Hi everyone! This is just going to be a short chapter, but the next will be longer. I didn't know if I should skip this one and just go straight to the next, but I'm going to try to get it up ASAP.

Thank you to everyone who reviewed! There was one review in particular I would like to answer, but as it was delivered anonymously, I'm going to have to do it here.

This is adressing Milk. I can only assume that your review was meant to hurt my feelings, and I don't know why anyone would go out of their way to be so hurtful. I am not a writer, I am a singer. And seeing as this is FanFiction, most writers here are not professionals. I do not have access to any spell checking tools, so I write without them. I'm sorry for my mistakes which seemed to make you so angry, but everyone makes mistakes, and people must learn to overlook them.
Also, I will change the category when this story begins to lean more toward Love Never Dies. When I think of a Love Never Dies story, I expect them to be set completely in Coney Island, ten years from the original story. This isn't happening right now in my story, and I see it as being closer to the Phantom of the Opera. I have read stories in the past that have been completely set in Coney Island, and lead on from the events in that story, and they have been categorised in the Phantom of the Opera, as well, so I don't see why you felt the urge to single me out and make me feel like an idiot.

Sorry! Now back to smiles and the next chapter.

EPOV

I stirred an hour before dawn, feeling more refreshed than I had in a long while. It took a moment for the events of the night previous to return to me, but when they did I jerked in disbelief, pushing myself up onto my arm to stare through the darkness. It had to have been a dream. Surely something so wonderful, something I'd longed after so long, could be nothing but a hopeless nightmare? But no, she was there. My eyes could just make out her figure beside me, and I sighed.

I wanted nothing more than to cast light on her features, drink them in before she could wake. I ran my fingers gently through the chocolate curls on my pillow and smiled slightly, a smile that was lost in the dark. I imagined what I would say to her when I woke. What would she say to me? The possibilities were endless, and I let my mind run away with them as I listened to her quiet breathing, so much like music.

If I were any gentleman, I would do something special for her...something to tell her how much she meant to me. Something simple, like making her breakfast, or buying her flowers...but both ideas were impossible. I had no food and no working kitchen, and as wanted as I was in these streets, I doubted anyone selling flowers on a street corner would hesitate in screaming for authorities.

My hand left her with the troubled thoughts that now clouded my mind and I sighed hopelessly. I couldn't do right by her...I would never be the kind of person she needed. I had no future, with so many people after me, a pathetic way of life, and a face that would never allow me to live in any community peacefully, like a respectful citizen deserved. That was all I ever wanted, just so I could give it to my Christine. I hated to disappoint her, but I couldn't stand to be the reason for her unhappiness. Not again...

For a moment I was taken over by jealousy for that boy...he could give her everything she wished. Why couldn't I have been given the chance to have a life remotely similar to his? He seemed to have it all...a name in the world, money...looks. I couldn't compete with that. I couldn't even walk down the street I lived in. I refused to bring Christine down with me. I could only imagine the way people would look and wonder about her if she stayed with me. Christine Daaé. The soprano in the midst of the mysterious Phantom of the Opera incident. That was enough to have her gain stares. She didn't need to add to it that she'd left that ridiculous Vicomte. Society wouldn't understand. He was so perfect in their eyes...

Was he still perfect in her eyes? A feeling much like ice slipped uncomfortably into my stomach at this thought. Could she possibly still love him? Surely not...not after last night.

I fell back into my old pessimistic ways, suddenly not able to believe what I wanted. I only believed what I'd been told the rest of my life. What I'd seen. She couldn't love me. No one ever would. I was unworthy, undeserving, doomed to live a life alone, dreaming and longing after what I knew I could never have for myself.

Would she wake thinking last night had been a mistake? Was it just one last night away from the world she was about to step into to reassure herself that she'd made the right decision in leaving me with the boy? Was she going to run back to him, begging him for forgiveness and never spare me another thought?

It had been so dark last night. I knew she would not have been able to see me at all. Had she forgotten just how hideous I actually was? It was possible. I hadn't seen her for what had been more than three extremely painful weeks, and she'd probably tried to block those thoughts from being fresh and present. What would she do when the sun rose? Roll toward me, not knowing where she was and scream at the sight of me? Would she feel the need to torture herself for being unfaithful to her fiance? Would she be horrified? Beg me to let her be free, to let her forget me and live her life as the Vicomtess of Chagny?

These were the only conclusions I could come to. Why would she want to stay with me? I couldn't give her anything, and I wasn't about to steal her away from the world so selfishly once more. She could be happy with him. She would live the rest of her life with the expensive things she deserved...a family she loved.

I had been a fool when I'd dreamed of a world where Christine and I could be together and wear smiles. Without knowing it, I'd imagined the two of us living as any other couple would; being accepted into a comfortable society around us and living for music, for each other.

That was just plain stupidity on my behalf. That would never be possible. I would never find a place where I was able to walk among men without being screamed at, tortured by words and violence, shunned from the streets...

I couldn't give anything to my beautiful Christine, and at that moment, I doubted she would want anything. Why take whatever I had to give her when she could recieve all that and more from someone who had been born perfect, who had lived in a perfect world, such as her fiance?

I took a long, shaky breath and felt my eyes sting with tears as I thought all of this through. I knew I would never forgive myself for what I did next, but I did it selfishly, in order to protect myself. I knew I wouldn't be able to continue living if Christine woke and claimed everything that had happened between us to be an awful mistake. If I woke to see doubt, sadness or horor in her eyes I knew my heart would break quicker than I would be able to run and save myself.

I slid swiftly out of the bed, gathered my clothes silently in the dark, and dressed quickly, my eyes constantly on the faint outline of the love of my life as she dreamed on. I picked up my mask from where it lay on the floor and secured it over my hideous face before retrieving the few other belongings I had and readying myself for my departure. I gave my love one last, long look, and decided I couldn't leave her with nothing. I picked up a sheet of music I had written just the day before and turned it over to the blank side, my fingers grasping a discarded pen from the small desk.

I wrote the short note slowly, wanting to stall myself for as long as I could. I was secretly wishing that she would wake, assure me that everything would be okay; that we would get through all of this and be happy together, but I knew that would never happen. There was a small part of me that wanted to leave, get out while I still could, leave her before she could break my heart worse than she ever had before.

I set the paper at the foot of the small bed and gazed at her longingly as I made my way closer, kneeling down beside her face. I brushed a lock of curls from in front of her closed eyes and pressed my lips to her forehead gently, pulling away as I felt a tear slip from my left eye and fall down my cheek.

"I'll never stop loving you, Angel." I told her through a whisper. "You'll be in my thoughts every day until I die. I just hope I don't haunt you in the same way."

And then I stood, gathered my belongings in my arms and left the run-down house, making my way to the Giry household before the sun could rise and the streets could become crowded. There was one being left in my entire life that I could depend on, and I hoped more than anything that she would listen to me in such a desperate time of my need.

I'll try to get the next chapter up in the next few days. It just depends on when I can steal my sister's laptop and type like crazy. :)

Chlowie, xo