Its odd how people expect to have a good birthday. Its just another day and Erik knew that, but still.

Today sucked.

Erik huffed and curled tighter into the dark velvet around him, closing himself in and away from the rest of his surroundings. He only cut himself off from everything when he was deeply upset.

He didn't want to complain, but nothing was going as it should! He'd spent all morning alone and had just recently found out that Madame Giry was ill and wouldn't be attending the party that he wasn't really having anyway. He suspected his mother would try to throw him something despite how he'd insisted he didn't need a party.

The opera house was boring already. Now that he had all day to wait for something to change, it seemed to drag on forever. He wished, yet again, that he could just spend all day in box five.

"Erik." Erik froze, then pushed himself farther against the wall. The curtains swallowed him effectively, but being hidden didn't really help when the person already knew where you'd be. "The break is almost over. We should get back to practice."

"Go on without me, Meg." He yelled and hugged his legs to his chest. "I'm in no mood to sit through choir practice."

He heard the door swing open and a few angry footsteps march to where he was hiding. "Get up, Erik."

"No." He grumbled, then jumped when the curtains were torn aside. Meg gave him a harsh glare and pointed to the door. Erik sighed and stood, making his way out with the young Giry hot on his trail.

"You're a teenager now. You shouldn't act so childish. And stop slouching like that."

Erik moaned to himself. He was glad he had at least a few people who didn't look at him like a freak, but sometimes he wished she'd just scream and run and get it over with.

"Okay." He spun around as soon as they were back on the stage. "You have fulfilled your duty, as you can see, and now there is no more reason for you to follow me. Go and be on your merry way back to your side of the room." He gestured to where all the other ballet rats were gathered.

Meg looked over to the dancers, then back at Erik with a pout. "You don't have to be so abrupt." She turned with a flare, then left.

Erik stuck out his tongue before going to his lonely little stool to wait out the rest of the day.

"Everyone, everyone. Please get into your positions. We're going to start from the beginning of Eterno." Gabriel tapped his conducting wand against his podium. Everyone shuffled to their sections, then opened their books to begin.

"Dalla riva rocciosa che vediamo noi stessi in lutto per la perdita il passato non abbiamo più ricordi-"

Erik chewed his bottom lip. They were singing it all wrong. He had never before spoken out during practice; he only commented when Gabriel asked him to. But dammit! They were doing so horribly today! It was the tenors. They were flat and making everyone else go slightly flat as well.

"Um…sir?" Erik murmured. Unfortunately, he couldn't be heard over the roar of an ill-tuned choir. "Sir." He tried again slightly louder.

At this point Gabriel seemed to be ignoring him. He was old, but he had excellent hearing and had even looked at him through the corner of his eye. Eriks face heated slightly.

'He doesn't want my help. He's just going to let them continue to sound bad.' He frowned. 'Not as long as I'm the assistant choir director.'

"Stop!" Everyone jumped at the loud voice that seemed to come from everywhere. After a moment of slight confusion, everyone looked over to Erik. He gave them a hard glare to hide his rising insecurity from all the eyes focused on him. "You all sound terrible!"

Gabriel took hold of his shoulder. "Erik, this is not-"

"You-" Erik pointed to a large man in the back. "You're flat and making everyone around you suffer. Focus on what you're singing." He pivoted to look over at the altos. "And all of you need to sing louder. Its forte! The sopranos need a strong base."

"Erik!" Gabriel rubbed the bridge of his nose irritably. "You are not in charge of this choir. Get back to your seat."

"But-"

"Now." His face grew darker, making Erik quickly decide to obey. Once he was seated again, Gabriel had them start over. They all grumbled and started whispering things Erik didn't hear. There was only one phrase that caught his attention.

"…the phantom all over again…"

Suddenly, Erik saw a flash of something from his minds eye. Fire. Warm and harsh and everywhere! It was on the stage. People were screaming and one woman's wails overpowered the rest.

"Piangi, my love! No!"

Everyone was running and in the center of the flames was the remains of a large chandelier.

Erik shook his head and tried to calm his suddenly startled heart. He could hardly breathe; the smoke and ash in the air had seemed much too vivid. Yet another daydream that he couldn't decipher.

No one seemed to notice that Erik had drifted out of reality, which he was thankful for. The choir continued singing, the dancers continued dancing, and the maids continued gossiping while they dusted the many seats of the theater. Erik felt a bit out of place in all of this. He felt like hiding. He felt like… watching everything from a vantage point where no one would notice.

'that's crazy.' He chided himself. 'You belong right here on this stool, learning by watching Gabriel work.'

But it didn't seem too crazy. Not as crazy as everything else had been ever since he woke up in that underground room. Perhaps his older self had a whole catacomb of above-ground passageways that even Madame Giry didn't know about.

"Alright, that's it for today everyone. Costume rehearsal is tomorrow." Gabriel turned to look at Erik. "Don't ever try that again. You're not in charge of my choir. Your place-" He growled harshly, making Erik cringe. "is sitting there, silently!"

Erik nodded, though he had no intention of remaining quiet. As long as he had a voice he would work to improve this rather average chorus.

Gabriel nodded hotly and began making his way backstage. His anger seemed… fearful. Of course, everyone acted oddly around him and Gabriel was no exception, but he had seemed genuinely afraid that he was trying to take over. He had never given the man any reason to think such a thing, but there was no denying the fact that he'd have to watch what he said when around him.

As usual, he waited at the entrance for his mother to appear. A few choir members passed by and gave him devilish smirks. He shivered and sunk into the shadows, willing his mother to come faster.

"Are you alright, Erik?" Christine took his hand, though he quickly yanked it out of her grip and pouted.

"I'm a young adult now, mother." He tried to sound assured and insulted at her gesture, but it came out as more of a flustered whine.

She smiled and nodded. "You are. You've grown so much." She stroked his hair back slightly. "Shall we return home?"

"Gladly." He walked past her and led the way to the carriage.

Erik sat uncomfortably, staring down at his hands. "You said I was your voice coach, yes?"

"yes." Christine replied and stopped looking out the small window to give him her full attention.

"Did I ever work with Gabriel previously? When I was older?"

"No." She answered almost too quickly. "Why?"

Erik closed his eyes, remembering how she reacted the last time he'd brought his past into question. "I remarked on the choirs performance and he was very adamant that I not do it again. I fear I may have been of some competition to him."

She almost laughed, but quickly refrained. "You were a wonderful teacher. Probably the best there ever was. He does not want to be second best again. Don't feel too bad about it. He's feeling inadequate."

"Oh." Erik seemed to brighten at this. It wasn't all bad and it perfectly explained the mans fears. But there was still something missing. "Who was the phantom?"

Christine froze and didn't answer. Instead, she looked out the window once again.

"Mother…" Erik pressed on. "Was… was I the phantom? The one everyone keeps talking about?" He tried to lean over to see her face. "Is that why you wont talk about it?"

"This isn't something we should be discussing on your birthday." She shook her head.

"Consider it one of my gifts." He said wryly. "I just want to know why people look at me like I'm going to kill them."

"Trust me." Christine gave him a sad look. "I have told you little for your own safety. It does not matter what you once were. Its what you are now that makes all he difference."

"Is it an improvement?" Erik tilted his head, still trying to see her expression clearly.

She nodded. "I don't want you to become him again."

Erik slumped back into his seat unhappily. "Did you hate me?"

"No!" She quickly looked over to him and grabbed one of his hands. "Erik, please. Don't ask me to explain everything because I can't. It's complicated and painful. Everyone has their faults, but you've overcome them and I don't want to see you fall back into them."

Erik gave her a curt nod of understanding, but he didn't entirely accept that answer. He would always wonder what he had been, whether it be wonderful teacher or murderous monster.

They arrived a few moments later in front of the de Chagney mansion. Erik hopped out and extended his hand to assist Christine out of the carriage, though it was more of a practice gesture than of actual help since he was still too short.

Upon entering, Erik noticed that all the drapes were drawn and a path of candles were lit, leading upstairs. Being the ultimately curious little boy that he was, Erik quickly bounded up each step to follow where they led.

They curved along the hallway for a while, then stopped in front of the library door. Erik gave it a scrutinizing look-over before quickly pushing the door open and finding himself flooded with light.

"Happy Birthday, Erik!" He opened his eyes to find the usually quiet and dull room to be filled with boxes and people who were all giving him expectant smiles. He beamed, though part of him was slightly angered that Christine had prepared this against his wishes. Raoul held out a flat box which Erik quickly took and went over to the couch to begin opening. Once the paper was effectively destroyed and cast aside, he lifted the lid and pulled out a black jacket. He inspected the material, rubbing it against his fingers and tracing the intricate stitched linings, then smiled his approval and thanked him.

There were many gifts, including expensive quills, a few books, and a rather exquisite and fancy violin. Erik was grateful for it, but knew he'd never play it. After all, he knew how to make his own.

After he opened his gifts, he greeted all his guests properly as he knew a gentlemen should. Madame Giry had attended and explained that Christine had her pretend to be sick so as not to arise any suspicion of a party. Meg was also there, along with one of the other dancers whom Erik had quickly befriended because of her quiet nature.

A few of Raouls associates were there as well and spent most of the time talking amongst themselves, which didn't bother Erik at all.

"Your father has told us about your musical abilities." Said one of the men (who had been the one to buy the violin). He gestured to the piano. "Why don't you play something for us?"

Erik wanted to correct him for his invalid assumption that Raoul was his 'father', but was too happy to do so. He nodded with a broad smile and quickly sat on the bench before playing one of his personal favorite songs. Everyone seemed to enjoy it as well and caused a great deal of discussion for the rest of the party.

"A true prodigy you have." Another man commented and elbowed Raouls side with a chuckle. "I trust you are having him use it to its full potential."

Raoul gave his own laugh, though it seemed a bit distant. "He is the assistant choir director at the Opera Populaire." All the men nodded in approval.

"Such promising talent will assuredly get him far." The first man commented, giving Erik a smile. Erik returned the gesture sheepishly.

Once everyone had had their fill of cake and wine, they each began to leave, bidding Erik a fond farewell and happy birthday. After about an hour, everyone was gone and the maids began gathering the ripped paper and discarded boxes.

Erik now sat in his room, studying the books he'd been given. He knew they'd only last him about a week, but they were still very promising. Madame Giry seemed to know exactly what he would enjoy reading.

He fell back against his bed happily. Today had been quite wonderful, even if his morning had turned out poorly.

'And none of those men even looked at my mask.' He couldn't help but feel gratuitous at the small notice. It meant so much to finally be around people who wouldn't gawk or comment or run away.

'Maybe…' Erik thought as he curled onto his side and closed his eyes. 'I don't need to remember who I was. I like this me just fine.'

With a final sigh of contentment, Erik slipped into a memory-free dream.