We don't own any of the characters from The Phantom of the Opera, although we do rather enjoy borrowing them from time to time, especially Erik!

Forum Alert – I have started a forum entitled: Secrets Left Untold, Q & A. If you would like to join our next round robin that Terpsichore314 is now writing the first chapter as we speak, please post your name out on the forum. We will be taking the first eight authors. Also I think there was a question if we were only going to have 10 chapters on this story; I can't answer that as we will just have to see where we are led. It was my intention that each author would get to write at least two chapters, but who knows?

Chapter one - ToryD

Chapter two - Terpsichore314

Chapter three - KatieKay90

Chapter four - MJ Mod

Chapter five - LostBluePhantom

Chapter six – Moonshine's Guide

Chapter seven - Phantasmarose

Chapter eight - Splendorous Night Unfurled

Chapter nine - Hatred Behind a Mask

Chapter ten – ToryD (we start over again)

A/N: I would like to Dedicate this Chapter to Lost Nobody, who convinced me to join fan fiction, and Lady Karai, who puts up with my really weird reviews and generally cheers me up. So, without further ado... I present to you... Chapter 6 of our melodrama.

Author Moonshine's Guide

Chapter 6

Inspector Meguire stared at the girl who lay eagle-spread on the couch across from him. "So Miss Vieder..." he began. "It's Weidner," the girl snapped. She began coaxing her unruly red hair back into a manageable pony tail. "What do you want?" she snapped. "Well Miss Weidner, I'm investigating Miss Christine Daae?" he said cautiously. The girl instantly perked up, "Why are you... 'investigating' Christine? What has she done to you? Nothing! She's the sweetest soul in the world! How dare you?" The girl's face was flushed. She had leapt to her feet during her rant and was now standing at attention with her hands clenched. "Now Miss Weidner, I assure you I mean Miss Daae no harm. I'm just collecting some information. You were Miss Daae's dorm mate, correct?" The girl nodded sulkily and sat back down, smoothing her floor-length black skirt as she did. "Alright Miss Weidner, what do you know about her son Ben?" The girl thought for
a few minutes before deciding to answer. "Sweet kid. If I have a baby, I hope mine is as nice as Ben is." She didn't know why the Inspector thought Ben was Christine's son, but she was going to play along. NOBODY disturbed her while she was practicing her lines for the upcoming play, Macbeth. She might not have the biggest part (She was Witch Two), but as Mr. Fauth, the director, often said, "There are no small parts, only small actors." She quietly observed the Inspector. He seemed rather agitated. By watching his movements for the past few minutes and recalling his vocal intonements, she deduced that he didn't want this job; rather he was being forced into it. "Were you forced into this?" she asked. "No, No! Of course not" Meguire stammered. She grunted and picked up her book. It was very good so far. It was called "Amazing Grace". "Is she a relation of yours?" the inspector asked. "Who?" the girl replied absentmindedly. "The author, Stephanie Weidner. You have the same last names.?" Weidner giggled. "No. I wish though. She's a great author. Now I do believe we are done." She quickly stood up and began ushering the Inspector out the door. "Wait," he said, "Where do Miss Daae's parents live?" The girl stared before staring madly at the Inspector. "Over on 42nd street. 325 apartment C. Can't miss it." she huffed before pushing him out the door. She walked over to the side table in her apartment that she and Christine had shared before Christine had mysteriously left. She sighed and gathered up her script preparing to practice. At least until she saw the Society headline. "GOVERNOR"S DAUGHTER JILTED!" She quickly read the article, before gasping. "Oh, Christine," she moaned, "What have you gotten yourself into?" She grabbed her coat and headed outside. "TAXI!" she screeched. Soon enough a taxi pulled over. "Where to, Miss" the cabby asked. "The Penthouse of Erik Demetrius. And step on it!!" she said impatiently as the taxi revved and pulled into traffic.

Erik stared at the paper. "Who wrote this?" he asked in a detached tone. Nadir shifted from foot to foot. He had expected Erik to react with rage, but instead he was acting icily. "A Mr. Buquet sir. He's a journalist." Erik stared at the paper for a few more seconds before tossing the paper into the fireplace. " I will not stand for this," he hissed. "This is ridiculous!! And it makes Christine sound like a slut." He stood up and began pacing. He was mad at everything today. He didn't want Christine to leave. And yet, how could he not let her go? He wanted to make sure she was happy. "You like her don't you?" Nadir's voice penetrated Erik's train of thought. "What?" he said absently. "I asked if you liked her?"
"Who?" Erik asked. "Why, Christine of course! And you seem quite attached to Ben as well." Erik began sputtering, "What ever gave you that idea?" "Well," Nadir began, "There's the fact you went shopping for her, you stood up to Isabel for her, and..." "I get the point, Nadir," he grumbled. "So do you?" Nadir pressed. "I don't know," Erik replied, staring pensively out the window.

Christine sighed as she pulled on her clothes. Jeanne had come by earlier and had swept up Ben to coddle. She had insisted on it. " Today's my last day with him. It'll only be for a few minutes. Christine stared at the clock. The digital letters proclaimed the time. 11 o'clock. Christine sighed again. She slowly slipped out the door, and began walking towards the kitchen.
She smiled as she saw Ben sucking on a bottle. Jeanne smiled sadly as she saw Christine. "Do you really have to leave?" she asked in a mournful tone. "Yes," Christine murmured. She took Ben from Jeanne's arms and watched him finish his bottle. She burped him and rocked him to sleep. All of them slowly walked towards the door. They reached the parlor where Erik and Nadir currently sat. "Good morning Christine," Erik said softly. "Good morning, Erik," Christine replied. An awkward silence descended on all of them. KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK! Several knocks resonated throughout the penthouse. Jeanne quickly ran to get it. Erik and Christine stared at each other for several seconds, before glancing away. "Are you really leaving?" Erik asked softly. Christine unable to trust her voice nodded. A voice shattered the silence. "CHRISTINE!" the shout reverberated throughout the house as its owner charged through the door, red hair flying out behind her. Jeanne came panting in after her. "I'm sorry sir, I couldn't stop her. The girl was babbling on to Christine. "Oh my god, Christine are you all right? And Ben, is he okay? Why didn't you call me. Oh my God, Oh my God!!" Christine gave Ben to Jeanne and attempted to calm her friend down. "Ann, Ann calm down. Deep breaths, now, deep breaths." Ana calmed down and wobbled over to a chair and collapsed onto it. "Ana Weidner, what are you doing here?" Christine asked. "You know her?" Nadir asked. Christine nodded. "We shared a dorm room." "Yeah," Ana agreed, "Even though we had totally different majors." "How is the Theater Studies going anyway, Ana?" Ana grinned. "Fine. I'm Witch Two in Macbeth. But I digress. To quote one of my lines: Something wicked this way comes. Have you read the Society section yet?" Christine's stomach sank. "No," she replied. "Well your mother's novio wrote something really nasty. Christine, you should have told me that you were having trouble with him. I would have gone and kicked his a... you get the idea." she paused, composing her next sentence. "Did you really jilt Isabel Leigh?" she asked Erik. He stiffened, as he replied, "No." Ana stared at him before addressing Christine, "Christine, do you remember what I told you when you first came to NYU?" Christine nodded, "Yeah. You said don't deal with the rich of New York. Why do you ask?" Ana began blushing slightly. "Yeah, well, a private investigator came over today. And he was... well he was asking about you. And I told him where your mom used to live. I'm really sorry, I didn't know she was dead, so he's going to be talking to Buquet." Ana had started crying slightly. "I'm really sorry, I didn't know." Christine immediately tried soothing her. "It's all right." Ana shook her head. "That's not the worst," she said between sniffles. "I think that the investigator was working for Isabel Leigh!" and with that closing statement, Ana completely broke down in tears.