The door to my bed opened up and the light was flicked on. I had stayed up all night the previous night. Erik had gone to bed at about two. That was twelve hours ago, I had crashed at six o'clock. It was one now.

"Come on, Christine, get up." Erik told me, separating the curtains that separated the me from the overhead light. I growled and covered my eyes with a pillow. Erik took my pillow.

"Come now, I can function on less than an six hours of sleep. I'm taking you to town." He told me, his masked face appearing in my eyesight. I glared at him.

"Fine." I groaned, Erik smiled and left the room. I put the pillow back over my eyes and turned over.

"After ten more minutes." I muttered. I heard Erik shuffling around the living room through my open bedroom door.

"HEY!" A couch pillow hit my stomach harmlessly and I sat up, looking into the living room. Erik stood with his arms spread out in a question manner.

"Christine, there is no way that you don't want to get out after being cooped up in here for a week." He said disbelieving. I shrugged laying back down.

"Public really isn't my thing." I told him, staring up at the canopy. Erik laughed.

"Please, I'm a disfigured ex-hermit. I go out at least once a week, please Christine, don't make me go out by myself again." He begged. I turned over and looked at him from the bed, he was sitting down on his piano bench, his elbow resting on his knee and his unmasked cheek propped on the ball of his hand. His metallic blue eyes watching me curiously. My breathing stopped for a second. What did he look like, under that mask? I wonder…

I unwillingly threw the blankets off my body and swung my legs over the side of my bed. I looked at him. A look he returned through his eyelashes, Erik stood up and turned away. I shrugged and rubbed my eyes. Then ran my hands through my hair. Then all of a sudden lost the will to get up and fell back in bed. Erik scoffed and stood.

"Are you really that tired or are you just lazy?" He asked. I smiled at him.

"I'd say a mix of both." I told him. Erik smiled and walked to my room, leaning against the doorway, silhouetted.

"Thirty more minutes." He told me as he tapped his wrist watch, I smiled and flipped over, pulling the blankets over my head and went back to sleep.

~That Very Evening~

We walked through the small park of the town nearest us. I was holding a few slices of stale bread from the bakery down the road for the ducks. We had eaten supper there. I had felt happy, I still was, weightless, like I was actually just a kid. Erik was slowly changing my life. Making me happier, careless. Free. I had started to sing again. I was happy.

Coming to the pond I reached in the bag and broke a piece of break off and crumbled it in my fist. I came up to the edge and sprinkled the crumbs on the water's surface and retreated to Erik, who was sitting on the grassy knoll in front of the pond while the ducks swam over to eat the crumbs.

"I don't think coming over here was a good idea." Erik told me. I looked at him.

"Why not?" I asked him. Erik nodded towards the eating ducks.

"Where do you think they'll come after they get done with that round?" Erik asked me. My eyes widened.

"Where the source is. And if you approach them now, they'll take it as a threat. Why don't we just leave before they come after us? Crumble the bread up and leave it here." Erik told me standing. I nodded and left the bread for the ducks. Erik led the way down to the path. He walked tall and proud, with his head held up high. I smiled. He was so proud. I was mesmerized by him.

"How did you find that old opera house?" I asked him. He gave me an aged look. I shifted my gaze to the ground.

"I just travelled around France for a while, looking for a refuge and I found that place. I restored it and ran it until Opera lost its luster and the old place closed down. I built a cabin behind it and stayed there, I was alone, accept the old man down the street until you showed up. You came roaring by James' home towards the opera house and he hobbled his way down to the cabin and told me he thought you were going to stop at the opera house. He was right. If I had not shown up when I did, do you think you would still be alive today?" He asked. I looked back at him, then wrapping my jacket around me tighter, sighing.

"Probably not. I was about to go 'ram my Mustang into a tree' right as you spoke to me." I told him, not looking at Erik. He was quiet. I looked around, seeing a father picking his daughter up and walking out of the park. It made my heart ache some, I missed my own father. I gave a bit of a huff, frowning.

Erik tapped my shoulder and turned around; we were heading out of the park. I followed him and we found the car in the parking lot. We got in. I put on my seat belt and Erik looked at me before he started the car. I returned his look and frowned.

"What?" I asked him, he gave me a type of loving look and then started the car, turning to watch where he was going while he back out of the parking place.

"Now was that so bad? Was it worth all the trouble you gave me this morning?" Erik asked me I laughed, smiling.

"Maybe." I told him, Erik laughed some himself. He turned around when he got out into the road. I looked at the radio, Erik never turned on the radio when he drove. I looked at him, he focused on the road.

"Why don't you ever listen to the radio?" I asked him. Erik smiled.

"I figured you would ask that eventually. I don't find the music of today, pleasing, its poorly written and trashy." He told me, glancing at me quickly.

"Then why not listen to the classical music channels?" I asked him. He shook his head.

"The stations are staticky and to be honest, it seems to me that they all sound the same and run together, in other words, it gets boring." Erik told me, I nodded.

"Okay." I said. Erik chuckled again.

"You think I'm crazy." He said. I smiled.

"I've always thought you were crazy." I told him in reply. He shook his head.

"Be careful with what you say. I am the one that takes care of you." He told me, I laughed shaking my head.

"Even if you are the Phantom of the Opera, excuse me, were, I think you've lost your edge. If you were the Phantom of the Opera, from the rumors I've heard, anyone that floated onto your 'turf' you killed. I did that same thing. If you were still the 'Phantom' character I would be dead." I told him. He frowned.

"I hate it that you have a point." He said quietly, signaling his turn. I smiled.

"I'm just playing with you, Erik." He looked at me, smiling, shaking his head.

"Yeah, I know."