A/N: Seeing that there is now a rule against replying to everyone on the story itself, I'll have to stop that. But I'd like to answer one question:

Aminta is not a creation of my own. It was the name Erik gave his main lead in his opera Don Juan Triuphant. It's significant then, you see, since the play him trying to seduce in in to loving him.

Five long months passed. Christine was in the chorus with many other girls of all ages, but she found herself shying away from really singing. Many times, she'd just pretend, learning the words only to lip sync them with the others. She was convincing. In a chorus of fifty two people, it was hard for the teacher to only focus on her, so she was easily brushed over. And never were both divas out at once, so she never had to worry about center stage.

But right now, Christine had just finished a terribly long day of rehersals. She was on her way back to her room when something caught her eye. A trash can was right outside the manager's office door, a newspaper laying on top. And on that paper? The likeness of Raoul!

Giving a sharp cry at his pained expression, she fell to her knees to grab the paper and read it's contents of her beloved fiancé.

From Paris, France

The Viscount Raoul de Changy, patron of the Opera Populaire, finds himself in great distress of the late. De Changy graced our papers seven months ago after the Opera House's fire, caused by the infamous Opera Phantom, or Ghost. He was nearly killed that night, trying to save his fiancé, slead soprano diva Miss Christine Daae. Both safely came back the same night, the mysterious Phantom disappearing ever since.

But now, it's the former singer whom causes this distress upon the Viscount. For five months she has completely disappeared, leaving not a single trace, despite how hard the officers have searched nationwide.

If anyone has any information about this missing person, please contact the address below. A weathly reward will be apprized.

Christine felt hot tears course heavily down her cheeks as she stared at the white and black blur in her hands. He still searched for her. He still hadn't given up. He still loved her, though she was nothing more than a spoiled brat. Anger welled up in side of her at her own self. Hatred at the wretched girl she had become. What would her father think of his princess now if he could see her?

"Miss Giry?" She heard behind her. She gasped, quickly wiping away her tears with vigor.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Monsieur Smith! But are...are you finished with this news paper?" She asked, begging him to say yes with her eyes.

"I suppose that's why it's in the trash, is it not? Why?"

"May I have it, Monsieur? "

"Ah, are you taken with that handsome young fellow? He's quite the looker, is he not? I hear many girls around here speak of him."

"You do?" She asked in shock.

"He's quite the story in France, and now it's here. Have you not kept up with the news?"

"Regretfully, I have not." She said, almost wanting to slip in the fact that she couldnt was because she couldn't afford a paper and that was why she was on her knees before a trash can, but kept silent.

"Take the paper. Just don't fantasize too much. Everyone thinks that because he fell in love with that soprano, that girls here have a chance. Obviously falling in love with a woman of that girl's stature was a grave mistake! She probably ran off with some secret lover she had, or is with child from one of them. It's what happens to many. No offense, of course." He said, for he had quite forgotten who he was talking to.

She tried to calm herself. He had no idea how offensive that was!

"How do you know she wasn't taken and is dead now, or something horrid of that nature?" She spit out.

He shrugged. "I suppose it's possible. Perhaps that's why the Vicomte is so avid on finding her - most likely it's his greatest fear. What I cant understand is why she'd run. She would have been marrying in to status and fortune - something she couldn't have with anyone else."

Christine opened her mouth, but he stopped her. "Please, Miss Giry! Next you will try to tell me that perhaps she was in love with that monster and ran with him! You are like all the others." He shook his head.

"How could she? Is he not still in his lair?"

"No. It has been searched a second time. Most of his belongings are missing, and he has vanished. Right around the same time as that Daae girl did as well. But it means nothing."

"Or it could mean everything." She whispered. Erik left? He had gone? She grabbed the paper and started to run to her room as fast as she could.

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She fell upon her bed and opened the paper again, reading quickly. She skimmed through where they talked about Raoul again, then saw an interview with Madame Giry.

Madame A. Giry, Ballet Mistress

I don't have the slightest idea where our

Christine could be, but I do know that

she is safe. Many people, my own

daughter whom was Christine's best

friend, fears that she is dead. I believe

it not, for I was told that she would

return just fine by someone who knew

Christine better than anyone else in this

world. Told me that she'd come back

when she was ready. I eagerly await

that day, and have complete trust that

she will.

And then she went on to talk about 'the Opera Ghost'.

You will not find him. He has fled.

Please remember that the man you speak

of is indeed just that - a man. He is no

ghost, no monster, no phantom. He is a

man who now wants to finally start living

the life he has been given anew.

No, he was no monster or phantom. He was no ghost. But he wasn't an angel either anymore. He was a man. A man that she had brought out of him with a simple kiss. And now, he had gone too, for reasons she could only guess. She knew that she was in New York after these five months that she had been gone. But where, in this great world, was he now? Where did he run to when she had killed his innocent angel with her actions? Where did he go when she left him for his enemy?

She flew to her pillow, sobs racking her slight body, the paper falling to the floor in her sorrow.

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