Once the hour had passed, I went downstairs to change disks when I saw something that took me completely by surprise. Erik was laying on the bed in fetal position facing the wall, his mask beside him. As I approached him, I could hear him sobbing. "Hey Erik," I said in that somewhat high-pitched voice people use when trying to console someone. I picked his mask and handed it to him. "What's wrong?"

He reached his arm out and snatched his mask right out of my hand. He put it on before he sat up, clenching his fists. "Oh how I wish I could relive that night on Apollo's Lyre," he said. "There are so many things I regret not doing. I should've killed that spoiled little rich boy right then and there. Oh the joys of feeling him squeal in my grasp. And once he'd stop breathing, I would throw his dead body off the roof! And Christine, my dear Christine, I could just see the look on her face now, looking dazed and frightened. I would take her back to my home under the opera house, where she would never see the light of day again! To hell with her happiness, she would be all mine forever!"

I stood there in stunned silence. I had almost forgotten whom I was dealing with here. "Yes, well," I said awkwardly. "You know what they say, there's no use crying over spilled milk. The past is the past, there's nothing you can do about it. Besides, they're both dead."

"Yes, but they lived happily ever after together. He won."

"But you could've won if you kept Christine and let him die in your torture chamber."

"Don't remind me! I had them right where I wanted them. But I let her go because I loved her and for one moment, I put her happiness before mine."

"Whatever you say." I switched the disks and went back upstairs.

I returned forty-five minutes later to catch the final notes of Music of the Night when I found Erik in the same spot as before. "Oh Christine!" he cried, "I still love you! Please come back to me! It was foolish of me to ever let you go! But I did it because I love you!" One less thing for me to worry about, I thought. He still loves Christine and not me, which is good. As I clicked eject on the computer, Erik quickly put his mask on and sat up, turning towards me. "Julia! I didn't hear you come in!"

"Yeah, I'm kinda ninja like that," I said sarcastically. "So what did you think?" I asked putting the disk back in the box.

"That was absolutely beautiful. At first I was rather confused by Michael Crawford's voice; as soon as he began to sing, I was somewhat insulted since I sound nothing like that, but it somehow began to grow on me. As for Sarah Brightman, a beautiful voice indeed. Nothing of course like the real Christine, but she did her justice. Certain events were out of order which threw me off a bit, but otherwise it wasn't too bad."

"Good, I'm glad you liked it."

"Now can we watch the movie?"

"Alright. But first there's one more thing we must do." We returned to the family room and once again I set up the DVD player. "Before we watch the movie, I think it's important that you see this." I showed him the documentary that came with the movie talking about the evolution of the musical.

"Why do I only have half a mask? And why is it white?"

"They'll explain later on."

During the documentary bits of the show were shown. "This man doesn't sound like Michael Crawford."

"It's not. It's John Owen Jones."

When they finally did show clips of Sarah Brightman and Michael Crawford, he marveled, "Oh, so that's what they look like. She looks nothing like Christine! Similar hair, but even then she was blond! And he's ashamed of having half a face, what I wouldn't give to have at least half a face! How do they find so many guys with only half a face?"

"They don't. They use makeup."

"Oh," he said sounding kind of disappointed.

After the documentary was over, he asked if we could finally watch the movie. "Yes!" I answered. "Brace yourself," I said before as I pressed the play button.

As soon as Raoul appeared onscreen, Erik laughed. "And I didn't think it was possible to make the vicomte any more foppish. At least this Christine is prettier than Miss Brightman."

"Just wait till you hear her sing."

As soon as the notes of Think of Me began to play, Emmy Rossum opened her mouth to sing. "She's good, but not enough to portray my dear Christine."

"Guess what, this movie goes on for another two hours! But hey, you really wanted to watch it."

"Yes I did," he said under his breath, about to regret the next two hours.

Whenever Emmy Rossum would reach a high note, Erik grimaced. "If you think Christine is bad, wait till you hear who plays you."

Ten minutes later, Gerard Butler's voice burst from the speakers. "Oh come on!" Erik shouted. "He was barely singing that so much as practically shouting it! Whose brilliant idea was it to cast these talentless people?"

"The man who destroyed the Batman series." I knew he wouldn't get it, besides I knew his question was rhetorical. He was too busy being tortured by what was going on onscreen to notice.

As soon as the good side of Gerry's face appeared onscreen, Erik lost it. "Look at that man! With a face like that, he could have any woman he wants! Hell he's even more handsome than the fop! The other side better look worse than mine!"

When it was time for the rooftop scene, I picked up the remote. "Do you want me to skip over this scene?" I asked, hoping to avoid another cryfest from Erik.

"Yes please." I skipped over All I Ask of You and the reprise.

Later on when the graveyard appeared onscreen, I picked up the remote again. "I'm skipping this. You're not missing anything, she's just walking around. Besides, it's three less minutes of hearing her sing."

Soon it was time for the big reveal. "Christine, that's all I ask of…" Emmy ripped off Gerry's mask and his face was exposed. Everyone screamed and gasped in fear. "WHAT?" Erik shouted standing up. "That's nothing! How dare they! I don't even want to watch anymore!" He stormed out of the room. I turned off the movie and followed him back to the study. "God, could they screw up my image any more?" he shouted, throwing his arms in the air sitting on the bed, burying his head in his hands.

"Yes actually."

He lifted his head. "You're not serious."

"There's a sequel."

"A sequel!" I nodded. "What happens in this sequel?"

"You run away to New York with the Girys and you start your own carnival on Coney Island. Ten years later you invite Christine to come sing at your carnival. She's married to Raoul, of course, and she has a son. But guess what? The son isn't really Raoul's, he's yours! It turns out that on the night before Christine's wedding, she returned to you and you guys did it, and the next morning, you left her alone to go run off to New York and got her pregnant. Christine has to choose between you and Raoul again, and this time she chooses you. But before you guys live happily ever after, Meg kills her out of jealousy because for the past ten years she's been trying to get your attention. The kid decides he wants to be with you, and you live happily ever after as a father. Oh, and did I mention that Raoul is now an abusive, stinking drunk and a gambler, because he is."

"Just as I thought they couldn't mess me up any more. Do you own this sequel?"

"I have a few songs on my computer, but that's it."

"Show me." I ran upstairs, grabbed my phone, and ran back to him, playing him Beneath a Moonless Sky. "This doesn't sound like Sarah Brightman. Or that other girl, thank God. She actually sounds better than both of them."

"This is Sierra Boggess. She played Christine in this."

"And this isn't Michael Crawford or that pretty boy."

"This is Ramin Karimloo."

"He also has a very nice voice, though very different than what I'm used to." He grabbed the phone and looked at the image of the CD cover. "'Love Never Dies.' Really? What kind of title is Love Never Dies?"

"A cheesy and cliché title."

"At least the music here is very nice," he admitted.

"Yeah, but listen to the lyrics."

He did. "They aren't too bad. Are they supposed to be?"

"Yes. They're singing about having sex."

"Oh dear lord!" he exclaimed in shock, handing the phone back to me. "As much as I love Christine, I would never deflower her in such a way!"

"Exactly!"

"Turn it off please! I need to get such images out of my head! Who is responsible for this?"

"Andrew Lloyd Webber?"

"Where does that bastard live? I'm going to go kill him for ruining me in such an atrocious way!"

"He lives in England."

His rage died down. "Oh."

"Yeah." There was an awkward silence. "Well I'm going upstairs. Have fun getting all these horrible images and voices out of your head." I was about to leave when I turned around. "Oh Erik, one more thing."

"Yes?"

"And I touched you, and I felt you…" I sang mockingly before leaving him alone.