Hello! I'm back!

This is a BRAND NEW phan-fic…has nothing to do with my others…so get them OUTTA YOUR HEAD! (Or go read them now…lol)

This story will be slightly supernatural, but still as realistic as possible. It is set in modern times with an eventual E/surprise guest reunion…you'll have to wait to see who, but I bet you can guess!

Standard disclaimers apply. I do not own POTO. I take a lot of creative liberty and have a writing style some people find "choppy." If you can get past those things, then we're gonna have a good time!

As always, ask and ye shall receive!

Enjoy

Nico

Erik believed he was the only person in the entire world who truly understood the meaning of "eternity."

His fingers swept over the glistening ivory keys of his newest purchase…a magnificent black grand piano. His mouth tugged into a slight smile as he struck a note, appreciating the satisfying sound that resulted.

Musical instruments were one of the few things in this world that were made better with modernity.

As if to give an example of the antithesis of improvement, an airplane could be heard somewhere overhead, shaking the walls of Erik's lavish mansion with an irritating rumble.

The sound was followed with another annoying noise…the ringing of his nearly ancient front door bell.

He grumbled, standing up from his piano, stretching muscles that had no need to be stretched.

Erik made his way down the winding staircase of his home, approaching the enormous front entryway with an unhurried pace. He pulled the heavy latch open, squinting as sunlight streamed into the darkness of his home. Standing on the marble porch was Edwin…Erik's accountant for the past ten years.

Edwin smiled broadly, walking into the foyer. "Erik," he greeted his client in his usual chipper voice. "How is the land of darkness and despair?"

Erik sighed, closing the door behind the red-headed accountant. "I am in no mood, Edwin," he replied, turning to face Edwin.

Edwin wore what Erik had come to accept as the standard costume for the working man in the year 2005…a long, heavy black coat, a hideous black pin-striped suit complete with shiny black shoes and an equally unflattering pressed shirt underneath. A tie was knotted at his throat, dark sunglasses hid his small blue eyes, and a celluar phone was attached to his waist.

Erik particularly hated the electronic phone. He hated the jarring tones that seemed to constantly interrupt a smooth-flowing conversation.

"Ah, you're never in the mood," Edwin replied, placing his leather briefcase on one of the gilded tables in the foyer. "It's a shame, really," the accountant continued, unlatching his briefcase and pulling a thick packet of paperwork from the inside. "Especially at this time of year," he concluded, handing Erik the paperwork and clicking a pen for his use.

"This time of year is no different from any other," Erik replied, signing several papers after scanning their contents.

"It's nearly Christmas, Erik," Edwin replied, watching as his strangest client signed his name over and over, almost angrily. "I think you're the only person who remains unaffected by the beauty of this season."

"Beauty," Erik scoffed, handing Edwin the completed paperwork. "There is no beauty left in the world," he added bitterly.

Edwin sighed. When he had first accepted the strange recluse standing before him as a client, he had been frightened by the man who always wore a gleaming white mask. Erik was persistently morbid, almost always negative, and nearly completely cut off from society.

Edwin pitied Erik. In the past ten years, he was always alone. Edwin knew that the only time Erik left his bleak home was when he took in a performance at the Paris Opera House. Even then, he would arrive after the overture and leave before the finale. Rumors flew across Paris each time Erik appeared in Box Five, the only suitable seating in the entire Opera House, as far as Erik was concerned.

Being the most eccentric man in Paris's accountant had it's benefits, though…Erik paid him well…so well, in fact, that Edwin could survive solely on the salary Erik provided.

It completely compensated Edwin for the aggravation of addressing the questions that arose from nearly everyone who knew of Erik's existence.

The most common of which was about the mask…the ivory presence that was seemingly the root of all Erik's gloom.

"Is there anything else?" Erik asked, his right eyebrow raised.

Edwin shuffled and cleared his throat uncomfortably, realizing that he had been staring at the mask for an inappropriate amount of time. "No…no that should do it," Edwin replied, placing the paperwork back into his briefcase. "I'll be delivering these to the Opera House personally today, it's on my way to the airport."

Erik nodded.

"I'm going home for the holidays," Edwin continued, although Erik did not ask for an explanation.

"Safe travels," Erik replied cordially, walking back over to the entryway.

Edwin followed slowly. "And do you have anything planned, Erik?" He asked against his better judgment.

Erik's eyes widened a bit, as if surprised by the question.

Then he shook his head. "This holiday has no personal meaning for me," Erik said quietly. "Therefore, I see no need to change my routine."

Edwin nodded. "Well, Merry Christmas, Erik." Edwin extended his hand.

Erik stared at the extended appendage for a moment before clasping it briefly.

A blast of cold shot up Edwin's arm, causing the young man to pull his hand away more quickly than he had intended.

"G..goodbye, Erik," Edwin said nervously, pulling his coat closed against the cold Paris evening.

Erik watched the man hurry to his waiting car, pulling off noisily into the darkening night.

As he closed the heavy doors, his eyes caught on a large painting hanging above the fireplace in the foyer.

It had been painted by him, from painful memories and stolen moments.

It depicted the only thing he believed was worth living for.

It was her.