Phantom of the Opera 1. Chapter One

_Author's Note:_

This is the beginning of a new idea that I'm testing. It's mostly from Meg's perspective, but there might be a bit of Phantom POV. We'll see how it works out. Let me know what you think!

I have changed a few things: Meg and the Phantom (Erik) are closer in age, just so things won't be...weird/awkward/gross. Y'know? In this story, Meg was alive when Madame Giry rescued Eric from the circus, but has never seen or spoken to him. This chapter takes place before Christine is brought to the opera house.

As I said earlier, let me know what you think! I'd really like a second opinion on this one. As always, read and review! ~Forest

_Disclaimer:_ I do not own any of the Phantom of the Opera ideas, characters, plot twists, etc.

* * *

**Chapter One**

Ever since I was a little girl, my mother told me stories of the Phantom of the Opera Populaire. She told me about how she had saved him from the abuse of the circus, and how she smuggled him into the opera's depths. Even though I had been alive when my mother helped the Phantom, I had neither seen nor met him. Mother said he was deformed, but never told me how so. I asked about him often.

My mother refused to tell me anything of his appearance. She'd just sigh and say, "Oh Meg. What will I do with you? Your mind is always drifting off! Now chin up, focus, and show me that dance again."

I asked a few of the stagehands, thinking they would have more information. But each had their own story, and it was hard to tell fact from fiction.

"Like yellow parchment is his skin," Joseph Buquet told me when I asked. "A great black hole serves as the nose that never grew. You must be always on your guard," here he pointed his finger at me, "or he will catch you in his magical lasso."

Another stage hand said, "His eyes are black, like two dark spots on his face. And his skin? Clear white because he never goes out into the sun. You can see his veins underneath his skin. Beware, Meg Giry, or he'll catch you and drag you down into the depths of the opera house…"

I didn't know who to believe. Everyone claimed they had seen the Phantom, but no two descriptions were even close to the same.

I decided to ask my mother one last time.

I was lying in bed, but I was far from sleep. My mind was swimming with thoughts. "What does the Phantom look like, Mother? Why is he so terrible to look at?"

My mother took a seat beside my bed, looking down at me with her brown eyes. "If I tell you, will you sleep? Do you promise never to ask again?" she asked softly.

I nodded solemnly.

"Very well." She stared at the wall for a few moments, then turned back to me. "His name is Erik. A genius, he is, even at his young age. He knows every passageway in this opera house like the back of his hand."

She and I both knew this was not the information I was seeking.

"But what does he look like?" I asked eagerly when she paused.

She looked at me for a long time. "Half of his face is normal, beautiful, and the skin is soft and clear. But, on the right side of his face, the skin is red and rough, pinched and pulled in strange ways." She sighed. "It is very hard to explain, dear Meg."

"Joseph Buquet says he has no nose."

"Joseph Buquet has never seen the Phantom."

"What of his nose?"

The corner of mother's mouth turned up slightly. "He has a nose, Meg." She paused, then added one more piece to his description. "He wears a mask to cover the deformed side of his face. I pray you will never see his distortion. For both your sake and his."

My mother stood and leaned over me, giving me a quick peck on the cheek. "Now get some rest. You have a lot of training for the ballet tomorrow."

"Good night, Mother," I replied quietly.

She turned and looked at me from the door way, her eyes searching my face for something. After a few moments, she smiled slightly, and blew out the candles. Quietly, she slipped through the door, leaving me with my thoughts.

As I drifted off to sleep, images of the Phantom—Erik, as my mother had called him—drifted through my thoughts. And when I fell asleep, I dreamed of a boy not much older than I with a mask covering half his face. I danced for him, and, in return, he sang quietly to me. We were content to share our talents until, suddenly, Joseph Buquet came from the shadows and took the Phantom's mask. Behind the mask was a mess of yellow, red, and white skin, a discolored eye, and a hole that was his right nostril. The Phantom yelled in anger and tried to cover the deformed half of his face with his hand, but both Joseph Buquet and I had already seen it…

I bolted upright in bed, panting and sweating. I looked around the room, searching the darkness for Joseph Buquet or the Phantom in my dream. Seeing neither, I fell back onto the pillows, the song Erik had sung to me in my dream ringing in my ears.

After a few verses, the song ended, and I heard a man's voice whisper, "Sleep, Meg. All is well."

The song wasn't a dream.

The Phantom was singing me to sleep.


	2. Chapter Two

_Author's Note:_

You Are Not Alone is still a working title, and I still don't really like it. So if you have a good suggestion, it would be WONDERFUL if you could put it into a PM or review or something. Thanks in advance! As ever, read and review! ~Forest

* * *

**Chapter Two**

A few months passed, and I kept Erik a secret. He now sang to me every night, his beautiful voice becoming something I looked forward to hearing. I would lie quietly in bed while he sang soft lullabies with strange, haunting melodies. He wrote some of the songs himself and dedicated them to me. I loved them all, and tried to remember the melodies and words so I could sing them to myself during the day.

But, as much as I loved his singing and the songs he wrote, I didn't understand why. Why did he write me all these beautiful songs? Why did he sing me to sleep every night? Why did he choose me over some of the other girls?

I still wanted to know what he looked like, too. Even after a couple of months, he hadn't revealed himself to me.

That evening, I decided I would meet him.

I waited for him to come and sing for me. It was hard not to fall asleep after such a long day of rehearsals, but unanswered questions lurked in my mind, keeping me awake until, finally, I sensed his presence.

"Meg," he whispered. "I wrote this for you." He began to sing a beautiful song. Its melody was slow and soothing, and it pulled at my consciousness.

I refused to let myself sleep. I wanted to meet Erik tonight.

When his song was over, he whispered, "Goodnight, Meg."

"Erik?" I called softly.

For a moment, he said nothing.

"You know my name."

"Yes. And you know mine. But I do not know your face."

Erik did not respond.

"I wish to meet the one who sings me to sleep and writes me such beautiful songs."

Again, Erik said nothing.

I licked my lips and tried again. "I've heard that you know all the passages, and that you live in the depths of the opera house."

"Both are true," he replied shortly.

"Will you show me?" I asked.

He paused. "If that is what you wish, I suppose I can."

I smiled. Finally, I would meet him! I stood, sliding my feet into my slippers, and pulled on a robe. It was bound to be cold in the passages.

Unexpectedly, a part of my wall slid away. I gasped and spun around to face it. There, in the place where the wall had been, stood the Phantom. He stood a head taller than me, and appeared a few years my senior. He was, as my mother told me, wearing a mask to conceal the deformed side of his face. The other half was just as beautiful as my mother had said. His eyes were ice blue, his skin as smooth and clear. His hair was raven black, and was slicked back.

"Meg," he said softly, reaching towards me with a gloved hand. I took his hand, and he led me down a passageway. The walls were wet with moisture, and a few lit torches sat in holders on the walls.

Erik looked back at me, and I realized my mouth was hanging open. I closed it quickly. Turning back, he said, "I can see the questions in your eyes. Do not be afraid to ask."

I tried to organize my thoughts and pick the question that had been haunting me the most.

"What lies beneath the mask?" I asked.

He glanced back at me, and I could see a look of sadness and anger pass through his eyes. I could tell that this was the one question he had hoped I would not ask. "A deformity I hope the world will never see again," he replied, turning away from me.

I paused, coming up with another question. "Why do you sing to me?"

"Because I know you'll listen when no one else will."

I thought about this for a moment. It's true. I listen. Other people rush around, not paying attention to the little things around them. I was not one of those people.

Soon after that, we reached an underground lake. A beautiful boat floated on it, and Erik helped me into it. It was filled with soft pillows that I settled onto, getting into a comfortable position so I could see Erik as well as the passing walls and where we were going. Using a long pole, he guided the boat through the labyrinth of passages. Erik hummed as he pressed the boat further into the tunnels and I stayed silent, listening. His song reminded me of my drowsiness, and my eyes closed for a moment.

No! I would not sleep! I opened my eyes again, and saw Erik smiling down at me. His blue eyes shone with some emotion. Happiness, maybe.

"Meg," he said softly, "You may sleep if you wish. Though it is not far now."

But I did not want to sleep. Not yet. I wanted to stay awake. I wanted to see when we arrived. I pushed myself into a more upright position, hoping it would help me stay awake.

It wasn't long before Erik said, "We are here." Turning the final corner, I saw it.

The Phantom's lair had three levels, each filled with objects, both odd and ordinary. Candelabras stood on every flat surface. A few tall ones sat in the water, lighting our way. The first level had a pipe organ whose stand and bench were littered with sheet music. The second level held a chair and a long table covered in papers, writing tools, a series of odd measuring devices, and a box with a figure of a monkey. On the third level, a magnificent bed in the shape of a swan rested. Red curtains were draped all around the room concealing some of the corners. Mirrors were everywhere: leaning against the walls, resting in any empty space. I wondered why a man with a deformed face would have so many mirrors.

Erik docked the boat and offered me his hand. I took it and stepped out, still marveling at the many things he had in his hidden refuge. He led me up to his organ, and I ran my hand lightly over the keys. Some of them were stained with ink from when he had been writing music and his pen had dripped. I looked at the titles on the music. 'Lullaby for Meg' one read, 'Dancer's Lullaby' said another. "My lullabies," I whispered.

"Yes," Erik replied, standing beside me. I could feel his fingertips resting lightly on my back.

I moved to the next level, observing the objects on the table. Many of the papers had drawings on them. Most sketches were of mechanical things and complex machines that I assumed he had designed, but a few caught my eye. They were of people. My mother was featured in two of the drawings. I admired these, and how he had captured her perfectly. I could see another paper hiding underneath these two drawings, and I gently moved them, revealing one more drawing.

I picked the paper up off of the table. "You drew me?" I said, turning to look at Erik.

Erik smiled and nodded. "Yes," he said once more.

I looked back down at the drawing. My face smiled back at me, a perfect imitation.

"The eyes aren't quite right," Erik said, slight frustration showing in his voice. He pointed to the eyes of the drawing, then raised his hand to my cheek and gently turned my face towards him. He met my gaze, staring into my eyes. "No," he decided finally. He let his hand fall and he moved away, not looking at me. "Your eyes are brighter."

My gaze drifted from him back to the drawing. "I think it's wonderful," I said softly, setting it back on the table. My hand moved over to the box with the figure of a monkey attached to the top. I quickly took in it's red and purple Persian robes and golden cymbals before turning away.

I couldn't help myself now. I yawned, long and deep, lifting my hand to cover my gaping mouth.

Erik saw this. "Come. You are tired." He stepped close to me and put a hand gently around my shoulders. "You can sleep here for the night, and I will return you to your room in the morning." He guided me up to the third level of his domain and over to the swan bed. I got into the bed and arranged myself comfortably. He took my slippers off and set them beside the bed. I watched him step away and pull a tasseled chord that hung from above. Slowly, a slightly transparent black curtain descended around the bed, giving me a bit of privacy.

"Goodnight, Meg," Erik whispered to me.

Within minutes, I was asleep.


	3. Chapter Three

**Chapter Three**

I was awakened the next morning when two strong arms lifted me from where I was sleeping. I knew who was moving me—Erik. He was returning me to my room before my mother got too worried. My head was resting on his shoulder, my forehead against his neck, and his arms were holding me: one under my knees, the other behind my back.

I sighed and pressed myself closer to his chest. I could feel it rise and fall with his calm breathing and, through that, I could faintly feel his heart beating.

"Good morning, Meg," he whispered, his warm breath blowing softly on my face.

I opened my eyes and asked, "Where are we?"

"Not far from your room. We'll be there very soon," he replied, readjusting his hold on me.

"Set me down, I can walk for myself," I said, lifting my head.

Gently, Erik set me on my feet, and I marveled at how warm my skin felt where he had touched me.

I walked slowly, not wanting to reach my bedroom too fast. I knew my mother would be angry with me for going with the Phantom. But I was also angry. I didn't understand why my mother had hidden Erik from me. He was so gentle and honest, I couldn't see why she hadn't introduced us.

"What are you thinking about?" Erik asked softly.

"My mother." I paused and glanced up at Erik. He looked back down at me, his intense, clear eyes taking my breath away. Wondering how just his eyes made me breathless, I looked down at the floor again. "I just don't think she'll be happy knowing I was with you tonight."

Erik was silent, looking at the floor. I could see something—frustration, sadness maybe—on his face and in his eyes. "Madame Giry never wanted me to meet you. When she brought me here, she told me that under no circumstances was I allowed to associate with you." We reached the end of the passageway, and we faced each other. "But it is hard to stay isolated when you know someone will listen."

I put my hand on his arm and met his gaze. I could see the sadness in his eyes, and I wanted to help him, to comfort him, but I knew it was nearly daylight and my mother would soon become worried. "My mother cannot keep me from listening, though she may try. I promise I will always be here to listen," I replied.

The corners of Erik's mouth turned up. "I won't forget that promise, Meg Giry." I couldn't help but smile back.

We stood for a moment, both smiling. Erik stopped smiling first, and I could see that he wanted to say something. But he stayed silent, and instead turned his back on me and busied himself with the opening of the wall. He pulled a couple of levers, and the wall slid away.

Erik turned back to me, and we shared a moment of mutual hesitation. I could still see the unspoken words in his eyes, but I did not press him to reveal them. Instead, I stood on my toes to give him a kiss on the cheek. He looked surprised, and I smiled. "Thanks for the interesting evening," I said softly, then went into my room.

When I turned around, the passage through the wall was closed.

* * *

It wasn't long before my mother discovered that I was back.

"Meg Giry, what do you think you were doing last night?" she asked angrily, opening the door without knocking.

I paused, quickly deciding whether to lie or tell the truth. If I told my mother the truth, she would never let me sleep in my room alone again. So I decided to lie.

"I couldn't sleep, so I wandered around the opera house a bit." It was the best lie I could think up.

"Don't lie to me, Meg. He found you, Erik did. I told him to leave you alone." She paused, taking a few steps towards me. "And I told you he is not a good person to be with."

"I don't understand why you think that. He's so gentle, so quiet. And, besides, he—"

"He's dangerous, Meg! I don't want anything to happen to you."

"Dangerous?" I jumped up from my chair in front of the mirror. "He wouldn't hurt a fly!"

"How well do you know the Phantom? Do you know of his past? Do you know how he reacts to feeling threatened?"

"No, but—"

"And you will never find out. I forbid you to ever see him again."

"No! Mother—"

"And if I ever find that you were with him again, I will make him leave the opera house."

"But Mother, he's lonely. He just wanted someone to listen."

Mother turned away from me and headed back to the door. She suddenly appeared tired, as if this argument had completely exhausted her. "Of all the girls in this opera house, he had to pick my daughter," she said softly. She looked up at me, her eyes sad. "Be careful, Meg."

With that, she exited the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

* * *

My mother did not speak to me about the Phantom again that day. I could tell she was still angry and scared from the strained look on her face. She watched me more closely than she usually did, standing close to me during rehearsal breaks and meals.

I couldn't get my mother's words out of my mind.

_He's dangerous, Meg!_ He didn't seem dangerous to me.

_Do you know of his past? _I didn't. But the question had made me curious.

New questions formed in my mind. Why did my mother think he was dangerous? What happened in his past that she wanted to shield me from? I wasn't sure, but I knew I had to find out. I decided to ask Erik that night when he came to sing.

But he didn't come. I waited for hours, just lying in bed, staring at the ceiling. But he never showed up. My mother came into my room a couple of times, and I pretended to be asleep. But, as soon as she closed the door after herself, I opened my eyes again.

The next night was spent the same way—waiting.

So was the night after that.

And the next five nights after that.

During the days, I was so tired from sleep deprivation that I was falling asleep while I was dancing. I felt hurt that he hadn't returned, and I missed him. The evenings were too quiet without his sweet lullabies. So when I did try to sleep, I jumped at every little sound.

My lack of energy had not gone unnoticed. My mother came to my room one night and pulled a chair over beside the bed.

"Meg, you need to let Erik go," she said softly. "You're falling asleep on your feet during rehearsals. We can't have that."

I didn't say anything.

"I found him. He is not to come back to you again."

My mouth fell open. How could she?

"Now, Meg, I told you he is not safe. I need you to let him go."

I couldn't look at her. I turned my head away, staring at the wall, wishing that the passage would open. But, of course, it didn't.

When I didn't say anything, my mother sighed. She reached out and stroked my hair. "Oh, Meg, what am I to do with you?"

I jerked my head away, not wanting her to touch me. She was no longer my mother, just the traitor who had stolen my Phantom away from me.

She sighed again and stood. "I need you to get over this and get some rest. In a few days, Christine Daae is coming. Her father is very close to death, and I've offered to take her in. She is your age, and I want you two to be friends."

I still remained silent. Tears were forming in my eyes, and all I wanted was for my mother to leave so Erik could come.

"I'm going to move you into the dormitories with the other ballerinas so Christine will have someone there to speak to. The other girls don't listen as well as you do."

"_Why do you sing to me?"_ I remembered asking Erik.

"_Because I know you'll listen when no one else will."_

I wanted to scream. I wanted to run into the labyrinth of passages, find Erik, and hide with him in the depths of the opera house.

My mother blew out the candles, softly wished me a good night, then left.

I couldn't hold it in anymore. I let the tears roll down my cheeks and onto my pillow. I pressed my quilt over my mouth, trying to muffle the sobs, but they still echoed around the room.

I wanted Erik to come. I wanted him to tell me that my mother couldn't keep him away. I wanted him to sing one of my lullabies, to quiet my sobs, and dry my tears.

But he wasn't there.

* * *

I cried until I ran out of tears and my eyes felt too dry. Then I just lay there, feeling hollow, until I finally slipped into a dreamless sleep.


	4. Chapter Four

_**Author's Note:**_

Wow. I suck. It took me entirely too long to update, and I left you with a terrible cliff-hanger. How awful of me. I have no good excuse that I can give. All I can say is that the death of a friend's father really slowed me down.

Anyhow, here's chapter four! Read and, please, review!

~Forest

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**Chapter Four**

I was awakened by someone sitting down on my bed. The mattress bounced slightly, and my legs hit the person's back. I felt a soft hand push my hair out of my face and fingertips brush my jaw. It felt like the person was wearing leather gloves. I opened my eyes to see the Phantom sitting on the edge of my bed.

"Erik!" I sat up and pulled him into a tight embrace. He hugged me back, stroking my hair with one hand. He had come, despite my mother's warning! I was so relieved that he hadn't deserted me that I wanted to cry.

"I thought you were never coming back," I whispered, tears starting to choke me up.

"Your mother told me never to return, but I couldn't desert you," he replied softly. "I was behind the wall when your mother spoke to you about letting me go. I heard you crying, and I felt terrible for listening to her."

What he said pushed me over the edge, and the tears came out, falling onto his shoulder.

Erik pulled away, but only far enough so he could see my face. "Why are you crying?" he asked, taking my face in his hands and wiping away my tears.

"I'm just so happy you're back," I managed to whisper.

Erik said nothing. He pulled me close to him again, and I rested my head on his shoulder. He rocked gently while he held me, and it soothed me.

We sat like that for a few minutes, and I enjoyed his warmth. My tears stopped, and I began to feel tired again.

"Now," Erik said, pulling away and holding me at arms length. "You should get some sleep."

I knew it was true. Reluctantly, I let myself fall back onto the pillows. Erik stood and pulled the cover over me. I could see that he intended to go, so I caught his hand. Our eyes met, and I pleaded, "Don't leave."

Erik smiled down at me and sat on the edge of the bed. "Do you want me to sing to you?" he asked.

"Please do," I replied.

Quietly, he began to sing one of my lullabies. I closed my eyes, listening carefully. He still held my hand as I drifted back into sleep.

* * *

When I awoke, Erik was gone. I remembered the night before, and I smiled. I still couldn't see how he was dangerous, and I realized that I had forgotten to ask about his past. But that could wait. I was just glad to have my Phantom back.

The day passed too slowly. I couldn't wait until the evening when I could ask Erik my questions. I tried to avoid my mother for the day so she wouldn't see my joy and excitement.

That evening, I found a note on my bed. It was accompanied by a beautiful red rose with a black satin ribbon tied around it. I lifted the rose to my nose and smelled it, smiling. I set it back down and picked up the note. The handwriting was elegant, certainly not the normal scrawl that many others used.

_ "Meg,"_ I read. _"Please meet me by the boat tonight."_

Under these words was a list of instructions on how to open and close the wall and how to get to the boat. I ran my finger over Erik's signature, tracing the lines.

My mother had not yet come in to say goodnight to me, so I hid the rose in a drawer. She would know who gave it to me if she saw it. Then, still wearing my day clothes, I slipped into bed, pulling the covers up over my shoulders. Underneath the blankets, I held the note tightly, afraid that I'd lose it in the sheets.

Not long after that, my mother entered my room. She gave me a kiss on the forehead and wished me goodnight. I couldn't wait for her to leave, even though she was only there for a few minutes.

I waited until I heard her footsteps fade away before I got out of bed. I lit a candle and read the note again, this time by section, doing what the note said as I read.

_"Behind the small painting on the wall next to the passageway is a series of seven levers,"_ I read. _"Push the first, fifth, and last up, but leave the others down._"

I carefully removed the painting from the wall and set it on the bed. Just as Erik had said, there were seven levers, all in the downward position. They were at my eyelevel and when I pressed on the first one, I found that it was stuck. I braced myself and put all my weight on it until it slowly slid up. I repeated this action for the fifth and last levers.

As soon as the seventh lever was up, the wall began to slide away to reveal the passageway. The torches were lit, and I decided that Erik must have come through a few hours before to light them.

I put the painting back on the wall just in case my mother returned to check on me, then I stepped into the passageway. I moved to stand underneath one of the torches and continued reading the note.

_"On the left wall is another set of levers. Push the second, sixth, and seventh up to close the wall."_ I did as the note said, and the wall closed. The levers snapped back into the downward position.

I held the note under one of the torches and read the next instructions. _"Continue straight down this passage, passing the first and second possible turns. On the third, take the path to the right."_ I walked quickly, counting the first and second passages, then turning right.

_"Turn left at the second crossroads. Go down the stairs. __Keep close to the banister!__"_ I frowned, wondering why it was so important to stay to the side, but I did as I was told.

_"Take the first right, and continue straight. You will then reach the lake. I will wait for you there."_

My pace quickened, thinking of Erik waiting for me by the boat.

When I reached the lake, he was exactly where he promised to be. He paced beside the boat, wringing his hands and whispering to himself. He looked up when he heard my footsteps, and smiled, his eyes lighting up. "You came," he stated as I approached him.

"Of course," I replied, smiling back. He helped me step into the boat, and I positioned myself on the cushions so I was facing Erik. He untied the boat, then stepped in, picking up the long steering pole. I listened to him sing softly as he guided us, and I thought about what my mother had said about him.

"Erik?"

He looked down at me, smiling.

"Where did you live before my mother brought you here?"

The smile faded from Erik's face and was replaced by one of anger, then transformed into a look of deep sadness. "My past is very dark," he said softly, looking away from me and focused on where he was steering the ship. "I try to avoid those memories."

I instantly felt bad for bringing up such a painful subject. I could see how much it hurt him to remember, and I silently wondered why. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked." I lowered my eyes apologetically.

"I know you're curious, Meg," he whispered. There was a short pause, and I glanced up at him. He had a distant expression on his face, lost in thoughts and memories. "I'll tell you."

My mouth fell open. I hadn't really expected him to answer after his initial reaction to my question. But at least now I'd know the truth.

Erik docked the boat and offered me his hand. I took it and stepped onto the first level of the Phantom's home. He immediately turned away from me, released my hand, and continued to the second level. He stood over the table and moved papers around before finding the one he was looking for. He stared at it for a moment, then handed it to me, avoiding my gaze.

I looked down at the drawing. He had used careful ink lines to create a circus tent. Next to the open tent flap was a sign that read "Devil's Child" in big red letters. Those two words held the only color in the drawing. People stood all around the tent, laughing. I took a closer look at the inside the tent. There was a cage with a small boy inside. The boy had a burlap sack over his head with two slits for eye holes, using it as a makeshift mask. He wore only a torn pair of pants, and held a toy monkey in one hand and a rope in the other.

"My parents thought I was devil's spawn. The first scrap of clothing was a mask to hide my repulsive face, but it wasn't enough. They couldn't stand the fact that they had produced such a hideous child. I never left the house because they were afraid the neighbors would see me. After a few years, my mother decided that she couldn't stand to look at me anymore. Me, the disgusting child who had been claimed by the devil before birth.

"I did everything I could to please them. I taught myself to play my father's old violin, and I wrote them songs. I made them drawings and sculptures of the things they loved." Erik's voice raised in intensity as he spoke. "I always did as I was told, no matter how odd the task. But, in the end, whether I obeyed or not, it was my appearance that they could not get past. They didn't see who I was because they saw only my deformity." Erik pounded his fist on the table and stared down at his hand. He was trembling, and he breathed deeply, as if trying to suppress anger or avoid crying. After a few moments, he relaxed a bit and continued.

"One day, they brought me to the gypsy circus. I thought they were finally rewarding me for my good behavior. But, instead of leading me around and showing me the attractions, they brought me back to a tent occupied by the owner of the circus. They ripped my mask off, and told the owner that they had found me on the street. 'He is the spawn of the devil,' they told the circus owner. 'We refuse to take him in. I've no doubt that you will show him the kindness he deserves.'" Erik's voice shook, but he pressed on, determined to finish his story. "The circus owner gave them a large sum of money, and took me away. I was confused and afraid, and I wanted to go home. But they caged me, tying my leg to the metal bars. I cried and screamed for my parents, but they never came back for me.

"When a crowd gathered in my tent, the circus owner would enter my cage and beat me. The people would laugh and throw money and garbage into my cage. After every beating, the circus owner would take the money from the floor and leave me amongst the garbage, bleeding and crying in pain. For years, no one showed any compassion towards me."

I raised my eyes from the drawing to look at Erik. I was horrified that they had treated him like this.

"Finally, someone saw my pain. Your mother took me from the circus and hid me here. Before I met you, she was the only person who had ever looked past my appearance. I've been living here ever since. I collected all these objects you see, except for the pipe organ, which was already here. At night, I explored the upper floors of the opera house, and, during the day, I mapped out the passageways and traps."

I stepped up to the second level of the Phantom's lair and rested a hand on his shoulder. He put his hand over mine and turned to face me. I set the drawing on the table, then met his eyes. "I had no idea," I whispered.

I don't know what I had expected. He lived in the depths of the opera house, covering his deformed face with a mask, avoiding the watchful eyes of the stagehands. He wrote haunting melodies and drew beautiful, detailed drawings of people, getting every detail correct. He traveled through the hidden passageways, watching the actors and dancers sleep, wishing they would listen. But no one would.

No one but me.

"I knew you would ask eventually. I knew you would become curious." He paused, watching my face carefully. "You are the only one I have ever told. Your mother may have witnessed one of the many horrible beatings I endured, but she knows nothing of my parents."

"I feel awful for bringing back those memories," I said truthfully, looking down at the floor. "You shouldn't have to remember such terrible things." I felt as if I had re-opened a wound that he had been carefully nursing for years.

Erik took my hand in his. "You're helping me heal, Meg, just by listening." He lifted my chin with a gentle finger and whispered, "Do not feel bad."

I met his eyes. In them, I saw a deep trust. I trusted him too…but my mother's comments still puzzled me.

_Do you know how he reacts to feeling threatened?_

_ He's dangerous, Meg!_

Her words echoed in my head and rang in my ears. I pushed them away, forcing them into the back of my mind to contemplate later.

"My mother is moving me into one of the dormitories," I said softly.

"So I heard."

"Will you still be able to sing to me?" I asked, concerned. What would I do if my Phantom couldn't sing to me? I could hardly sleep without his soft lullabies.

"As long as you're in the Opera Populaire, I will be able to sing to you."

I smiled, comforted by his words.

"Ah!" Erik exclaimed suddenly. "I have a new lullaby for you! Would you like me to play it?"

My smile widened, and I nodded enthusiastically. He smiled back, and pulled the chair away from the desk. He gestured for me to sit, and walked quickly over to one of the curtains by the organ. From behind it, he pulled a black leather violin case and a beautifully carved wooden music stand. He put his case on the organ's bench and unpacked it carefully, tightening the bow to his satisfaction and removing the instrument from the case with the utmost care. He removed his gloves, then tuned quickly, turning the pegs with one hand and drawing the bow with his other. When he was satisfied, he grabbed a piece of music off the organ and placed it on the stand.

He set the stand in front of me and prepared to play, putting his violin under his chin and his bow on the string. As he drew the bow, beautiful notes rang from the instrument, echoing through the room.

I couldn't resist. I stood and began to dance, moving gracefully to the music. I met Erik's eyes, and he smiled, so I continued.

I moved as the music told me to. It spoke to me, whispering in my ear, urging me to move this way or that. I spun and dipped, letting the melody take me where it wanted me to go.

It was perfect this way. Erik made the music, and I danced to it. The ideal team. We didn't need a conductor, costumes, or self-centered singers to satisfy our need for music. We just needed each other.

I knew the song would eventually end, but I couldn't help but feel disappointed when it did. I wished that it had gone on forever and ever…

I turned to face Erik, grinning. He held his violin and bow in one hand, holding the other out to me. I stepped close and embraced him. He put his arm around me and whispered, "Your dancing is beautiful."

"I love the new lullaby. It's my favorite."

But, as usual, all good things must come to an end. I remembered that my mother would be looking for me.

I stepped away from Erik. I didn't want to leave, but I didn't want my mother to force Erik out of the opera house.

Erik must have noticed my face fall, because he asked, "What's wrong, Meg?" Concern sounded in his words and filled his ice blue eyes.

"Mother said she'd make you leave if she finds out we saw each other again," I replied abjectly.

Erik didn't speak for a moment. "I wouldn't let her."

"But Mother would…"

"Shh." He put a soft finger on my lips. "I won't leave you."

"Promise?"

Erik smiled, dropping his hand to his side. "Promise."

His words comforted me, and I nodded, satisfied.

Erik turned away and put his violin away, returning the case to its hiding spot behind the curtain. Then he said, "Come. You must return to your room before Madame Giry finds out you've been gone." He walked towards the boat, putting on his leather gloves back on. I followed reluctantly, dragging my feet across the hard stone floor.

As we traveled across the lake, Erik and I spoke of the other opera cast members.

"What do you think of Carlotta?" Erik asked.

I made a face, and he laughed. It was a beautiful sound, a sound I realized I had not heard until now. I smiled triumphantly.

"Carlotta's so narcissistic. She thinks everyone is there to please her," I said.

"I quite agree. She is very egotistical. I wouldn't worry about it, though. Someone will eventually show her that the world does not revolve around her."

"I hope that person comes soon. She's insufferable."

Erik nodded and stepped out of the boat onto the dock. I hadn't realized that we had reached the other side of the lake. I felt a sinking feeling, wishing that I didn't have to leave.

Erik tied up the boat, then offered me his hand. I stepped out, standing close to him.

"I don't want to go," I said softly as we walked towards the entrance of the tunnel.

"I know. But remember what your mother said."

"I remember…But I don't want to obey."

The corners of his mouth turned up. "Feeling a bit rebellious, are we?"

"Just a bit," I admitted as we faced each other.

He placed a light hand on my arm. "Do not worry. I won't disappear again. I'll come and sing to you tomorrow."

He turned to leave, but I caught his arm. "Erik, wait."

Erik turned back to me quizzically.

"I…" My voice waivered, and I realized I had no reason to stop him. Thinking fast, I quickly finished my sentence, "I just wanted to say goodnight."

He looked puzzled. "Alright…Goodnight, Meg."

I don't know what made me do it, but I stepped closer to him, rose onto my toes and kissed him.

Surprised, Erik didn't respond to my lips on his. I pulled away, heat rising in my cheeks.

"Goodnight, Erik," I replied softly, then I entered the passageway.


End file.

Phantom of the Opera, Drama, Romance