A/N: So I know this is wordy. But just let me say that's because I'm obsessed with PotO and I love dissecting every bit of it. Also, it's mainly because, in watching the movie, I always took their facial expressions to be the cover for an abundance of emotions & thoughts even they, themselves, couldn't decipher, so...I tried to put how I thought everyone else (mainly Christine) would be thinking, how their train of thought would chug along, and essentially what was going on inside their minds. You know, what led them to make the decisions they did, that sort of thing. :) So, I hope you enjoy.

P.S.--My grammar might not be too good. I tried to throw in some vocab I rarely use and I'm not sure if I phrased everything just right!

Christine had been scared beyond belief, that night, underground, with those two completely opposite men. She had been terrified. And so she'd left.

"Christine, my God," Raoul said, as they settled into a carriage. His pants were still wet from the murky lake water beneath the Opera House.

"Please, Raoul." Christine said shakily. "Don't."

She wasn't ready to talk about it.

Nor did she believe she'd ever be.

So they rode on in silence.

Suddenly, Raoul spoke. "The ring?" He asked quietly.

Christine looked to this man, her still-secret fiancé. Love swelled in her heart.

But it was not solely reserved for him.

No. And it would never be. She would never be able to look at Raoul, whom she loved so deeply, and feel pure love rise within her. The time for that was gone, long past. It had been for a while. But she was just beginning to realize it.

And to whom did she owe this?

The other man. The one she'd just left behind…for good.

Or so it seemed.

"Darling…" Raoul started awkwardly, as they sat at the dinner table, 3 days later.

It felt like 3 years.

Already, Christine was filled with more loneliness than she ever could've imagined. And how could this be? She was with him. This was her happy ending.

But somehow, she felt…incomplete. Vacant. Absent. Like she was watching her empty body on Earth, hovering above, as a soul.

Raoul's family had visited the day before. They had all been excited at the prospect of an upcoming wedding. Christine could not get it off her mind as well—for all the wrong reasons.

"Raoul," She said softly, looking up from her plate. "I need to speak to you. About something."

"Yes, of course, my love," He said, seemingly taken aback. "What is it?"

Christine was horrified to feel tears coming to her eyes. She couldn't believe she was doing this.

"Oh, Raoul, I love you so much," She breathed, and he rushed to her side, taking her into his arms.

"I know that, my dear," He cooed. "I know that. But whatever is the matter?"

"I love you, Raoul. I love you. I love you so much…"

"Christine, you're frightening me," Raoul's brow furrowed.

"I can't stay." She gasped.

"What?" Raoul's arms went limp around her.

"I can't stay here. I can't stay with you."

"But…" A look of total heartbreak came over Raoul's face. "Christine, help me understand. Please." She couldn't take the despair in his eyes. But it doesn't even begin to compare with the misery I've seen in other eyes. She thought.

"Raoul, you must believe me. And please, oh, God, please forgive me," She sobbed.

Immediately, his arms tightened again, as he leaned forward so that he could rock her back and forth reassuringly.

"Explain, my love," He said gently.

"Nothing would give me greater joy than to marry you, and spend the rest of my life with you," She started, sniffling. "But I can't. I can't do it."

"Why ever not?" Raoul seemed confused, hurt. "Is it because of…? Oh, Christine, my sweet…"

"It's not you, it's not what happened…it's none of that…I just…I must leave. I need to go away. I need to get a fresh start. And I can't take you with me." Christine began to sob once more, her body racking with the intensity of it, as tears spilled down her cheeks, creating puddles on the tile floor.

"But, Christine, I love you. I swear, no one will ever love you as I do," Raoul said, begging.

"I know that. I know that, Raoul. And I believe you. But I…I need to do this."

Raoul sat back, balancing on his heels, although he looked as if he'd faint any moment.

"Whatever you must do, do it." He sighed sadly. "I truly do love you, with all of my heart, my dear, and, if you feel you need this…I will let you. I have no other choice."

"Thank you." Christine managed a broken smile through her tears. He was always so accepting, so understanding.

A tear softly ran down Raoul's cheek. "When must you go?" She could see in his eyes he was not prepared to loose her. Her heart slowly cracked, watching his crestfallen face morph into an expression of pure despair.

"As quickly as possible." Christine said, feeling it the right answer, the right thing to say.

"Then I will help you." Raoul got up, offering a hand to lift her to her feet. Such a gentlemen. Such a perfect prince…

And so, Raoul helped Christine pack her few things—most of which he'd bought her. He gave her a suitcase for her belongings, and led her outside, towards his own personal carriage, which would deliver her to the boarding docks.

"I do not fully understand your decision," Raoul said, hastily. "But I will support it, because I support you, and everything you do. Just know, Christine, that, however far apart we are, I will always love you. And I hope you'll feel my love, even on the other side of the world, despite the oceans you must cross to separate us. And I shall never forget you, or the gifts your love brought me. I will think of you always."

Christine nodded, teary-eyed once more, and embraced her love--her once-fiancé. "I love you, too, Raoul, and I will miss you more than words can express." She said, her voice quivering.

"Take this." Raoul handed her a purse, heavily weighted with money. "I couldn't stand to know you might be uncared for, even for one moment." He smiled dismally.

"Goodbye, my love, my dear, my sweet," Raoul kissed her hand as Christine stepped into the carriage. "Have a safe trip. And enjoy your new life; your new start. Make the most of it."

Christine nodded once more, climbing fully into the carriage and shutting the door behind her, tears waiting inside of her eyes, ready to spring out at a moment's notice. But she would not allow that, not now, not ever.



Christine felt the carriage rock as the horses galloped away from Raoul's large home. She was leaving him behind. Her heart was completely numb. She couldn't feel a thing anymore. She doubted she ever would. But she would try her best to make him proud. She would aim for a great life. She would continue to sing, even once she'd arrived at her far-off destination.

She avoided looking anywhere but outside the window. Looking at the interior of the carriage just reminded her how much she was giving up.

As they passed the Opera House, Christine's armor cracked. She was no longer numb. Staring at that large, gorgeous building, pain flooded her heart and mind; she could think of nothing but that place, all that had happened there. She couldn't help it. She broke out into the sobs she'd been holding in so well before, just glimpsing that life-changing landmark. Masks floated into her mind's eye. Her whole memory rushed back, every single memory of the Opera House invading at once, leaving her weak and almost lifeless. She saw his face. His. She saw him. She heard his voice. She heard his organ, playing powerfully and beautifully, echoing through the underground caverns. She saw his underground chambers—so beautiful, but to him, nothing more than a prison. She listened to his song. She felt his lips upon hers, she could've sworn she felt the warmth of his hands on her body, moving down her neck, her hips.

Sucking in breath, she tried to forget. She tried to do as he'd said and forget it all. But it was useless, impossible. To think that she could ever begin to repress those memories was a preposterous request--demand. What had happened there, to her, to him, was something no one else could possibly understand. Every single breath she took in that building was monumental. Every song she sang there frightfully risky, and so incredibly...ambiguous. No one would ever understand. No one could ever grasp the complete & total clarity she'd had inside that Opera House. No one would ever be able to begin to imagine how she'd felt.

Christine saw images flash in her mind. Roses, black ribbon, candles, veils…even her fantasies could not be kept at bay. Things that had never happened, things she had imagined and felt bad about later, were all rushing back. The thought of him caused her to reach out, touching the nothingness in the carriage she so desperately wished could morph into who she longed for. The only one she longed for. Raoul--she'd had him. And in a way, she'd had Him, too, but his untouchable-type persona provided a rush of mystery and forbidden passion no one could resist, not even her, when she was more determined than ever before.

Oh, how she'd loved Raoul. She had loved him. But Erik…Erik…his name sent shivers down her spine. Every glance at a mirror, every glimpse of her reflection…she was helpless when the thought of him arose. Her angel. Her Angel. Her Angel of Music…her dark side. Her deepest wish that she hated, and only in her dreams could ignore. No; not even then. He came into every aspect of her life. Even in sleep she was not free of him. She would never be rid of him, his memory, and the remembrance of all that defined her time with him: how he'd tutored her, how he'd guarded her, but, more than that, his touch. The way he made her feel. The way tortured her so incredibly gently with illicit pleasure.

How she'd known. She'd known she shouldn't have loved him. She'd known she shouldn't have given into him, his powers. But that was just it; he had powers. Powers over her. And though she wished she could be in control, oh, God, it felt so good not to be. It was such a relief to just let go in his presence, when time with him meant time she could savor down to the last second. She knew she should be uncomfortable around him. But, to her astonishment, she wasn't. They just…fit. She had no idea what it was. Perhaps they were kindred spirits. Whatever it was, he had an ability to get inside her head; he had the power to evoke desire from her instantaneously. And, secretly, though Raoul had never fully known, she loved that. She loved not having to think.

She had just understood Erik, her Angel, the Phantom of the Opera. He had understood her, though, to some, they couldn't seem more different. But to her, they could just barely be more alike. Their souls were entwined. Their paths were destined to collide.

Christine always contradicted herself when thinking about him. They were alike--no, they were opposites. He was evil--no, he was just scarred. This power...over her thoughts, her opinions of people...she had been born knowing to avoid it. And yet, she felt so attracted to it she could barely refrain from him; could barely maintain the necessary distance between the two of them.

She was always forced to forgive him. He was the one person she couldn't stay mad at, though he certainly had the most reason to arouse such anger. After all, he was everything she had been raised hating; despising, even. A murderer. Someone who hid from the world. He was, in the biggest ways, her opposite. Where she wouldn't dare harm someone else—it was just something she had never been able to bring himself to do—he killed without a second thought. Where she craved sunlight like blood in her veins, he lived his life underground, in the shadows. But she knew this did not make him content with the life he led.

And, despite the fact she wished she didn't, she saw past all of this. She saw past his horrifying disfigurement, she saw past his lurking ways, she saw past his determination to despise the world. She saw the man behind the mask. Just as he'd asked her to do. He was not a monster; he was a beautiful soul, trapped in a disfigured and unfitting body.

That was the most important thing to her. There was someone behind that mask. A man. With thoughts, feelings, passions. He was a genius. He may have been vicious, at times. But he knew how to love as no one else she'd ever known knew how. He saw every bit of beauty in her. Why he may have grown strong hatred for most people, he saw her as the person every girl wished to be. He saw her as a goddess. He saw her the way a woman could never see herself: perfect.

She could not deny that she loved this. She had to admit it. She had to admit that being with him made her feel whole. Because he had done everything for her; she realized that now. He had given her the only thing he thought he had to offer: his music. And, even when she saw his other possibilities for things to give, and was more or less blind to his misgivings, she knew that music was the thing he had the most of—the most of to sacrifice, to present with…a flourish, so to speak.

Yes, it was true. She loved him. She loved him with all she had left of her, now that she'd lost so much else. She'd met him when she was an innocent, unknowing of the world's cruelties, believing that even the tragic death of her own father had been fate, and controlled by heaven. And he was the antithesis of all that she was made up of, back then. He had seen nothing from humanity except for a lack of compassion, had no feelings directed towards him other than one of 'necessary destruction'. All he knew in this world, this life, his life, was just how cruel people could be.

She had longed for an Angel of Music. She had wanted to see what else the world could offer, besides the life she had known. And then he had appeared, all of the sudden, inside of her mirror; an answer to her prayers. And then she'd gotten to know him. And realized that he wasn't the picture of an Angel as others would imagine. But he was still an Angel to her. Her Angel. And

soon, that admiration, the fondness, that feeling of serendipity, washed away. And new emotions were left in its place, feelings she'd never known. She wanted something new and something thrilling. Yes, she had loved before. She had known Raoul in childhood, and loved him so dearly, even then. But this opened up doors, to passion, lust, drama. And, still, underneath all of that, there still lied the love everyone else longs to know. The acceptance, the indefinable...love. It was the completed version of all she'd had before, with anyone else whom she'd shared similar feels with. Just…indescribable.



Looking to the Opera House, all her senses became hyper alert. She could smell Raoul on that rooftop, in the snow. She could taste Raoul, on that rooftop, in that ballroom. Underneath that was the electric shock sent down her spine by Erik, the warm, cozy feeling she got when she herself touched Raoul; everything was coming back now. She was the opposite of safe. Her own emotions now had the capability to destroy her, from the inside out.

Christine let herself continue to mourn the voluntary loss of two men she'd loved beyond compare, and would love forever despite it all. She knew leaving wouldn't help. She knew she couldn't escape this sorrow that ravaged her body and soul. But she also knew that staying would be unbearable. She knew that every day she looked to that Opera House, she would not be able to forget. She knew that every time she looked at Raoul, who would've been her husband, she would've seen his terrorized face as Erik held him captive, and she would've heard the crack in Erik's voice as he let them go. Together. He allowed them to leave with each other. He was giving consent.

That was another thing that made Christine's body tense at the slightest mental, internal, mention—just a brief whisper inside her mind of those words her Phantom had spoken sent her into a flurry, unable to relax. He'd let them go. He'd asked them to go. He'd wanted her to marry Raoul. She'd wanted, herself, to marry Raoul. And she couldn't. So, not only was she betraying her own heart & future, but she was also ignoring her Angel's wishes, something she'd never intended to do, for it brought her too much pain and guilt. Unending suffering, that was her fate.

Why had she left the Phantom? Why had she abandoned her Erik? Right after promising him he wasn't alone, she left him just as he was before. Alone. And now she herself was alone as well. Neither of them was better off. Raoul was alone, too. All three parties involved in that devastating love triangle were now worse off—lonely and abandoned. She shivered at the thought of the three of them, living separate, yet equally torturous lives, a retched existence knowing nothing but suffering from this point on. (Well, hopefully they would move on...but Christine was not so sure. Even moving on physically did not mean moving on fully.)

Which did nothing but arouse more thoughts of her Angel. His life had been one tumultuous horror after another. At least she and her Raoul had led good lives, up until this point. But Erik? He had known nothing in this world except hurt. And she was doing nothing to help that, nothing to take that away, nothing to eliminate his revulsion with humankind. She'd only fueled the already-livid fire; only added to the sting of being deserted which he'd had to subsist since the moment he took his first breath. Which he'd probably have to continue to experience until he drew his last. Oh, why did she have to depart from him when he needed her most? He hated himself, she knew that. And yet she did nothing to eradicate it! She could've taken away all of that. She could've abolished his self-loathing once and for all. But instead she'd chosen the easy way out, and she was in turmoil over that very fact. She'd just gone on to hurt more people even more. She was ruining everything! Oh, God, she was corrupting the very essence of life itself! Because what is the core of humanity's being? Love. And she was tarnishing just that—the purity of the heart and it's faith, it's ability to love and it's hunger for love in return.

At that very moment, Christine was filled with such a feeling self-detest that it knocked the breath right out of her. Stop it. She thought to herself. Stop thinking of this right now. It will not, CANNOT, reverse the mistakes of your past. There is no point. But then again, there didn't seem to be much of a point to anything anymore.

A/N: If you just took the time to read all that, thank you so much! Any feedback is so greatly appreciated...seriously, I'll remember it forever! :)

Part 2 coming if I get enough readers.

And that one will focus on Erik. Plus, there's a REUNION! (upcoming. If I get readers ;)