I do not own POTO ):

Thanks for the reviews! This chapter is mainly Christine's POV.

"Merde!"

Slamming the door of her bedroom, Christine flung herself down on the bed in a heap of silken petticoats. She had had enough. If one more man came to see her with a bunch of flowers, she would take them and throw them in their face, or tell them to stick them where the sun didn't shine!

Just as she was about to bury her head in the pillow, in order to scream into it, what sounded like a stone thudded against her window.

Fantastic! She thought to herself. If that was who she thought it was, then she would blow a fuse. Wrenching open the French windows to her Romeo and Juliet style balcony, as she liked to call it, she gazed down through the darkness at the figure crouched in the bushes. Romeo he certainly was not.

"Christine!" He hissed. "Christine my love, I must see you."

"Percy, will you please leave me alone. I told you not to come here anymore." Percival Simmons, yet another of the men so determined to court her, stood trampling her favourite rosebush, brandishing a bouquet of daffodils.

"I cannot Christine. I must see you now! I cannot stop thinking about you. I love you!" Oh dear Lord, what was he on about? Never had she heard such nonsense. He had known her just over two weeks. He could not possibly be in love with her. He did not know her at all.

"Percy! How can you love me? You do not know me, and I do not know you. You are just like every other man in this dratted town, and I refuse to become a trophy to you or anyone else. Do not speak of love to me when you have no idea of that which you speak. Goodnight sir. I sincerely hope we do not meet again!" With that she slammed the doors shoot, and drew the curtains together aggressively. If someone had seen the exchange, then they would probably think she was being unnecessarily cruel. They did not know the whole story however. Percy was not the love sick young pup he appeared. In an overheard conversation she had heard him having with another man she had heard him talking about her in very crude terms. She had learned a lot about men from that conversation, and she had decided that she wanted nothing to do with them. There was only one she would ever want anyway, and her chances with him seemed as far away as the sun was from the moon.

Even though she had shut the doors, Percy still did not seem to have gotten the message however, and proceeded to serenade her in what she considered an absolute abuse to music. She could not even make out the tune, so out of it young Percy was. She wanted to throw something out of the window at him, but restrained. He would leave at some point. They all did eventually.

At first she had found it flattering that so many men seemed to find her so attractive, but she had quickly grown tired of it. She knew they didn't truly love her. All they cared about was her so called beauty and not a whit for anything else. Of course some were better than others, and she even found herself mildly attracted to one or two. This attraction was always fleeting however, and it was not long before they fell short of her ideal, and that ideal was incredibly hard to beat. All the charm and good looks in the world could not capture her heart, for that had been taken from her long ago. How ironic it was that the only man she loved, or would ever love, seemed to be the only man in St Simone who did not love her. There would never be anyone in the world she would love like Erik Gaston. For fifteen years she had known that he was the only man for her. Her masked music teacher was everything to her, but it appeared that he did not feel the same for her.

It was because of Erik that she had stayed in St Simone for so long. Unbeknownst to him or anyone else, she had had a few offers to join the chorus at the Opera Garnier in Paris over the years, and even though singing at the opera was one of her greatest wishes, the thought of leaving her beloved was too painful to bear. Deep down, she still hoped that Erik may come to love her, and they could be together. She knew she would never marry anyone else. As she grew older, the offers of marriage would dry up. With time her looks would fade, and with them any attraction she held from these men. If life was fair, then she could be with the man that she loved, but she had learned that life was not fair, and she would have to make the most of what she had.

The so called music lessons Erik gave her, had slowly progressed to simply an opportunity to make music together, and were not lessons at all anymore. Even she didn't think there was anything else she could possibly learn about singing. Erik never said anything about the lessons coming to an end, and she certainly wasn't going to breach the subject. If they ended then she didn't know when she would see him again. He never came into the village, and many people had never seen him. She knew that this was because of the mask he wore, and what was under it. To say that she could not care less what was under the mask was a lie. She was curious, of course she was, but she also knew that whatever was under there would not change how she felt about him one iota. He was simply Erik. The kindest, sweetest, most wonderful man in the world and to her he was gorgeous because of all these things.

Ever since she was 8 years old, when he first came to St Simone, she had been enthralled by him. He had always treated her as a person, and not a silly child to be humoured. When he had told her that she had the most beautiful voice he had ever heard, she had been so happy, and when he had offered to give her singing lessons, she had been thrilled. She was pretty sure the tall masked man had stolen her heart from that very moment

Over the years her love for him had grown into a different kind. The kind of a woman for a man, and she found herself wanting him as one wants a lover, although in her innocence, she didn't know what it was she wanted from him. It was just after she had turned 17 that she realized that if she didn't do something soon, then her chance with Erik would be over. Such an amazing man could not remain single forever. So she had given herself a complete makeover, and totally revamped her wardrobe. She threw out all her old childish clothes, and purchased all new dresses, which made the most of her blossoming figure, all in the hope that she would catch her beloved's eye, and he would begin to see her as a woman and not as the naïve child, he so obviously still believed her to be.

It all seemed to be pointless however, as Erik still seemed to take no interest in her whatsoever. She was close to despair, and nothing she did seemed to affect him. She made sure she always looked her best before each "lesson", wearing only her best gowns, and most flattering corsets with them. It was strange that all her efforts were for one man and one man alone, and yet he seemed to be the only man in St Simone who did not notice her, and it was driving her crazy.

She had finally reached the point in her life when she realized that her love would never be returned, and she should move on. She would travel to Paris, as she had always dreamed, and begin her career on the stage. Would he ever think of her? She wondered, sighing in despair. She hoped that he found someone who he could love, and who would love him in return. She knew how unaccepting and cruel the rest of the world could be to people like Erik. She hoped that the woman he eventually gave his heart too, would be able to give him all the love he deserved, and could learn to look past the mask to the man beneath. She wished him happiness, and that he would learn to smile more. He could seem so sad sometimes. His beautiful green eyes held a great amount of pain, which she knew she could never even begin to understand. She only hoped that the woman he loved would be able to change that look, and make him happy, even though it could never be her.

Her own future stretched before her, in the endless years of longing for Erik. She would try so hard to keep him from her mind, but she doubted that she could. Perhaps, over time, her memory would fade, and she would forget the man she loved so dearly. She laughed cynically as she prepared for bed, knowing that was as close to impossible as anything could be. Even though she was still young, and in many ways still acted like a child, she knew that she would never love anyone else.

………….

Christine was greeted the next morning by a loud knocking at her door. Groaning, she buried her head in the pillow, trying to block out the noise, but the knocking grew louder. Sighing in defeat, she hauled herself out of bed, and padded over to the door, where she was greeted by a very anxious looking Frances, her maid.

"Miss, you must come quick. It is your father. I don't know what to do." Christine was gripped with fear. The day she had feared for so long had finally come. Her father had been ill for the past 3 years, steadily getting worse and worse. No one seemed to be able to identify what was wrong, but ever since his arthritis had made it impossible for him to play his violin, he had seemed to give up on life. His only reason for living had been his violin, after his wife, and Christine's mother Irena had died. For the past few months things seemed to have become even worse. He barely ate anything, slept most of the day, and Christine was the only person in the house he spoke to at all. The only thing he ever did anymore was to bring Christine up the hill to Erik's for their daily music lesson.

Pulling on her robe, Christine hurried after Frances down the hall to her father's room. He was lying on the bed, as usual, breathing heavily, as if it was incredibly hard to do.

"I've called the doctor, and he should be here any minute, but he kept asking for you."

"Thank you, Frances. Could you go and wait for the doctor downstairs. I can stay with him now."

"Yes, Miss."

"Papa?" Christine sat down at the chair next to her father's bed. "Papa, can you hear me. It's Christine."

"Stina? Is that you?" Gustav murmured his pet name for her.

"Yes Papa. How are you feeling?" She knew it was a stupid question, but she could not think of anything else to say.

Gustav smiled weakly at her. "I've been better." The next second however, the doctor knocked on the door, and entered, followed by Frances. After checking him over, he took Christine over to one side, in order to speak to her.

"I'm afraid I don't know what to do any more, Mademoiselle. I can't find anything physically wrong with him. He just doesn't seem to want to live anymore." Christine began to sob, and Dr Roberts patted her gingerly, obviously uneasy in comforting crying women. "It is common in a man of his age. The only thing we can do now is to make him as comfortable as possible."

He left, after giving Christine some pills, with the instructions to give them to Gustav once every 4 hours. He told her that they should ease his breathing, and help him to sleep better.

Christine stayed with her father until he had fallen asleep. Crawling back into bed, she tried to go back to sleep, convinced that sleep would not come. She must have been more tired than she thought as the next thing she knew, the sun was streaming in through the window, and she could hear the sounds of movement down in the kitchen below. Stretching, she glanced over at the clock on her bed side table, and gasped in horror. She had completely missed her singing lesson with Erik. She had missed the only good thing going on in her life! Could life get any worse?

Dragging herself out of bed, she began to get ready. She wanted to go up and see Erik more than anything else, but as it was her father who usually brought her up the hill, she had no way of going. Bringing her to the music lessons was the only thing that Gustav did these days. If seemed that he wasn't even capable of doing that any more.

She wondered if Erik would think she had simply forgotten about the lesson, or that she had had a better offer, and decided not to come. She couldn't stand the thought of it. Even though she knew her feelings for him were far greater than his were for her, she still hadn't given up all hope of someday making him hers.

……………..

She had never been this late before, and Erik was getting more and more worried by the minute. Perhaps the time had come when she had finally become tired of their lessons, and found something else she would rather be doing, or someone else she would rather be with. It had been inevitable really. She wouldn't wish to keep on visiting a deformed monster for the rest of her life. Such a beautiful woman could do just about anything, be with just about anyone. No doubt she was out having fun with some young handsome man, and had not given him a second thought. Not that he could blame her, but his heart filled with pain all the same.

He began furiously playing his piano, taking out all of his pain on the music. Several hours later, he had finally concluded that she was not coming at all. This was the beginning of the end, and there was nothing he could do about it.

……………

Christine was restless. The doctor had told her that there was nothing more she could do for her father now. He was still sleeping, and showed no signs of waking up. She decided to pay a trip to the village, where she may bump into Jacque, Erik's manservant. If so, then she could pass on a message to Erik about where she had been earlier. She needed him so much, and wished she was with him right now. He always knew the right things to say, and she knew that his mere presence could make her feel a million times better. Gathering her coat and bag, she made her way into the village, in search of Jacques.

The tiny market town was buzzing, and she was waylaid several times by various people. Any questions about the health of her father were met with monosyllabic answers, giving nothing away. There was no way she was ready to talk about it. To do so would only confirm the severity of his condition.

She paid a visit to the fruit stall, the bakers, and a few other shops, not really paying any attention to what she bought, when she saw the familiar face of Jacques through the bustling crowd. Smiling for the first time all day, she attempted to make her way over to him, before he was swallowed up by the crowd. She scooted through the throngs of shoppers, every so often catching a glimpse of Jacque's thinning head, but a familiar voice in her ear waylaid her from reaching her goal.

"Well, well, if it isn't Little Lottie."

Ohhh i wonder who it could be?? Cookies for those who quess right.