Author's Note- Phantom of the Opera, one of my personal favorites, leaves a large hole opened at the end for the viewer to imagine. I'm just toying with that hole to see what I can come up with. This is just a one-shot, but if you like it I'll continue it.

Just remember to review!

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When we last saw the poor Opera Ghost, he was in a right sorry state, having just been fully exposed as a hideously deformed genius and a blonde in front a full house, during his own opera! As if the whole exposure thing wasn't enough, now the patrons of the Opera Popular will never know the music he has written.

Our O.G. plans to take Christine and live the rest of his days with her in the vaults of the theatre. But alas! She couldn't see past his violent tendencies and facial infliction. Plus she was already engaged to Rauol but that wasn't such a big thing. Just kill the git and marry the girl, right? WRONG! The stupid patrons and a few armed guards decided to hunt the murderer down. How sweet. They were pouring salt into the already opened wound.

Poor O.G., nobody thinks that perhaps there is a reason for his little (okay, ENORMOUS) obsession with Christine. Nobody thinks this whole situation out, except our little Meg Giry. Ah, Meg! She knows, from hanging around with Madam Giry, that something more went on with the Phantom and Christine. And she intends to find out. While all the Phantom Hunters are tearing apart O.G.'s lair, she grabs his mask and makes for the mirror. There, of course, she finds it broken. Without wasting a second, she runs the length of the passage to Christine's dressing room, which is engulfed in flames.

"There was no need to come." O.G. whispers as Meg kneels down beside him. He lays sprawled on the floor sobbing silently.

"But I came anyways." Meg coos as she places his mask on his face.

He rolled his eyes at her sympathy, feeling quite bitter towards the world as he should.

"When you first took her," Meg hesitated as O.G. shot her a dark look. She knew it would be all too easy for him to throttle her with his bear hands. He definitely had enough anger to do it. But she continued:

"When you first took her, what happened?"

At this, the depressed O.G. groaned and sat up slowly.

"I thought she would understand that there are other reasons to stay with me besides love." He stated flatly. Meg's eyes widened. "She'll understand soon enough. Oh Christine! Forgive me!"

He collapsed to the ground in another wave of anguish and moaned into his hands. Meg looked around quickly. The fire was growing quite hot and it wouldn't be a bad idea to get O.G. out of here.

"Shall we go then?" She asked brightly.

"Where? Nowhere. There's no place for me now." He looked up at Meg, "Unless you would do the honors of burring me alive or something."

"Well let's go." She grabbed O.G. by the hand and pulled him to his feet. He followed her through the mirror again a down the long hall. She took a sharp right as they were headed for the lake.

Meg waved her free hand as he began to protest. When they reached the small room with mourning candles, she stopped.

"Have you ever considered the catacombs?"

"Lovely." O.G. said sarcastically when Meg stopped in the graves beneath the city. Bones were piled along the walls and a faint, persistent drip of water could be heard.

"Mother and I are going to be staying in an apartment near by for the time being. She hid you once, so I guess it would be my turn." Meg tossed her hair importantly.

"Family tradition." Sneered the sulking O.G.

"Yes." Meg said without noticing, "I'll be back in the morning."

"You shouldn't have come." O.G. repeated once more.

"But I did anyways." Meg turned to leave but paused, "Oh, and…do you want anything from up there? Perhaps a new wig?"

O.G. sank down to the floor and leaned his head back and laughed. His eyes filled with tears of an indeterminable emotion as he laughed. When he had finished, he wiped his eyes and looked at Meg.

"Yes. A new wig would be just grand thanks." He said in a steely tone. "My opera house has just been burned to the ground, an insolent BOY has taken my…has taken Christine, and YOU want to know if I need a new WIG?! WHAT DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND ABOUT SOLITUDE?!"

Meg stared blankly at him, blinked twice then asked,

"No wig then?"

"No." O.G. sank to the floor once again, "No wig."

As Meg climbed the ladder she distinctly heard Masquerade being hummed mixed with soft sobbing and moaning of 'Christine.'