The next night, Colette sat in her room, staring at the sketch that she had drawn of Erik and Christine. She wasn't even close to being ready for her date with the Count, and she only had a few hours to go until the performance. She couldn't get her mind off of Erik. She was worried about what he was going to do since Carlotta was taking over the role of the Countess and Christine was playing the mute. She had already seen a touch of his anger. However, she wondered how far he could go. She moved the drawing aside and sighed heavily, placing her head in her hands. How could she stop this? Was there even a way to stop it? After a few moments, there was a knock at her door. She brought her head up and stood, wrapping her robe around her before answering the door. On the other side stood the Count, darned in the concert attire that he wore that first evening that they met at the gala. His hair was pulled back as it usually was, and he was growing a goatee which made him look even more dashing than before. "You're not ready," he observed, not moving as he stood and watched her. "Are you feeling all right?"

"Yes, I'm fine," she replied, running her hand through her hair. "I'm sorry that I'm not ready. I've been a little preoccupied lately."

"Yes, you have. You were painting day and night for the last two weeks."

"How do you –"

"I've been speaking with the managers. They've been keeping me updated on your progress and how you're adjusting here."

"Well, thank you," she said softly, moving to open the door a little more, still holding her robe closed around her. "You're early. The opera doesn't begin for another few hours."

"I know. I have dinner waiting for us nearby. That is, if you would like to join me."

She nodded. "I'm famished. Just give me a few minutes to get ready and I'll be right out."

He nodded, bowing politely and moving away from the door. She closed it, sighing softly. She went over to her closet after she took her robe off, taking a dark purple gown out and laying it on the bed. She looked towards the mirror before starting to take off her slip, as if she were checking to see if he was there. She undressed and washed herself at the basin and rinsing out her hair so she could fix it. She moved to dress in a clean slip and pulled on a corset, cursing softly as she tried to tie it herself, realizing that she would be unsuccessful. "You need to quit being silly," a voice said behind her. She jumped, covering herself as she turned around. Erik was standing there, shaking his head. "No, I didn't see you unclothed. I just got here and saw that you were having difficulty with your corset. Turn around; I'll tie it for you." She nodded, turning around and placing her hands on the footboard of the bed, holding on as he pulled tight. "I see you have an escort for tonight. Who is he?"

"Count Vladimir de Maurier. He's one of the new patrons this season."

"That's odd," Erik commented as he pulled tighter, causing Colette to catch her breath and hold onto the footboard even more. "I don't remember him meeting with the managers."

"That's all I know," she said through strained breath as Erik tied the back of it, patting her on the shoulder to let her know that he was finished. She took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "He's very handsome. However, I'm not sure what to think of him."

"Well, you have every right to be happy," he said to her has he handed her the dress so she could put it on. "I need you to promise me something about tonight."

"Anything," she said as she pulled the dress over her head, finding her way through the fabric as Erik helped her.

"No matter what happens, don't come looking for me tonight."

"What? But Erik -"

"Colette, please," he pleaded with her, taking the ties to the back of the dress and tying it quickly. "I can't guarantee what the consequences of my actions will be tonight, but I don't need you trying to find me and getting yourself hurt. Please, promise me."

"No."

"What?"

"I'm not going to promise that," she said as she pulled away from him, finishing tying the dress at her vanity. "You're my friend and I'm not going to let anything happen to you. You just have to learn to trust me more with promises that I give you my word on."

"You will learn not to defy me," he said in a harsh and cold tone, leaving as quickly as he came, closing the mirror behind him. She sighed, shaking her head as she braided and pinned her hair up. Erik confused her so much. First, he would be kind, understanding, and almost loving towards her at times. Then, as quickly as he would show a hint of caring towards her, he would turn cold and heartless and didn't seem to care about what she did. She pulled her shoes on, touched up with a hint of make-up, and checked herself over in the mirror, deciding that this was the best that she could do. She stood and grabbed her parcel, going to the door and opening it. The Count was standing there, waiting patiently with his back to her. She closed her door and approached him, placing her hand on his shoulder. He turned around and smiled at her, his eyes having a certain intoxicating glow about them. She swallowed, folding her hands in front of her. He approached her slowly, moving to take her hand and kiss the top of it, smiling at her.

"I'm sorry if this isn't appropriate," she said to him nervously, nearly quivering as he touched her hand. "It was all I had."

"Don't be ridiculous," he replied, wrapping her arm around his. "I think you look beautiful. Come, let's go to dinner."

He escorted her through the theater as they walked to the carriage outside. Everyone stared at them as they walked, making Colette feel self-conscious. She soon found herself gripping his arm as tightly as she could, which made him stop and turn to her to make sure that she was all right. She stopped immediately, dropping her arm to her side. "I'm sorry," she said softly, glancing at the people around them. "I just don't like people staring at me, and that seems like that's all they have done since we stepped out into the theater."

He moved her hand to her cheek, pulling her close. As soon as he touched her, she immediately felt calm, melting into his touch. "They are staring because of jealousy. I'm with the most beautiful young woman in the world, and what they have cannot compare to your beauty and grace, Colette. And you shouldn't be ashamed of it."

"How can you know to make me feel so relaxed when I feel the most insecure?"

"Let's just say that it's a gift," he smiled, moving aside as he opened the carriage door for her, helping her inside. As she got in, he looked up to the roof of the Opera Populaire, grinning as if he could see someone watching them. He turned his attention back to her, getting into the carriage and closing the door.

As Erik watched the carriage drive off with Colette and this Count de Maurier inside, he knew that the Count had seen him. However, he wasn't sure how he knew that he was watching the two of them together, but it worried him. He knew then that he had to try and get into the managers' office and go through their files to figure out who this count was. Whoever he was, he didn't like him and didn't trust him at all.

Meanwhile, a few blocks away, Count de Maurier was sitting across from Colette in a private room away from prying eyes. There was food of all kinds surrounding them, and Colette could eat whatever she wanted to her heart's content. The Count watched her closely as she ate slowly and delicately, sending the waiter away to retrieve something. The dinner was quiet, and this was because of Colette. She wasn't really sure what to talk about with the Count. Compared to him, even though her family was wealthy and well known in London, she was a peasant and there was no point in communicating with the likes of him. He would think that she was incompetent and nothing but a painter, and that was all she would ever be. As she finished her plate, the waiter returned with a bottle of Absinthe, showing it to the Count and he nodded, smiling before. "Have you ever had Absinthe before," he asked her as the waiter moved to clear away the dishes that Colette used.

"I have to say that I have not," she replied as she dabbed her mouth with her napkin. The water brought over a pitcher of ice water, a slotted spoon, and a bowl of sugar cubes after clearing the plates away, offering to set it up for the Count, which he declined and sent the waiter away. "I haven't had any sort of drink, actually."

"Well, I have to tell you that you're in for an experience. Don't worry; I'll keep you on the ground." He smiled, pouring a small amount of Absinthe into a small glass.

"What exactly is Absinthe?"

"Absinthe is an aphrodisiac of the self," the Count replied as he placed the slotted spoon over the glass, then a sugar cube on the slotted spoon. "The green fairy who lives in the Absinthe wants your soul. But you are safe with me." He smiled again as he poured the water over the sugar cube, the bright green Absinthe now becoming cloudy and opaque. He picked up the sugar cube and offered it to her. She leaned forward and he placed it in her mouth. As soon as the sugar cube touched her tongue, she could taste the remnants of alcohol and she closed her mouth, his finger lightly touching her lips. She let the sugar cube melt in her mouth before taking the glass of Absinthe and sipping it slowly. She could feel the alcohol nearly flooding her mind immediately, swallowing the liquid and setting her glass down. "Tell me about yourself, Colette. I want to know everything about you."

Suddenly, she felt like an open book. Her walls were no longer up and she smiled at him. "I'm from London, which you know already. I'm only seventeen years old, the same age as the beautiful Christine Daae."

"What has brought you to Paris?"

"I was hired as the painter of the canvases for the Opera Populaire. You know that already also. What you don't know is about my family."

"Tell me about them."

"They're dead," she said coldly and with a voice full of hurt and anger, drinking more of the Absinthe, nearly downing the rest of it in one gulp. The Count shook his head, taking it out of her hand.

"You don't need that," he told her in a soft, gentle voice. He moved to her, taking her hands. "I can see that you're in pain from your family's death. Talk to me about it."

"No," she said simply, turning away from him to hide her tears. He turned her to look at him, moving his hand to her cheek, stroking it softly.

"You can't continue to bury your pain, Colette," he said to her, watching her. "Tell me about your family."

She sighed softly, looking down at her feet. "I had a mother and a father. I loved them with all of my heart. We traveled all over Europe, but our home was in London. About a year ago, they went out for dinner and…and they never came home. The police came to our house the next morning and said that they were in some sort of accident. What they think happened is that the horse was spooked by something and they couldn't slow down, causing the carriage to crash and overturn in the street. I came here to start a new life and to claim my family's fortune since my parents lived here just before I was born and put some money in a bank. From what I understand, it's an exceptional amount of money."

"The death of your parents must have been awful for you."

"It was," she said softly, folding her hands together. "I felt like I was alone for the longest time."

"How do you feel now," he asked as he wiped her tears with his thumb.

"I…I'm not sure how I feel about anything."

"I want to make you sure about what you feel," he said softly, leaning forward and kissing her forehead. He opened his hand, revealing diamonds that were there in place of her tears. "These are for you. I understand that it's going to take time for you to decide how you feel about me, but I'm here to tell you that I'm here for you and I will wait for you for as long as you need." He placed them in her hand, helping her to stand with her opposite hand, kissing it softly.

"How can you love me after knowing me for such a short time," she asked as she placed the diamonds in her parcel.

"I loved you from the first moment I saw you. I just want you to be mine, and only mine. Come along," he said as he took her hand, kissing it again, leading her outside. "We have an opera to attend."