Hey it's me back again. I will update Backstage soon...its just a long chapter and is taking a while to get done with school work... 12 more exams left...whhooo hoo...

Wandering-Phantom: Yep, all the guys that I go out with are jerks...apart from this dark silent guy which I'm sorta swooning over... it's a hopeless case. He doesn't like me... like that anyway. You're absolutly right... it's the unmasking. I hope you find your own Erik soon...

AngeloftheOperaHouse: Well I updated... after about a centuary but it's here! I will only take Dominque for blackmailing... apart from that he's safe...and I didn't say in my review...can we have some more Jerome please...

anotherblastedromatic: It's true you really can be a diva at almost anything... or you could end up like me being second best... grrr. Well I'm glad that tyou like it... thanks

Well here it is, the unmasking. Tell me if you think that Christine reacts normally...waking up in a sttrange house and all bearing in mind this is modern setting. Thanks for your lovely reviews...

No, I don't own Phantom, yes Leroux and ALW do, no I can't persuade my music teacher that ALW is a genius and Micheal Crawford rocks, yes I need a life

Chapter Seven

When Christine awoke, she got the fright of her life when she realised that she was not in her own bed. What frightened her even more was in that moment of panic, she had no idea where she was. What had happened last night? Had she got drunk and gone home with a stranger? Had she been abducted? Had she been raped? Forcing these horrible thoughts out of her mind, she looked curiously around the room. The room was painted red, with thin black curtains hanging over the window. Christine was lying on a four poster bed with raised drapes, which reminded her of a prop out of a black and white romance film. The floor was scattered with books and papers. The occupant was clearly not a tidy person but they had created a pathway between the books between the wardrobe, bed and stairs. Christine began to piece together what had happened when she left the meeting. She remembered talking to Raoul but then he left her. She remembered walking across the playing fields and ducking under a willow tree. She remembered crossing a bridge and setting eyes on a small, secluded cottage. Then she remembered her companion

Erik bowed his head but said nothing to Christine as she appeared at the top of the staircase. He was sitting at his desk, scrawled over a mass of papers with small elegant handwriting on it. He waited until she was at the bottom of the stairs before speaking.

'Good morning Christine. I trust that you slept well.'

Christine looked at him, her eyes widening in surprise. Well, at least she hadn't spent the night with a man that she didn't even know the name of. Well, she didn't know Erik much better.

'Would you like a cup of tea?' Erik asked his eyes boring into Christine as she stood, stuck to the spot.

'I-ur, yes please,' Christine said.

Erik smirked, amused by her new awkwardness around him. He got up and shuffled towards the kitchen but Christine stopped him.

'No!' she said quickly. 'I mean, let me.'

Erik looked down at her. How beautiful she was this morning!

'Christine, you are my guest. Sit down,' Erik said, with a small authoritarian hint in his voice.

'Then why can't I remember coming here?' Christine asked frantically.

'My dear,' Erik said, gently stroking Christine's cheek. 'That heat must have been unbearable for you.'

'What are you talking about?' Christine asked more frantically. 'Tell me Erik? What happened last night?'

Erik placed his hands on Christine's shoulders.

'Calm down my dear,' he said smoothly. 'You came over and ended up staying the night.'

'No! No!' Christine cried, working herself into a frenzy. 'I wouldn't have just stayed the night.'

'Christine,' Erik said firmly, looking at her in the eye. 'You fainted on me so I took you upstairs to recover. As you can see, I slept on the couch.'

Christine looked over to the couch were a flat pillow and a screwed up blanket lay. Feeling a wave of embarrassment flush over her, she turned away.

'I'm sorry,' she muttered. 'I didn't mean to be rude.'

Erik looked at her with an amused expression on his face. He liked the feeling of authority he had over her. She was still perfect.

'What do you take in your tea Christine?' Erik asked knowing full well that she had milk and two sugars.

'I'll make it,' Christine said, pushing past Erik into the kitchen, trying to hide her red face. 'How do you like it Erik?' she asked.

Erik decided against insisting that he made her tea.

'Black,' he replied.

Christine nodded as she looked around the kitchen for the kettle. She fumbled around for a while, only relaxing when she was sure that Erik was back at his desk and no longer watching her. Erik's kitchen was very small. There was only really enough room for one person to move around due to the narrow gangway and two people would have to slide past each other. Browsing through the cupboards, Christine eventually found the teabags. She was surprised to discover that the milk and sugar was unopened and got the feeling that they had somehow only been bought for her. As if he was expecting her. Christine shook the though out of her head and pulled the mugs out from under the sink as the kettle began to whistle. Christine made the tea but hovered in the doorway watching Erik as he poured over his papers. There was so little she knew about him. His name was Erik, that was about all she knew about him. He had somehow given himself the position of Christine's writing guru but didn't seem to want anything in return from her. And he had one of the most beautiful voices that Christine had ever heard. Full of such passion and emotion, she could completely loose herself in the sound of it. Was this really enough to know about the man that she was maybe, sort-of attracted to? Well, half attracted to. Something inside of her told her not to cast Raoul away so quickly.

As Christine watched Erik, her attention was caught by the mask that he wore on one side of his face. Why did he wear that? If was going to get to know him, Christine thought that it would only be fitting that something like a mask shouldn't come between them. Erik seemed to know her quite well. Wasn't it time for Christine to do something for herself?

Christine glided into the room with the tea. Erik did not register her until she put it down on his desk. He looked up at her as she leaned over his desk reading his work.

'It is my masterpiece,' Erik informed her arrogantly. 'My novel.'

Christine stood up straight and stood behind Erik as he once again picked up his pen. Christine leaned on his shoulder and ruffled her fingers through his hair. Erik was no doubt surprised but continued to write whilst trying to saviour the moment. The tips of Christine's fingers found the string that held Erik's mask on his face. Collecting herself, Christine ripped the mask off his face.

The howl that came from Erik could have been mistaken for that of a wounded animal. He leapt to his feet, his arm flailing out defensively. It hit Christine's cheek and she was knocked to the floor, dropping her teacup on the ground that smashed into several pieces.

'Damn you!' he howled. 'Why did you have to look? Why?'

Christine buried her face in her hands at the sight of his deformed face. The side that lay under the mask was bright red and lumpy, with clear veins throbbing from it. Half of his nose appeared to be missing. But what frightened her most of all was this aggressive nature that she had never seen before. Christine crawled away as Erik threw various items against the wall. She got to her feet and tried to run for the door but Erik reached it first. He held Christine against the wall with one hand and pulled back her hair with the other. He held the deformed side of his face close to her.

'Look!' he snarled as Christine closed her eyes. 'Is this what you wanted to see?'

Christine opened her eyes, tears streaming down her face. How could he be so cruel? She felt a pang of guilt for prying into something which Erik was so obviously sensitive about.

Erik's mood suddenly changed. He backed away from Christine, covering his face with a hand.

'Why Christine?' he said tearfully.

Christine handed Erik back his mask, staying as far away as she could from him. She had unmasked him alright. She had pried into a world that no-one else had seen. She had surfaced a horrific temper and the violent tendencies that she would not have believed that Erik possessed. Erik stayed in a heap on the floor as Christine backed away. Hastily picking up her bag on the floor she bolted out of the door.

'Christine!' Erik called hoarsely after her.