through me from my collar bone. I knew it was shattered, and I clutched a hand to it, hoping the pain would dim. I fell to my side amidst the rubble, tears leaking from my eyes.

I nearly flinched away when I felt Erik's hand touch my arm.

"C-Cherry." Erik whispered. "I-I'm so sorry." I shivered beneath his fingers and didn't respond, not trusting my voice.

"Why?" I croaked out, words laced with unshed fury and despair. "Why would you do that?" I pleaded.

"I," Erik paused, his hand shivering intensely. "I don't know."

For a second, I thought I felt the hot prick of tears on my arm, but couldn't decide if they were Erik's tears, or my own blood which now was drizzled on the floor as a result of falling in the glass shards. I wavered in and out of unconsciousness. I smelt the forbidden smell of roses, I felt the snag of thorns rip my flesh and clothes, and I felt strong arms encircle me from my nightmare. I wrenched my eyes opened to see darkness. I blinked once, twice, three times. Finally something came into focus. I could feel a jolting sensation surge through me, as if I were being thrown around. My collar bone dug into my muscle and I screamed. The jolting stopped immediately and the arms tightened around me. I heard running footsteps and the jolting began, much softer now due to the fact I was being hugged against someone's chest. I reached out with my good arm and felt my fingers brush against something.

A porcelain mask.

* * *

"Wha? Where am I?" I asked absently, I cracked open my eyes and the room immediately came into focus.

"Hey Cherry, you're in the hospital." I heard Kerry's voice to my left. I turned to look in that direction, only to see a bare wall. I looked the other way and Kerry was there, sitting in a chair against the wall.

"What happened?" I groaned as the headache came around. Being around Erik always seemed to end in me being in pain.

"You, uh, fell out of a tree I guess. Erik said you fell into a pile of glass from a shattered window. Apparently some of the neighbors were playing softball and hit it…" Kerry looked at me very unsure. I knew how obvious the lie was, but I was betting on my life the doctors here saw it completely plausible.

"Where is Erik?" I asked numbly, silent venom dripping from every word. I knew no one else would sense my displeasure, but Kerry had known me for too long to believe I was fine.

"I'm, actually not entirely sure." Kerry looked towards the door, as if expecting it to open. "We kept you here over night, you were unconscious through the entire run-"

"Run?" I broke Kerry off, almost startled by this statement. Kerry's cheeks went pink.

"Well, you see, I had gone up to the country store, and I kind of…broughtthecarwithme…"

"What was that?" I asked, bite in every word.

"I brought the car with me, and I left my cell phone at the house." Kerry mumbled, looking away from me. Apparently the tiles on the floor were quite interesting to her, because she didn't make any effort to start talking again.

"Anyways," I said, dismissing it with a wave of my right hand, noting that my left arm was in a sling. "what happened?"

"Erik ran to the store carrying you, we brought you to here as quickly as possible. You broke your collar bone-" Kerry pointed at my left arm. I rolled my eyes.

"No! I thought I twisted my ankle." I said, throwing extreme sarcasm into the room. "Go on."

"The doctor actually tried to re-break it because it had already started healing, you have really strong bones apparently-"

"I drink a lot of milk." I interrupted, Kerry kept talking as if I hadn't said anything.

"And the doctor actually couldn't snap it. Erik offered to re-break it for him, and the doctor actually let him. Not without showing him how to eighty plus times."

"Shouldn't have been too hard, Erik broke it in the first place."

"Oh, about that," Erik had obviously told Kerry the real story. "he freaked out. I mean seriously, flipped, he was having a mental breakdown in the car and I had to drive. He wouldn't leave the room at all last night. I went home and got a book for him to read, but he kinda just had it open on his lap. I guess staring at you was more occupying."

I felt bile rise up my throat. "That's not pervy at all." I winced at the thought of Erik watching me in my sleep.

"Hey, it's not like he held your hand or anything, that would have just been plain creepy after how he's been acting lately."

"He's just…" I stumbled. What was Erik? I flipped through several words in my head until I found the perfect one. "lonely."

"Lonely?" Kerry looked genuinely confused. "he secludes himself in his room all day long, he's the most isolated person I've ever seen."

"We should get him a girlfriend." I said suddenly, not recalling the words before I said them.

Kerry looked at me as if I had just grown another head. "Are you sure Erik only broke your collar bone? Perhaps you have a concussion or, maybe you have amnesia? Cherry Destler, thinking of others!? What happened?"

I covered my face with my good hand. "I just want him to stop yelling at me."

"I thought you said he had a sexy voice?" Kerry said, I didn't need to see her face to know she was grinning.

"Oh, believe me he does, but the yelling part ruins the effect." I paused for a second, then added. "It's just not as arousing."

Kerry gagged on a laugh before it exploded and filled the room. The door creaked open timidly and Kerry tried her best to control herself while wiping tears of mirth from her eyes and slumping down in the chair.

Erik stepped quietly into the room, eyeing me carefully. I rolled my eyes.

"I'm not a piece of glass, and to tell you the truth, I'm not mad at you the slightest." I smiled in his direction, flashing my teeth for the first time in years. Erik's eyes widened a fraction and he nodded, walking over towards the left side of my bed.

"Oh," He sobbed dryly and quietly, placing his middle and pointer finger on my collar bone. I winced as red hot agony seared through me and my smile became pained for a moment. "I'm so sorry, I don't know wh-"

"It's okay," I said, holding up my good hand to take Erik's fingers away. "I completely understand."

"What are you talking abo-"

"I know how to fix it, too."

"What? It's already healing-"

"Have you ever fallen in love, Erik?"

Erik physically recoiled at my words, his eye lids soaring up behind his mask. He opened his mouth, but when words seemed to fail him, he closed it. I watched him intently. He tried again.

"I-I'm sorry, Cherry, but I don't think of you in-"

"No! Not me, I'm just…" I paused. "wondering."

"Oh," Erik cleared his throat. "Well, of course."

"Splendid!" I said triumphantly, throwing my good arm up in praise. I lowered it after a moment. "Who?"

All the color drained from Erik's already very pale skin and his eyes seemed to shatter with heartbreak.

"I-I'm sorry, is this a touchy topic for yo-"

"Christine," He breathed, sighing heavily.

"Who?" Kerry asked.

"I'm, I'm not from, here." Erik said. His mouth seemed to dry instantly. "I'm from, the…the past." He breathed. I sat up and Kerry loudly scooted her chair closer to my bed.

"I'm from the late eighteenth century, I…worked…at an opera house, in Paris." Erik paused seeing the amusement in Kerry's eyes at the word Paris. "Well, my occupancy was as a-a ghost…"

"Pardon?" I asked, eyes wide.

"As, you know, Cherry." Erik stumbled. "I am hideously d-deformed…"

"No you're not," I said quietly. "not hideously deformed at least." My mind strayed back to my first thought upon surveying Erik's unmasking. I threw 'incredibly ugly' and 'hideously deformed' from my mind instantly. Those were stupid thoughts that were mere observations. I would say that you don't base a book on its cover, all that inner beauty stuff. But if you think about it long and hard like Kerry probably would, then the predicament of getting my collar bone snapped in half and watching the room shatter around you at the hands of a man, than the 'you judge people based on their actions' thing really didn't apply. I thought it was better to 'judge people on their good side'. I judged Erik on the times he smiled softly at me and sang his incredible music with me. I judged him for when he was being himself.

"What are you talking about, child?" Erik hissed. "Do you need a reminder?"

"I don't if it pains you to show me your own face." I said plainly, taking Erik's hand with my own and rubbing soothing circles on his wrist. His muscles tightened very stiffly, but after a few moments, he relaxed and continued to speak.

"A chorus girl, Christine, she listened to my music, and I taught her. I trained her voice, made her bloom into a success. A Prima Donna." Erik paused, licking his lips while staring at the wall behind my bed. "The Vicomte, he became my only patron, he ruined everything. He ruined my chances of a life with Christine. He ruined my one chance at happiness.

"She loved him, and it broke my heart when I heard her say so. I-attempted to stop her from falling for him, but it was too late. He came an-and took her from me. I gave them my blessing and they married, had a son." Erik choked on unshed tears which were now gathering in his eyes. "I was there, in the stables, when the strangest thing happened. There was a flash of blue light and a person appeared, wearing a long silk blue cloak. I believe it was a man, he was holding what looked like an incredibly polished pocket watch, it appeared to be made of mirrors. I did the only thing I could think of, I tackled him. I didn't kill him, mind you, only beat him unconscious and stole this, watch… I was messing around with it and there, and boom, I had landed in some ladies lawn in this time period."

Kerry and I store unblinkingly at him. It was such an unbelievable story, and yet, it seemed too real. So true. I already knew Erik was amazing with words, his masterpieces said it all. Literally.

"D-do you know how to work it?" Kerry asked, her voice strained with excitement. All the pain and remorse in the world seemed to vanish with this one story. It seemed too good to be true. A time machine?

"Since then I have figured out how to go about time traveling. I know it seems odd, but it's true." He added that last part upon looking at my expression. He reached into his pocket and pulled out what indeed looked like a chrome pocket watch.

Kerry snatched it from him an inspected it closely. She opened the lid and looked at the contents. It was extremely basic engineering. A screen with slots labeled, day, year, time, place. An inscription on the inside of the lid said: "Q. Bobbin."

"We're going," I said suddenly, drawing Erik back into reality. "to Paris."

* * *

lol. reviews are loved, my pretties. 3

~Afto Apollo


	6. Chapter 6

(A/N:) Just for you guys, I'm putting this up early. Because I love you. So much.

THIS IS AN INTENSE CHAPTER, I'VE NOTICED.

ALSO, IT'S REALLY CHAOTIC.

WHAT WAS PAST ME THINKING OHMYGOD.

ANYWAYS.

ENJOY.

* * *

**Chapter Six**

**Let's Do the Time Warp Again**

"Ready?" Kerry asked, grasping the metallic watch. I took in a rattled breath and nodded. It had been a particularly quiet morning, the sun streaked into the room silently. My life was about to change. I stood holding Kerry's hand in the center of our living room, Erik was still mentally preparing himself. Kerry and I were like that for a while, silently standing, staring at the watch clasped in Kerry's grip. My collar bone had healed quicker than expected, but in the time we waited to venture into Paris I had been practicing my French accent. My chorus teacher always said I was extremely good at impressions, and it didn't take long to perfect my pronunciation, annunciation, and spelling. Kerry had decided to work with a German accent, since she technically is from Germany. We took time to create new names for each other, stories on our lives, and everything else you could imagine. It was like acting in a movie or re-creating yourself in your own image. Erik silently approached us from behind and proceeded to quickly take the watch. He set the place, date, time, and so on. He looked to us before he proceeded.

"Ready." I whispered. There was a click, and the floor disappeared. I screamed as we fell through the darkness before remembering what Erik had said. I composed myself immediately, quickly replaying Erik's stern words in my head. "_We could land in the past at any moment, if you're screaming when that happens people are bound to stare."_ Erik had been working on his "opera ghost" role. That solved my earlier question of what 'OG' stood for. I felt a cold breath of wind and I shut my eyes tightly.

My feet connected with hard cobblestones and I opened my eyes to see Erik ushering me into the shadows of a large, intricate, looming building. My eyes opened in awe as I looked at the craftsmanship. I had always been one to ogle at architecture.

"Come." Erik breathed, pushing Kerry and I quickly towards a wall. He tapped a few stones and the wall sunk in, revealing a secret passage. It was pitch dark and when I stepped in, I felt a freezing draft blow through me. Erik's hand was still gently placed on my back, though, and I felt safe knowing he would guide me through the labyrinth. I heard the door shut behind us with the familiar rub of stone. Darkness completely consumed me and I wondered how Erik had ever been able to navigate his way through these tunnels without getting lost and dying in the process. A dim light was cast ahead of us, and I could practically smell the dampness of water. Sure enough, a few corners were rounded and a dimly lit tunnel ended at the mouth of an underground lake.

"It's amazing down here, Erik." I breathed, slightly embarrassed when my whisper echoed off the cavernous walls.

"It's all I've ever known practically my whole life, not much to look at after so long." Erik ushered us down a path towards the shore. A wooden row boat, rotting slightly, bobbled up and down in the water. "I've been trying to find something classier, but so far to no avail." Erik urged Kerry and I inside.

Kerry was, as usual, stunned speechless. She was always so easily impressed. A few rows, raised portcullis, and bump on a gravel shore later and we were standing in what I presumed to be Erik's home. The room was dazzling, hundreds upon hundreds of candles lit the dark interior. Drawings and drapes covered the stone walls. A brilliant pipe organ shone in the dim lighting. This was the home of my dreams. There were also quite a few mirrors scattered around, which I thought ironic considering how much Erik hated looking at his reflection. Erik chuckled beside me and casually strode up a stone staircase over to his organ.

"It's really not that impressive, though I'm delighted to see you standing there with your mouth hanging open like a codfish." I shook myself visibly and nodded. "Behind the curtain next to the desk." Erik pointed to his right as he turned so his back was to me. He shuffled through some papers on his organ stand.

"Come on, let's go." I dragged Kerry behind me and entered a room behind a curtain as instructed. Kerry stumbled in lazily after me and nearly tripped over her shoe laces. I sighed, this was not going to be fun. I hated getting dressed up. The room was decorated rather plainly. A small vanity was on the wall closest to the door, a large wardrobe stood on the wall across from it. A small bookcase sat next to a very large swan shaped bed. I tilted my head sideways and store at it.

"Well, that seems a bit tacky, don't you think?" I said after a while.

"Come on! Let's get dressed!" Kerry begged, pulling me over to the huge wardrobe. Kerry and I were considered very tall for our age, and yet we practically looked up at the wardrobe.

"Ebony." I observed, running my fingers over the polished and stained wood. Kerry rolled her eyes and pried open the door. "Oh my god Cherry!" She squealed. Kerry always liked going to the mall and trying on fancy prom dresses with her friends, but those five hundred dollar things couldn't lay a finger on the gowns stored inside the wardrobe. Kerry started skimming through them immediately, looking for a dress. I wasn't surprised when she picked out a sleeveless pale orange one with white lace. She threw it on the bed and looked for a pair of undergarments that would match. She ended up with plain white. The bottom of the wardrobe held plenty of shoes. A small compartment on top housed accessories of all sorts.

"We should categorize this." I said, stepping back staring at the contents of the wardrobe with my hands on my hips.

"Great idea!" Kerry squeaked. She took the dresses she found appealing and let me slide the rest over to one side before putting them back in. We did the same for the shoes and necklaces, bracelets, funky stuff to put in your hair, ect. By the time we finished it looked like black and white. All the lighter dresses were on one side, where as I had most of the blacks and reds and deep greens and blues. I ended up picking out a simple dark green dress and black shoes. Kerry store at me disapprovingly. She reached up into the top compartment and pulled down an onyx and ruby encrusted choker. I sighed and let her put it around my neck. She dragged me over to the vanity, which sported a mirror, and looked the two of us over.

"There," She said, finally pleased with herself. "now we at least look presentable." She said the last part with her German accent. I snorted with laughter.

"Remind me not to do that, it's very unladylike." I pondered for a bit. "Wow, we're really uncivilized, aren't we?" "Depends on who you are, I guess." Kerry said, pushing me out the curtain. Erik was sitting at his organ playing a tune I didn't recognize. He didn't notice us approach due to the vibes of the powerful instrument. Kerry covered her ears immediately, while I store at her in disbelief.

"It's not that loud." I said, tapping her on her shoulder. "That's because you're, like, deaf." Kerry said, not removing her hands. I rolled my eyes and Erik turned to face us. He was wearing a different outfit than when we left, it looked a lot older. I felt his eyes skim us and I felt incredibly uncomfortable for a moment.

"Okay," He said standing up. "ready to make your debut?" I grinned and nodded. Kerry jumped once and practically squealed yes. Kerry always loved acting.

"Just, don't over do it, kay?" I said, placing my hand on her shoulder in order to keep her from jumping all over the place.

"You'll be joining the ballet ra-_girls_ tomorrow, but first you need to meet with the managers." Erik said to Kerry and she nodded vigorously. Kerry's slim and fit form was perfect for a ballerina. Kerry used to take ballet and gymnastics, not to mention many other courses. She was an exceptional dancer. "I-I have no idea how I can fit you in." Erik said looking to me. I already told him I couldn't dance. He totally believed me, though, considering how-quote on quote-"Slim and frail you are. Don't worry, Cherry I'll figure something out."

"Joy." I said dryly. Erik's eyes lit up suddenly.

"Of course! Why didn't I think of it before?" Erik ushered us to the boat. I felt like a sheep or a cow when he did that, being herded into a certain direction.

"What?" I asked, glancing at him. I could see the left corner of his mouth curl up in a small grin.

"I wouldn't want to ruin the surprise. For now, you must meet with the managers. I can only take you to the surface. Good luck." Time streaked forward and it seemed to only take seconds to get to one of Erik's entrances when a quick glance down at my pocket watch clarified we had been gone for ten minutes already. "You're going to need it." Erik opened the entrance and pushed us out into an alley way.

"Ready for this?" I asked Kerry in French. She closed her eyes and did a fist pump.

"Bring it on." She said reopening her eyes. She spoke with a German accent, of course. I smiled at now well it sounded, much better than my own. We strode up the stone steps of the opera house. I was very unaccustomed to the high heels and long skirts, but I hid my inexperience well. Kerry nodded to a guard at the door and we stepped into the most expensive, elaborate, polished and beautiful room I'd ever seen. I store up and the ceiling, mouth agape. I was beyond caring if anyone was staring. The buttresses and pillars and chandelier were too much to take in at once. I paced myself, tracing every crack, every elegant sculpted line, every streak in the marble at a time.

"'Allo, Messieurs. It iz a pleasure to finally meet you." I heard Kerry say. I took no account of the managers, but I could feel there gaze burning awkward at my throat, which was upturned since I was craning it to stare at the ceiling.

"Um, hello, mademoiselles. I-is there anything we can do for you?" I heard a hearty French voice ask Kerry.

"Oh! I had heard once of your ballerinas broke their ankle during a rehearsal. How devastating, I am truly sorry to hear that, iz she doing well?" Kerry asked.

"Why, yes, she is doing fine." A second voice said in the same tone.

"I am quite familiar of Hannibal, and I was desperately hoping I might be able to fill in for her? I know it's horribly short notice, but I had to ask. No pay iz necessary." Kerry hastily said in a very fast yet elegant German tone.

"Oh, well, we thank you for your interest in the opera. I believe we will be capable of allowing you to perform next week." The first voice said. I heard a few more murmurs between the two. "Yes, of course you may participate. We're very lucky to have willing and eager people hoping to support our business. We must ask, though, if you've had any dancing experience in the past?" The second voice said quite cheerfully. I noticed there was something hollow behind it, though. I kept ogling the ceiling.

"I was a prima ballerina in my old community theatre in Germany." Kerry said warmly and sweetly. "Due to a fire, though, I was forced to relocate."

"So sorry to hear that. Please, do make yourself at home here in the opera, Firmin." The first man, Firmin, said. I could feel him walk closer while I couldn't actually see him. I heard him shake Kerry's hand.

"Andre." The second voice said, repeating the act.

"Kerry Hoch." Kerry said pleasantly.

"And, your friend?" Firmin asked. Kerry yanked on my hand, forcing my head to straighten and my eyes to come back into focus. I shut my mouth quickly, looking down at my feet sheepishly. I felt a blush rising to my cheeks.

"Jessica Beauregard." I said quietly.

"She's an architecture hound. I'm surprised she hasn't fainted yet. Your opera house is beautiful. You must have incredible business." Kerry said causally.

"Uh, why yes." Andre stumbled. He looked rather troubled. A loud screech echoed down the hall. The managers looked towards the noise up the two level staircase. "It has been a pleasure meeting the both of you, please, Mademoiselle Hoch make yourself at home. If you would excuse us." The two strode up the staircase towards the sound of the noise.

"Great job." Kerry murmured. She let go of my hand and walked in the opposite direction, obviously looking for someone to ask directions from. I grew bored almost instantly and sprinted up the staircase the managers had taken two stairs at a time. I quickly strode down the hallways, passing multiple rooms upon rooms. I only paused when the screaming of what sounded like a Spanish woman echoed behind a large pair of double doors. I suspected this was what led to the theatre. I walked up staircase after staircase, getting lost and discovering abandoned rooms. It was great, and I felt the tug of a powerful smile stretch eye to eye. I started laughing when I ran up a particularly narrow but very tall spiral staircase. I opened a door at the top to be greeted by a burst of wind. It whipped through my hair and took my breath away. I closed my eyes and ran out onto the roof. I actually held my hands out and started spinning. I grasped onto one of the statues when I felt the threat of falling over draw on me.

"Enjoying yourself?" I heard a young voice say from behind me. I turned, cheeks flooding red with embarrassment. "Oh, hello Monsieur. So sorry to intrude on anything." I looked around the roof but saw no one else there. "Forgive my outburst, it was very unprofessional for me." I mentally scoffed. _And gaping at the ceiling like a crazed woman while the managers were staring at you is professional? _I thought irritably. "No no, I'm alone." The young man said. He had shoulder length golden hair.

His eyes were too blue and too large for a very perfectly crafted face. He held out a hand for me to shake.

"Vicomte Raoul de Chagny, I'm the patron of the opera house." He smiled at me. _So you're Raoul. Funny, you don't seem like the heartless type at all. _I thought, shaking his hand politely.

"Beauregard, Jessica Beauregard. Musician." I smiled sweetly at him in return, I really hoped I could keep this happy act going on long enough.

"So what brings you to the opera house?" The Vicomte asked, I blushed when he didn't release my hand immediately. I made the observation that he was incredibly handsome, and while Kerry always told me how amazing I was to look at, I couldn't shake the feeling that the Vicomte probably felt _very_ attractive compared to me, and rather embarrassed by my looks.

"My friend Kerry Hoch is filling in for a ballerina, Kerry is very talented, she was a prima ballerina in Germany. I've never really preformed on stage. I'm prone to stage fright." I smiled as I said this, looking down at my feet sheepishly. The Vicomte sat on the base of the statue I had been clinging onto to regain my balance.

"You should audition sometime, La Carlotta is absolutely dreadful. Would you mind singing for me?" The Vicomte looked at me as if he was a toddler giving his mother a puppy face. I blushed a deep scarlet.

"I'm not that good, I've only had a few proper lessons with a friend of mine." I looked away slightly. The Vicomte grasped my hand lightly.

"Please? I'm sorry, I know I must sound so foolish, but I've always been eager when it comes to singing, and-and it's become a hobby to listen to others perform." Raoul blushed after confessing this. I gave him a small smile. I didn't know many songs, heck I didn't know any songs. The only song I knew that was operatic and had the lyrics memorized was The Phantom of the Opera. I didn't think The Vicomte would want to listen to that though, it was rather dark. I thought of one suddenly. It was an old folksong from a TV show I watched in the electronics store windows sometime called "The Wandering Man". I took a deep breath.

"Come wander with me love, come wandering with me. Away from this sad world, come wander with me. The moon it grows pale, dear. I hope it cannot be. The waning lies, and peaceful skies, come wander with me. I once thought you were strong, I once though I knew you. I once wished you saw me, I wished you loved me, too. I know it's a goodbye, you needn't say no more. But when you sing, my heart takes wing, and makes my sprit soar. So come wander with me, love. Come wandering with me. Away from this sad world, come wander with me." A pregnant pause followed and the Vicomte smiled brightly.

"That was amazing! You defiantly need to audition. Christine Daae is rather good though, you're neck and neck. What was that song, anyway, I didnt recognize it?"

"It's called The Wandering Man. I heard it from a gypsy carnival and fell in love with it. Mysterious song don't you think?" I smiled toothily, hoping my quick lie was plausible enough.

"A carnival, marvelous! The last time I was at a carnival my brother, Philippe, got scared out of his wits from this freak show he saw. Something like, the Devil's Child? I don't quite remember, I was very young. Anyways, he said the Devil's Child was hideous, the entire right side of his face horribly deformed and scarred. He said a gypsy would beat the boy, and onlookers would laugh and throw things at him or spit. A lot of the girls screamed. He was frightened by the boy's face for weeks, couldn't sleep alone, which is very degrading when you think about it, considering he was sixteen at the time." The Vicomte blabbed. He looked at my face concerned. It had turned into a deep slightly open mouthed frown. I glared at him.

"What did you think of that poor boy?" My words were heavy and dark, I spoke with my normal voice which was much deeper than the light peppy one I used around everyone here. Raoul physically recoiled at my sudden outburst.

"I was terrified. I kept thinking the monster would be out to get me." The Vicomte answered truthfully. I stood up abruptly, thinking of Erik. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to insult you in some way. I'm not scared anymore, that was horrible what those heavens did to that boy. No matter how disturbing he looked, it wasn't fair." Raoul took hold of my hand in his, hoping I would stay.

"I-" I paused. "I'm sorry, that was completely unprofessional. I have no idea what came over me. I suppose I have a weak spot for abused people." Raoul smiled gently. The sound of footsteps running up the staircase turned both of our attentions to it. A girl with bouncing chesnut curls flung the door open, looking very angry.

"Raoul! I've been looking everywhere for you!" The girl's glance turned to me and darkened considerably.

"Have I been keeping you? I'm so sorry Monsieur, I have a tendency to blab." I stood up again, not unclasping the Vicomte's hand.

"No, it's fine. I believe you two need to be introduced to each other. Jessica Beauregard, this is Christine Daae." I glared. This was the woman who broke Erik's heart. She glared right back, a challenging look in her brown eyes. I quirked an eye brow quizzically and held out a hand for her to shake.

"Mademoiselle, I've heard much about you. The Vicomte has been more than informational and inspiring. You are very lucky." She shook my hand. Her dark look was gone, replaced by a confused one. I smirked triumphantly.

"I hate to keep you from him, of course time flies. I'm sure you must be incredibly busy." I felt like Erik.

"Mademoiselle Beauregard is an operatic singer, very accomplished as well." The Vicomte chirped in. Christine's dark look was back.

"I'm only amateur, I've had a few lessons with the most mysterious man. I've never seen his face, but his voice comes to me in dreams. It's purely angelic, he is a genius I tell you, a genius. In fact, I do believe he is here now. Watching us." I murmured that last part when I felt a gaze burning into the back of my head. I knew Erik was there. Christine looked at if she was going to scream and she fled, skirts billowing behind her. I did hear her scream when she slammed the door to the stairwell shut behind her. I laughed manically.

"That was, peculiar." The Vicomte said after a moment. I smirked again.

"Very." A dark voice said behind me.

The Vicomte yelped and jumped up, drawing his sword from his belt.

"My dear, what is ever wrong?" I asked, mock concern hiding my inside chuckling.

"The opera ghost, he's here." Raoul breathed. He was shivering uncontrollably.

"The phantom? Isn't he just a myth? Made up by the ballet rats?" I breathed.

"No, I've seen him. Heard him. His voice, it's so unearthly. In one of the earlier performances the orchestra paused when they heard his ghostly music emanating from the vents." The Vicomte was shivering now, his voice trembling. I took another step closer to him.

"You should leave." I murmured directly in his ear. He was so preoccupied he didn't realize how close I had stepped and he jumped away, sword falling out of his grip and clanging to the roof top.

"Aren't you coming?" Raoul asked, shivering intensely. I shook my head and closed my eyes.

"I don't believe in ghost stories." I said calmly.

"It's not a story! He's real!" Raoul shouted.

"Shh." I hushed him, embracing him as a mother would a frighten child. "It's nothing to be afraid of." Raoul swallowed but said nothing. I nuzzled my face against his neck and inhaled his cologne. It smelt disgusting, like the liquor Erik forced me to drink all that time ago. "It's okay." I pushed the Vicomte closer to the edge to the roof, fully intending on pushing him off. He had hurt Erik. He had hurt my Erik. He broke my Erik's heart. He ruined my Erik's life. I was going to make him pay. "He's there," I breathed into his ear, dangerously close to the roof's end. "inside you mind. Nothing more than a figment of your imagination."_ You hurt Erik. You hurt _my_ Erik. You are so going to pay._ I wanted to say so out loud. Raoul's heels were nearly off the edge now, I continued to slowly move him off. I raged, thrusting violently, though making it seem as if I had tripped. Raoul's eyes snapped open and he screamed in terror. It all seemed to happen in slow motion. Raoul grabbed my foot and I was dragged over the edge. I grasped onto the end by the tips of my fingers, gripping for dear life.

"Erik!" I yelled as loudly as possible. I heard harsh footsteps run towards me. "Help!" Erik's dark form loomed over me. I tried desperately to climb, get a better grip. Raoul's weight seemed to be dislocating my leg. Erik's cloak flapped around him menacingly, and he glared down at me, as if he was Death himself. A leather gloved hand snapped down and painfully grabbed my wrist. I cried out in pain when Erik yanked the both of us up as if it was nothing. He threw us down on the roof and disappeared immediately.

"Oh Vicomte!" I moaned, pretending to be terrified for him. "I must have tripped! I had no idea we were so close to the edge! Are you alright!?" I crawled over to him, shaking him gently.

"It's quite alright, I'm fine." He said shakily, sitting up.

"Thank God." I murmured, wrapping my arms around the Vicomte's neck. I scowled inwardly, I was so conflicted. I was beyond knowing if I liked the Vicomte, or hated him for what he did to Erik, or will do. Unless I change him. Or kill him, which ever comes first.

"Who's Erik?" Raoul asked suddenly, words slightly muffled by my arms.

"Who?" I asked through gritted teeth in a high pitched voice. I felt my body tense.

"You called out for a man named Erik." Raoul's eyes narrowed.

"Erik, oh, he's my…husband…he died a short time ago in the fire back in Germany. I was visiting and watching Kerry Hoch's performance, the building went up in flames. He didn't get out." I spoke very quietly as if each word was a blow in my heart. "Sometimes the neighbors say I cry his name at night, begging him to come back and protect me. Sometimes I cry out his name when I'm awake and I feel like I'm in danger. It feels like he watches over me, but I can't really tell him how much I miss him, or how much I need his guidance." I started sobbing into my hands. I was very good at crying on cue.

"Shh." Raoul took my hands in his, "he sounds like a great man, you must have loved him very much." He said slowly and calmly. Now it was his turn to be motherly.

"I still do, and I always will." I leaned forward and started to cry into his shoulder. He eventually pulled me into his lap, and when I looked up around ten minutes later he almost refused to let go. "Well, that was enough excitement for a few weeks." I laughed slightly.

"Excitement is something you get a lot of at the Opera Populaire." The Vicomte finally let go and stood up, still clasping my hand.

"Thank you so much, Monsieur." I said, regretfully letting his hand go.

"Call me Raoul."

"Only if you call me Jessica."

"If you insist." I smiled at him and nodded as I turned away. I felt sick. I needed to lie down. I needed to talk to Erik, who was apparently now my dead husband. Why was my life so messed up? Why did these things happen to me? Why _only _me? Things like these _never_ happened to Kerry, it was just so unfair. I hadn't even realized I was at the secret entrance Erik had led Kerry and I out of earlier. It opened and I was pulled inside with a rough hand. Darkness surrounded me and the only thing that I was aware of was the harsh mingled breath coming from 'my dead husband'.

"I am so dead." I squeaked. Erik pulled me closer to him until he was practically hugging me. I was shivering intensely, I knew that. Erik's laughter bounced off the cavern walls.

"I thought I was the dead one, and you were the one who screamed my name at night, begging me to protect you." Erik's breath was hot on my freezing cheek. "I-I couldn't think of anything els-"

"No, it's perfect. I believe we should carry out on this story of yours." Erik started leading me away from the entrance. I stumbled blindly, closing my eyes tightly when I felt Erik's mask rub against my face. Electricity plunged down my spine and I moaned in a pained way.

"Please, don't break my collar bone again."

"I don't intend on breaking your collar bone," Erik paused. "only your spirit."

I was pressed up against a cold mossy wall, Erik's body preventing me from slipping away. I could almost, _almost_, see his eyes, staring into mine as if unlocking every door into my soul. I felt my lip trembling and tears spurted from the corners of my eyes.

"Please, don't hurt me." I begged quietly.

"Do you think I take pride in seeing you like this?"

"N-no."

"Then you're wrong."

"Wh-what?"

"Just, sing for me."

"Why?"

"Now!" Erik's voice boomed off the walls and I swallowed deeply.

"In sleep he sang to me, in dreams he came. That voice which calls to me, and speaks my name. And do I dream again? For now I find. The Phantom of the Opera is there, inside my mind."

"Sing once again with me, our strange duet. My power over you, grows stronger yet. And though you turn from me, to glance behind. The Phantom of the Opera is there, inside your mind."

"Those would have seen your face, draw back in fear, I am the mask you wear."

"It's me they hear."

"My spirit and your voice, in one combined. The Phantom of the Opera is there, inside my mind."

"And there, I shall stay."

* * *

you guys suck, making me want to update every day :3 i love you all 3


	7. Chapter 7

Whatisthisidonteven...wow...wow...ugh...HEY GUYS. IT'S WEDNSDAY. YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS!

UPDATEEEEEEEEEE

Disclaimer, bruh:

lol, I do not own anything you recognize.

* * *

Chapter Seven

The Worst

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"I got the part!" Kerry cried, running up to me, throwing her arms around my neck.

"That's, great Kerry." I murmured, giving her a pat on the back. Erik's shoulders hunched as he hit a foul key. He had repeatedly asked me to go into my room while he played, saying he was 'not accustomed to playing around people.' I had, of course, refused. I heard him murmuring something under his breath.

"Wonderful, I can't wait to see the performance." Erik said finally after a prolonged silence. I frowned at him, he hadn't been acting normal lately. Reality had dawned on me quite a while ago, considering my life had changed drastically. Then, as soon as it had come, the feeling of remorse had stopped. It wasn't like I had anything in the future that I would miss, I brought the two things most important to me with me. "It should be most delightful, now please, may I have some peace?"

"Of course." I mumbled before bowing into my room, flopping down on the bed. Kerry followed, a worried look on her face.

"What happened?" She asked, placing her hands on her hips. She knew me too well.

"Nothing." I replied, rolling over so my face was pressed into the sheets. Kerry rolled me back over and gave me the classic I-don't-believe-you look.

"I met the patron." I said vaguely.

"What's he like?" Kerry asked eagerly, sitting beside me on the bed.

I pondered for a moment. Childish, annoying, dependent and over-trustworthy were all good describing words. "Young." I said finally.

"How young?"

"How should I know? It's not like I asked him." I rolled over again, pulling the pillow over my head. "I'm tired." I said, speech muffled from the thick down.

"Whatever." Kerry said. I heard the creaking of the wardrobe and the flutter of the curtain before quickly slipping off into a dreamless sleep.

My eyes flared open, greeted by darkness. I blinked a few times and waited for my vision to grow accustomed to the dim light. I quickly slipped out of bed, hoping not to wake Kerry.

My throat was bone dry, how long had it been since I had a drink? I slipped out from behind the curtain, my skirts ruffled considering I had not changed.

I was quite grateful for the cold stone floor, it didn't creak like the floor in the house in 2011 did. It also took the searing heat from my body, draining me into alertness.

I skirted to the underground lake, I didn't know if it was safe to drink, but I also didn't know if Erik had any purified water down here, and I wasn't going to drink any more alcohol.

I cupped my hands and dunked them beneath the green water. My nose shriveled at the sight, but I pressed my hands to my lips.

"I wouldn't drink that if I were you." Erik's voice echoed softly in the cave. I uncupped my hands and watched as the water splashed into the lake, not a drop drunk.

"I'm not drinking anymore liquor." I said stupidly, standing and turning to see Erik behind me in an incredibly casual manner I didn't think was possible for him.

Erik chuckled softly, turning and walking into what seemed like a solid wall. My eyes widened, before I shook my head clearing it effectively. Erik was a magician, I knew that.

Kerry would get a kick out of that, she loved magic.

I felt a tap on my shoulder, turning my head to see Erik holding a cup of water out to me. I took it gratefully and downed it all in one gulp, handing him back the cup and sighing deeply.

"What is it?" Erik asked calmly, watching me as I collapsed into his desk chair.

"I-I don't know," I replied honestly. "something just, feels different."

"I should hope so, you're in Paris, in the eighteenth century. If you were acting normally I would be concerned." Erik scoffed, dropping the cup on the floor. I flinched slightly when it exploded into several glass shards. Erik brushed a few into the lake with his feet.

A long pause followed that, I got bored pretty quickly, turning my attention to the occupants of Erik's very cluttered desk. A large model of the stage with figurines depicting the roles of Hannibal stood there, along with a wax burner. I had seen one similar to it in Shirley's basement. There was also a lot of parchment, ink vials, quills, paint brushes, oils and paints, bits of canvas, sheet music, drawings, and even a few roses with black ribbon tied around their thorny stems. I was drawn to the figurines immediately.

I gently picked one up and observed it, moving my fingers around it ever so slowly. I set it back down and sighed, my attention now drawn to the roses.

I lifted it up to my nose, taking in a deep breath. I smiled contently and closed my eyes, humming lightly to myself. I felt at ease for the first time in a while. I set the rose back on the desk, opening my eyes to see Erik looking at me curiously.

"Could you help me with something?" Erik asked quietly. I nodded, full attention going to Erik.

"Of course." I replied in the same quiet voice. Erik smiled softly, almost apologetically.

"I need you to…assist me with my plan." Erik said, walking over to the desk. He picked up a blank piece of parchment and a quill. "I'm in need of a way to rid myself of the patron."

"The Viscount?" I asked, watching as Erik dipped the quill tip into a jar of ink.

"Yes, and your little attempt to do so earlier has given me the idea of letting you do it for me." Erik said, writing a note quickly on the paper. I didn't look at it, knowing it was rude to do such. He slipped it into an envelope and sealed it with red wax.

"You want me to assassinate the Vicomte?" I asked, slightly dumbfounded. I didn't feel that awkward, though, considering I had already tried to already.

"I trust you can come up with a plan? You're rather clever." Erik said, taking the envelope.

(A/N:) I actually really liked this part of the chapter for some reason unbeknownst to me.)

"Of course." I repeated.

Erik smiled slightly. "You're going to watch the production with me," He said softly, walking towards the boat.

"But how will you go?" I asked, standing up.

"That is for me to know and you to find out." Erik stepped in, turning to face me.

"I'm coming with you." I said suddenly.

Erik sighed deeply. I knew his occupation and the requirements for such a job. "Fine." He said after a while. I smirked triumphantly, sitting in the boat as he pushed off shore.

It was silent for a while, the sound of water being the only thing that kept total eerie silence from descending over us.

"You're a very fascinating person, Erik." I said after a few moments.

"Um, thank you. I think…" Erik murmured the last part. I chuckled softly, covering my unopened mouth with my hand and closing my eyes.  
"See? You're the all powerful opera ghost, who's not afraid to slaughter every person in sight, and yet, you are bashful." I said, hand gestures going wild as they usually did.

Erik cleared his throat in surprise. "Excuse me?" I could almost hear the blush in his cheeks.

"Say it." I said suddenly, chuckling freely now.

"What?" Erik asked innocently.

"Say you love her."

"Wha-"

"It's easy unless you mean it." I said quietly, staring off at the darkness in front of me.

"But-"

"Just say it."

"It's not-"

"Come on, what's easier? Saying you love Christine or me? Dear deceased?"

"I love Christine." Erik said suddenly and I laughed plain out. Erik kicked me gently and I flinched away. A dark silence over came us again. The boat bobbed against the shore and I slipped out, holding out a hand for Erik.

He blushed and silently jumped, landing with graceful ease. I rolled my eyes.

He placed his hand on the small of my back as he led me through the narrow lightless tunnels once again. It was becoming a very usual experience. We walked up seemingly countless steps before I saw light once again. Torches clung to the walls, their fire flickering softly. We approached a stone arch, framing what appeared to be a solid rock wall. Erik tapped it gently and shoved me out into one of the many halls of the opera.

He slipped out silently behind me, leading me through the dim moon lit hallway. We passed by a few box doors. I eagerly wanted to open one and look into the theatre, but knew better than to try when Erik continued to lead me past them. He slipped the both of us into the shadows, probably grateful I didn't like the same dress colors as Kerry.

Erik soundlessly opened a door, completely consumed by shadows, and nudged me through it. I walked onto stage, nearly slipping on the recently waxed floors. Erik led me over to some rigging, motioning me to go up first. I nodded, quickly and very silently moving upwards in the moon light, Erik directly behind me.

I sat with my legs dangling off the edge of the catwalk as I tumbled onto it quite ungracefully. Erik sat beside me, staring at the stage though he saw nothing.

"Want to scare some rats?" He breathed into my ear. I nodded, my face now supporting a small grin. Erik smirked back, opening his mouth and forming words. When no sound came out I looked at him questioningly. He merely smirked once he was done. A few moments later an eerie, disembodied voice seemed to come from every direction, singing softly.

"I'll always be there singing songs in her head, and I'll always be there singing songs in your head."

I looked to Erik in awe and he silently chuckled. Erik opened his mouth again, wider this time. A screech echoed everywhere, very otherworldly and ghostly. I nearly laughed when a heard a few screams follow.

Two figures burst into the room. One looked like a very stern, rather old woman, while the other seemed to be Raoul. The woman was holding a lantern and Raoul had his sword drawn, once again.

"And he'll always be there singing songs in my head." I murmured, surprised when it was delayed and echoed around the room. Erik looked at me in wide eye disbelief. I smiled slightly at him.

"We know you're there! Show yourself!" The woman called, her voice was a stern as she looked.

"Yourselves." Another voice said quietly from behind the two. Raoul turned around in time to see Firmin cautiously walk into the room, a rather petrified look on his face. "There are two ghosts."

"Two?" The woman asked, nearly dropping the lantern. Her voice cracked and tears seemed to well up in her eyes. Raoul looked at her with great concern while Firmin nodded gravely.

"Good monsieur I bid you welcome, did you think I was alone?" Erik's voice boomed off the walls, I could hear ballet rats scream from the dormitories. I nearly bucked over with silent laughter at the look on Raoul's face. Erik elbowed me and I regained composure, this was really too much fun.

"Say something." Erik breathed into my ear. I nodded, hoping I would come up with something.

"Nothing could be more pleasant, than being with someone who cares. While nothing could be more horrific, than an idiot who stares!" I said, laughing at the end at the look on Raoul's face. I couldn't help it. Erik smiled genuinely.

A vague look of remembrance washed over Raoul's face, replaced by sheer terror. "I know that voice." Raoul stammered. I felt the warmth drain from my body.

"A voice you do not know, confused with other persons?" I sang in the same tune Erik had used earlier.

"Jessica?" Raoul asked uncertainly.

"Track down this mystery, she must be found!" My voice boomed though the theatre, the warm bubbly feeling returned.

"Look where your heart directs you." I said normally, dropping the song. I nearly fell off the catwalk with laughter as Raoul turned around.

The woman nearly fainted and Firmin ran out of the theatre, waiting until he was out before he could scream. Erik vibrated with laughter beside me and I felt a smile creep up to my lips.

"We should do this more often." I said quietly, watching Erik drop his letter. The woman's eyes lit and she ran, grabbing it before it hit the ground. She probably looked up, but I wouldn't have known considering Erik and I had stood and ran silently off the scaffolding before anyone would come to investigate.

"I think so, too." Erik murmured, hugging me into the shadows when Firmin ran by, followed by some ballet rats.

I returned the embrace by hugging Erik's arms before wearily letting go when Erik slipped away, leaving me in the shadows alone.

* * *

"Ready?" Erik asked Kerry as we slipped into the boat. It had been five days since Erik had left me alone in the hallways of the opera, and the production of Hannibal was tonight. Kerry had a part with the chorus girls. Kerry nodded next to me, already in her costume. She had come down to receive my graces before the performance. I still didn't know how Erik planned to get the two of us seats, especially after the stunt we pulled on Firmin and Raoul.

It was only a matter of time before we reached one of Erik's entrances. I hadn't used it, but I recognized the dusty unused room it opened to. I remembered the first day I met Raoul, when I had been parading through the opera house. I loved exploring giant elaborate buildings, and considering how hard it was to come by those, it was like Christmas had come early.

"Good luck!" I whispered to Kerry one last time as she ran out towards backstage. She turned and waved soundlessly as she slipped out the door, closing it gently.

I smiled slightly. I had outfitted in a more formal dress this evening, completely black with black lace. It was long sleeved, with the ends stopping at my wrist. Lace extended from the end of the sleeve and wrapped around my middle finger. It was long but only brushed the ground, as if it was tailored specifically for me. I was wearing my onyx and ruby choker again with a matching ring and shoes. This was probably one of my favorite outfits so far. Kerry had insisted that she curled my hair, and soft black ringlets bounced over my eyes.

I turned to Erik only to see him looking around the room, anywhere but at me. I cleared my throat loudly and nodded towards the door. He rushed past me and stepped out, consumed in shadows. I followed silently, pressed against the wall to keep from being seen. Erik never left my side until we past the familiar box doors. He stopped in front of one that had a number '5' above it. I looked at him curiously before he grew impatient. He angrily gestured towards the room, making sure he didn't leave the shadows. I nodded my understanding and stepped out into the candlelight.

Erik grabbed my wrist gently, turning me to face him. I could barely see him, save for the candles flickering across his eyes.

"Wear it." Erik said in a hushed voice, placing something cold in my hand. He vanished into the darkness and my senses told me he was gone. I took my hand from the shadows only to see a cool, porcelain, full face mask. It stopped just above my mouth but looked perfect to the last angle. I brushed my hand across it's leather, soft and satiny to the touch. The craftsmanship was irreplaceable. It must have taken weeks to make on its own. It was half white half red wine colored. A thin pattern ran down the red side, mirroring the one on my choker. It was such a nice gesture. I raised it up to my face, pressing it against it only to find it was a perfect fit. Erik was always amazing at guessing, I supposed he had been planning this for a while.

It felt a little awkward at first, but I quickly grew accustomed to it. I slowly opened the door to the box only to find it empty. I smiled despite myself. It turned into a small frown instantly though. Erik wouldn't be watching with me. I knew he would be watching, but not by my side at least.

I mentally shrugged and sat on the soft velvet of a seat. I sighed quietly but contently nonetheless and crossed my legs, clasping my hands on my lap. I was half covered in shadow, I knew that. But a few people that glanced up towards my box would see me and scream, running out of the room. Suddenly, this happened much more frequent than one individual every so often. Groups of people would yelp and run. A few boxes ahead of me I saw the managers, looking around at the half full theater. Raoul was with them, I mentally noted, I would talk to him after the opera.

Andre and Firmin looked rather jumpy and kept glancing around. The opera wasn't to start for several more minutes and I slouched down somewhat, twiddling my thumbs in my lap.

Raoul stood up, saying something to the managers. I cursed my inability to read lips for a third time, then at least I would know where Raoul was going.

I sat staring at the stage, becoming quite bored. I glanced down at the pocket watch I had taken out of a concealed pocket in my dress. The opera should have started a while ago, I looked towards the managers box. Andre and Firmin looked completely relaxed, talking to each other as if content actually. I heard questioning murmurs from the audience. I leaned forward a bit, placing my hands on my knees and scowled when I saw the orchestra had stopped warming up. I felt my anger fuel as the curtains stay closed.

"What is taking so long!?" I hissed to myself, standing and walking towards the door. I flung it open violently, becoming rather frustrated. I really wanted to see Kerry perform on stage.

"Gack!" A familiar voice cried as the door made contact with something. I heard the crunch of breaking bone and pulled the door back at once, partially shielding myself from whomever I had just hit.

Raoul looked up at me, pain in his eyes at first. That pain quickly transformed into confusion and then terror.

"The opera ghost!" Raoul cried. Footsteps came closer and I spent no time in dashing out. Today, sadly, as not my lucky day. I cursed inwardly as Raoul grabbed my foot, causing me to topple over. I groaned softly when my stomach lurched, hitting the floor was never a polite experience for my teenage body. I rolled over, clutching the side of my head. I refused to open my eyes ever when I heard the running footsteps cease.

"T-there is another ghost." I heard a familiar female voice say. I cracked open my eyes to see the stern woman from before, Raoul, Andre and Firmin all staring at my disheveled form. I felt a stabbing pain come from my ribs but I pushed the bruise aside, I had much more pressing matters to attend to. I did the only thing I thought of at the moment, propped myself up on my elbows and glared at them all. I knew the odds of escaping, and they were very slim.

"Who are you?" Raoul asked, sword pointing at my neck. I closed my eyes and scoffed at him, opening them only to find the sword closer.

"What? How? How are you here?" The stern woman asked, bending down so she was closer to my face. She store at my mask and I felt a sudden unfamiliar jolt of anger surge through me.

"I've always been." I felt myself saying before I knew the words were out. The woman physically recoiled and stood back up.

"Get the police." Andre muttered to Firmin. He nodded and turned. I flared my leg out to trip him, using the time to rear up and sprint away. I heard Raoul's footsteps follow me, but I was beyond caring. I ran harder and faster than ever before, up stairs and before I knew it, I was on the roof.

I stopped in the center, dress fluttering around me. My hair waved in the breeze and I squeezed my eyes tight. I felt Raoul's hand on my shoulder before I was jerked around, forced to face him. His nose hadn't broken, thank goodness, but had started to bleed slightly.  
"Who are you?!" Raoul demanded, drawing his sword once again.

I took in a deep breath, staring into his baby blue eyes. Something inside him snapped apparently, because the sword dropped from his hand. It clanged to the ground and before I could think of anything else, I kicked it, sending it over the edge. Perhaps it was mere coincidence, or perhaps it was fate when the sword toppled over the same ledge I had pushed Raoul off. His wide eyes followed it as I kicked it across the roof. He looked back at me, memories flaring in his eyes.

"I knew you were Jessica." He muttered, lip twitching slightly, words breaking. I felt a tear escape my right eye.

"No," I whispered, looking him in the eyes again. "I'm not Jessica anymore." Before I knew what was happening I flung my arms around his neck, pressing my lips to his. He started stepping back but I refused to let go. I simply refused. I felt bile rise up my throat again but pushed it down. I was going to push Raoul off this roof if it was the last thing I did.

What I didn't expect was for Raoul to try to kiss me back. I felt my eyes grow wide and I stopped moving him towards the edge for a moment. I tried to ignore him and kept moving. I hated doing this. I hated lying to Raoul for Erik. Of course, this was all apart of my twisted plan in getting rid of Raoul.

'Get close to Raoul, kill Raoul, and return to Erik.' I repeated over and over in my mind. I broke away from him suddenly, not able to proceed with my plan. I hugged myself tightly, not able to prevent the tears that flowed new from my eyes.

I heard the door to the roof open, and the footsteps that followed.

"Arrest her." I heard Firmin order.

"Wait!" Raoul intervened. "She has done no wrong."

"The accidents!" Andre pressed.

"Where not committed by her, the opera ghost executed those crimes."

"And terrorizing the ballet rats?" Firmin challenged.

"Talking to some over jumpy girls is hardly a crime, you can't arrest someone for being creepy."

"The salary?"

"What salary?" My voice broke and I took in a shuttered breath trying to cease the flow of tears.

"She isn't paid, the phantom is!"

"I am a phantom!" I cried, flinging my hands up into the air. Raoul gave me a pointed look. "But I'm from a different time and place! But I'm not a murderer! I'm not a criminal! And I'm not the opera ghost!"

My words hung in the air for a moment. The police grew bored after a while and left, leaving a very stunned Raoul, Andre and Firmin in their wake.

"Then leave." Firmin demanded.

"No!" I cried. "You don't understand! I love it here! I actually belong for the first time in my life! No one has ever loved me before, or given me what I truly wanted until now! I need music! I need compassion! I need companionship! I need this!" I raged, unable to stop the persistent taint of tears. I knew they were visible, in my words, in my eyes, but not behind my mask.

A very long silence filled after that.

"Leave." Andre said, obviously trying to keep his voice steady. I screamed in rage and proceeded to finish what I had started. I moved towards Raoul and made to push him off. I felt a cold leather gloved hand on my shoulder and I froze.

"I demand you let her stay. I'll make sure she stays out of trouble." Erik's dark voice completed the scene.

Andre made a weary sound before sprinting down the stairwell, quickly followed by Firmin.

"I'm sorry." Raoul said softly. Erik's hand pressed harder down on my shoulder.

"I don't need your pity. I wasn't beaten until I bled for my insecurities. I didn't haunt your brother's dreams with my face for weeks, I wasn't shunned and shamed into solitude, I wasn't heart broken by you!" I whispered harshly, placing my hand above the one on my shoulder. "I'm not even deformed!" My free hand ripped the elegant mask off. I clutched onto it like a life line, exposing my tear stained face.

"No," Raoul muttered, stepping closer to me. "I'm sorry I got the managers. I shouldn't have done that to you."

"I don't care. I'll only be punished for your actions. It's not like I have feelings or anything."

"I'm quite aware of your feelings." Raoul muttered, stepping closer yet again. I shivered underneath Erik's grasp and he clutched on harder. I winced slightly in pain.

"I don't like you." I said dumbly. I sounded like a child. Raoul's eyes seemed to shatter with those four words.

"I do, and so as long as you're going to stay here, you're going to have to deal with me." He placed a chaste kiss on my cheek before striding back down the stairs, leaving Erik and I alone.

"So," Erik said softly, breathing into my ear. "you're a phantom as well, now?"

I swallowed sharply, placing the mask back on my face. I felt my eyelids droop and my legs began to shake slightly. I collapsed back against Erik, suddenly feeling incredibly drained and tired.

"You know it." I breathed, sighing deeply. My lips tingled and I felt my senses snap awake. My eyes opened wide and I touched my fingers to my lips. I was suddenly glad for the mask as I felt a fierce blush rise to my cheeks.

I had kissed Raoul.

I knew there was no meaning behind it, it was all to distract him while I finished the job. But I couldn't deny it. I had kissed Raoul. My first kiss, nonetheless. It didn't feel anything like Kerry had described it. My heart didn't soar into my throat, only bile did, and my eyes didn't flutter closed while I was swept off into bliss. It felt cold and forceful, and yet, there was a lingering fact I couldn't deny any more than what I had just done.

Raoul had tried to kiss me back.

* * *

OH MY GOODYGOODNESS.

I always kinda liked this chapter. I'm not really sure why. Whatever.

REVIEWS ARE LOVED. SO MUCH.

VIRTUAL COOKIES TO LADYSPINDLE AND PHANTOMS LIL WAFFLE 3


	8. Chapter 8

eehehehheheheheeeee

It's Wednesday, you know what that means!

UPDATEEE

Okay, so, this isn't exactly a slash. But you know. Implied shit and yadda yadda yadda.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize.

Enjoy.

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Chapter Eight

Secrets Secrets…

"I feel dreadful." Erik murmured when I knocked on the cold stone. My fingers burned with the sensation but I ignored it the best I could. It had been a few days since the night I was chased up to the roof. Kerry had been hired as a full time ballerina, so far only Raoul knew Jessica Beauregard was the 'Phantess'. Erik had reported my new nickname to me at dinner earlier today. Rumors and gossip spread like wildfire at the opera and it wasn't long before the ballet rats had composed all these sick twisted stories of how I was either a defenseless girl being held captive by the phantom, being forced to do his bidding, or an evil witch tormented by darkness, living as the phantom's bride. I had been soon labeled as the 'Phantess of the opera', or the 'ghost's bride'. I remembered laughing when Erik announced this, feeling the irony of Erik being my supposedly dead husband from Germany sink in. Kerry had, of course, encouraged the rumors, in my best interest of course. Not only were the rumors deathly needed, but they were quite entertaining. One story was I was apparently not a ghost, but an old witch with a humpback and a crooked nose covered in warts. In this story, I captured ballet rats and handed them over to Erik, where he would kill them, erect them, and train them to be his 'ghost goonies'. Kerry had, apparently, made this one up herself. I was wondering if I should make an appearance, something small, just to throw them more off track.

I rolled my eyes and pushed back the drape that hung over what I knew to be the entrance to Erik's room.

It was incredibly dark and I squinted, futilely looking for something. I noiselessly walked through the room, scratching my bare feet on the stone floors. My shins collided with something hard and wooden. I bent down and felt my fingers grip around the edge of something. A wooden plank, polished on one end, fitted with tattered and worn velvet on the inside. My hands traveled downwards into what I later suspected to be a fairly large box, large enough to fit a person inside I supposed.

I gasped and my hands shot up to my mouth, covering it harshly. My eyes grew wide and I took a few steps back. I heard a slight moving sound and nearly screamed when Erik struck a match and lit a candle.

My suspicions were right, Erik was, indeed, sleeping in a coffin. He flicked the match away and propped up on one elbow, eyeing me suspiciously. We store at each other for around ten minutes in an awkward silence. Erik opened his mouth to explain, but shut it a few times when he couldn't think of anything to say.

"Y-you didn't tell me you slept in a coffin." I breathed, lowering my hands slowly. Erik was dressed in a loose very baggy shirt made of thin cotton by the looks of it. I was an expert on cotton. I felt my eyes roll back up to his face when I noticed he was also wearing very tight black pants.

"It wasn't something you needed to know." Erik said plainly, lying back down. "I'm tired, go to bed."

"It's only ten o'clock." I said, inwardly smirking when the grandfather clock started ringing down the hall.

"We, my dear, are phantoms. We think and feel alike. When I'm happy, you're happy, when I'm sad, you're sad, when I'm tired and want to sleep, you're tired and want to go to sleep." Erik murmured, covering his eyes with a hand. I snorted.

"No wonder you're tired, that looks dreadfully uncomfortable. Why don't you sleep in my bed tonight?" I said, blabbing out words before thinking. I felt my cheeks redden as my teenage mind went places it usually did not go. "I mean, sleep, you know? Nothing but sleeping." I said hurriedly, hoping to fix my mistake. Erik smirked when he caught my slip.

He uncovered his eyes, looking at me uncertainly. I placed my hands on my hips. "It's really a wonder how you're so flexible, that coffin must make you so stiff." I said, taking his hand and pulling him up. I felt my cheeks stain scarlet at the mention of 'flexible' right after using the words 'sleep' 'in' 'my' 'bed'.

"Cherry I-" Erik started. I pressed a finger over his lips.

"I insist." I said, pulling him out of the coffin slowly. Kerry had been staying up in the dormitories, leaving Erik and I plenty of time to 'bond'.

Our conversations were usually along the lines of. "How was your day?" "Cold." "Wonderful, same as mine." Or: "Cherry, pick up that piece of paper." "No." "I said, .Up." "Nah." "DAMN YOU CHILD!"

Erik stumbled behind me, probably because of his 'extreme tiredness'. I stepped into my room, not bothering to hold open the curtain and giggling slightly when Erik groaned as he pried it from his face.

"Come on." I said, tugging on his hand gently when he stopped walking. I saw his eyelids droop at the sight of the bed. I wondered how long it had been since he slept comfortably.

After a few minutes of coaxing we were finally both in the bed, under the covers, each on the exact opposite edge, nearly falling off.

"Goodnight, Erik." I said, closing my eyes.

"Finally." Erik murmured, voice faint and half with me. I scoffed slightly before drifting off into a much needed rest.

My eyes opened slowly, relishing in the way I felt warm and comfortable. I closed them slowly again, nudging into the heat. I felt my forehead connect with something, and my eyes opened again only to find Erik's face very close to mine. I slowed my breathing quickly, as to not disturb him. Feigning sleep, I regained consciousness enough to feel Erik's arm encircling my waist protectively, hugging me closer to him. I wiggled my fingers slightly and became aware of my arm being draped over Erik in a similar fashion.

Erik murmured slightly in his sleep and twisted his head a little, lurching forward slightly. I gasped inwardly when I felt something rather hard dig into my stomach. Erik was obviously having a rather happy dream.

Well, that was the understatement of the year.

I tried to stay as still as possible, holding my breath.

Erik whimpered, tears leaking from his eyes. He shivered beneath my limp grasp and I swallowed shallowly. He suddenly groaned quite loudly, pulling me closer to him. I felt my stomach constrict and I tried to pull away. Any further and I would be under him.

I physically recoiled, trying to slug out of his grasp and inching downward until his arm was no longer around me. He only clutched me tighter and I groaned miserably. Full of defeat.

I noticed Erik's mouth was moving slightly as if trying to speak. I, again, silently cursed my inability to read lips.

"Ra-" Erik breathed, his finger nails dug into my back. "Raoul."

I gasped loudly, shutting my eyes quickly and breathing deeply once again, hoping I didn't wake Erik.

I felt his breath evening out on my face, and his arms shift. He sprung away quickly, breath speeding up. I opened my eyes drearily, as if just waking up.

"What?" I asked, yawning deeply. Erik didn't reply, instead he stood quickly and practically ran out of the room. Once he was gone, I opened my eyes wider than I knew they would go.

Erik wanted Raoul.

Maybe even loved Raoul. I thought about the night I had kissed Raoul, I remembered when Erik's grip tightened further when Raoul had kissed me on the cheek and the way his breathing stopped suddenly. It was all so small, yet all so big.

I chuckled softly, the situation dawning on me. Erik thought he loved Christine, when he was really jealous of Christine for being so close to Raoul. Now he was jealous of me and he knew it. He knew he wanted Raoul.

If I were any other girl, I wouldn't be able to control myself, telling Kerry to tell everyone she knew. But I, alas, was not normal enough to enjoy gossip. After years of it being about me I downright hated gossip. I couldn't put Erik through any more pain.

I would keep Erik's crush a secret. One thing worried me, and one thing alone though about this plan.

How long before Erik found out I was keeping secrets?

He knew everything about the opera house. I reminded myself, replaying his words in my head.

"I hear, see, and know everything that happens in this opera house."

I smirked though, remembering what happened next in that particular conversation.

"Then why didn't you help me when Raoul nearly saw me in the shadows?"

"I only hear when I am listening."

I prayed to god that Erik didn't care enough to listen to me. Sometimes I got that impression that he could read my thoughts. It was very disconcerting. I silently promised myself I wouldn't think of it, just in case he did.

In fact I could probably play along to this, make him care for Raoul even more. Anything to get him to stop yelling at me.

"Come wander, with me love. Come wandering with me. Away from this sad world, come wander with me." I sang loud enough for Erik to hear me, no matter how far into the labyrinth he was. "I know that you don't care, for he who you don't see. But maybe you, my sweet Raoul, could stare and care for me."

I smirked when I heard a small crash followed by Erik cursing when I sang my made up verse.

Playing with people was more fun than should be allowed.

* * *

Okay.

This was really short.

Maybe I will update in a couple of days rather than next Wednesday.

Reviews are loved!


	9. Chapter 9

DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN ANYTHING YOU RECOGNIZE.

Okay, so I decided to post this for two reasons:

One, it's insanely short.

Two, I want to see if anyone can guess what story this little chapter is based around, because you'll see a lot more of these particular characters later. (hint hint)

Also, this is actually my most recent piece of work done with this book, so, in my opinion, it's the best work in this story so far. It isn't the most recent chapter, however. I've written up to chapter 24 as of now. (but I'm going to make you wait because I'm such a cruel person muhahaha)

Well,

ANYWAYS.

I just wanted to thank everyone for all of the incredible feedback.

You guys make my life complete.

Enjoy.

* * *

Chapter Nine

Unwanted Visitors

* * *

Pure and utter chaos erupted behind me and I sighed, turning around in the shadows and surveying the staff of the opera house who were busy tying up sandbags and whatnot.

Tonight the house was full, and music from the favorite Don Giovanni was ringing through the opera house above me.

I had decided to visit the staff who work under the stage throughout the entire performance for once.

I stood, covered in shadows, unmoving and silent. I store at the scene around me, feeling a smile creep across my lips behind my mask. The opera was really a well oiled machine, and I felt slightly pained upon realizing that Erik and I weren't efficient parts of it, but rather destructive.

A man whom I had never seen before was leaning against a wall directly across from me, puffing on what appeared to be a self rolled cigarette. He had sharp, beady eyes, and a scruffy golden beard. His head was covered by a cap, partially shielding his eyes.

He definitely wasn't an employee.

He appeared to be the only man who wasn't working, though.

He must be waiting for someone...I thought. I shrugged mentally. No matter. I decided to let history take its course. So what if not confronting the strange man led to dire consequences? So what if it led to the death of a few people, whom I didn't know. It was better that I didn't get involved. Besides, what if he were here on friendly terms? Unlikely. The smoke smells odd, not a normal cigarette. Not normal tobacco. This man traveled. Perhaps he was a sailor. Perhaps he was a soldier. His eyes were calculating, quick, seeing everything and zeroing in on the bustle effortlessly. The eyes of a sniper.

"You know, they say gray eyed men make the best snipers." I said, not really knowing what had possessed me to speak up. The man blinked a few times, his eyes widening.

"Alright, who's there?" He asked, his eyes narrowing,

I opened my mouth to answer when a train of unfamiliar faces walked between the man and I. The leader, seeming determined and more confident than the less, walking at a brisk pace.

This is...odd.

The man walking behind him, looking tired and worn out but obviously relying and trusting the man ahead of him.

A woman, shorter than I, was last in line, and I felt my blood boil at the sight of her.

"Gypsy." I spat, and the woman froze, staring straight ahead of her.

The man directly before her slowed down, looking behind him and gesturing to her. After a few seconds, the gypsy continued walking, her eyes flashing around nervously.

The mysterious sniper was scowling at the band of unfamiliar guests before taking a puff on his cigarette and walking away, completely silent.

I sighed, and, curiosity peaked, crept in the direction of the others. I felt my skin tingle as I heard someone's jaw snap, followed by rustling and struggling.

Sure enough, the staff were attempting to confront the visitors, but to no avail.

The man with near raven colored hair, who was still leading the band of guests, was simply ignoring the staff, where as the man behind him was beating the life out of the employees who were attempting to stop them.

I shrugged and walked out of the shadows, knowing no one would pay attention to me with that commotion.

The first man was climbing up into the bottom of the trapdoor which had been converted into something akin to an elevator shaft to fit the production of Don Giovanni.

I frowned and knit my eyebrows together.

_Is he completely insane?_ I thought, shaking my head lightly and sighing.

A few minutes later, he turned, probably sensing me as I store at him.

We made eye contact.

He looked exhausted, unshaven stubble covering his chin and jaw, bags beneath his round, chocolate colored eyes. His hair was wavy and tollused.

He didn't seem disconcerted with my presence at all, though, which I found rather puzzling. He blinked a few times, and realizing I wasn't going to say anything, climbed up onto the stage from beneath the elevated platform.

I sighed once again and turned, walking back towards the shadows.

_What a peculiar man..._

* * *

__Short and sweet.

Reviews are loved, and I'm baking virtual chocolate chip cookies for everyone to express my gratitude.


	10. Chapter 10

Did I forget to update last night? I forgot to update last night.

Where have all my pretty reviewers gone? I miss you!

* * *

Chapter Ten

Without Pain We Fall

* * *

"Come on, I want to show you something." Raoul took my hand from the shadows, pulling me gently until I came into the light. I was in my favorite room of the opera, the unused room filled with dust and piles of furniture covered in musty tarps. I was wearing black as usual along with my mask. My dress was sleeveless, but I was wearing tailored opera lace.

"Is it colorful?" I asked dryly. Raoul smiled and shook his head, dragging me across the dust coated floor.

"Well, to you perhaps. But it's rather old." Raoul stopped in front of a rather large piece, covered entirely in a musty tarp. Raoul pulled the tarp away, revealing a grand piano.

My mouth hung open. I took a few steps towards it, wiping dust off the shimmering black coat. I could see my reflection in the glossy surface.

"Raoul," I swallowed. "this is beautiful." I ran my fingers over the keys lightly.

Raoul chuckled and placed a hand on my shoulder. "Play it?" He asked, a little too sweetly for my taste. I nodded in half understanding, too enthralled in the soft keys to really pay attention to him. I sat on a dusty bench and chose a song.

"Come wander with me, love. Come wandering with me. Away from this sad world, come wander with me." I took in a deep breath as I struck the chords. "I knew that you loved me, but I can't say the same. The days are late, come face our fates, for only you know my name."

"So come wander with me, love. Come wandering with me. Away from this sad world, come wandering with me." Raoul sang quietly, sitting beside me. "I still care, you know that. I have and always will. No matter how much you hate me, I love you forever still."

I stopped, stood, and took Raoul's hand before slowly disappearing into the shadows alone.

"You will come back?" Raoul asked the darkness. I smirked and decided to try throwing my voice behind Raoul, just as Erik had shown me.

"Of course I will," I replied casually. Raoul jumped and spun around, inching backwards into the shadows. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, chuckling softly into his ear.

"Great, I have the most interesting idea." Raoul showed his signs of early blabbing. I rolled my eyes, not wanting to listen to him rant.

"Interesting, can't wait to hear all about it." I moved away from him, silently walking, secluded in shadows until I reached one of the many secret entrances to the fifth cellar.

I had been wandering around the opera aimlessly for quite a while now. Raoul and I had some sort of structure between us, a friendship of sorts. I had been spotted a few times, by ballet rats, the managers, and the stern woman who I now know to be Madame Giry. She was the ballet instructor.  
I crept through the dark cavernous walls until I came to another entrance, right below the stage. Rehearsal wouldn't be starting for another ten minutes and I had a good chance to slip up into a hollow pillar off to the left of the stage to watch.

Erik had been wandering out at random times of the day, not telling me where he was going. Sometimes it was after performances, others it was, well, during random times of the day. He really seemed to have no schedule. The only scheduled thing about it was the tunnel he chose to go down. It was always the same, and he would always return from it, as well.

I propped the trap door open, glad to see the theatre was deserted. I pushed it upwards, jumping out quickly. I was around halfway to the pillar Erik had informed me about when I paused.

I had never sung on stage, although it had always been a dream of mine, ever since I was six. I took off my mask, shivering when I felt a soft summer breeze tickle across my uncovered face.

"I don't know if You can hear me, or if You're even there. I don't know if you would listen, to a ghost's prayer. Yes, I know I'm just an outcast. I shouldn't speak to you. Still I see Your face and wonder, were You once an outcast too?" I began the first half of the song I had been practicing. Erik was very particular at either how fit I was, or how much I practiced my voice. He wouldn't allow it to become misused again. "God help the outcast, hungry from birth. Show him the mercy, he doesn't find on earth. Him of all people, looks to you still. God help the outcast, or nobody will."

I took in a deep breath, hoping I wasn't singing too loudly. "I ask for nothing, I can get by. But I know another, less lucky than I. Please help the outcast, poor and downtrod. I thought we were, all children of God. God help the outcast, child of God."

"You!" I heard a familiar voice call. My eyes widened and I felt my heart rate pick up speed. I didn't turn around I dashed off the stage in a matter of seconds, gracefully leaping over instruments as I ran through the orchestras ditch. I sprinted up the aisle, clutching my mask to my chest. I flung open one of the main doors to the theatre, turning slightly only then. "Stop, please!"

"Over my dead body." I murmured, tying my mask to my stocking beneath my skirt discreetly.

"We would hate to remedy that." Another familiar voice said. I took a step back, looking up to see Firmin. Andre, panting from behind me, had apparently just run from the stage in my pursuit.

"Messieurs," I said formally, curtseying slightly. The two exchanged weary looks.

"Mademoiselle Beauregard, correct? Friends with the ballerina Hoch?" Andre asked from behind me.

"The same." I said, narrowing my eyes slightly. Something was off about this.

"Delightful as it is to see you, it seems we have just lost our star, Mademoiselle Daae. Kidnapped unfortunately. We have another prima donna, though, and your talents are, not needed." Firmin stated rather tartly. I looked him in the eye.

"I can assure you, Monsieur, I was not here hoping to get a job. My current occupation is more than enough stress. I was simply hoping to meet with Kerry, rather private family business has occurred, after practice. The stage, alas, is very tempting…" I trailed off.

"Are you aware of the opera ghost?" Andre asked suddenly behind me. I nearly scoffed, covering it with a slight cough.

"Excuse me, I must be coming down with something…Yes I have heard of the infamous opera ghost, why do you ask? Has something happened to Kerry?" I played convincing mock concern in my words, seeming to become more and more frantic.

"No, no. Mademoiselle Hoch is doing excellently. It seems there is, another ghost. Rumored to be as wicked as himself." Firmin tapped the tips of his fingers together, looking off to my left.

"Another ghost? Pray, Monsieur, do tell." I said, sounding quite interested.

"That is not for public ears." Andre muttered from behind me.

"Oh," I tried to sound disappointed. "well, lives to get back to." I said calmly, making to stride past Firmin. He raised a hand and blocked me from exit.  
"Well, actually, we think we know who the ghost's accompanist is." Firmin said quietly.

"Tell us, Mademoiselle, what is your occupation again?" Andre asked, his voice closer.

"Y-you can't, you're not serious!" I cried, covering my ears. "You think it's me? You're mad!"

"We know it's you!" Firmin shouted suddenly, causing me to back up into Andre, who quickly grasped my wrists.

"Let go of me you creeps!" I screeched. "You're insane!" I thrashed mildly, hoping to seem rather weak in front of them. If anything, I wanted to appear to be as different from myself as possible.

"We're sorry, truly we are. But we can't have you in the opera house. Now that it is affirmative that you and the ghost are both human, the ghost will be brought to court, declared guilty, and executed for his crimes." Firmin said quietly. I bit my lip, blood trickling from it. Tears welled up in my eyes.

"What will become of me?" I asked, choking on every word. To seem more concerned with myself around the managers was probably the best way out.

"Considering you have not committed any said crimes, you will be forbidden from entering the opera again." Andre said, letting go of my wrists when I stopped struggling.

"You've caught me, I will stay out of your damned cursed opera house! But if you think the ghost is human you're sorely mistaken!" I cried, putting an effective amount of bite into each syllable. "I may be human, but you're opera ghost is entirely that! A demon! He isn't human at all, he's a monster! A dead, unforgiving, corrupt, twisted, evil entity. You need an exorcist!"

A long pause followed my words, only broken by my now dry sobs.

"Why did you come here?" Andre asked suddenly, letting my wrists go slack. I buried my face in my hands, crying softly into them.

"I'm sorry!" I screamed to the ceiling. "Please-don't kill me!" I started gagging on my own words, falling to my knees.

"Good Lord, Andre, get a paramedic!" Firmin knelt down and rested a hand on my shoulder. I froze, making my body go limp. My nose crunched atop the floor and I felt blood seeping into my eyes. A metallic taste filled my mouth and the stabbing pain coming from my face told me my nose had broken.

"It's no use, he will win in the end. The phantom always gets what he wants." I breathed after Firmin had rolled me over. I clutched my hands into fists, my knuckles turned white. I heard Andre re-enter the room.

I was vaguely aware of the screams coming from the stage. I sat up abruptly, clutching my hands over my ears, screaming on my own. I was petrified. Erik was angry. I knew it. I could feel it.

I kept screaming, long, ear shattering piercing wail after the next until I was out of air. I collapsed on the ground, chest heaving, eyes wide open. Feeling it the appropriate time to scare everyone, I started laughing.

Manically. It all felt very macabre.

I tasted the salty mix of tears and blood in my mouth, and paused laughing to lick the remnants of the fluids off my lips. I stood up suddenly, leaning a bit to one side.

"Come and see the devil's child, learn of tortures cruel and wild. Come and see the plague of dreams, listen to the dead man's screams! Wail and cry they won't stop their fury, where are you going? I'm not in any hurry! Come and hear the ghostly wails, watch your children's faces pale. If you can see the pain, come to me and scream your name!" I choked on the last part. I loved making up songs, this acting thing was all too fun. I felt tears stream down my cheeks as I walked towards one of the managers shakily, stretching my arms out blindly. My fingers shook and itched, posing in grotesque positions. I smiled and started laughing again, a murderous laugh. Tainted with screams and tears.

"Come and see the devil's child…" I breathed, my voice going higher as if I were a young girl. I sounded six again. "Don't call the asylum." I barked when I heard a footstep to my left.

I was yanked backwards, spine creaking, lungs stretching. A hand pulled me to my knees from behind, digging finger nails into my shoulder.  
"If you don't stop this madness we will be forced to call the authorities!" Firmin raged behind me.

"No Firmin, remember your blood pressure!" Andre cried. I heard shuffling but didn't open my eyes. My lips parted, hoping to find oxygen.

"Let me at him! This is all his fault!" Firmin yelled in response. "Dash my blood pressure!"

I felt arms encircle me angrily, and the familiar jolt of running that followed. It became cold and silent. I opened my eyes, only to find Erik was clutching onto me tightly.

Erik dropped me onto the floor, I cried out softly when I hit it, wincing when the rock stabbed into my side. I sat up, mussing my already messy skirts. I gagged suddenly, breathing in what remained of a smoke bomb.

"This can't be good for my asthma." I gagged, wrapping a hand around my throat and massaging it gently. I opened my eyes wider, realizing what I had just done. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry Erik, I just-" Erik cut me off.

"This is all your fault, just leave me alone…" Erik started walking away. I stood, planning to follow him. "Don't follow me!" Erik yelled, stomping on my foot. I yelped in unsuspecting pain, grabbing it. I hissed slightly, but looked up into Erik's eyes pleadingly.

"Why would you do that? How did you know that song?!" Erik begged, grabbing the front of my dress and picking me up, shaking me rather violently. My nose tingled and I placed a hand on it gingerly. I moved it back into place with a sickening crunch, only wincing slightly when I did so, though.

"You sing it in your sleep." I breathed, new tears filling my eyes. Erik dropped me for the second time in a short while. "It was unfair."

"Don't tell me the difference between what is fair and what is not! I should know!" Erik screamed, kicking me in the ribs. I groaned and clutched myself, biting my lip once again.

"Erik?" A familiar voice echoed off the stone walls. "Are you alright?"

"Antoinette…" Erik trailed off, sounding rather surprised. My eyes widened.

"You two know each other?" I asked between raspy breaths. Madame Giry stepped into my field of view, looking horrified.

"You look positively morbid." She exclaimed, scooping me up in her arms. For such a frail and elderly appearance, she was surprisingly very strong.

"Thank you, I hadn't noticed." I replied dryly. "What on earth are you doing here?"

"I can ask you the same question." Madame Giry said quietly. "Erik, we need to talk." She said gravely, almost angrily. "This abuse must end. Look at the child!"

"She did that herself!" Erik yelled. I heard the turn of his heel and expected Madame Giry to run me to the managers at once.

"You promoted it!" Madame Giry said angrily, taking a step in what I suspected to be Erik's direction. I was incredibly surprised, no one stood up to Erik like this.

"Did you see what she did to me?" Erik asked, tears in his voice. I felt pity, but pushed it aside as I strained to listen. I slipped in and out of consciousness and fought to keep my eyes open.

"As a matter of fact I did not see what she did to you, only what she did to herself! Andre and Firmin have the authorities searching the building for her as we speak. They feel they have a raving mad lunatic running around here. She saved you, actually. She stood up for you!" Madame Giry countered.

"She sang that song! It haunts me, you now that!" Erik screamed, taking a step closer to us. Madame Giry held her ground.

"She sang it, making it true! They aren't looking for you, she risked her own life to save yours after she has done nothing, and you have taken more lives than anyone else I know! If anything you should be thanking her and dressing her wounds!" Madame Giry burst out in almost seething rage. I knew Erik was stubborn, but apparently he needed to be yelled at quite severely before he gave in and swallowed his pride. I made a mental note to use force the next time Erik refused to let me do something.

"Actually, Madame. I am quite capable of surviving on my own. Erik is actually very kind to me. I do not know how to make up the crime I have committed before him today. He saved me from the managers, I am in his debt." I croaked, my throat scratching harshly.

"You don't know what is good for you." Madame Giry said in a hushed voice.

"Make sure she doesn't follow me." Erik snarled. I heard him stomp away. I tried my best to hold back a few more tears. I felt like such a baby, crying so much. I had never cried as much before as I had at the opera house.

"I'll take you to him as soon as we clean you up." Madame Giry said quietly into my ear.

"Thank you, for everything." I said gravely. "I suppose you're right."

"You'll find that I always am." She smiled down at me, I took that as a sign the discussion was over. It didn't take long before I fell unconscious.


	11. Author's Update

Hey guysss

Listen. I know I haven't posted anything in like...two weeks.

I'M SORRY.

PLEASE.

HAVE MERCY.

So, to make up for my absence, I'll post...three chapters?

Would that make you happy?

Reviews are much loved.

Without them, my life is meaningless.

MEANINGLESS, I SAY.

More stories are coming out soon, I promise.

Also, go like my facebook page. I'm posting updates and chapters and other content there from now on.

: / / w w w . / - / 6

You can add me to your watch on DA, too. I'll be posting there if enough people want me to.

: / / .

(just take out the spaces for the urls. You know the drill.)

I love you guyss! :D

I'm handing out free virtual chocolate chip cookies to everyone, just because I love you so much.


	12. Chapter 11

HELLO EVERYONEEE

ENJOY

* * *

Chapter Eleven

The Accident

* * *

"Mmm…go away." I murmured, turning over cupping my hands to my face. My eyes flared open, surprised when bandages covered my head. I panicked. "What's going on?!" I demanded, sitting upright, scratching where the bandaged covered my eyes.

"Shh, hush child. You had an accident, your nose broke." Madame Giry's voice was muffled by the bandages over my ears.

"I know that, where am I?" I asked dumbly, my voice muffled as well. I placed the heels of my palms over my eyes, pressing against the bandages.

"My rooms." Madame Giry replied as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. I heard what sounded like knocking on a wooden door. "I'll be right back, you stay here." I felt rather than heard Madame Giry leave. I could hear faint voices in what I suspected to be the next room before a rather loud patter of footsteps made me turn my head quickly, causing my nose to twist. I groaned, pinching it harshly.

A small chuckle poisoned the silence. "How are you?" A familiar voice asked.

"Raoul," I felt a smile creep to my lips. "horrible, yourself?"

"Shaken, Jessica you were truly terrifying. I went back to the estate after what had happened. Philippe described me as a walking corpse." I felt the weight of someone sitting on the bed by my feet.

"May we not talk about that? It brings me guilt to act in such a barbaric manner." I frowned.

"Of course not, whatever is to your preferral." Raoul said, gently placing a hand on my knee.

"Madame Giry, how do you know Erik?" I asked, knowing Madame Giry was in the room. I could feel her stare.

"Erik? Your husband?" Raoul asked, obviously confused.

"You're married?" Madame Giry sounded quite taken aback.

I shook my head. "No no, that was an alibi. He's not my husband, he's only the opera ghost." I said quickly.

"How ironic." I heard the grin in Raoul's voice. I rolled my eyes behind the bandages.

"Quite, I said the same thing when it was announced to me. Rumors can be so…direly needed at times." I replied thoughtfully, cupping my chin between my thumb and pointer finger.

"You obviously know about the devil's child, if you know that song." Madame Giry said sharply.

"I do." I murmured, a blush rising to my cheeks.

"I brought him here, he has thrived." Madame Giry trailed off.

I nodded my understanding. I had heard enough of his heartbreaking story. Not heartbreaking, melting, shattering. Very pitiful indeed.

"And you?" Madame Giry changed the subject.

I held up a hand. "I am no one."

"No, you're not. Your name is Jessica Beauregard, you're a pianist and an operatic singer. And, you're my friend." Raoul said gently. I shook my head.

"You don't know me." I choked. "Erik sent me to kill you, Raoul." That was all that needed to be said.

Raoul's hand left my knee and he stood up almost instantly.

"But-" I held up my other hand defensively. "Something tells me…that maybe Erik has changed his mind…"

"Damn you Cherry." I heard an all too familiar voice speak from the other side of the room. I smirked behind my bandages and turned my head in that general direction.

"You say the sweetest things." I clasped my hands together and tilted my head slightly.

"I'm sorry." Erik murmured. I chuckled softly.

"You are forgiven…as long as you forgive me."

"It is done." Erik murmured discreetly. I nodded once.

"Can you take these off? It's getting dreadfully stuffy." I asked no one in particular.

"Of course." Madame Giry's hands were unwinding my bandages quickly.

I wrinkled my nose, happy to find it not sting.

"My, your bones heal fast." Raoul commented from my left I looked at him, rather happy at the fact he was still in the room.

"I drink a lot of milk." I chuckled, scratching my collarbone. Erik coughed slightly.

I flung the sheets off of me and swung my legs over the side of the bed.

"Now, if you excuse me, I have business to attend to." I stood and, as casually as possible, stepped out of the door.

"Cherry." Erik murmured, following suit.

"Cherry?" Raoul sounded confused.

"Leave me alone, don't follow me." I ordered, not turning around. Erik sighed dramatically and placed a hand on my shoulder.

"Come on, I have a surprise." Erik murmured. I shook my head a few times. I wasn't much for surprises.

Erik pushed me out the door, only to fall through a trap door in the floor. Erik was quick, though, and grabbed my foot just before my face was about to hit the ground. He set me down gently, I felt his gaze burning into the back of my head as I tried to get up.

"There is a masquerade coming up." Erik breathed into my ear. "A Christmas celebration."

I felt something cold slip into my hands. I grasped onto the new mask in secret delight. I couldn't wait to see it.

"Are you coming?" I asked quickly, probably already knowing the answer.

"Of course." Erik said after a short pause. I breathed out in a sigh of relief. I just couldn't face the managers again, I didn't know the game as well as Erik did.

"Was that the surprise?" I asked in the darkness. Erik placed his hand on my back once again. It had become a familiar touch.

"No," Erik said, sounding amused. "I'm sure you already know what it is."

"I'm afraid I don't."

"I'm afraid you do."

"I'm terrified at the prospect of not knowing something lodged inside the dark cavern that is my tortured noggin."

"I'm shivering at the tone of voice you just used."

"I'm leaking out of your peripheral vision."

"I'm tainting your soul."

"I'm in possession of a secret you may not even know you have, Erik." I stopped walking. Erik was silent for a moment. "You were in love with the idea of being in love. Now, you're really falling in love, for the first time."

"I know that!" Erik hissed. "The question is, how do you know?"

"Remember that night I insisted you slept in my bed?" I asked quietly, walking once again.

"How could I forget? You had me hiding from you for days of embarrassment."

"Then you certainly must remember that dream you were having before you woke?" Erik stopped walking again, his hand becoming very hot.

"This discussion is over, your point is seen." The blush was evident in Erik's voice. I scoffed slightly.

The rest of the walk was silent, not that I minded. Sometimes it was nice just to share Erik's company rather than argue.

Once back in the golden light of Erik's home, I could plainly see the delicate mask I grasped against my chest.

It was a simple mask, yet very elegant in its own way. It was a deep midnight blue, with a black pearl dangling on its forehead. Two smaller diamonds hung on slightly shorter black necklace chains. I ran my fingers over the familiar silky texture.

"This is beautiful, Erik." I said quietly, replacing my other mask with it. I turned to face him. "How do I look?"

"Like I intended you to." Erik said after a while. I frowned.

"Did you intend me to look good?" I asked, more disappointment in my voice than I really felt.

"Of course." Erik murmured, walking over to his organ. He didn't sit, merely stood gazing at it for a few moments. "I have another gift for you." He said quietly after some time. He placed a hand on my shoulder, guiding me through a doorway I wasn't yet aware of.

It was very dimly lit, to say the least. The walls and floors were practically covered with drawings and sheet music. There was a small desk, overflowing with parchment. A small vase, housing one wilted rose, was in peril of toppling over. The one candelabra in the room was half torn apart.

The one half still attached to the wall only had half the candles in it than it would usually hold. The other half, lying on the floor, had broken wax scattered around it. I always knew Erik had anger issues, being bipolar really didn't help manners.

Erik pulled back a darker red drape on the wall across from the doorway.

I gasped. "Erik you didn't have to do this." I murmured. I walked forward slowly, brushing my fingers over a silky dress. It was quite simple, but practically shimmered in the flickering candle light. It matched my new mask quite perfectly.

"Nonsense, I acquired one for Kerry as well." Erik said, dismissing it with a wave of his hand. My smile faltered a bit. I knew I shouldn't be jealous, it was completely selfish, but it was rather hard not to be. I had gotten the feeling that Erik, for once, really cared for me. I was wrong again, as usual.

"I also have a new song for you to practice."

"Wonderful." I said halfheartedly.

"You'll like it." Erik said, noting my distaste.

"I doubt it."

"I doubt that."

"Erik, do I have to?"

"Of course you do, you're going to make quite the appearance at the masquerade."

"What?"

Erik sighed. "You live under my rules, I demand you do as I say."

"…Okay." I murmured, ticking a piece of wax across the parchment covered floor.

"It's been tailored to you." Erik murmured. I looked at him oddly.

"That's too much, Erik. I really don't deserve this. Not after humiliating you in front of them all." I looked down at my feet guiltily.

"It is in the past, you were forgiven. Besides, you can make it up to me by learning this song." Erik placed his hand on my back again and led me out of the room.

"What's the name?" I asked, sitting in my usual chair by the organ.

"Dark Waltz. I wrote it for you." Erik sat down, flipping through songs.

"Really, Erik, you outdid yourself." I said quietly, looking at him with a great deal of concern. "Did something happen?"

"I already told you," Erik replied, pulling a very new looking piece from his many compositions. "I fell in love."

"Of course," I murmured. A long pause fell after that. "What's it like?" I asked dreamily, staring off into the distance.

"What?" Erik asked, pausing his shuffling.

"Seeing a person and feeling your breath be swept away." I explained, voice half earthly.

"Bliss," Erik said after a few minutes, he had stopped searching immediately and his hands had fallen to his sides. "it is unmatched to any other happiness in this world. Nothing is more powerful than the emotion of lust."

"I didn't mean lust, I meant love. Lust is artificial, the last thing you need is to be pushed down again. You need to be lifted up. Lust won't do that for you." I said, looking at Erik sternly.

"Cherry, you're too young to understand." Erik turned to face me, trying to explain. I held a finger up to his lips and hushed him.

"You need someone to love you back." I said quietly, looking him in the eye. Erik sighed beneath my finger.

"That seems more and more impossible with each passing moment." Erik sighed, looking away from me.

"That isn't true," I said, moving so his eyes were still focused on me. "you may not feel the same way, but I love you in a familiar way." I said calmly.

Erik jerked back from my touch.

"Do not lie to me, Cherry. It is very insulting you would do that to my face." Erik turned and proceeded to shuffle through his music. I sighed angrily.

"Look, Erik, whether you like it or not, you're technically my father. I do love you like a daughter should, what more is there I can do?" I pleaded, setting my hand on his forearm. He sighed and looked down at his lap. I scowled at him. He still didn't believe me.

I bent forward, brushing my lips against his cheek. I fully expected Erik to jerk away, maybe even slap me, so I was fully surprised when the only sign he made of contact was letting out another rattled sigh.

"So far, Cherry, things are going much better now than they did last time…" Erik trailed off, staring at the paper in front of him. "I thank you for that."  
"It's nothing." I said, closing my eyes and slumping down in the chair.

"No, it's not nothing. You're helping me," Erik choked. "no one has done that before."

I looked at him sympathetically. "I can say the same."

We sat there silently for quite a while.

"Do you think, two lonely people can stop being lonely together?" I asked after a while. Erik looked me in the eye.

"No, only be lonely together. Loneliness is a curse." Erik said truthfully.

"Then you are blind. I can get him to love you. I can cure loneliness." I said, almost frantically, placing a hand on his knee almost protectively. "You can never stop hoping"

"They broke my hope and spirit long ago." Erik said gruffly, yanking his knee away. I gave him another sympathetic look.

"They can never take your hope away. They can take your home, all your loved ones, they can beat you until you break. They can throw you away. The one thing they can never take is your hope. It's still there, you just need inspiration." I said quietly, staring at his unmasked cheek. He sighed deeply.

"Hope is an illusion, sometimes, people are blinded by hope. They cannot see the severity of their situation." Erik replied, straightening his back.  
"And sometimes people are blinded by the illusion of hopelessness." I said rather loudly. Erik turned and looked me in the eye again. Odd, I couldn't place the color…

Erik sighed again, slouching again. "Prove it."

"I know Raoul likes you." I said proudly. I didn't know if that was true, but I could convince him to do so easily. People like Raoul were so easily manipulated.

Erik looked at me, desperation on his face. "I will try." He breathed. I smirked triumphantly.

"Now, the song…" I murmured, straightening my back. Erik followed suit.

"Of course, here." He handed me the first page. "Practice it, you need to be perfect." He pondered this for a bit. "Shouldn't be too hard."  
"Not with the training I've gotten." I murmured, skimming the lyrics. Erik chuckled softly before turning and leaving me to the song which would soon become my life.

* * *

Review.

Please.

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If you don't.

:)


	13. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

Tea and Other Worrisome Things

* * *

"That's it?" Raoul asked from his spot beside me on the piano bench. I nodded, rearranging the sheet music on the stand.

"I know it's short, I've never been one for really long songs though, they make your head hurt after a while." I said, slouching down slightly.

"You're magnificent at it." Raoul said sympathetically. I scoffed.

"I hate being in the spot light." I mumbled, bowing my head and looking at my hands clasped on my lap.

"You'll be fine." Raoul said offhandedly. "Maybe we can spice it up a bit."

"I'm not really much with acting." I murmured, lowering my eyes to the keys of the piano blankly.

"Nonsense, remember the incident?" Raoul asked quietly. I nodded once.

"Okay," I said after a few minutes of thinking. "what's your idea?"

"Well," Raoul began. "this song, it's a waltz, correct?" I nodded, narrowing my eyes slightly. "Well, doesn't it make sense to waltz to it?"

"I can't dance." I said blankly. Raoul nodded in understanding.

"I can teach you." Raoul murmured. "Here, we can try with a box step."

Raoul stood and carefully drew two small boxes on the dust coated floor. "I would normally do this with some kind of marker, but considering I want you to learn quickly, it's best if you fall in your own steps." Raoul muttered while he drew the two boxes. "Here, stand in the bottom left corner, then step into the bottom right, pivot, and into the top right, repeat." Raoul murmured, watching intently as I stumbled rather ungracefully in my high heels. "Keep at it." Raoul murmured when I paused slightly. I held a hand to my temple.

"I'm getting dizzy." I said dumbly.

"Try going in the opposite direction." Raoul suggested. I nodded in acknowledgement.

Raoul sat at the piano bench, slouching rather ungentlemanly. I continued walking in circles, switching direction every so often. I did it until it felt as natural as walking.

"I'm going back to the estate, goodnight Jessica." Raoul yawned, standing and stretching. Moonlight poured through a high arched window onto much of the dust coated floor. I stopped, nodding and turning into the shadows.

"Goodnight, Raoul." I said quietly. Raoul turned to leave and was halfway out the door when I stopped him. "Thank you."

Raoul store into the shadows for a moment. "You're welcome." He muttered before closing the door quietly behind him. I rolled my shoulders and slipped down the secret entrance. I half box stepped, half sprinted down to Erik's lair, content for the first time in a long time.

I collapsed into the chair next to Erik's organ, smiling toothily. Erik came around the corner looking rather guilty about something. He caught sight of my expression and his aura of guilt morphed into confusion. He smiled sleepily back at me before settling down to help me practice my song.

"One two three, one two three, one two three, one-see, you're a natural!" Raoul commented in my ear rather loudly. I blushed and shrugged, not stopping the dance. Raoul laughed quietly, letting go of my hand. "We'll have to do something slower, oh, and you'll have to lead."

"But that's unheard of." I coupled, pouting slightly.

"So is a sixteen year old girl having the ability to sing like yourself." Raoul countered, placing his hands on his hips. I chuckled softly.

Raoul hadn't given up on my dancing lessons, which had become regular visits now. We had decided to name the room we met in 'the piano room', considering it had a piano in it. It was perfect, plenty of floor space, a piano, and best of all it was unused and secluded.

Sometimes Raoul brought a small lunch with him. I had preferred cheese and warm bread and black berries. Raoul usually shrugged at my pittance, but let me eat the peasant food on the grand piano nonetheless.

On other days Erik would make lunch for the two of us, which would usually be eaten in silence with the expectance of opera ghost updates. Sometimes we shared a professional conversation, or made small talk, or practiced songs. Meetings with Erik were always meek in comparison to Raoul. I was rather glad at the prospect of having Raoul as a friend; Erik just wouldn't be enough to keep the loneliness at bay.

Erik and I would talk about Raoul often. I hadn't told Erik about my dancing lessons yet, but he knew I spent a lot of time with the Viscount. I would tell him I was making progress, and that it wouldn't be much longer. Erik became rather pressed easily, though, and was frustrated and guilty looking a lot.

Kerry occasionally came down to the cellars to chat. It was a rather depressing lead, depressing and dreadfully boring. She usually was only down for a few minutes, having a full time job at the opera. Sometimes I wished I was busier than I was bored. I would rather be tired and occupied than awake and bored.

"Christine is much better than I, she has been taught so much more." I said quietly.

"Pure talent can only be taught so much, Jessica." Raoul countered. I looked up at him.

"That is the most uplifting thing anyone has ever said to me before." I said quietly, walking over to the piano.

"How does he treat you?" Raoul asked quietly as I sat down on the piano's back.

"Erik? Fairly." I said plainly. "It's not like he spoils me or anything, and he doesn't beat me regularly. He's usually very stranger like, either that or he's breaking down all the time. He's bipolar." I explained quickly. Raoul nodded.

We ate in silence for a few minutes.

"Do you, do you have an affair with him?" Raoul asked timidly. I stopped eating and looked at him.

"I'm Erik's adopted daughter, not a whore." I said pointedly.

"I'm sorry, I didn't think you were one, I was just asking if I was wrong." Raoul mumbled dejectedly.

We finished lunch in silence and I hopped off the piano, walking over to the secret entrance.

"And one more thing about Erik," I said quietly through the shadows. "He's homosexual." I opened the door and slipped in silently before Raoul could respond. Progress was in the making.

* * *

"We've been here a while." I said, looking over the rim of my china tea cup. Erik grunted in reply, not looking up from a book setting on the table. I sighed deeply, shivering intensely. I was in my warmest dress, and I was still cold. Winter was upon us. "It's December fifteenth." I said plainly. Erik didn't acknowledge me. I frowned at him, taking a piece of bread and shoving it in my mouth. I slouched down in my chair. I really should go up into the piano room, it's much warmer in the opera than in Erik's cellars. "Christmas is coming."

"I do not celebrate Christmas." Erik replied tartly. My frown deepened.

"If I didn't know you better, I would feel sorry for you." I replied shortly.

"Shut the hell up." Erik snapped. "I'm trying to read."

"Excuse me for bothering you!" I retorted, standing and pushing my chair back. This was one of the less-than-friendly lunches with Erik.

"You are excused!" Erik said sharply. I scowled down at him.

I shouted in annoyance and threw the tea cup at the wall, not really caring about the thin china shards that scratched my hands. I had finished my tea, but leaves still stained the rock.

I had been acting quite violently recently, apparently. I wouldn't have noticed if Erik didn't really bother cleaning around the lair.

Kerry had reported my violence to me, walking me through certain rooms. I had been taking unnecessary anger out on the walls, punching them and kicking them until I bled. Dark red stained the walls, some smeared and printed with hand marks, some splattered, some dripping.

Kerry had also told me I had been screaming. Very loudly. She said that during many rehearsals they could hear the familiar shriek of the Phantess through the vents, echoing off the walls of the theatre. She said it sounded like someone was being murdered, and she grew more and more paranoid about Erik killing me off for some reason, and had made scheduled visits to the cellars, just to make sure I was alright.

Apparently I had not only been interrupting rehearsals, but I had interrupted a few performances as well.

She reported that not only did I sound horribly deranged, but incredibly seduced as well? Something like that. I couldn't for the life of me remember splattering blood on the cellar's walls or screaming my head off.

The entire matter of this was making me feel like I really had gone insane.

"Erik, have I gone insane?" I asked my thoughts aloud, unsure of how controlled my voice was. Erik sighed deeply and set his book down, looking me in the eye.

"Let's just say I haven't been getting enough sleep, and it isn't because I am not comfortable." Erik replied carefully, changing into a completely different manner than before. I felt tears spurting in my eyes. I covered my face in my hands and wept. I heard the soft scrape of chair on the rock and felt Erik touch my shoulder. I jerked away from him angrily, uncovering my face.

"No, don't try to make it hurt less! This is your fault! You've done this to me!" I screamed, tears turning to anger instead of fear. "Why have you done this?" I begged, stalking towards him, glaring. I took the front of his shirt and jerked him down so his face was inches before mine.  
"I didn't do anything!" Erik whispered harshly. "But if this is the game you want to play, you cannot win!"

"I won't hold you to that." I said quite calmly. Erik glared. He grabbed my wrist and tore my fingers off his shirt, straightening up to full height. He pulled me off the ground, keeping our eyes level. My arm felt as if it were going to rip out of its socket, but I masked my face, keeping my emotions inside.

I tucked my legs up to my chest, kicking Erik in the stomach as hard as I could. I wrenched my wrist out of his grasp, gasping when his fingernails grazed deeply into my skin, drawing blood.

It only took a second for Erik to compose himself. He grabbed his book from the table, I grabbed his teacup, breaking half of it on the wall making it jagged and lethal.

I threw the cup at Erik, cursing when he sidestepped it and ran at me, hitting me upside the head with the book. My head jerked sideways and started throbbing, but I bit back a cry and grasped Erik's arm, feeling a new emotion surge through me when my other fist collided with his nose.

Erik jerked the one arm I was grasping and twisted mine in an awkward angle, I heard a sharp and loud crack. There was a stillness before surging pain, pure and feral, ripped through me. I screamed, barely noticing Erik had gripped his free hand around one of my ribs until it, to, cracked.  
I lashed out with my good hand, clawing and scratching and punching until Erik screamed. I felt my blood stained finger brush something cool. His eye. I paused, wondering whether I should blind him or not. My decision was made for me, though, when Erik had both of my arms pinned above my head against a wall and my feet stuck underneath his own.

We glared at each other for a while, panting extremely and catching our breaths.

I saw tears streaming out of Erik's right eye where I had almost stuck him with my thumb. It was red and rimmed with black, nearly swelling shut.  
I could taste the familiar metallic taste of blood in my mouth, but I wasn't sure whose it was. I was beyond caring.

I nodded once and murmured 'you won.' I wasn't sure if Erik heard me, though, because my speech was gargled and blood leaked from my lips. Erik suddenly let go of me and disappeared, as if he had never really been there.

I slumped against the wall, falling into a sitting position. I hugged my knees against my chest and wept. Screamed over and over again, this time knowingly.

I screamed for Erik to come back, and to stop. I screamed for Raoul to help me, and guide me. I screamed for Kerry to take it all. I screamed my own name, telling myself to quiet down.

I screamed my understanding.

I told Erik I knew I was insane.

And it was all my fault.


	14. Chapter 13

Okay, last chapter for this week.

Three chapters have been posted, as promised.

Don't forget to check out my DA and FB.

It'd mean a lot to me :3

Enjoy~

* * *

Chapter Thirteen

Understanding

* * *

"Jessica? Are you awake?" I heard a familiar foggy voice ask. I groaned and turned onto my side, yelping and wrenching open my eyes when a sharp pain shot through me.

"No, I'm dead, leave me alone." I panted, limbs feeling as heavy as bricks.

"Hm, nice try. How are you feeling?" I felt a hand on my right shoulder.

"Argh! Ow, Raoul please don't touch my arm." I moaned. "It hurts!" I complained upon seeing the look on Raoul's face. He chuckled softly.

"Sorry." He muttered, removing his hand delicately.

"What happened?" I asked blindly, the room coming into focus. I was lying in Madame Giry's bed. Again.

"I don't know, Madame Giry called me up here saying you were injured. Was it Erik?" Raoul asked carefully.

"No, I tripped down the wheelchair ramp." I replied dryly. "Of course it was Erik."

"Well, then. Erik broke your arm and one of your ribs." Raoul started drawling on about blood on the walls and hearing me screaming. I tuned him out, trying to sit up. I gasped, feeling my rib dig into my skin. Raoul stopped his rambling and pushed me back down gently. "Be careful, you're still healing."

"Where is Erik?" I asked coldly. Raoul pursed his lips and looked down to the floor. He silently picked something off the bedside stand and placed it in my hand, still not looking at me.

I placed the rose on my lap, preferring to read the parchment tied to it. The familiar feeling of grief settled in the pit of my stomach. I really didn't want to hear from Erik right now.

I unfolded the parchment, staring at a very short letter.

_Cherry,_

_It's okay, I'm insane, too._

I store at the print for what seemed to be at least ten minutes, before bursting out into tears. My body shook with uncontrolled sobs, my newly healing bones aching, sending waves of pain over me. It only made the tears worse.

"Jessica?" Raoul asked uncertainly. I balled the parchment up in my hand, refusing to look at it any longer.

"It isn't fair!" I cried, choking on sobs. "He's so penitent!"

"He's-what?" Raoul asked.

"Genuine," I sobbed. "I can't believe it, I accused him of a crime I committed."

"What?"

"I blamed him!" I screamed.

Raoul placed a comforting hand on my shoulder, flinching away when he remembered what I had told him. I really didn't care now; I deserved this pain, and so much more.

"I hurt him! I stabbed him in the eye with my thumb!" I moaned, staring at the ceiling.

"Oh, well. Um…" Raoul said uncertainly.

"And then I spit blood in his face! I am sooo dead!" I groaned, flopping down onto the pillows.

"He's sorry." Raoul said gently.

"I can never repay him, he's lived with so much misery. No one has ever loved him before." I murmured, placing my hands over my face dismally.

"It will all pass. It will always pass." Raoul said confidently.

"Easy for you to say, you've lived a wonderful life! You're the Vicomte de Cagney, peaches and crème all day long." I snapped accusingly.

"My parents died when I was five." Raoul said, looking me in the eye. Something inside my heart broke.

"I'm sorry," I choked. "I know how it feels, I never knew my parents." I lied quietly.

"But," Raoul smiled down at me. "Erik is your father." He whispered.

"No," I said sharply. "he will never be my father, he hates me!" I cried, sobbing loudly.

"He doesn't hate you," Raoul said strongly. "you're both just going through a hard time, it will all pass."

"You say that now, no one can predict the future!" I cried, opening my eyes a little wider. "Except me." I breathed.

"What?" Raoul asked, genuinely confused.

"I'm from the year two thousand eleven." I said calmly, staring at Raoul in the eyes.

"Wow," Raoul breathed. "weird."

"We came back for Erik to try and get Christine, but he found that he never really loved her." I started to explain.

"You said he's homosexual." Raoul affirmed.

"Correct." I said.

"So then why are you still here if there's no one he cares about?" Raoul asked, confused.

"There is." I said after a long while. Raoul nodded.

"Who?" Raoul pressed.

"I-I don't know." I murmured, averting my eyes from him.

"You're lying." Raoul said confidently.

"You don't want to hear it, I promise." I said, looking him in the eye pointedly.

"Just tell me." Raoul complained. I took in a deep breath.

"Promise you won't tell?" I asked, whispering. Raoul nodded vigorously. I prodded his arm with my good hand.

"Ow…" Raoul wined, rubbing the spot where I poked him. His eyes widened. "Wait-"

I held up a hand, silencing him.

"That's the only reason I'm here right now." I whispered. Raoul just store at me, mouth agape.

"Oh, you're awake. Mademoiselle I believe Erik has abused you far enough." Madame Giry rambled, tiding something up with her back to me.

"You cannot take me away, Erik has done no wrong. I fell into one of his traps, he was injured helping me out." I lied valiantly. Madame Giry turned around.

"Ahh," She sighed, smiling slightly. "excuse me for assuming, it's just, I know Erik better than anyone else will, and fighting you seemed like him."

"No, no. You have every right to assume such a thing, Erik has been very kind to me, though, this was simply an accident. I am still growing accustomed to the tunnels." I explained casually, trying to sit up. Raoul noticed and grabbed a few extra pillows, using them to prop me into a sitting position.

I grasped onto the rose with my good hand, smelling it happily. My arm was bound in a wooden plank and some tightly wound fabric. A similar brace was supporting my ribs.

I unwrinkled the parchment, folding it neatly and sitting on it gently. I didn't really want anyone else reading it.

"Of course, it's a labyrinth down there." Madame Giry said understandingly. I nodded once, slumping down, still grasping my rose.

* * *

It was like that for the next week, getting visits from Raoul and having my bandages changed by Madame Giry.

Sometimes Erik would leave a short note, telling me about current rumors. Or the weather. Or his feelings. It was all very depressing.

After a very long week of being a physiatrist, Madame Giry finally proclaimed my bones to be well healed, thought she advised I stay in the cellars, not doing what opera ghosts usually do.

As soon as I stepped outside Madame Giry's rooms, I was greeted by a very enthusiastic Kerry.

"Cherry!" She cried, wrapping her arms around my neck and hugging the breath out of me. A searing pain shot from my arm and I gasped.  
"Less hugging, more breathing." I gagged. Kerry immediately let go.

"Oh! This is the second time we've had to lie about your injuries to keep Erik safe!" Kerry whispered in my ear. I proceeded to tell her about my insanity and many other various things, such as how Erik had hit me upside the head with a thick hard cover book.

"Well, Christmas is in three days! We're going shopping!" Kerry pulled on my good arm through the opera. There had been a performance the night before and the ballerinas had been given the day off today.

"Kerry, at least let me change first! I've been in this dress for the past week." I complained. Kerry sighed and let me direct her towards one of the many secret entrances. I skirted through the darkness, guiding Kerry with my hand. Erik was nowhere to be found in the lair, he was more than likely stalking Raoul.

"Can I pick out a dress for you?" Kerry asked quietly. I sighed and nodded once. Kerry disappeared into our room, returning with a long brown dress and a fur shawl. "I have matching shoes and a hat for you on the vanity." She said, ushering me inside. I sighed, changing into the new dress and slipping on a pair of fur lines boots. I ran a brush through my hair, tying it up slightly. It had been quite curly lately because of Kerry's idea of giving me a perm. I few stray hairs fell from my bun, framing my face nicely. I put a baggy burlap hat on, tugging it over my ears.

I stepped out, sitting in my chair by the organ as Kerry changed. She came out wearing a white dress with a similar white fur shawl, white boots, white earmuffs, and a furry white muffler.

"Well, don't you look bright." I nodded towards her entire white choice of clothing.

"I prefer primary colors to black and red." She said, stepping past me into the gondola.

"Red is a primary color." I pointed out. Kerry fumed.

"Just, shut up." She said teasingly. I laughed and splashed a little bit of water on her. "Eek! This is real arctic hare!" She squeaked. I laughed quietly, the noise still echoing off the stone walls.

"So, what're you planning on doing?" I asked conversationally. Kerry shrugged.

"Get Christmas gifts, maybe have a late lunch at the bakery." Kerry suggested. My stomach growled, Madame Giry hadn't had much to give me besides half a loaf of bread and a few cups of soup for the entire week. Kerry laughed.

"Hey! I'm hungry." I whined. Kerry laughed again.

The walk was silent as usual, and didn't take nearly as long as a conversation would have. We slipped out into the chilled Paris streets, there was a thick three foot blanket of snow covering the sidewalks and store keepers were shoveling through it slowly. The snow was falling softly and there was no breeze.

It was perfect winter weather.

"Wanna get something to eat first? It's getting late." I asked, eyeing my pocket watch.

"Sure, that's a good place." Kerry pointed to a quaint bakery. We crossed the slush covered street quickly and practically ran through the door to the small bakery.

I ordered lunch and sat down at a window seat with some tea.

"So, have any idea what you're going to buy?" I asked, taking a sip of my tea.

"Some shoes for Elzia, maybe a necklace for Ester, a bracelet for Maria, maybe some parchment for Erik." Kerry counted off her fingers to make sure she got everything. I smirked.

"What about me?" I pressed. Kerry pouted at me.

"Well, I'm not telling you! You're just always so hard to pick stuff out for." Kerry said triumphantly.

"I'm not hard to get gifts for."

"That's exactly what Erik said."

"Erik doesn't understand he has more than enough of what he likes." I said, taking another sip from my tea. A waitress placed our lunches on the table and we thanked her.

I dug into the sandwich greedily, relishing in the way it filled me up instantly.

"Slow down, you're going to be hiccupping for the rest of the day." Kerry said, shoving at my arm playfully.

"I'm hungry." I said, pausing my gorging to speak.

"So, what're you gonna get everyone?" Kerry asked me.

"I'm not sure, but remind me in case I forget, I want to buy something for you, Erik, Madame Giry, and Raoul." I said, licking a bit of soup as it drizzled down my face.

"Oh so you're on a first name basis with the Vicomte?" Kerry asked, taking a bite of her own sandwich.

"As a matter of fact, yes, I am. He's been giving me regular dancing lessons. We've become friends of some sort." I said, pushing my empty plates into the middle of the table.

"I thought ghosts couldn't have friends." Kerry whispered, leaning forward slightly. I scoffed.

"I am as mortal as anyone else, this ghost business was just a mistake." I said bitterly.

"You're doing a good job at managing it, you sound truly insane." Kerry murmured. I sighed.

"I'm starting to believe I'm not acting. I think I need to get out more." I massaged my temple with my fingers. Kerry looked at me sympathetically.  
"You need to stop spending time in the cellars, it's not natural for a girl our age to be buried so many feet beneath the surface all the time." Kerry said proudly. I scoffed.

"I know that, I'm trying, trust me." I sighed, taking one last sip of my tea. Kerry had finished her lunch and I stood, leaving a tip for the waitress on the counter.

"Where to first?" I asked as the door closed behind us.

"Jewelers?" Kerry suggested, gesturing to the store directly next to the bakery. I nodded and trudged through the snow towards the door. I pried it open, holding it for Kerry.

The store was very warm and filled with glass cases holding necklaces, broaches, bracelets, hair pieces, even shoes. Kerry and I went our separate ways instantly. I knew Kerry loved necklaces, and decided it would be a nice gift.

I picked out a simple one, a silver chain with an amber gemstone. After paying for it, I walked outside and turned into the florist next door.  
It was also extremely warm in the florists. I strode through to the back door, which was open, and led into a green house. It felt and smelt like summer, fragrant and alive. I strode past sculpted angles with vines growing on them, and rows and rows of trees, bushes, flowers, and plenty of other plants.

Ferns and flytraps and orchids lined the walls. Vines stretched up to the ceiling where the windows were all closed. It was too cold to open them today, though the florist had obviously taken the time to scrape the snow off the roof just in case.

It was a genius idea, really. The florist's house had a courtyard behind it, where the florist had built their own green house. It was very quaint, in fact, I almost forgot we were in Paris.

I saw a few carnations, not very expensive. I picked up a blue one, liking it immediately. I decided it would do for Raoul, it matched his eyes. I took a waiting vase off the counter, already filled with water, and placed the flower in gently. It was a good idea, really, if you were planning on being in the green house for long. The flowers wouldn't wither as fast. I stepped out into the small remaining section of the courtyard. The florist had left it open for plants that preferred the cold weather.

I saw a few roses, cut and stripped of thorns. I was drawn to them immediately. I had never really gotten anyone a Christmas present before, and flowers seemed like a nice thing to start with. I was drawn to three roses in particular. The first one was a deep blue, the second a golden color, and third an onyx black. I placed them, too, in the vase and headed to the front desk.

The day seemed to go by very quickly; Kerry and I met up just after six and headed back to the Opera.

I hurried down to the cellars, bidding Kerry goodnight. I prayed Erik wasn't down there. I really wanted to surprise him. I doubted the fact that he'd ever been given a gift before, I wanted to be the first.

I put the flowers into a vase on the vanity in my room and stashed the necklace in a drawer.

I didn't really feel like joining Erik for dinner, considering how our last meal together went. But my lunch was wearing off and my stomach growled impatiently.

I tiptoed out of my room. It was strangely quiet, there was no music, no songs, no footsteps, no screams, no talking to one's self. It felt so…odd.

I skirted over to the organ, sitting in my chair quite stiffly. I drummed my fingers on the arm rest, becoming bored and rather frustrated quite easily.

Ten minutes passed.

Twenty.

Thirty.

An hour.

Two hours.

I had dozed off in the chair every so often, jerking awake with a start only to see a few more candles extinguished by the small drafts.

There had been absolutely no sign of Erik the entire day, and I was beginning to worry.

"Erik?" I called, walking through the house. I pulled back the curtain to his room, squinting my eyes in the darkness. "Erik are you in here?" I stepped in and lit a candle, sighing when the room was empty, save for his coffin.

I started walking around the rest of the lair. I looked in the study, kitchen, bedroom, even the bathroom and still no sign of Erik. I eventually went out in the gondola, silently cursing myself for not bringing a candle as the darkness grew.

"Erik!" I called, my voice echoing off the cavernous walls. I shivered despite my warm clothes and wiggled my toes to regain some nerves in them. They felt even colder than usual, which was odd considering they were always pretty cold.

The cold feeling started to climb, above my ankles to my knees. I lifted my leg to keep the circulation going, only to find it had become very heavy. And wet.

I gasped and stood up. Big mistake. The boat was slowly sinking, and I hadn't even realized it. It tipped suddenly and I went splashing into the freezing water. I threw my head up, gasping for breath. My clothes were doing more harm than good. They held me under, and I quickly started shedding layers while forcing my head above the surface.

When I was finally undressed, save for my undergarments, I started treading water. I paddled backwards, kicking with my feet, until my back collided with something stone and cold. A pillar.

I wrapped my arms and legs around it gratefully, letting my stiff muscles try and relax. I slipped in and out of consciousness, gripping to the pillar with my life. I started coughing at some point, and was shivering uncontrollably. I needed to get out of the water. Now.

"Cherry?" A voice drifted through my consciousness, bringing me back to full alertness. "What the hell are you doing here?"

I reached a shivering hand out, pressing my face into the pillar, and felt something warm brush my clammy fingertips. I flattened my hand, feeling a face.

A heard a groan but whoever it was didn't pull away. I heard the movement of the water, and felt someone pick me up.

I felt the hardness of wooden boards beneath me before I fell completely unconscious.

* * *

I felt a cool cloth on my forehead. I creaked open my eyes slowly, moaning in discomfort. My eyesight was very blurry and my chest felt as if it were on fire. My body shook with raking coughs and the cloth on my forehead slipped.

A hand readjusted it and my coughing fit died down a little.

"Cherry?" A quiet voice asked from my left. I coughed in response. "Cherry, wake up." I felt a hand shake my shoulder gently.

I opened my eyes again, lungs bursting in another fit of coughs. Pain seared through me as I felt my muscles constrict. I collapsed back on the pillows, completely exhausted.

"Please wake up." The voice broke. The hand rubbed my shoulder gently. "You can't leave me." It quivered.

I gagged and nearly spit up on myself, still half asleep. My body shook with coughs again and I nearly screamed in frustration. My sleepy mind couldn't process anything and my body felt as if it were about to quit on me. And yet, I was strangely calm. I felt as if all the suffering in my life would end soon.

My eyes fluttered closed and my breathing leveled out as well as possible. When I was to greet Death, I would be controlled.

"No!" The voice screamed, the hand shaking my shoulder once again. "Don't! Please stay!" I felt the hot prick of tears on my shoulder and the familiar shaking feeling of someone weeping onto me. I fought to keep still, choking down coughs and gags.

"Dear God," I heard the voice scream. "Don't you dare let her die!" There was a short pause where the crying stopped for a little, all I heard was what sounded like someone trashing up the room.

I couldn't help it. I burst into a fit of coughs, rolling onto my side and curling up into a fatal position. I realized I was covered in blankets, and a small flickering light was a fire. I felt the temperature drop, then rise, then drop again. My mind shifted in and out of consciousness, broken only by harsh sobs.

Hours went by, days, maybe even months. I couldn't tell the difference between day and night. It was all just a haze.  
Once in a while soup was coaxed down my throat, or tea, I really couldn't taste anything anymore so it didn't make any difference.  
Sometimes I would dream, I would dream of music. And the opera. And how I was somehow needed. I didn't believe a second of my dreams. Dreams were worthless.

"Cherry," The familiar calm voice that had been talking to me for the time I was sick said. "Cherry, your fever has broken." I coughed violently in reply.

"Cherry, please," The voice pressed. "please wake up."

I groaned, coughing slightly. I opened my eyes once again, surprised when the room came into focus almost at once. I was down in the cellars, that much was obvious.

It took a few minutes for my head to finally clear. I shook it for good measure.

Soon I could hear everything from the fire crackling merrily in the fireplace to the wind winding through the tunnels to Erik's breathing as he loomed over me.

I blinked a few times, satisfied when the focus didn't change.

"What happened?" I asked, my throat sore and my voice husky.

"Well," Erik said dryly. "You were released from Madame Giry's custody yesterday, you and Kerry then went out window shopping or something. You returned to my home, I suppose, while I was out stea-purchasing a new gondola because the old one had. ." Erik said pointedly. I nodded at him dumbly. "I was riding it back when I heard someone in the lake. It turned out to be you, clinging for dear life to the wall." Erik sneered down at me.

"I have pneumonia?" I asked stupidly. Erik scoffed.

"Of course you do, you're recovering though." Erik said dryly, standing up and turning to leave.

"I had pneumonia twice last year." I said casually, struggling to sit up. I frowned when I found myself too weak to do so.

"What?" Erik asked harshly, striding back to my side on the velvet durvy in the sitting room. "How on earth did you manage that?"

"I liked standing in the rain." I replied dryly, staring up at the ceiling.

"Foolish girl." Erik sneered down at me. I scoffed.

"I am only a fool if I am deemed to be-" Erik cut me off.

"I am deeming you one." Erik said pointedly, turning to leave again.

"By one smarter than I." I finished triumphantly. Erik paused.

"I really do hate you, you know that?" He asked quietly. I nodded.

"Good, at least we feel the same way about each other." I replied quietly, closing my eyes. I felt Erik leave the room and drifted off into the oblivion of sleep.

* * *

Days seemed to go by like years, but considering how used I was to the pain of shaking coughs I recovered quite quickly.

In only two days I was up and walking. I was quite weak, and couldn't really leave the room or do anything on my own, but I was improving quickly.

I woke on Christmas eve, feeling refreshed and new. Erik forced me to practice my song, and actually seemed quite satisfied when my voice hadn't changed.

"Erik," I said, watching him pace from my chair by the organ. "Erik, why so glum?" I pried. Erik paused and glared at me before proceeding to pace. I sighed deeply and slumped down in the chair.

"It's Christmas eve," I pressed. "we should be doing something together."

"I do not celebrate Christmas." Erik said sharply.

"Against your religion?" I asked offhandedly.

"I do not practice religion." Erik said in the same sharp tone.

"Then how can you be a Devil's Child and an Angel at the same time if you don't even believe in religion?" I asked, sitting up straight again. Erik paused his pacing and glared at me before staring up again. "Erik, pacing is unhealthy. Why won't you just come over here and talk to me? Are you angry again?"

Erik stopped, not looking at me, and sighed deeply.

"Is it about Christine?" I asked quickly, silently cursing myself for not thinking before speaking.

Erik looked up, genuinely surprised. "How did you know?" Erik asked, walking over to me and sitting on the bench to his organ.  
"You have different paces, when you pace while thinking about Raoul, your expression softens and your steps become lighter, when you pace thinking about the managers you scowl a lot, when you pace thinking about Madame Giry your footsteps are rather loud, when you pace thinking about Christine you glare at me if I interrupt you, and when you pace thinking about me you mutter under your breath things like 'ungrateful, stupid, mangy, insolent brat'." I confirmed. Erik store at me wide eyed, lips parted slightly. "You pace a lot." I said after a long, awkward pause.

"Yes, I was thinking about Christine." Erik said dumbly. I nodded. "I let her go."

"What?" I asked, leaning forward slightly.

"I wrote her, telling her she did not need me any longer, and that she had achieved her highest goals." Erik said blankly. I sighed and placed a hand on his knee. To my surprise, he didn't flinch away.

"You're very strong Erik." I said quietly. "I really didn't mean it."

"What?" Erik asked, looking me in the eye.

"I care about you," I paused. "do you really hate me?"

"Cherry," Erik said sympathetically, grasping my hand lightly. "never."

I smiled slightly at him and he nodded. "I'm glad we can feel the same way about each other, then."

* * *

Yaaaaaay.

They made up.

Again.

Review my pretties.

REVIEWWW


	15. Chapter 14

Well, this is awkward.

I haven't updated in...forever.

wow.

Well, enjoy, I guess...

* * *

Chapter Fourteen

Masquerade

* * *

"I'm so excited!" Kerry whisper screamed in my ear. I smiled at her softly and nodded, stray curls falling out of my bun.

The work had been brutal, but Erik was right when he said I would like the song I was to sing tonight.

The gondola bumped into the bank, and I was mildly surprised when Erik made no move to help the two of us out. It was very unlike him. I felt a bolt of worry surge through me, what if Erik was mad again?

I became even more nervous when his gentle hand didn't lead me through the darkness. I was very used to this particular passage, but it was comforting when he did so nonetheless. I hugged myself tightly, following Kerry and Erik.

The walk was, as usual, silent. I didn't speak when Erik whispered something comforting to Kerry before she left. I walked over to the piano Raoul had practically given me. I ran my fingers over the keys, disturbing the thin layer of dust that had settled there.

"Merry Christmas." I said quietly, shivering when my voice echoed through the large room. Erik scoffed.

"Christmas is only a warning for me. It reminds me how annoying the human race can be." Erik said tartly. I frowned down at the piano.

"I got you something." I murmured, turning to face Erik. He was, as usual, facing away from me, standing in a circle of pure moonlight. I sighed deeply, walking over to him.

I handed the black rose out to him. He seemed to like roses, when I saw it while I was shopping with Kerry I immediately thought of him. It was tied with a midnight blue lace.

Erik just held it for a short while, staring down at the rare flower.

"It made me think of you." I said truthfully, turning to leave.

"Wait," Erik's hand was on my shoulder, pressing down gently. "good luck,"

I nodded after a few minutes of silence. "Thank you." I whispered, leaving through the door Kerry had only moments before.

I stood, deep in the shadows, observing the party in the lobby. Most of the people seemed drunk already, and were singing off tune carols. I took my time, waiting for the opportune moment. Erik had me practice this often; it seemed like a second nature thing to do now.

There seemed to be an end coming to one of the songs, and a strike of stage fright surged through me. I adjusted my mask on my face and stepped out, walking briskly towards the staircase. An eerie and very cold wind swirled through the lobby, causing the candles to flicker out. Moonlight danced through the windows Erik had opened. I smirked slightly, walking towards the appointed spot.

"We are the lucky ones, we shine like a thousand suns, when all of the color runs together." I started, throwing my voice softly. I stepped down the stairs silently, feeling like a shadow, to the beat. "I'll keep you company, in one glorious harmony, waltzing with destiny forever."

I caught sight of the people who were once dancing so drunkenly, now looking very sober. I caught sight of Raoul, standing off to the side next to Christine.

"Dance me into the night, underneath the moon shining so bright, turning me into the light." I realized I had been staring at Raoul, which would have been evident considering it was becoming hard to see with the light shining in my face. I stretched my hand out towards him, proceeding with the waltz he had devised, with me leading. "Time dances whirling past, I gaze through the looking glass, and feel just beyond my grasp is geometry, where you're movement is poetry, visions of you and me forever. Dance me into the night, underneath the moon shining so bright, turning me into the light."

"Dance me into the night, underneath the moon shining so bright. Let the dark waltz begin, oh let me wheel-let me spin. Let it take me again, turning me into the light." I paused, making the transition from the appointed song, to one I had devised all my own. I could feel Erik's angry gaze burning into the back of my head, but I paid him no attention. I walked away from Raoul, scaling the stairs backwards slowly.

"Say you'll share with me one love one life time, help me, save me from my solitude. Share each day with me, each night, each morning. Anywhere you go let me go too…" I let go of Raoul's hand, stepping above the door to Erik's torture chamber. I took secret pride in the next part. I took out a smoke screen quickly and discreetly. "This is what the phantom asks of you!" I threw the smoke screen down, erupting into an explosion of glistening midnight blue smoke. I fell through the door just in time to avoid being seen.

I heard Erik's angry scream reverberate through the floors, followed by more shrieks from the crowd. I ran through a gap in the mirrors into another passageway. It led back to the lobby behind a few pillars. I waited in the hall with windows overlooking a courtyard next door. Snow was falling softly and the glitter of golden candle light was slowly refilling the room as the candles were re-lit. People started singing once again and soon it was if I had never disturbed the party at all.

Erik's gloved hand came out of nowhere, closing around my throat and thrusting me against the wall I had been leaning on. I desperately tried to pull his fingers away, gasping in surprise and anger.

"Why? Why do you insist on doing this to me?" Erik pleaded. I gasped in reply. He pressed harder. "WHY?" His ranting was covered by the loudness of the now booming party. I could see faint tears sparkling in Erik's eyes. I closed my own eyes, waiting for him to let me go. I stopped struggling, hanging my head rather dismally. He sighed deeply and let me drop to the floor. I nearly twisted my ankle but managed to catch myself just in time.  
"Jessica?" Raoul's timid voice echoed off the cold hall's walls.

"Raoul." I said, running from Erik. I gave Raoul a hug.

"Help me, please." I whispered in his ear. I felt him give a small nod.

"Merry Christmas." I said as happily as possible. Raoul smiled at me when he finally let go.

"Merry Christmas." He said quietly. He stopped looking at me, turning his gaze to Erik.

"M-merry Christmas, Erik." Raoul stammered, making a blush rise to his cheeks slightly. I made a mental note to thank Raoul later for being so good at acting.

"Merry Christmas." Erik said after a long pause.

"Oh!" I exclaimed softly, pretending to just remember something. "I left your present in the piano room, I'll be right back."

I nodded towards Raoul and sprinted off down the hallway, hiding behind a pillar as soon as I was positive Erik wasn't looking at me. I had bought Raoul a present, a blue carnation. The florist had a very warm house, I was surprised it had survived for so long in the cold.

"Did you," Raoul started awkwardly, I could hear the blush in his voice. "did you mean it?"

"Mean what?" Erik replied softly yet shortly.

"That…song…?" Raoul murmured.

There was a very long pause after that. Seeing that Erik wasn't about to reply, Raoul started another conversation.

"It's too bad, really. If Jessica isn't back soon she'll be cursed until next Christmas." Raoul said quietly. I could practically see Erik's expression right now. "Mistletoe." Raoul whispered. I looked around the pillar slightly to see Raoul looking upwards. Erik stepped back.

"I'll just go and see what's taking her so long." Erik said awkwardly. Raoul grasped his hand just as Erik turned away.

"You know the rules," Raoul whispered. Erik turned back around slowly. The last thing I saw before I turned back around the pillar was Raoul fling his arms around Erik's neck.

I must have dozed off, because when I woke the next day I was completely enveloped in sunlight. I squinted my eyes and walked back down towards the lair, stumbling as I went.

I tripped a few times and nearly broke my ankle, hence taking off my shoes. The gondola was tied on the shore, and I slowly drifted back, eyes closing a few times only to be jerked back open through sheer will power. I tripped up out of the boat, dragging my feet until I came to my room.  
I pulled back the drape, becoming awake almost instantly, and screamed.

* * *

"RAOUL?" I gasped, shaking from shock. I leaned up against the wall or support, slipping out of the room as quickly as I could.

I pressed the heels of my palms to my eyes, wishing to unsee the image of my best friend and my adopted father sleeping together. I moaned in frustration and embarrassment, sliding down the wall until I was in a sitting position.

I groaned when I felt a hand on my shoulder. "What the hell is wrong with me?" I asked helplessly, uncovering my eyes to see a rather tired Raoul squatting on the floor next to me.

"I ask myself the same question every day." Raoul murmured, sitting beside me. I looked around uncertainly.

"Where's Erik?" I asked, fully expecting him to burst out of the room and ring my neck. I rubbed it self-consciously, gulping as I did so.

"Still asleep." Raoul yawned, slumping against the wall. A long pause followed, leaving an uncomfortable silence.

"I'm so sorry." I said genuinely, looking Raoul in the eye. His expression turned quizzical.

"Whatever for? If anything you've done nothing but helped." Raoul said, placing a hand on my shoulder. I felt my eyebrows rise up to my hairline.

"You wanted to sleep with Erik?" I asked him, sounding almost concerned. Raoul looked at me gravely.

"Why wouldn't you think so?"

"I thought you were acting."

"You can be such a horrible person, Jessica." Raoul stood up, suddenly angry. "I wouldn't do that, not to Erik, not to anyone! It hurts me to see you think differently."

I looked up at him, pleadingly. "I'm sorry." I reached up and grasped his hand, tugging it gently. "Stay?"

Raoul sighed and sat back down, looking pained to do so.

"How?" I asked, not looking at Raoul.

"I didn't know until recently." Raoul said quietly.

"Was it something I said?"

"Actually, it was a letter from my brother Philippe. While you were, sick apparently as Erik said, my brother said he would attend the opera with me. He was called away on business, and gave me a letter, saying to open it after the opera. I was angry, considering Philippe had said it was 'nothing but another day,' when it was my birthday. I was walking towards the boxes when I heard the managers approach. I really didn't want to talk to them, so I slipped into the closest box," I cut Raoul off.

"Box five." I said definitely. Raoul nodded a few times.

"Yes, he was there, seemingly gentlemanly. We shared some small talk before I guess he was bothered by my presence and shouted at me to get out."

"He is bipolar."

"I walked to the box behind five, being the depressed figure I was that day, when Erik came. He said I had dropped the letter in his box as I fled, and when he handed it to me, I saw it had been opened-" Raoul trailed off and I rolled my eyes. Typical Erik. "I read it, it said some stuff about me being love sick and not knowing it, when realization struck me. I love him, as awkward as it sounds. I fled the box, and he pursued. He caught up to me and-" Raoul paused, looking away, blush rising to his cheeks. "and he gave me a birthday present."

I nodded once it was clear he was through. "That's cute." I said after a prolonged silence. Raoul chuckled softly.

"I suppose he is."

* * *

Sappy stuff from a sappy author.

This might be the last chapter of this story, I'm thinking of dropping it on account of the sudden lack of reviews. No reviews to me means you're all getting sick of the story. I can't read minds, only feedback :3


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Phantom of the Opera, Adventure, Drama