Chapter Ten: The Mask Comes Off

It's time, Erik finally decided.

"Chrissy?"

She turned her head and looked at him. "What is it?"

"Remember when you kept asking me if you could take of my mask?"

She nodded. "You promised me you would let me see when I was older."

He took a deep breath and placed her hand on his mask. "Go ahead."

Christine's eyes widened. "Do you really mean it?"

"Yes. But remember…" he said as he caressed her cheek lovingly. "That I will always be your friend. No matter what happens."

"Why are you talking like that? It sounds as if I just said goodbye to you."

Erik said nothing and took one look at her before closing his eyes. He created a mental picture of her then, making sure that he would always remember her face before she found out he was a monster.

Before she left him.

He felt her lift up his mask and heard her gasp. He waited for her screams, her shrill cries of how he could betray her like this, etc. etc.

It didn't come. He opened his eyes, only to find her smiling fondly at him.

"Chrissy?" he choked out.

"Oh Erik." She wrapped her arms around his neck, still holding on to his mask.

He was shocked. She was certainly full of surprises today.

"Why aren't you screaming?" he asked her.

She laughed and pulled away. "I find nothing to be scared of. This… ugliness you say you have changes nothing between us." Christine reached up and traced her finger on the wrinkled skin. "You're still my beloved Erik."

He laughed, half-relieved and half-ecstatic. He felt as if his heart would burst from the sudden euphoria that had taken a hold of him. He suddenly grabbed her by the waist and spun her around.

"Erik!" she exclaimed, giggling. "Put me down!"

"Oh Chrissy, you don't know how happy you've made me," he said, setting her down on the floor. "I feared you would turn away from me."

"Never." She kissed him fiercely on his deformed cheek before holding his mask away from him. "Can I keep this?"

"Why?" he asked, smiling at her. He now felt like he could take anyone and anything – he had Christine, the only person who mattered to him in the world.

"Because when you're with me, I don't want to see you wearing it," she replied. "Now that I know what you look like, I want to see you. The real you, not the mask-wearing Erik I've known for the past 13 years."

"Very well. But you're the only one who can see me like this, Chrissy," he reminded her. "I don't want others to see my face."

"I understand." She smiled and tried putting the mask on. "Your face is bigger than mine."

"Of course it is," Erik laughed. Christine looked ridiculous with his mask barely clinging to her face. She still was breathtakingly beautiful, however, and he gently pried the mask from her face and put it on his own. "Shall we return?"

Christine hesitated. "I want to spend more time with you, Erik. When I'm out there I have to be this prim and proper duchess. I'm tired of everything. I want to stay here with you."

For a moment Erik was tempted to let her, but he knew that would be impossible. They would certainly come looking for her, and knowing that fool Raoul de Chagny, he would be able to find his lair.

They'd be separated and he would never see Christine again.

"No, Chrissy, you have to return. If you go missing, they will search for you. Do you want them to find me?"

"No! I want to keep you safe, Erik." She sighed. "Very well. If you want me to return, then I will."

He almost corrected her; he almost told her that he didn't want her to return, he wanted her to stay with him forever. But he held his tongue. Christine belonged with society, while he… belonged here.

Erik accompanied her back to the passageway, but this time he led her to a passageway that brought them behind the hidden door behind the mirror in Christine's room. She gasped with surprise.

"So this is how you've been entering my room!" she said with delight. "Now I know where to watch out for you."

He smiled. "I've been watching over you, Chrissy. Protecting you."

"How sweet." Christine reached up and laid her hand on his mask. "Can you stay with me tonight?"

"Still scared of the dark?"

"No. I just… like knowing you're near me," Christine replied, her cheeks turning pink. "You must think me too forward. Never mind. Forget I said anything."

"No, no, Chrissy. I'll stay with you tonight," Erik assured her. "Farewell for now."

Christine smiled. "I'll wait for you."

As they said good bye, both of them suddenly felt hollow and empty, like something vital was being ripped from their bodies. But as always, they kept silent.

"So you're saying that Christine has a lover?" Eugene Colbert wheezed, slamming his cocktail glass on the mahogany table. "I don't believe it."

"Believe what you want, but I have seen the scoundrel with my own eyes. And she was kissing him. Kissing him, for Christ's sake!" Raoul gulped his bourbon in one go and motioned for the butler to bring him another.

Ever since Christine had sent him out of her room he had been drinking himself into a form of a stupor, until all he could do was stagger into bed and fall asleep. This gave him horrible hangovers, but he didn't care.

The woman he loved didn't seem to want him around anymore, and he marveled at how fast her attitude towards him changed.

He had deduced that it must be due to that man she has been seeing. At first he had thought it was Erik, but ever since Detective Neville had told him that there was no Erik living in the opera for the past 20 years, it was possible that the boy Christine was so intent on finding was merely a drifter.

After she left the opera house, so did he. After all, she seemed like his benefactor back then.

Raoul had been putting off his telling of Christine's fornications, but he couldn't stand it any longer. So he had ridden to the Colbert estate and told Eugene the whole sordid affair.

At first Eugene thought he was drunk, but after insisting that he wasn't, the man finally listened to him. Now he sat in shock and lit himself a cigar. Eugene inhaled deeply and let the smoke out in one huge puff.

"She has been trained well, she wouldn't act the way you say she does," Eugene said, still refusing to believe it. "He may be another close friend."

"Oh really? Then why haven't I met him yet? If they're so close, then why doesn't she want to introduce me to him?" Raoul snarled. "She's hiding something."

"My dear boy, perhaps she has found her match. With the way you've been going about her, she must think that you'd hunt the man down and murder him," Eugene suggested, exhaling another puff of smoke. "Let her go, man. There are other women in society."

"No. Christine Daae is the fairest of them all. I don't know why you even retracted your pursuit of her – not that I'm complaining – but she is a catch." Raoul took the glass of bourbon but sipped it this time. The hot, burning liquid went down his throat and settled in his stomach. He felt ready to gag at the very thought of another man touching Christine. "And one I have no intention of letting go."

Eugene scoffed. "You're obsessed."

"So what if I am?" Raoul said defensively. "Look at her. Tell me you can't look at her and desire her one way or another."

"I don't. I have a wife," Eugene said, but he could see where Raoul was leading. He shook all ungodly thoughts from his mind and crushed his cigar on the ashtray beside him. "Raoul. You're putting too much emotion on this case. If she isn't meant for you, let her go. Let her be happy."

"She'll be happy with me," Raoul countered stubbornly.

Eugene sighed. Raoul de Chagny always gave him a headache, first by competing with him for Christine's hand in marriage, second by beating him in every swordfight they had engaged in, and third for constantly insisting that he was the only one for Christine, blah blah blah.

"All I can suggest is that you take care," Eugene said. "The Daae family is very powerful owing to their ties to the throne of England. If you hurt Christine, you'll have a lot to answer to."

Raoul smirked. "Not if I get her as my wife and in my bed. Then nothing and no one will be able to touch me."

Eugene was about to say something else, but he was interrupted by Trevor. The boy grabbed his father's hand and begged him to take him to the plaza.

"Excuse me, my friend. A son needs his father." Eugene smiled apologetically at Raoul, who nodded his head in response. He watched Eugene and Trevor leave the room, the latter laughing gaily.

A petite woman entered the room and fixed her eyes on Raoul. Lucille Colbert usually had a calm demeanor, but now her eyes flashed angrily at him.

"Madame Colbert," Raoul greeted, standing up and giving a slight bow. "How may I be of service?"

"You talk of Christine as if she were yours," she accused. "Christine is a sweet, sweet girl and here you are, telling my husband wrong tales of my old friend. How dare you."

"Dearest Madame, I speak the truth. Christine has lain with another man and -"

"Have you seen them? Why must you judge her so quickly? So you saw her kiss him. On the cheek. He may be only her friend, Viscount. It's as if you don't know Christine at all!" Lucille's hand rested on her bulging belly and she glared at Raoul, who didn't back down.

He was all but infuriated. In fact, the situation was quite funny, given that some pregnant biddy was chiding him and harping on like some chicken. Raoul had to bite his cheek to keep him from laughing.

"The way you're acting, Viscount, I do not wonder why she has shunned your presence," Lucille said bitingly before leaving the room.

Raoul seethed. That last remark hit home, but he still refused to back down. He was a de Chagny, and whatever a de Chagny wanted, they got. Right now all he wanted was Christine.

Meg Giry was humming to herself as she brushed her long, blonde locks in front of the mirror. These past few days had made her so happy she could dance around like a ballerina. Christine and Raoul were hardly seen in public together, and Meg suspected it was because of the incident in Christine's room a few mornings ago.

Whatever the cause it left Meg free to pursue Raoul. She loved him deeply, and she hated Christine for not seeing his feelings for her. At times she wanted to grab the snotty duchess and shake the reasoning into her tiny brain.

But now Raoul had been kicked out of Christine's presence, and she sorely hoped he would fall into her bed.

Meg never had the life Christine had. At a young age she was forced to accept that she was unlike those glittering women who arrived in the opera house where she was born. All she could do was gape at their costly furs and envy them for the large diamonds and jewels they wore.

She knew her mother received meager wages, which were hardly enough for them to live on. Sometimes Meg wondered who her father was and why he left them. Her mother certainly never mentioned him, only that they grew up together. When he learned that she was pregnant, he left her.

Madame Giry never spoke his name, but Meg believed – or at least she wanted to – that he was actually a rich aristocrat who would one day come back for her and she would then be thrust into the same group of people she had long admired.

But he didn't.

Meg slowly learned to hate her father and everyone else in the upper crust of society. She all believed they were snobs and hated them for something they had no control over: to be born into a life of privilege. She hated Christine Daae the most, for being born into one of the most powerful families in Europe.

Everything Meg wanted, Christine had. Now she had the man Meg loved, and Christine didn't even appreciate him.

The moment Christine arrived in the opera house Meg knew they wouldn't get along. How could they? Every time she looked at Christine she saw the girl she wasn't.

Rich. Beautiful. Loved.

But Meg knew that if she married Raoul de Chagny, things would change. Oh yes, they would. The de Chagnys were not as powerful as the Daaes, but they were very influential. Armand de Chagny was a favorite of the king of England, and some said that he was more the king's advisor than a friend.

Imagine what her position would be like if she became Viscountess de Chagny. Everyone would fall over just to give her what she wanted. Plus she would be the wife of one of the most charming men in Europe.

Meg heard the door to her room open and she snapped out of her reverie. Her mother leaned against the door studying her.

"You seem happy," Madame Giry said. "Why the sudden change?"

"Nothing that concerns you, Mother," Meg replied, studying her face from every angle. She had on one of her fine dresses, which was saying something because she didn't have a very vast wardrobe. "I'll be back before dinner."

Madame Giry eyed her daughter suspiciously. She was humming, for goodness' sake. Meg never hummed, unless she was about to get something she wanted. Madame Giry had a sinking feeling that the reason why her daughter was so happy was because of Christine and Raoul's argument.

This did not bode well at all.

"Tell me about your childhood, Erik," Christine murmured, toying with one of Erik's fingers. The two of them were stretched out on Christine's bed: he had his back propped up with one of the pillows and she was leaning against his torso.

Since Raoul was out of the opera house – again – they felt secure. Just to be sure, however, Erik had locked the door as soon as he came in through the mirror passageway.

"What about it? I've told you everything." Erik placed one hand behind his head. "Unless you want me to repeat it for you."

"You haven't told me about your parents," Christine insisted. "The only thing you've told me about your life before the opera house is that you came from the circus."

"Well, I was born in a small village. I never knew my father, plus my mother was so busy with work that she hardly had enough time to care for me," Erik lied. "I had enough and ran away to join the circus. I never looked back after that."

Christine didn't believe him. She knew he was lying, but she felt him grow tense when she mentioned his parents. So she let it go; it must be a touchy subject for him to refuse her like that.

"Oh. So you're not curious to learn what happened to your mother?"

Erik shook his head. In truth he had returned to his home three years after Christine left. It wasn't far from Paris, and Erik hitchhiked on large wagons carrying food from the city whenever he felt tired. When he found his old home, he saw his mother.

She had a family. He saw her laughing and smiling as if she didn't previously sell her firstborn son for fifty francs. Beside her was her husband, a tall, good-looking fellow who probably had no idea his pretty wife had been violated.

And there before them, were their three beautiful children: two boys and one girl.

Erik had longed to approach them, but he knew that his mother would shun him again. So he returned to Paris, hatred in his heart. He never thought about Fabienne Landry or her perfect family ever again.

"Erik?"

Christine's soft voice cut through his thoughts and brought him back to the present. "What is it?"

"I'm sleepy." She yawned as if to prove her point, and then instead of turning on her side and using the other pillow, she snuggled closer to him, her head resting near his stomach and one arm flung across his waist.

Erik didn't know if he should wriggle a little or not – she looked so peaceful that he didn't have the heart to disturb her sleep any more.

So come morning, Erik's body felt sore all over. Still, he had had the pleasure of seeing Christine's different sleeping expressions. He learned that her snore was soft, very much like the low hissing of a snake. She also tended to sleep on her side with one arm flung around something soft – like his stomach – and she also murmured in her sleep.

As he heard the cock crow in the distance, Erik's eyes were threatening to close. He finally heard her stir, but he still didn't move. It was nearly an hour later when Christine finally awoke from her sleep.

The first thing she sought was his face. He quickly pretended to be asleep, which wasn't hard to do considering he was up most of the night. He heard her pull away from him and felt her shift her weight slightly.

"Oh Erik," she murmured sleepily, and he imagined that she was smiling. Suddenly he felt her hot breath near his lips and could smell traces of her perfume. Her lips pressed the bottom of his mask as she kissed him.

His eyes flew open and he looked at her.

"Oh!" she gasped, surprised. "Oh… good morning, Erik." Her cheeks turned red and she looked down.

"Good morning," he said huskily. "What, may I ask, were you doing?"

"N- nothing," she said lamely.

He raised his eyebrow. "You know you can tell me, Chrissy."

"Fine. I was kissing you. Happy?"

Author's Note: In case you didn't know, I've made a fan trailer from Erik's POV. It can be found on YouTube (where else? xD), by typing "Erik Fan Trailer". You can also check out my other videos by looking for fanficfan007 at YouTube. :)

To those who have been reading and leaving reviews/comments, thank you! You're the main reason why I keep this fanfic going. :) Rest assured I'll do my very best to make your constant patronage worthwhile. :D

In order to satisfy your curiosity as to what will happen in the next few chapters:

Erik and Christine share a secret. Raoul's jealousy grows, while Meg vows to find Christine's secret and destroy her rival's reputation. And of course, there's the Masque. :)

Grab your costumes and masks, dear readers! I, along with "Cherik", will take you deeper into the Opera Populaire. Merci!