~Phantom~

Love Never Dies

"Beneath A Moonless Sky"

Christine:"Impasse" (Part One)

He was gone.

But my heart sped on, as my mind reeled with his words, his voice ringing clearly in my head as I heard his promise.

Tomorrow. . . .

But tomorrow, what?

What did he expect me to do? I could not just leave my husband;I could not abandon Raoul.

Could I?

No, no of course, I could not. I had made a vow to Raoul, to God, one I could not break.

Yet. . . .

Every particle within me wanted him. I never wanted to hurt Raoul, but I could not stop the longing that coursed throughout me for him. I was very much stuck between the proverbial rock and a hard place. I had no idea what I was going to do, but I did know that I had promised that I would see him tomorrow – and that I would.

I had to.

If I gave up the chance to see him again, I would regret it forever.

I sighed and sat heavily upon the sofa, placing my head in my hands, and released another sigh. At least, by some merciful higher power, Erik had not been able to tell that Gustave was his. The moment Gustave had come into view, my heart had stopped. I had thought surely Erik would know – that he would somehow sense it. And then, when Gustave had become excited and his eyes began to change, I felt as though I would faint. But even then, he had still not realized. I was relieved, yet a part of me was wounded. I was hurt that he did not inherently know that standing right before him, was his son.

Again, my head ached – it throbbed with worry, with all the questions that I had no answers to which I liked. Should I stay and risk my marriage? Or leave and risk never seeing Erik again? The drumming in my head was reaching a crescendo. I tried to stand, wanting to lie in bed, but everything around me swirled. I lowered myself back down onto the sofa and stretched my legs as I closed my eyes and willed all thoughts from my troubled mind. Thankfully, by some sweet miracle, sleep came and took me in her dulcet embrace.

It was bright.

So bright, that the light I looked upon had no beginning and no end; it engulfed everything. It was so pure in color, that it left me breathless awe. Then it began to dim, and I realized I was on stage, a glittering garnet gown adorned my body, a full house seated before me, and that wonderful light, was an electric stage light aimed directly at me.

I felt wonderful. I was where I belonged. I sang with all I had within me and when the aria was done, I was so happy, I cried. And then he was there, and all my worries instantly evaporated.

I was home.

I knew that with absolute certainty. I was where I was should be.

Again, I cried.

The guilt and shame I felt for abandoning Raoul overwhelmed me. Erik slowly lifted my chin so that I could look out into the crowd. Sitting in the front row was Raoul. He smiled at me. I smiled back. I gazed to his left and could not miss the tiny, beautiful blonde who was holding his hand. Uponher hand was Raoul's mother's engagement ring.She was his wife. And he was happy. He looked once more like the boy I had fallen in love with.

But Gustave . . . where was Gustave!

Panicked, I turned to Erik, who smiled and nodded in the direction of the wings, where I saw my Gustave. He looked so happy, so content that I thought perhaps we would all be better off if–

"WAKE UP!"

I was jarred awake by an extremely intoxicated, Raoul.

"Christine, I said GET UP!"

"Raoul, what – what time is it?"

"Time? Who cares about the time when there is a city like this!"

Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I sat up. "Well, I suppose that you are enjoying New York after all then." I was not sure how he had gotten in; the door had locked on his way out, but then I spied the unusual key peaking from his pocket. He must have grabbed it when leaving and I had not noticed.

"Enjoying it! Why, my dear wife – I should say that I am!" He laughed drunkenly, fell into the chair beside me and laughed again. "The Big Apple is not all that bad!" Another drunken cackle followed. "How about you, Christine, are you enjoying New York?"

I did not reply as I got up from the couch and began to walk in the direction of my room. I truly wanted nothing to do with him when he was like this.

He moved to my side far faster than he should have been able to, with the amount of alcohol, I had no doubt, he had consumed. "I was talking to you. The least you can do is answer me before you run off!"

If he had not had such a strong hold upon my arm, I would have ignored him and made my way to my room. But as it were,I had far too many worries on my mind, and I was not looking to add to them by fighting with Raoul.

Sighing, quietly, for fear that he would hear, which would surely cause a fight, I spoke tiredly. "I have been asleep, and have not gone anywhere – you know that." I knew the moment the last was out, it was a mistake.

"Do not get cross with me, Christine! How the hell would I know that you did not go out after I'd left? How would I know about anything you do!" He bellowed.

"Be quite or you shall wake Gustave and Bridget!" I hissed, angrily snatching my arm from his grasp; his strong fingers left red marks upon my pale flesh. "Raoul, you are drunk, and I am tired. I'm going to bed." I turned and walked away.

"Yes, go ahead!" He yelled after me, his words slurring into one another. "Run away, Christine – it's what you are best at!"

I closed the door to my room, and locked it behind me. It proved to be unnecessary, for he did not come looking for me, and when I crept out, some twenty minutes later, he was fast asleep on the couch. After going to his room, pulling the blanket from his bed, throwing it over him as he lay on the sofa, I went to my room and climbed back into bed, where I could not silence my mind a moment longer.

What was wrong with us? All of us? How had we all ended up in this farce of a life? Why was I still so frightened, Raoul unwavering, and Erik,wanting what he cannot have? Were we destined to play out this torturous opera until our deaths?

The next morning at breakfast, while smiling at Gustave across the table and trying to avoid a very hung over, Raoul, I still could not quell the voice in the back of my mind that whispered perhaps we were all better off apart – maybe my life, Raoul's, Erik's and Gustave's had gotten off track and now was the chance to right that wrong.

"Can I please, for the love of Christ, get some more coffee Bridget?" Raoul huffed, exasperated.

"Of course, sir." Poor Bridget, she might as well have been family with the way Raoul took his frustrations out on her, as easily as he did with Gustave and I.

"Mother,when can we find Mr. Whye so we can see the park?"

The forkful of scrambled eggs, I had all but placed in my mouth, fell to my plate in a loud clatter. With all that had happened, I had not taken into account Gustave innocently speaking of Erik's visit.

"Christine, please – the noise!" He cried, then turning to Gustave he interrogated, "And what do you mean can you go see the park with Mr. Whye?" He sat forward, looking from Gustave to me. "Christine, what in the devil is he speaking about!"

"While you were out last night, Mr. Whye stopped by to welcome us."

Please dear, God do not let Gustave speak of the mask!

He narrowed his eyes. "I thought you said that you didn't do anything after I left last night?"

"No. I said that I had not gone out." I corrected. "After you left, he stopped by the suite – like I said."

"Well, he's lucky that I was not here. I would have let him have a very large piece of my mind, I'll tell you that."

"He was very nice, Father. I liked him." Gustave offered with a winning smile.

"Yes, all this coming from a ten year old."He paused a moment. "He's taking Gustave on a tour of the park?"

"Yes," I replied, trying not to choke on the words. "He offered, and I thought, who better to show him around than the creator?" My mouth was dry, my heart hammering. I needed to bring the subject of Mr. Whye to a close before Gustave could say anything else.

"It's the least that he could do after sending those freaks to receive us." He mumbled, as he sipped on his coffee and placed the warm compress Bridget had just given him upon his head.

"Gustave, how would you like to see the ocean with me?" I needed to get away for a while.

"Oh, yes Mother! I'd like that very much!"

"Will you join us?" I asked, even though I already knew the answer.

"No. My head is an aching mess. When I can get the pounding to cease, I'm going to see a fellow I met last night. A Mr. Cromlin – Cromson – something like that, anyway, I said that I would meet him to discuss some possible business."

Business my ass.

"That's fine. I suppose we'll see you tonight, then."

I rose from the table.

"Do you want me to come along, Madame?"

"Thank you, Bridget, but no. Please feel free to look around the city after Mr. de Chagny's finished his breakfast, though." I smiled. I did not want her to feel like a prisoner in the hotel, especially since her discomfort of the place had not yet eased.

She was a bit crestfallen, but smiled anyway. "Very well, Madame. I hope you enjoy your day."

"Yes." Raoul voiced from beneath the cloth pressed to his face. "I hope the two of you have a marvelous time. I shall – as soon as this blasted headache leaves me." Throwing the towel from his face and onto the table, he turned to Bridget. "Another one, please." The last I saw was Bridget running off to fetch a warm towel for Raoul.

We made our way to the library and Gustave, with glee, followed the instructions Kerie had given us the night before. No sooner had the door opened, than Gustave was grabbing me by the arm, and pulling me towards the circular stairwell. "Mother, come on!"

Once behind the wall, Gustave tugged upon the only unlit torch, and we watched as the wall closed before us.

"Darling, before we go, I want to talk to you for moment." I knew that he wanted to run down the stairs straight away, but I needed to warn him of speaking about Erik in front of Raoul.

"What is it, Mother?" His face suddenly filled with concern.

"Well, you see – Mr. Whye and I have known each other for a very long time, and your father does not like him, and has no idea that Mr. Whye – Erik – is the same person that has summoned us here. He would be extremely unhappy if he were to find out who Mr. Whye really is. I do not wish to see him so. Gustave, I would appreciate it if you would not mention Mr. Whye and his . . . oddities, to your father until I say to, all right?"

"How long have you known him, Mother?" He was not puzzled nor suspicious, he was curious.

"Since I was a little girl – he is the man who taught me to sing."

His eyes lit. "He is! Mother he must be a very talented teacher if you sing as well as you do."

I smiled. "Thank you, my love. But, Gustave – do I have your word not to say anything to your father?" I hated making him do this, but I had no other option; I could not tell Raoul.

"Of course you do, Mother. I won't say a thing." He smiled.

"All right then, ready to see the ocean?" I grinned happily. I loved spending time with him.

"Yes!"

"So what are you waiting for?" I laughed. That was all I had to say.

"How will we know when we've reached the first floor?" Gustave asked, already springing happily down the steps.

No more than fifteen steps down, we came upon the first landing. A silver door marked: Floor 18, greeted us.

"I suppose that is how we shall find our floor. We have quite a way to go."

"Race you!" And Gustave was off.

We were laughing as we burst through the silver door that opened into the lobby. People were walking about, as I took in the circular shaped room. All around us were black glittering doors, exactly like the one we had just come through. There were thirty six doors in total.

But how could that be? Didn't Kerie tell us yesterday that each suite had its own private stairway, exit? It didn't make sense. There were dozens of doors on our floor alone, each opening to a suite, I had assumed.

"Mrs. De Chagny!" Kerie sang, walking towards us in an emerald evening gown adorning the right side, and a white pants suit covering the other. "I see you've found your way – with ease I hope? Mr. Whye has made it quite clear that you and your family are to be treated like royalty."

"Oh, yes Kerie, we found our way perfectly. However, I could not help but notice that there are thirty six doors. There cannot be only thirty six suites in the entire hotel?"

"Ah, but there is." He smiled. "Two suites per floor. Mr. Whye occupies floors, nineteen, twenty and twenty one. They are his private living space and are off limits to guests."

Now that I had thought about it – our suite was far too large. All the doors we had passed walking to our suite must have been false, just for show; it was yet another illusion of Hotel Phantasma.

"How can he make any profit with so few suites?"

Kerie smiled widely. "Our suites are highly sought after, Mrs. De Chagny, the most wanted in all of Coney – some say New York. Mr. Whye charges top dollar for them. The hotel makes a superb profit – Mr. Whye is nothing if not clever with business."

"I think it's a wonderful idea." Gustave chimed. "I can definitely see why people would pay top dollar to stay in such a fantastic place!"

"And so they do, young Comte!" laughed Kerie,and turned all attention back on me. "Mr. Whye would like to see you now."

"Now?" My mouth went instantly dry. Erik said that he was going to come to me, not I to him,

"Yes."

"But what of my son?"

"That's not a problem, Mr. Whye has instructed me to show the young Comte Hotel Phantasma – there is much for him to see."

"Well, I–"

"Oh, Mother, please let me go! I so want to see the rest of the hotel!" It appeared the ocean was forgotten.

"But what of seeing the ocean together?"

"I want to see the ocean, Mother, but may I please see the rest of the hotel first?"

I hated leaving him in the care of anyone other than myself, but I knew that Erik and I must speak – something that could not be done in front of him.

"All right, darling – you may go."

Embracing me tightly, he exclaimed, "Thank you!"

Pulling him away from me I said, "Please be careful, Gustave. And do not, under any circumstance, wander away from Kerie. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Mother."

"Good boy." I loved him more than I thought I was ever capable of loving anything.

"Come along with me young Comte." Kerie took him by the hand. "Now, Mrs. De Chagny – if you take the corridor labeled Africa, which you will find through the hall to your left, to its end, you will find a tiger. You must pet it, and the door to Mr. Whye's domain will appear. Everything here is an illusion of some kind, doors are just not simply found here in Hotel Phantasma." Kerie grinned.

"It's amazing!" Gustave exclaimed. He seemed to love every single thing about the place; his cherub's face was aglow with excitement.

"That it is." Kerie smiled. "I'll be sure to return the boy to you after your time with Mr. Whye."

"Thank you, Kerie." I turned to Gustave. "Have fun, my love."

"I will!" He beamed.

"Now," began Kerie, "what would the young Comte like to see first? Italy, Spain, Egypt, Mongolia. . . ." Kerie was still voicing choices when the sound finally faded as I entered the first hall.

It was fairly short; I could make out its end and the two passageways there. The entire space was stark white. The walls, the floor, the ceiling, the table I passed, with a white rose in a vase – it was all white. It gave me a strange feeling of being off balance. I made it through quickly, and came upon two corridors. One labeled Africa, the other Iceland.

I stood dumbfounded.

Before me, in perfect replication, was an African jungle and an Icelandic wasteland, all ensconced within two long corridors. How he had accomplished such a feat, I could not even begin to fathom. I could actually feel the cold streaming from one and heat from the other. I was quite glad I did not have to enter the Iceland hall, yet the African one, did not seem a great deal better. I took in a deep breath, shook my head at Erik's ingenious talents, and entered Africa.

I made my way through the thick brush, the leaves and vines getting caught on my rose colored dress. I tripped once, fell and landed in dry, cracked dirt – real dirt, for I had to wipe the back of my dress when I stood. I was taken completely back by my surroundings. It all seemed so real. I knew that it was not, but it was a perfect illusion. I emerged from the green brush into a tawny, dry open space. Hunched over in the tall grass, was a lion. It was so real, it stole my breath. I walked past it – slowly.

Yet, what I found most amazing was the heat. It had been cool and comfortable before I had entered, but not any longer. The heat was so powerful, if it felt as though the sun its self were radiating her warmth upon me. I wished there was a way for me to shed some layers, but there was none. I was stuck to endure the scorching heat.

Finally,I saw it. Sitting in the brush covered trail, blocking my path, was the tiger Kerie had told me of. I knew that in order to move any further I was going to have to pet it. It was unsettling. The thing seemed too real; its eyes moved as I moved, following me – watching me. Its chest rose and fell with each breath, and I was having a hard time believing the thing wasn't real. The idea of having to get close enough to caress it was not welcome. No one in their right mind would want to touch it. But carefully, I walked towards it; it emitted a low, warning growl as I approached – its eyes never leaving me. I kept telling myself not to be ridiculous, that it wasn't real, and in doing that, I made my way to stand beside it. I lifted my hand and placed it upon its head, and began to pet.

Its fur was soft as velvet, and as I stroked its head, it purred under my touch. Behind it, where it had appeared that the trail continued, was a wall. The camouflaged door slid open, revealing a set of gold and pearl steps which led up. They went far up. As I thought that, moving for the beautiful stairs, the floor beneath me gave way and I began to fall. I fell for what seemed floors, down a metal tube, a slide, and plopped onto a black marble floor when I came to its end.

And then I heard it.

Music so sweet, so achingly beautiful that it could only come from one source.

Standing, I observed the space around me. It was brightly lit. Electric lights hung above the burgundy covered walls, and though the room was highly illuminated, the combination of the ebony marble floor and red walls, gave the atmosphere a personal, intimate feel.

There was no hesitation in me as I walked towards the source of the music that called to me.

Across the massive oval room, I saw him. He sat at a magnificent glass piano. It was beyond imagination. A rainbow of colors played throughout the glass structure. Each note created its own, distinct and unique color. The music, the colors . . . they beckoned me forward. I was beside him, my hand rested on the white linen of his shirt; the muscles beneath the fabric flexed at my touch. And just as I believed the melody could not get any sweeter, that the light show around me could not be any more exquisite than it already was, the colors turned dark, the melody sad, wistful. It tore at my heart, my soul, because I realized what the melody symbolized.

Him.

It was an audible account of the highs and lows of his life. He finished on a high-note, quite literally, his fingers pressed on the last ivory key; the sound, a soft whisper of hope.

Without a word, he turned on the seat to face me. I looked at him – really took him in and studied his face. I scanned over the white mask that had so fascinated me as a youth, and concentrated on the slight lines and creases that dotted the exposed side of his face. His high cheek bones, amber eyes, and full lips were still as appealing as when I had first seen him.

Whenever in his presence, I felt as though an invisible electric current poured from him to me, this time was no exception. I was alive with it.

Though I was standing, I was only slightly higher than him as he sat, and the longer the silence dragged on the more potent the current became. I watched, fascinated, when his eyes brightened with intensity as I moved closer and stood in the space between his long legs. The amber in his eyes slowly began to turn gold. I touched his face with the tips of my fingers; I was so captivated by those eyes. They were so very much like my child's – our child's. They betrayed his emotions, as easily as they did his son's.

"Have they always looked like this?" I asked, still caressing the soft skin beneath his eye.

"So unusual in color?" He cleared his throat, thick with emotion. "Unfortunately they are but another oddity belonging solely to me." He said bitterly, and stood as I dropped my hand from his face. I backed away. That powerful current had lost its strength, and was now but a light hum. My interest in his eyes had broken the spell.

"I did not mean you to upset you, Erik. I was only curious." It was the truth; I wanted to know because his son possessed the same trait.

"Forget it.' He walked away, turned his back to me and rifled through papers that sat on an emerald-like glass desk. Every item of furniture within the room was made of some kind of glass, glass of all different colors. It was like existing within someone's dream. It was beautiful.

The silence that festered in the charged air was palpable.

"Well, I can see that you remain as moody as ever, that certainly has not changed." I was irritated. He was the one who wanted me to come to him, and now he was ignoring me.

He sighed heavily, his shoulders flexing as he did so. He turned to me. "I am sorry, but I do not enjoy when anyone – anyone –" he stressed. "points out my rarities. Even you."

"You wanted to see me?" I was annoyed. There should be nothing he could not speak to me about.

He smirked, enjoying my vexation. "Yes, I did, didn't I?"

When he said nothing further, just stood there and grinned, taking me in from head to toe, I turned on my heel, but before I could take a step, I was in his arms.

"Not planning on going anywhere, I hope? You would have quite a time trying to find your way back."

"Please tell me what it is that you want. I do not wish to play games with you. "

"Not even one?" His eyes glittered shamelessly.

My look was answer enough.

"All right," he laughed,"I had never seen him like this. His arms held me tight against his body; the electrical current growing stronger with each beat of my heart. "I shall tell you why I have brought you here." Lightly, he brushed a stray strand of hair softly back into place behind my ear. I shivered.

"I want you, Christine. I am asking that you stay with me. But it must be because you want to. I will never again force you to do anything you do not want."

"How can you expect me to leave my life – my family?" I said it, but I was hoping that maybe he would come up with an answer, even though I knew there was none.

"No!" He quickly amended, releasing me. "I would never expect you to leave the boy;I do not believe his father is competent enough to care for him."

So he knew what Raoul had become.

"It is not so simple, Erik. Things can never go back to the way they were, too much has altered." It was true. Things could not go back to what they were, but there was nothing that could ever change my love for him.

"I do not want things ever to revert to what they once were. All that I wish is to have you near again. I have accomplished so much, and yet . . . it is all pointless to me without you."

He came to me, placing his hand over my heart. "Feel that?" He asked, his eyes burning into mine. My heart hammered under my hand. "It is your heart, and it is alive." Taking my hand, he placed it upon his rapidly beating heart. "Feel that? It is only alive when you are near." He slowly ran his fingers along the tender flesh of my thigh, and everything began to get hazy. I closed my eyes, trying to steady myself, when I felt the softness of his lips upon my neck. I knew I had no choice but to give in. He pulled his lips away and ran his hand from my neck to my breast; there he stopped. It was exactly where the scare I loathed, resided.

He knew about that, too.

"How have you remained with him so long?" He was hurt and puzzled by that; the amber in his eyes darkened with woe.

"You left. You made it clear that I was not wanted. The opera, Madame Giry, Meg – they were all gone. I had no one else to turn to. And I did love him,, Erik – I mean I do! I do love him!" Or course I loved him. I was just no longer in love with him. "What should I have done, Erik? We both know I cannot do much but sing."

"How could you have a child with him so–" I did not let him finish.

It was my chance to tell him who Gustave's father really was, yet . . . I could not utter a word of truth. Instead, I lashed back at him. "How could I what, live? Was I supposed to fall down and die when you left? I may not have had the most idyllic marriage, or life, but I am still living – I have not died without you!"

"I never expected you would fall down and die, as you so dramatically put it," he laughed when I scowled. "But I also never wanted you to settle, either."

"You did not leave me much of a choice, now did you?" I could not help the venom in my tone; part of me still hated him for leaving me – even though I had suspicions all along that he had done it because of me – for me – all the same, he still left. Now we were all in such a mess, and he wanted me – wanted me to throw away the life I had built, for something new, something I had wanted from the start, a life with him. But it was not so easy. There were lives at stake, and people who would be hurt.

"No, I suppose I did not, did I?" He answered sadly.

"I had no one else, Erik – no one. I know how that sounds, but it is true. Though I love him . . . no matter what I do – I cannot help but love you more."

His glittery yellow eyes and the burning within, said it all. Before I could speak further, his lips were again upon mine. I could not think, could not feel – anything but the erotic current that was growing between us.

"Christine," he breathed, as his mouth left mine, only to join it again a moment later.

I was swirling.

I was exactly where I wanted to be; lost in the bliss of his lips upon mine. So powerful was the energy pulsating from his body to mine, that for a brief moment, I almost forgot about my family. Almost.

"No, Erik – please, please wait a moment." But his insistent lips refused to leave mine. "We cannot do this!" I pulled my wanting lips from his, and took in as much air as I could to help clear the fog of my need. He let me go; I put my hands on my head and tried to gather my thoughts so I could speak.

"Do not deny what you feel for me, Christine!" He said passionately. "I know what it is to be a slave to love. I feel all that you do, and more."

"I have tried to deny it." I confessed. "Ten years, I have tried to conceal the love I feel for you . . . but it never fades." Tears clouded my vision. "The need for you . . . it never leaves me."

Immediately he was upon me, his comforting arms enfolding me.

I loved him so much.

God . . . What am I going to do?

As if reading my thoughts, he implored, "Stay with me, Christine. Leave him, take the child and be mine once again."

"Erik . . . I have always been yours."

A sound, guttural, animalistic, emanated from him as he again took my mouth in his; I never wanted the moment to end. I was home again.

Home. . . .

Gustave. . . .

Raoul. . . .

"Erik, we cannot do this – we cannot!" I cried as I extracted my lips from his. "I will sing for you, but I cannot abandon him – no matter how far he has sunk, I cannot give up on him. God help me, I may not love him as I do you, but I do still love him."

"You cannot possibly believe you owe your life to him!" The glittering gold was beginning to shadow to a molten amber – he was heated.

"But I do! Do you not see? If it were not for him . . . I do not know what would have become of me. And to spite all his faults, most of the cause is due to me. You see, you have never left my heart, and I am afraid that when Gustave came, that there was hardly any left for him. And yet, he tried for a very long time to get me to love him as I once did, but I could not. You are all that I have ever wanted." I stopped a moment, looking into his beautiful eyes, and I smiled sadly. "Finally, he gave up and has become what you see now. The last five years, our whole lives have gone downhill and I have done nothing to stop it."

"His behavior is not your fault, Christine. No matter what, there is no excuse for what he has become."

"Love does strange things to us all. You of all people should know that."

His masterful hands lightly caressed my neck, and my blood boiled.

"Stay with me," he pled again, his breath warm upon my ear. "Allow me to give you the life that should have been yours. I realize that I may not be the ideal role model for the child, but I promise to always be there for him – for you. I would die before I would ever let any harm come to you. Unlike him." His eyes lingered on the spot where the scare resided.

"Raoul is not fully to blame for that, Erik. He has been hurting, and alone – he has turned to activities that are unsavory to ease his pain. I have not been able to help him, because I have been unable to help myself."

"Then let me help you, Christine." Backing up and taking both my hands in his, he said fervently, "Let me show you Phantasma. When you see the good that I have accomplished, you will see the life I have to offer you. Do this for me before you flee – do not say no; my heart could not bear it." The sincerity in his beseeching eyes overwhelmed me. If I denied him, it would kill him, and then my heart, my soul, would not be long to follow.

"All right, Erik. Show me your world."

*Author's Note:

I know that I'm leaving you guys on another cliffy, but I already have some of the next chapter written, so I'm hoping that it won't take me forever to get it to you. I'm really trying to make this as good as I possibly can, and I really hope you're all enjoying where the way this has been going. I love you guys and thank you so much for all the positive reviews – the reviews are what keep this procrastinator writing, as I've said before, LOL. Thank you. Thank you. THANK YOU!

And to my beta Grayskies 29 – I couldn't have found a better beta. You help make the story what it is, and I thank you, R ;)

-Shannon*