Chapter 3

Meetings

Christine Daae did not know how to explain even to herself what made her visit her old dressing room that night. Some strange force drew her there and she felt slightly scared but unable to resist. Come to think of it, Christine Daae had long ago made a habit of feeling this way. She had slipped from her husband's watchful, concerned gaze and walked through the semi-lit corridors. When she reached the familiar door, she found it unlocked. The room was not completely dark because moonlight was filtering through the window. She made two steps inside and stopped short, afraid to go any further. The room was full of flowers as it had been on the night when she had first sung as prima… and she had first met the Phantom in person. She stared at her own pale reflection in the mirror.

And then a dark figure stepped out of the shadows.

"Hello, Christine. I was hoping you would come."

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"Christine! Christine, what's wrong?" Meg hurried after her friend trough the corridors of the opera house, full of celebrating people. The money they had gotten from the benefit had exceeded expectations and the cast were in especially good spirits.

Christine didn't answer, just searched the hall for her husband and when she spotted him, she ran straight into his arms. Meg stopped next to them, still wanting to find out the reason for her friend's distress.

"I've been looking for you." Christine said a little out of breath. "I'm tired, Raoul, let's go home."

The forced smile didn't fool the Viscount.

"Christine, what's happened?" he asked frowning.

When she didn't answer, he put two and two together and got sixteen.

"It's him, isn't it? He's back! Did he hurt you? I'll kill him!"

He started to draw his sword but his wife caught his hand looking around and smiling apologetically at the people who happened to look in their direction.

"No, Raoul, please, there's no need. You're overreacting! He only wanted to see me, that's all. Nothing happened. He just told me I had sung beautifully and asked if I was happy."

Meg was also looking frantically around, anxious that no one should hear this conversation.

"Oh, please, let him be and tell no one he's here." She whispered urgently. "There haven't been any accidents, he's on good terms with Mr. Chevalier and he knows it would be foolish to make his presence known to the cast. The police would come to look for him if he did. Please Messer, this is not your problem."

"Raoul, please, let's just go." Christine joined in.

Finally, Raoul nodded curtly, letting go of his sword. With a quick goodbye to Meg, he took his wife's hand and led her to the carriage. Meg went out to see them off. After they had gone, something made her look up. Far above, on the roof of the opera she thought she saw the edge of a black cape disappear behind a statue and maybe the glint of a white mask.

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Meg went back inside and passed through the crowd in the main hall without noticing it, lost in thought.

Since she had discovered the Phantom's return, she hadn't dared go down to his lair but tonight she felt a strong urge to do just that. She didn't believe he would want to harm her. After all, her mother had saved him and she herself had done him no wrong. She thought the worst he could do was refuse to speak to her and send her back.

So, just as she had done after Christine's debut, she slipped quietly into her friend's old dressing room.

Quite predictably, the Phantom had set the stage for the meeting with his beloved. Bouquets of flowers covered every surface and in the moonlight coming from the windows, she saw a single red rose, tied with a black ribbon, fallen in front of the mirror. As she picked it up, she felt for the man. All this effort and the reception he had received from Christine was clearly not the warmest. It was his own fault, of course, but still… She left the rose on the vanity. Roses were beautiful but too dramatic for her. She preferred wild flowers. They were happier, freer, not spoilt by too much meaning.

Taking a breath, Meg ventured into the passage behind the mirror.

She had become familiar with it by now. But something was different tonight. She imagined she could feel the presence of the Opera Ghost at the other end.

She knew she shouldn't think of him as a ghost. His name was Erik and he was a man like any other. Remarkably talented and very likely remarkably crazy but a man nonetheless.

Lucky for her, the gondolla was there. He had obviously used another route to go back after he had seen Christine. Maybe he had really climbed to the roof and then used another passage to go back to the cellars.

She started making her way across the lake. Soon she could hear music - a slow melancholy tune floating above the water.

Well, what else could she expect under the circumstances? Of course he would be sitting at his organ, being depressed. Not that she could blame him.

It was a beautiful melody but it managed to depress her too, as she listened to it. And when she started making out the lyrics, she decided she hated it.

Laugh in your loneliness,

Child of the wilderness…

You have always known

Your heart was on its own…

What normal person would play or sing this when he was already feeling bad? All right, the Phantom didn't qualify as a normal person but still. Maybe he was attempting to drive himself to suicide.

Soon she could see him, sitting with his back to her, just finishing the song on his organ. He was dressed in his usual black, mask and wig in place. He was an entrancing sight, though rather theatrical.

If he noticed her presence he made no sign to show it and she didn't want to interrupt him. She quietly got off the boat and just stood there not quite sure what to do, now that she was here with him. He finally finished playing and turned around. He stared at her for a long time before standing up and taking a step towards her.

Normally Erik would have gotten angry at any trespasser daring to enter his domain. (Not that there were many.) But this was Meg Giry after all, Mme Giry's daughter. He couldn't grab a lasso and strangle her, nor did he have any desire to. He remembered how she had silently watched him go after the Don Juan fiasco. And perhaps it was no mere miracle that his home hadn't been completely destroyed by the mob.

He realized he was making her uncomfortable by just silently looking at her so he spoke gently.

"It is you, I presume, to whom I owe the prefect order this place is in?"

She cast a quick glance around and nodded.

"You seem to have a lot of your mother in you… helping a criminal." He hadn't meant to be sarcastic but the words came out without permission from his brain. "Has she told you the story of so many years ago? Is that why you're here? To show some pity to a monster."

"My mother says she did see a monster that night." Meg replied more calmly than she felt. "But it wasn't you. And I don't pity you."

"Then why are you here?"

She hesitated, then shrugged.

"We have lived in the same opera house for so many years, don't you think it strange that we hardly know each other?"

He seemed taken aback for a second, then, unexpectedly, he chuckled.

She was surprised at how normal it sounded.

Then she felt stupid for being surprised. Had she expected it to echo or what?

Erik entertained the thought of simply sending her away but he had to admit he was happy for the distraction. Mme Giry was too afraid to come down here and Christine's panicked reaction to him earlier had felt like a slap. Did she really think he would hurt her? After the pain he had gone true to let her go?

And Meg had come to see him willingly.

He gestured towards a chair.

"Care to sit?"

She hesitantly obliged.

"And how may I entertain my guest?"

"Well… you could always play for me. I would like that."

Meg was smart enough to realize neither of them could come up with something better on a first meeting.

"Very well then." he agreed, realizing the same thing.

He sat back at the harmonium took a sheet of music and began to play.

Melody after melody came alive under his fingers. Sometimes if it was an aria he sang it.

He was very good, there was no denying that but Meg still found the idea of being hypnotized by his voice ridiculous. She blamed Christine's overactive imagination. Meg herself could be more easily hypnotized by the ticking of the clock in her room.

Or maybe he just wasn't singing for her the way he had sung for Christine. She had no way to compare.

He pulled random music sheets from the top of the organ. Some of the pieces were unfamiliar to her and Meg guessed that they were his work.

You can't be a cold unfeeling monster and write music like that, she thought. But, apparently, being warm and having feelings didn't stop you from killing people.

She had tried to rationalize his behavior many times. The hard part was there was nothing rational about it.

Maybe some of the people he had killed deserved it in some way but not all. What about poor Pinagi? The Phantom had really gone mad at that point, too hurt by Christine's refusal to care about anything much.

History showed men had done even worse things for love.

Meg hated it when love was used as an excuse despite the fact that people did it all the time. Childhood trauma was a far better explanation and she was willing to accept it. It was a very plausible theory that if they lived in a slightly better world Erik could have been a much nicer person…

She caught herself before she could paint in her mind the picture of a really nice man who just needed better skin care products and a little sunshine to improve his mood. It wasn't that simple and she knew it. On top of that she realized that half of the reason she was so interested in him was because she had been jealous of Christine. It was friendly jealousy but it was something all women all over the world experienced towards one another.

She was pulled from her thoughts when he made an unusually long pause, looking at the sheet of music he had pulled from the pile. His movements were somehow forced when he finally placed it in front of himself and started playing.

It was the aria from Hannibal, the one that had made Christine a star overnight. She could have told him it probably wasn't a good idea to play it but he obviously liked depressing himself.

Think of me, think of me fondly when we've said goodbye.

Remember me once in a while; please promise me you'll try.

When you find that once again you long to take your heart back and be free

If you ever find a moment, spare a thought for me…

He stopped and Meg used the opportunity to stand up quickly. She didn't particularly want to witness a mysterious masked man's emotional breakdown. He would probably really kill her after he had quit crying for Christine…

Or do something else. Killing was the first crime that came to mind for most man faced with a beautiful girl. But, once again, he was not your average man so she decided not to take her chances.

"I should go. It's late. I think everyone's asleep but if someone finds out I'm gone…"

He nodded and also stood up.

"I'll take you back."

The trip back was silent but when they were once again on the other side of the mirror, wanting them to part on friendly terms, she turned to him with a smile.

"Thank you."

She imagined his expression softened in the darkness.

"So, you liked my music?"

"Oh, it was all very beautiful. But it was a little too… serious. Have you never written anything happy? Anything you can whistle to cheer you up?"

Again, the childishness of her question made him laugh. He had a feeling she was deliberately being silly. Other than her seemingly naïve questions, she was anything but a child… especially in physique but that was not a very appropriate thought.

"I suppose I only write music to depress myself." He said, his tone bordering joking. "But if you want to visit me again sometimes and be depressed with me… you're welcome."

She smiled up at him, glad that the heavy atmosphere had lifted.

"Thank you, I will." She said and she hurried out of the room, sparing one final glance at him.