"Aha!" Éponine shouted, pointing her finger at the masked man wandering the catacombs.

He wasn't a myth, after all. After only one day at the Opera Populaire, Éponine managed to do something that no one else could: seek out the infamous opera ghost. She couldn't help but feel rather pleased with herself. Nobody else that she knew of had accomplished this much.

The man stopped dead in his tracks and took a step toward her, a look of puzzlement playing across his features.

"Who are you?" He inquired. "I haven't seen you around here before."

"That is not your concern," she snapped. Hesitantly, she added, "But if you must know, I was told that I'm to replace a Ms. Christine Daaé."

At this, he gave a bitter chuckle. She didn't press for an explanation. Although she barely knew him, he struck her as the type of person who wouldn't give that sort of information lightly. And given the fact that he was a total stranger, she thought it wise not to ask for details regarding his personal life.

"Erik Destler," he said, extending his pale hand.

"Éponine Thénardier," she replied coolly. After internally debating with herself for several seconds, she shook his hand, which she was rather surprised to feel a sort of warmth radiating from it.

It took awhile for one of them to finally pull away from the handshake. When the tension became too much, Éponine quickly snatched her hand out of his firm grasp.

"Forgive me, mademoiselle," Erik uttered in a low voice. He leaned in closer to her and murmured, "But this isn't the place for a young girl to be exploring after dusk. You could be hurt."

She shoved him away from her. Raising an eyebrow, she retorted, "Forgive me, monsieur, but you have no business interfering with the way I live my life. I've certainly come across more frightening enemies than yourself."

A wicked grin casted itself upon his face and he bellowed, "Enemy, you say? Now, now, my dear. You haven't seen anything, yet. The worst is yet to come!"

And with a swish of his ebony cape, he was gone.

Or so he thought.

Before he could run off, Éponine quickly grabbed his cape, preventing him from escaping. She yanked the cape and pulled him toward her before he had time to realize what was happening. Glad to have the upper hand, once again, she yanked the cape once more to bring him even closer. When she finally had him right where she wanted, she sneered, "Thought you could get away, didn't you?"

"Let go of me!" Erik roared.

"I'm rather happy right where I have you."

In response, he sang, "You will curse the day you did not do/All that the Phantom asked of you!"

Bursting into a fit of laughter, she wiped a tear from her eye and replied, "You certainly have a flair for the dramatics, Monsieur Destler. You're even worse than my Marius!"

She stopped. She hadn't meant to mention Marius to this man. After she witnessed Marius's first meeting with Cosette a few nights ago, Éponine's father announced that he was forcing her to go to the Opera Populaire to assist him and her mother in paying the bills. Since then, she hadn't seen Marius. But right at that moment, he was likely sleeping behind the barricade with the rest of the Les Amis de l'ABC. If not that, her one love could already be dead and gone.

Erik raised an eyebrow and asked, "Marius, you say? Pontmercy?"

"H-How did you...?

"I did some business with his grandfather. It was ages ago, but he mentioned his troublesome grandson Marius. And it isn't that common of a name."

"How long ago was this?" She demanded.

"Maybe five or six years ago. I wouldn't mind telling you more if you don't mind letting go."

"No."

"Fine, then."

He kicked her down to the floor and proceeded to run off, again. Despite the searing pain in her abdomen, she made an effort to rise up and chase after him. This time, though, he really was gone.

The next night, Éponine snuck out of bed and into the vacant prima donna dressing room. During rehearsal, she overheard Meg Giry going on and on about how the full-length mirror held a not-so-secret passageway that led straight to the Opera Ghost's lair. None of the ballerinas believed her, and the ones who did looked too frightened to try and seek him out. But Éponine kept quiet and decided to use that information to her advantage.

The passageway between the dressing room and his 'lair' could be perceived as quite frightening. She didn't blame the other ballerinas for not wanting to venture out here; the conditions were less than ideal. The tunnel was cold, dark and wet, but for some reason, she found it beautiful. Not the type of beauty that most people see. It was a different kind. A darker sort of beauty that one could only appreciate if they had a certain view of the world.

When she reaches the bottom of the stairwell, Éponine was amazed by all that she saw. From the organ in the center of the room to the mesmerizing illumination of the candles, this place was perfect. Strangely, it was the closest thing she'd ever felt to a home.

"Looking for something?" His haunting voice echoed through the underground.

When she turned around, she saw Erik standing behind her. With his slick black hair, dapper suit and white mask, he fitted right into the setting. This place seemed to almost mirror him. In him, she saw the same dark beauty that she found herself appreciating in his home.

And undoubtedly without a second though, Éponine did the unthinkable. "Kiss me," she blurted. Before either of them had time to think, she held his face in her unkempt hands and joined their lips together in a passionate kiss.

Pulling away, Éponine looked shocked upon her own actions. She took a few stumbling steps back. "I-I'm sorry." She murmured without looking at Erik's masked face.

She turn and ran without a second thought. As she ran back towards the dressing room, she could only think of how stupid she had been. She was falling into the same trap that she was stuck in for so many years with Marius. With Erik's dark charms, he had probably already seduced some other young ballerina. Another Cosette. Another blonde, spoiled rich girl who was better than Éponine in every way.

"Éponine!" She heard him call.

Ignoring his pleas for her to return, she simply ran to the boat, went across the lake, back up the flight of stairs, through the passageway in the mirror, into the catacombs, and finally to her warm, safe bed. Somehow, though, the way that she felt in warmth and the safety of her own bed were inferior to her feelings underground with Erik.

Days later, Éponine felt emptier than ever. Word had reached the Opera Populaire that all of the students fighting in the battle had died. As much as she regretted her lack of participation in the battle, she constantly reminded herself that had she been by Marius's side, she would have died without meeting Erik. Even if she could have saved his life, it wasn't worth sacrificing her own happiness for him. Especially considering that her love was unrequited.

She hadn't seen Erik since their kiss. She wished with all her heart that she could undo it and go back to the way her life used to be, but something about him intrigued her. Maybe it was how a dark air constantly hung over him, or it could be the sophistication that he carried with him.

Or it just might be the constant twinkle of sadness she saw in his eyes. The fact that he obviously had money, yet willingly isolated himself from the world.

Éponine wasn't a fool. She saw his expression when she mentioned Christine Daaé. She saw the little ring that he wore on his left pinky. And she was certain that Christine abandoned Erik for some fop in the same way that Marius abandoned Éponine for Cosette. Perhaps she was just overanalyzing the situation in her desperation to find similarities between her and Erik, but either way, she knew that she and Erik needed each other.

But the next time, it was Erik who decided to seek out Éponine. After finishing rehearsal one day, she heard his hauntingly beautiful voice ringing through the opera house.

"He's here!" Meg Giry screamed. "The Phantom of the Opera!"

Éponine shushed her and proceeds to follow the voice. She wandered up to the stage rafters, nearly plunging downwards onto the stage on multiple occasions. Thankfully, she reached him with her body intact. She heard the ballet instructor, Madame Giry, shouting up to her and ordering her to return immediately, but she ignored her.

"You came," he said with a smile.

"That I did," she replied.

She stepped towards the masked man and became dangerously close to him. He was significantly taller than her, towering over the girl by about half a foot. He closed the space between them, planting a gentle kiss on her lips which soon transformed into a passion-filled moment between the two lovers.

Éponine managed to forget everything except her and Erik. The ballerinas down below, his past with Christine Daaé, and even Marius. All were simply matters of the past. Insignificant compared to what she and Erik were. In that moment, she could swear that he was her one true love.

When the two finally separated, Éponine insisted that he take her down to his home. She just loved the way that she felt when she was down there, especially when he was beside her. Down there, when she was with him, she could forget all about her parents and Marius. For once in her miserable life, she could be happy.

So, they snuck backstage and made their way to the prima donna dressing room. After trekking through the mirror, down the flight of stairs, and across the lake, they eventually found themselves in Erik's home, once again.

"Would you like to hear some music?" He offered.

She chuckled, "I would love to."

He explained to her that all of the music was written by him. At this, Éponine became even more impressed by the masked man. Every second she thought that he couldn't be any more perfect, but he was constantly proving her wrong. But there was still one thought gnawing at the back of her mind.

"Erik?" Éponine called from her spot on the chair. He stopped playing and looked up from the organ, raising an eyebrow as if to prod her to go on. She continued, "I haven't yet seen the other side of your face. If you don't mind, could you take off the mask?"

"I'm afraid I do mind, love."

She blinked, irritated, "Yes, well, I can't be in a relationship with you if I don't know what you look like. That would be silly."

"You're implying that you would abandon me if my face wasn't what you would call handsome," Erik accuses. He turned his nose up and shook his head. He added, "You would leave just like Christine."

"Daaé?" She inquired in a soft voice.

"Éponine, please-"

She scoffed and stood up. Walking towards his seat in front of the organ, she spat, "No, you listen to me. Erik Destler, I am madly in love with you. There is absolutely nothing that could change that. Something as minor as what you look like certainly won't change how I feel about you."

Without a word, she placed her dainty fingers upon his white mask. After he gave a slight, hesitant nod, she pulled it off to reveal the deformed flesh that lied underneath. Anyone else would have ran off, at that moment. But to Éponine, he was the handsomest man that she had ever laid eyes on.

"All I see is a face," she assured him. "No more, yet no less."

She kissed the formerly masked side of his face, letting her soft lips touch the face he had always been ashamed of. When she looked back at him, his eyes were filled with tears. As one rolled down the deformed half, she wiped it away.

"I was afraid, you know," Erik admitted through the tears. "Afraid that you would hate the monster that you saw."

"I know you were afraid, but you had no reason to be. I love you, Erik."

"I love you, too."