I finally finished this chapter... it's been sitting on my laptop for a while now just waiting to be finished. I'm sorry I haven't updated in quite some time! I was planning to work on fanfiction back in August and then I lost my job and ended up getting a new one. By the time I realized what was happening, NaNoWriMo was upon me and so I ended up spending the last month working on a new novel. I kept wanting to write and well, here is what I ended up working on. I am planning to update my other fics for my readers who want to read those! I actually have a few that I'm going to be working on tomorrow at some point and may have up by the end of the day.

Without further adieu, here is the next chapter of A Phantom's Love!

Chapters are unbeta'd and any mistakes are my own. Reviews are loved and everything belongs to their respective owners. Flames will be used in my furnace to keep my house warm!


Words with a Ghost

"He's there… the Phantom of the Opera…!" – The Phantom of the Opera theme song

There was something weighing heavily on Christine's mind in the days that followed the incident with Raoul's clothes. It was the letter the Phantom dropped onto the stage. She couldn't get the words out of her mind. The so called Opera Ghost wanted to spend 5 minutes in conversation with her. She thought she should be frightened of that idea. It was the Opera Ghost, after all. And if he remained true to the story, then he was supposed to be a terrifying figure. Someone who would murder without a thought and hurt others for his own gain…. but she didn't get that vibe when her mind started to think about him.

In the days following the announcement of his presence, the random "accidents" were more like harmless pranks. Mostly aimed at Raoul, she knew, but they weren't anything life threatening. Little things like his script coming up missing only to appear when he went to show someone that it was missing. Or someone switching his coffee with decaf, causing him to be less awake and more prone to making mistakes. Little things that amused the rest of the cast, but annoyed Raoul.

Erik too was annoyed by the little pranks, but for an entirely different reason altogether. It seemed that with each new prank that was pulled on Raoul, he would accuse Erik for being the one responsible for them. Even though Erik was usually nowhere near the scene of the prank, the brown-haired actor seemed to have it out for him. No one could convince him otherwise, despite the evidence pointing to someone else being behind the acts. He refused to listen to reason and it was starting to get on everyone's nerves. There was only so much the cast was willing to take before of his complaining.

It was with that in mind that Christine made her way toward her bedroom, hoping for a few moments of rest. The thought that the Phantom of the Opera wanted to speak to her was a bit nerve-wracking as it was, and dealing with Raoul wasn't making it much easier. Darn it, why did she have to be the one to draw this so called Phantom's attention? Why not one of the other girls instead of her? She was nothing more than a small town girl from Vermont who was had the luck, or bad luck she was beginning to think, to be chosen for the part of Christine.

She just couldn't figure it out why someone would want to talk to her like the Opera Ghost was wanting to. Perhaps it was the fact that part of her didn't really believe he existed and was merely something the cast created, or even the managers of the theater themselves came up with to keep the cast in line. Who knew, it could've been anyone. Including Raoul. Including Erik… she paused at that thought right outside her door and frowned for a moment. Could it really be him, she wondered? Part of her argued that it would be the logical choice, what with him playing the Phantom already. Who else would know the character better than the man who was playing the character, her mind argued. Then the other part of her that believed in him would chime in with the fact that he was always around someone when the incidents happened or when a letter appeared. If it really was him, then surely they would've found out by then…?

Shaking her head, she pulled the key out of her purse and unlocked her bedroom door. She had limited time before she had to be onstage and she wanted to get a shower in before then. The door swung open without a sound and she stepped in, placing the key back into her purse as she closed the door behind her. She walked over to her bed and dropped her purse onto it as she toed her shoes off and turned to head into the bathroom. A white envelope with a red wax skull on it sat innocently on the desk in her room and she paused and stared at it. She didn't have to open it to know who it was from. There was only one being in the entire building who used wax on envelopes, let alone in the shape of a skull. Biting her lip, she approached the desk slowly, almost afraid the Opera Ghost would jump out and attack her.

She almost laughed at herself, thinking that that was such a silly thing, but… she couldn't ignore the fact that the letter was in her room on her desk. Her room, which had been locked the entire time she was gone. It really did seem like there was a Phantom after all… She stopped a few steps from her desk and looked around with a heavy frown. In the story, the Phantom was said to have accessed the room through a mirror. Turning around, she marched over to the floor length mirror in her room and stared at it for a moment. This would be just the right height for a full grown man to walk through, she decided. Nodding firmly to herself, she reached up and started feeling the edges of the mirror for a switch, anything that would trigger it to slide open.

For several moments she stood there running her hands over every surface of the mirror that she could reach. Nothing happened. There was no trigger switch, nothing on the mirror or behind the frame that gave away that it could move. For all it seemed, the mirror was really just a mirror. But she still felt uncertain… She simply studied the mirror for a few moments more before giving up and turning around. With a determined look in her eyes, she moved over to the desk and picked the letter up, breaking the wax seal and pulling out the note inside before she lost her nerve.

Dear Mademoiselle Larson,

I do hope you've given some thought to my request. I really am anxious to speak with you. I promise no harm will befall you while we are speaking. Merely pick a time and say it out loud. Do not worry, I will hear you. If it makes you feel better, we may talk from anywhere in the Opera House that you wish. Though, I would prefer it to be somewhere private so we're not overheard. I'm sure you can understand that desire.

Your Humble Servant,

O.G.

Christine read the letter over again once more just to be sure. She felt both bewildered and a little excited, not that she would say that out loud, of course. She set the letter down and debated for a moment, pacing back and forth as she tried to decide what to do. If she went through with it and actually talked to him… then what? What would that mean? Placing her hands on her hips, she shook her head with a frown. Wondering about it was not going to get her anywhere. If she wanted to find out the answers to her questions, she was going to have to ask the man directly. Or well, ghost directly in this case. And there was only one way of doing that. Turning instinctively toward the mirror, she called out, "Monsieur Opera Ghost? You said you could hear me… Umm… If it works for you, then tonight after rehearsal here in my room would probably be the soonest I could have a moment to speak... I hope that works for you…"

She waited for a few moments, feeling absolutely silly about talking out loud to an Opera Ghost that may or may not exist. So far he was nothing more than a spattering of letters and pranks. She truly felt foolish for talking out loud like that. She was about to turn around and head for the bathroom when a soft male voice whispered in her ear from out of nowhere, "Until tonight, Christine…"

She whipped her head around, looking for the source of the whisper, but there was no one but her in the room. She was completely alone and that creeped her out a little. She gathered up her clothes and headed into the bathroom, pausing just before the doorway as she said out loud, "A little warning would've been nice, you know. And no peaking in on me while I'm in the bathroom!"

The last thing she heard before closing the bathroom door behind her was a soft chuckle float through the room as if on a breeze.

The rest of the day went by rather quickly and without much excitement. Perhaps it was because she agreed to speak with him later on that evening that nothing happened, or it was because Raoul was for once putting effort into his role, she couldn't be sure. It was nice, though, to have a rehearsal without much of a problem. Though there was still some animosity between Erik and Raoul, it wasn't quite as much as normal. It worked out good for the scene, though, considering they were practicing the scene where the two dueled in the graveyard. Christine watched the two men fight with fake swords and she couldn't help but get this strange feeling that she had seen that before somewhere… She wanted to chuck it up to seeing the movie a dozen times, or going to the actual play more than she could count, but for some reason, she didn't think that was it. It… it was almost as if she… no, it couldn't be. It was nothing more than a trick of the light and staying up too late practicing, that's all. Shaking her head, she stepped forward and interrupted the fight when it was time for her to do so. She shoved the feeling in the back of her mind and forgot about it for the rest of the day.

Monsieur Reyer had them practice the scene several times before he felt satisfied enough with their progress to move onto another scene. Erik and Christine moved off to the side of the stage to watch, grateful of the break as they both nursed a bottle of water. Christine was silent for a moment before asking, "Hey, can I ask you a question?"

"You just did, but what's up?" he asked as he continued to watch the backstage hands change what props they had completed for the next scene that Reyer wanted to practice.

"What do you think of the Phantom that's been tormenting Raoul?" she asked as she turned and looked at him. Over the past few days, they became quite close friends and she valued his opinion in such matters.

Erik didn't respond for several moments, unsure of how to respond to that question. What did he think of the Phantom ? Given the fact that the specter had taken to tormenting Raoul, he was actually rather amused in most cases. Aside from the annoying prat accusing him of the pranks, it was actually rather amusing to him. After all, anyone who could make Raoul scream in anger was okay in his book. As long as the Phantom didn't do anything to truly hurt anyone… "He has my approval for what he does."

"So you think he actually exists," she said thoughtfully in response to that. She didn't need him to tell her that he found the incidents amusing, his expression each time something new happened was enough for her.

"You don't?" he inquired in return as he finally turned his head and looked down at her. The look on his face was one of gentle curiosity as he waited for her response.

"I…" she started to say. She was about to deny it, but something in her made her stop and consider whether or not she truly believed he existed or not. The experience she had earlier in her bedroom with the ghostly voice made her wonder if her thoughts of him not really existing was true or not. Pursing her lips, she said, "I don't really know what I believe."

"There's obviously someone who's doing it," he said as he took another sip of his water and watched the practice play out. Most of the cast were still using their scripts, so it was still a bit slow going.

"Raoul seems insistent that it's you that's doing it," she remarked quietly as she turned her head and looked out over the stage as well. Raoul stood on the other side of the stage talking with Carlotta. She couldn't tell what it was that they were talking about exactly, but Carlotta had an annoyed look on her face.

"Do you think I am?"

It was only the seriousness of his tone that made Christine turn and look back up at him. He was looking at her, the stark whiteness of his mask making him seem a bit ominous at that moment and for a split second she got an overwhelming feeling of déjà vu. She almost could've sworn that he… mentally shaking her head, she smiled up at him as she said, "Do I think you're capable of pulling pranks on Raoul? Certainly. Do I think you're the Phantom? Technically you do play him, but… are you the Phantom, Erik?"

"Perhaps I am," he said as a teasing smile crossed his face and he set the water bottle down on the table behind them. Giving her a playful wink, he strode out onto the stage as he said, "And perhaps I'm not."

Christine shook her head and laughed softly as she watched him practice his part. Was he the Phantom of the Opera? In character, yes, he was. But for real…? She tried to remember what the voice sounded like from her bedroom, but she couldn't exactly say if they were the same or not. She didn't think he was capable of doing something so brazen as that, but then again, she was finding that the man behind the mask was almost, if not more talented than the man he was portraying.

It may very well have been her imagination, but she thought she caught him smirking at her out of the corner of her eye during the practice at one point. When she turned her head to look at him, he was gone. Seemingly disappeared into thin air. The practice ended shortly after that and she left the stage quickly, eager to make it back to her room and change before that so called Opera Ghost showed up to speak with her. She hoped he would be a man of honor and not watch her change. A pair of amused green eyes watched her all but flee from the stage before disappearing into the shadows of the theater.

Christine locked herself in her bathroom and changed, only coming out when she was in a pair of comfy jeans and a t-shirt. She hung her costume, what was finished of it anyway, on the coat hangers that the costume department supplied for her and sat nervously at the small desk in her room as she fiddled with her cell phone. A soft lyrical whisper echoed in her ear, "Christine…"

She immediately straightened up and looked around the room. Of course, there was no one in the room but her, despite the echoing voice that flowed through the room speaking her name. Her eyes narrowed and she stood up, placing her hands on her hips as she said, "You know, it's kind of rude to not show yourself to the person you're speaking to."

The voice laughed softly, the sound making her smile. The Phantom's voice was a rather pleasant and charming, she thought. There was amusement in his voice as he said, "Perhaps… but you are not ready to see me, yet. Perhaps I will show you who I am soon, but not just yet."

Christine hmphed softly to herself and sat back down at the desk as she said, "It's still a little unsettling talking to someone I can't see."

"Please humor me for now and let us simply enjoy this moment. I have longed to speak with you like this since I first laid eyes upon your beauty. I thank you for letting us meet tonight," the Phantom said. His voice almost had an adoring tone in it and he almost sounded as if he were enamored with her.

Christine could not help the blush that spread up her cheeks at the sound of his voice. She fidgeted nervously as she said, "Thank you for the compliment, although I'm not sure about what it is that you're seeing that's beautiful in me… You're welcome, by the way. I admit my curiosity was what mainly drove me to agree to this strange conversation."

"Curiosity can lead to a lot of wonderful surprises," he said simply and nothing more. His voice was like a whisper soft wind blowing through the room and she fought not to shiver at the way his voice made her feel.

"Yes, but it also killed the cat. Tell me, Monsieur Phantom," she asked curiously as she tilted her head. Her eyes were still flittering around the room, trying to pin point the source of his voice, but she couldn't seem to find it as she spoke, "Are you trying to be a harmless Phantom, or will you be an exact copy of the Phantom in the story?"

"Is it simply a story?" he mused out loud. She couldn't quite tell the tone in his voice then. It wasn't curious, but it wasn't quite knowing either. He almost seemed as if he were trying to make her doubt whether it was a story or not.

She frowned in confusion and stood up as she started to pace back and forth. Her hands clasped themselves together as she said loudly, "How could it be anything but a story? Sir Webber was the one who created the music for it and Monsieur Leroux was the man who wrote the story on a whim. It's just that. A story and nothing more."

"As you say, my dear," he said in a pacifying tone. He was too interested in watching her to debate semantics at the moment. Though that would be a conversation that they would later revisit, he knew. So it mattered not if they talked about it now.

"I am not your dear," she replied automatically without much pause to consider what she was saying. She flopped back down into her chair as she spoke, "Look, why are you here? I doubt it was to debate whether or not a story is true or fake."

"You would be quite correct," he said, his voice taking on a much more serious tone. She could almost picture him straightening up. Of course she believed he was a man instead of an actual ghost. If he was following the story, then he would be an actual human and not some spectral being from beyond the grave. She pulled her mind from her thoughts as he began to speak once more, "I have a proposition for you, Mademoiselle."

"What kind of proposition…?" she asked hesitantly. One could hardly blame her. She was speaking to someone who claimed to be the Opera Ghost and refused to show her his face. Of course she was going to be more than a bit hesitant about taking some kind of proposition that he had without knowing exactly what it was.

"I wish to help you," he replied. He tried to keep his voice light and professional, but it was quite hard with the prospect of spending more time with her. Of course he watched her sing on stage, but that would hardly count as spending time with her. She hardly knew he was there unless he did something to catch everyone's attentions. He attempted to sound even more nonchalant as he said, "I know you've been having troubles reaching certain parts when it comes to singing. I could help you reach those heights if you would let me."

"And what would be in it for you?" she asked as she crossed her arms. She did not trust this man pretending to be a ghost. There was just something very… fishy about this whole thing. Why would he want to help her? She was just a simple girl from Vermont trying to make it big in the opera world. Just cause she was cast as Christine did not mean she was anything special to consider training. She huffed a little as she gazed at a bouquet of roses on the opposite side of the room, "You're not going to drag me off like the Phantom does with Christine in the story, are you?"

"Of course not, silly child. Where would the good be in that?" he asked in amusement. He had no intentions of taking her off with him. There would be no use for it and he wouldn't even need to take her… not that he was going to tell her that. She could hear the smile in his voice as he said, "The only thing I want from you in return is to perform like the Prima Donna you have been cast as. I want this play to be a complete success."

"That's it?" she asked incredulously. It seemed impossible that all he would want was for her to sing… then again, that's all the Phantom wanted of Christine in the beginning of the story, so perhaps it wasn't so farfetched. She looked around as she said, "If I agree to this, you aren't allowed to even think about attempting to kidnap me, understood?"

"Agreed," he said rather quickly in response. She had no way to gauge his response given that she couldn't see his face, but he almost seemed… eager to help her. If he was the music connoisseur that he claimed to be, then perhaps he would be able to help her reach bigger heights… She pursed her lips a little when he asked, "Do we have a bargain then, my dear?"

"Yes, and I'm not your dear." She said once again. She was starting to wonder if he was going to call her that simply to see her annoyed by it. It seemed that this Opera Ghost had quite a humorous side to him.

He chuckled softly, the sound reverberating throughout the room. She couldn't help but smile at the sound of it, finding it to sound quite enjoyable as he said, "How feisty! I like that. Keep that attitude up and practicing will be most enjoyable for me. I will send you a note when I wish to start practicing with you. Expect it to be soon. I must go for now seeing as you are about to have company. Au Revoir, my dear."

She growled at being called my dear once again, but didn't respond as a knock sounded at her door. She called out that it was open and went to stand when she it finally hit her what she just agreed to. Erik opened the door and stepped inside, a frown on his face when he saw the shocked look on her own. He was about to ask her what was wrong when she interrupted him.

"I just agreed to take lessons from the opera ghost… oh boy."


I actually am excited with where this story is going to go. I can't wait to reveal who the Opera Ghost really is!

Thanks for reading!

Jaa!