An: As if it wasn't already, it's gonna get real spoilery for anyone who hasn't seen Love Never Dies. So…if you don't know all the twists and turns of the show, and you don't want to, you probably should stop reading until you see it. But thanks everyone for reading, and enjoy.

A week later…

Erik boarded the ship, carrying a small bag of his own and a large trunk of Meg's. Madame Giry had been so kind as to let him come with them, the least he could do was to help in any way he could. He had agreed to help them search for work when they arrived and write music for Meg to sing and dance to. She was surely no Christine, but he would show his gratitude nonetheless.

He searched the crowds almost hoping she'd somehow found him out and had come to tell him not to go. He'd of course wish better for her than himself, but if she'd insisted…

"Mister Young," Meg chirped, nudging him.

He snapped out of his fantasy and handed the man taking the boarding passes his own. The man nodded, and the trio walked on past.

"Still not used to the new name?" she giggled. Her sunny face and blonde curls looked so girlish. He knew she was the same age as Christine, but something about her always made him think of a child. Whereas, though he'd been seeing Christine since she was a child, she always seemed so grown up.

"No, I…guess I'm not…" he looked down, and just kept walking.

"It'll be better over there. It will. You'll have us." Meg grasped his hand in her own, and he could see a spark in her eyes that scared him. And in that moment he wished he had run straight off the boat.

In Christine's Home…

The tailor had come to fit the framework of the dress, and was poking and prodding Christine as she tightened. Christine winced, shrieking as she attempted to lace the last of the bodice. "Must this process be so painful?" she put her hands on her breasts, wincing.

"I measured you just last week. It's not too tight. You're just being sensitive." She gave it one last yank, bringing a tear to Christine's eye.

"You look beautiful," Raoul said, coming into the room.

Christine flipped around, facing him, covering herself. "Raoul! You're not supposed to see me!"

"Oh, but I wanted to see how everything was progressing."

"Beautifully Viscount." The seamstress responded. Christine did not answer. Her breasts hurt terribly in the dress that was squeezing them, and she felt lightheaded, perhaps from not eating yet that day.

"Well, you are beautiful, and you will be even more beautiful when it is completed." Christine tried to follow after Raoul, to talk to him privately about the seamstress, but she was caught by her corset strings and pulled backward.

"We are not done!" she called, pulling Christine back to her.

Suddenly the lightheadedness flooded over her once more, and Christine took a step backward, fluttering her eyes. She shook her head, trying to hold back the feeling, but before she could even realize it, she fainted.

Raoul rushed back into the room, screaming at the seamstress she must have put the dress on too tight. "Christine! Christine!" he crouched and pulled her into his arms, fanning her.

The seamstress ran out of the room and into the adjacent bathroom, pulling smelling salts out of the bathroom counter and running back in. She held them under Christine's nose, trying to wake her.

Christine jarred, and her eyes popped open. She looked around the room, confused for a moment. "Oh Christine!" Raoul kissed her forehead, squeezing her tight.

"Ow," she winced. She clutched her eyes tight again, then opened them once more to look at Raoul.

"I'm sorry…you're hot. I think you may have a fever…"

"I'm fine…" she assured, trying to stand but feeling dizzy once more.

"No, we need to get you out of this and into bed immediately!" Raoul fumbled with the strings of the corset, but Christine pushed him away.

"Raoul stop! It's bad enough you've seen me in my dress, but you can't see me unclothed! Go!"

He dejectedly went and stood outside of the door, glaring at the seamstress.

She began to tug at the strings herself, but the seamstress came and undid them for her. "This wedding is doomed…" she sighed, shaking her head, but it was doomed before this moment. It was doomed a week before.