I am very sorry for the shortness of this chapter, but my inspiration refused to work with me well I was writing and then I found out that I basically got fired from my job for stupid reasons so that basically killed any urge to write.


Erik forced himself to govern his anger as he watched Philippe de Chagny take his leave from Ron's dressing room. It was not that he had not expected Ron to have his fair share of lovers over their time apart—the boy was seventeen now, after all, and far from unattractive—but he had never thought that he would have been with the spawn of Raoul de Chagny.

The boy had been proven quite infuriatingly to be the exact double of his father. The only sign of Christine in his disgustingly perfect features were the finely arched cheekbones inherited from her Scandinavian blood and the wide expanse of his full mouth. Besides for that, there was nothing about Philippe that did not suggest that he was nothing more than a miniature of his father.

It even seemed that, like his father before him, Philippe preferred young singers with features that were as lovely as their voices.

Erik was drawn from his ever worsening thoughts, however, by a sudden sigh from Ron, who was staring at the door that Philippe had just left from and shaking his head.

"I can't believe him," He muttered. "It's been eleven years since we saw each other! I never thought that he would be so serious about something that happened when we were only kids. I mean, it's not like we ever took anything serious back then."

Erik could not stop himself from finding a certain relief in Ron's words and the tone of his voice. It seem that the boy found Philippe's declarations of love to be foolish, and if that was true, then there might be a chance to turn him thoroughly away from the young de Chagny before it was too late.

He continued to watch Ron through the mirror, lost in his musings, until Ron turned his back on the mirror and began to undo the costume that he had worn during the performance.

Erik sucked in his breath, knowing that he should look away, but found himself unable to move. There had been plenty of opportunities for him, over his time at the opera house, to watch any number of chorus girls in similar situations through various different means, although he preferred to indulge in such manners. This was a different kind of circumstance, however, for he was not watching Ron out of any form of desire, but more that he was too captivated to look away.

Fortunately perhaps for Erik, Ron moved behind the elaborately designed folding panels that were provided for every important singer to change behind in their dressing rooms.

Erik released a breath that he didn't know he had been holding and took a few steps back from the mirror. He had meant to offer Ron his congratulations on a magnificent opening night for he had not properly talked to the child in far too long, but he now thought that such things could wait until after the other performance the following night.