Hello, all. Yes, I'm still alive. Yes, I still read fanfiction occasionally. You haven't heard from me in over a year, so sorry! (My writer's block gets pretty nasty. And a lack of knowing where to go with my stories doesn't help.) But, here's my newest story, 'Avec Amour.' (If you're wondering, it translates from French into 'With Love.') Oh, and it's really annoying when this website deletes your parenthesis. Just though I'd throw that out there, since this story uses them frequently.

Let the drama begin.

***

Erik felt more like a child than ever, sitting and bawling his eyes out. The cymbal monkey sitting in front of him didn't help his emotions, as it clapped to the chorus of Masquerade. The events that had taken place seemed to shatter his heart, then stomp on little pieces until they were reduced to dust. He almost had to smirk: it sounded more like a dramatic poem than reality.

How could Christine choose that ignorant fool over him? How could he take away the only person who would ever understand what music meant to him? The only person on this Earth that could make him understand the concept of love? The entire world was against his being, and he was soon realizing that he was simply unlovable. He wished he could just end it all; he'd take the wrath of Hell over his current life.

Tip, tap, tip, tap. He recognized the noise to be footsteps outside the room. Good, he thought, people. Kill me. Put a stop to my misery, just do it now and get it over with...

He glanced behind - seeing his killer was his last, simple wish - and gasped.

"Christine," he whimpered under his breath.

Erik hastily wiped his eyes as she entered the room. It made no difference to him, but he had to check to see if he were hallucinating. Was this really the girl who had just left him in despair? There was no way, no chance, but there she was standing before him. It was surreal, to see her looking almost regretful of her choice. He got up from the chair, keeping his stare on her, afraid to look away. Once he was standing upright, another figure entered the room and grasped it's hand on her shoulder. It was Raoul.

Damn it all.

"What...?" he asked, staring at them both in utter confusion. Was this all a terrible dream? Was she back to torture some more, leaving him in an even larger pit of depression and self-hatred?

Christine started to open her mouth, but Raoul stopped her with his finger. "Sssh. Let me explain," he interrupted quickly, leaving his fiancée with a highly annoyed expression.

"Well, as you can see. Christine was... absolutely crushed to leave you." He spat out the words like venom, an obvious distaste for his lover's feelings. "And, I cannot have my future bride in such a state. As much as it pains me to admit it, I think she may need to be near you at times, to be able to know that you will be all right. She feels that you are lonely." The Phantom could see the utter hatred in his eyes and features, and returned it with even more power.

"So, what are you saying?" Erik asked delicately, messing with his temper. "You are going to give me to her, like she's some kind of plaything?"

"Absolutely not," he barked in response. "I propose a..."

"Trade-off?" he offered.

"Well, yes, I suppose." Raoul wrinkled his nose.

He stared back. "Absurd."

"I'm so sorry, Christine, I love you with all my heart and know this must sound awful to you. This was, however, your idea, and I realized when you told me that you'd feel horrid if you left the Phantom all alone..." he trailed off hopelessly.

"It's okay, Raoul." She smiled, and her face seemed to have a new glow to it, brighter. Happier. She couldn't bring herself to choose between the two men, and this was, in a way, choosing both. This was the best of both worlds; to Christine and Christine alone.

Erik raised an eyebrow. "So, Raoul, explain to me the details of this trade-off." The added emphasis was not to be used for any other reason but than to anger him.

He balled his fists, as if he were ready to attack. "I am to have Christine to myself, without disturbance, every weekday. You may visither on the weekend. She will still marry me and be with me forever, but you can be her acquaintance. Deal?" He spoke quickly, hating every word of what he had said.

He stared as though it were the most obvious answer he could ever give. "Yes, deal. And, what do you mean by visit?"

Christine rolled her eyes, and could guess what thoughts were running through his sick mind.

"That means you are allowed to be with her under supervision"- she glared, and he threw his arms up hopelessly -"fine, alone, then. You can see her alone, but if you even so much as touch her or go near her, I swear your head would make a nice decoration on my wall."

Erik nodded barely, as the two men shook hands apprehensively. Raoul turned to Christine.

"Are you positive this will be good for you?"

She glanced to the Phantom, and back to him with a genuine smile. "Yes."

He nodded in what seemed to be defeat, and, taking his future bride by the hand, started to climb into the boat.

"It is Thursday today, Phantom, so you may see her in two days," he called behind him. "And, in that time, I suggest you put a stop to the fire going on upstairs. This is quite a nice opera house, and if you ever want to see Christine perform again..." He shrugged his shoulders, pushing off and down into the tunnel.

That was all that needed to be said, and Erik was preparing the water.

***

Yeah. I really would love to see Raoul dead, but Christine being trapped with the Phantom and miserable would be boring to write. Then again, you never know what's going to come up in future chapters.

Reviews and (helpful) criticism would be nice, please and thank you!