Ray strode toward the Visiovatti house angrily. His eyes were focused only on the sidewalk and the door in front of him.

He reached the end of the very long brick pathway, which curved several times around the Visiovatti's large garden, and ended up on the cement porch.

Ray pushed the doorbell on the right side of the honey-colored door and began tapping his foot impatiently. Almost two minutes later he finally heard someone padding toward the door.

The person on the other side of the door, he could hear, was unlatching all the locks. When she finally turned the doorknob, Carla wore a surprised expression, and her mouth turned up into a seductive smile.

Ray told himself that he was not going to give in to her persuasive style, but there was something about this smile and the obvious pleasure and surprise on her face that made him reconsider,

"Ray, darling," She gushed in a high, girlish voice. "I'm so glad you're here. Mama and I were just talking about you. She was hoping to meet you, and now she can. Hold on one second." Carla said excitedly, shutting the door again.

Ray sighed and waited. Leave it to Carla to make the biggest production out of something as small as a person coming to the door. It surprised Ray that Carla had just shut the door in his face.

He sighed and tapped his feet loudly on the cement. He doubted they could hear him, but, he thought, it was worth a try anyway.

Through the frosted glass of the window, he could see the colors of the people standing right behind the door. Carla and her mother were obviously having a debate. He looked down at his watch.

He had to be at baseball practice in twenty minutes and he was not even dressed for it. His cleats were in the car, but those would have to wait until he arrived at the field.

Ray rapped on the door again. This stopped all the arguing, and finally they opened the door again.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but I have to be somewhere in about twenty minutes and I was wondering if I could have a word with Carla," He said quickly.

They looked startled that he had spoken, but Carla hastily exited the house and stood right next to Ray on the porch.

Ray could still see Mrs. Visiovatti standing there in the foyer, presumably listening to everything they were saying. Ray found himself wondering whether she was a strict disciplinarian.

There had to be some evidence that she was. After all, she was standing there watching them. If he touched her in the slightest, maybe Mrs. Visiovatti would lash out and send him away.

They started with a greeting, biding their time until she walked away. When she did, Carla thrust herself into Ray's arms, beginning with a passionate kiss.

He rolled his eyes in spite of himself. Here we go again. She's trying to get me to forget my resolve. Well, for once I'm not going to let her do that. She's already done enough to mess up my life.

"I've missed you so much, darling. It has been so lonely without you around to help me with my plans. I like having a partner in crime. Things are much easier when you can blame someone else for something you did." She laughed.

He frowned. The latter part of her little speech confirmed his suspicions. She had used him. She had used him to get something that she wanted, all the while leaving him out of the equation by trying to bribe him with kisses and false affection.

How dare she?

He broke away from her iron grip, pushing her out of his arms.

"So that's how it is, then? If you were to get caught it would be all my fault?" He demanded. His anger was coming so easily… much more easily than he had anticipated. He thought that she would try much harder to discourage him. Somehow she knew this was going to come her way in due time.

"O-of course not, Ray." First she looked scared, but a plan popped into her head– he knew the look. She smiled triumphantly.

"You know I didn't mean that, exactly–"

"What did you mean, then? Christine ripped your costume so you couldn't be the lead actress while she was the pageboy. You tried to get me to manipulate Erik so he would leave Christine. You thought she would be so depressed about the disappearance of her lover that she would simply give up the part to you. None of your plans were successful, Carla. Not one. "

Carla was looking around nervously, obviously wracking her brain for a plan– a way out. She could not find one. Hysteria began to fill her brain.

"Don't bother denying it. I'm not as stupid as you take me for," He said forcefully.

He paused for a moment, watching Carla's bewildered face get even more panicked as the minutes passed.

"Oh, by the way, I want to know something." He mused.

"Y-yeah? Ask me anything." She said, trying to regain her composure.

He smiled meanly. It was not a kind, forgiving smile– it was a smile of revenge. He felt powerful, and for once, he was the one with the plan meant to work. He'd waited for this ever since he understood what exactly her plans entailed.

"What was in it for me?" He asked.

"Me. I knew you were after Christine and I wanted to discourage you from that relationship. I was jealous. You were perfect." Carla said, looking down.

"Hmm…" He mocked, "So you thought by confusing me and trying to seduce me you would get your way? Well, I have news for you: it worked, Carla. I thought that it was going to be a simple one-time thing. Oh, I was wrong. Shit! How could I have been so stupid?"

He'd said one of those words much louder than he probably should have, causing her mother to come back to the front door to supervise.

"Look, I've got to go. Just don't try to count on me anymore, because I'm not going to blindly do your bidding anymore. Bye Carla."

He rushed toward his car. Ray then checked his watch, noticing that he was leaving at least ten minutes later than he should have left, which meant he wasn't going to get to practice on time. Well, there was at least one good part of this experience: he wouldn't have to deal with Carla Visiovatti anymore.

Later that afternoon halfway across town, no acts of revenge were taking place. Instead, Erik was trying to make up for things that he probably should not have done in the past.

"It still isn't sounding right," Erik complained, teeth gritted, in front of the computer. Christine was patiently sitting on the edge of his bed. Erik had returned Christine home the night before, promising to call her the next morning to make some plans.

He had not told her exactly what he was planning on doing, but Christine didn't much care. She simply wanted to be around Erik as much as she could, however small the amount of time they had together.

"Read it to me," Christine suggested. They had been sitting here for an hour. Christine tried to be patient when Erik got angry, as he often did when his words didn't seem quite right in context.

"All right," Erik agreed reluctantly. "To Whom It May Concern." He stopped and lifted his eyes to Christine's face. Even when she was confused, somehow her features were perfectly arranged.

She raised her eyebrows. "And…" Christine prompted, waving her hands in the air, signaling for him to continue. When he didn't, she blushed. "You're making me self-conscious!"

He got up out of the chair and kissed her forehead, then her lips.

When he went back to the chair she shook her head. "You are spoiling me, Erik. Now I'm going to expect this all the time."

"So be it." He said with a smirky grin.

She rolled her eyes. "Continue please."

He sighed gustily. "If you insist." Erik cleared his throat and began again.

"To Whom It May Concern,

Congratulations to you on a wonderful performance of my opera. I appreciated your adherence to my instructions, for it made all operations go smoothly and without incident.

However, I also wish to apologize for my secrecy and also for my demands in these matters, as well. I had hoped not to require so much of my superiors, by I did not know whether my efforts would pay off by being passive."

He looked up again. Christine considered this. "Hmm… It seems like you need more. Maybe you need to tattle tale a bit too." She suggested.

He frowned and studied the computer. "What do you mean by tattle tale? Whom am I telling on?"

"Carla and Ray. They tried to destroy us and the play, remember?"

"That's interesting. I don't want to sound like a suck up in search of a reward, here, Christine."

"Well, you don't have to use it, then," She said, no hint of anger or disappointment in her voice. "It's your letter. You can decide what you want in it."

He nodded.

For a half an hour Erik was very quiet. The only sounds in the room were of the whirring of the computer, their breathing, and his fingers clacking on the keyboard.

Christine lowered herself down on his bed so her back was touching the sheets. From there she relaxed, staring at the ceiling. So this is what he sees every night when he goes go sleep, she mused. There were a few glow-in-the-dark stars and moons stuck to the ceiling. At night, she guessed, the lit up the ceiling with their greenish glow.

She smiled. In this simple act of observation she had seen a little ways into Erik's every day life.

"I like the stars on the ceiling," She commented. He looked at her lying on the bed, and he couldn't help but lift his eyes to the stars.

"Yep. I was eight years old when I had those plastered to the ceiling. I was obsessed with astronomy, for some reason." He admitted.

"It is interesting how all the stars come together to make constellations, or how they just hang there in the sky." She mused quietly.

"Yeah." He agreed.

Erik clicked a button on the computer and the printer buzzed and a white piece of paper slid into the tray. The words on the page began to appear very slowly.

He saved his work, got up and came to join her on the bed. She scooted over in order for him to have room enough to lay there with her.

Erik clutched her hand and held it up, their elbows touching on the bed. For a minute or more the both of them were silent. They stared at the ceiling, thinking about the ways their lives had changed in the last several months.

"What are you thinking about?" Erik whispered, finally breaking the silence.

Christine smiled. "I started here in the fall knowing only your sister and in the last few months I've made enemies as well as friends. And of course, I was thinking about you."

Erik considered this. "Whereas I was a lonely, miserable, pathetic boy looking for sympathy."

She frowned. "That's not true. Remember the Phantom? Christine Daae told him: 'His haunted face holds no horror anymore. It's in your soul that the true distortion lies.' Don't you think that you can see yourself one way and others can see it completely different?"

She rolled over so that her back was to the window, and propped herself on her elbow.

He looked at her. "You seem awfully sure of that."

"Yes. That would because I believe that your attitude toward yourself is poor. I can tell you anything I want that I believe, but it's your choice to think that. Erik, I love you, but really, you're going to have to have some pride."

She touched his face. He closed his eyes. "I'll think about it."

"Good," She said.

Opening his eyes, he said, "Hey, do you want to go do something out of the house? I'm getting a little hungry."

Christine smiled. "Yeah. I think we owe it to each other. It'll be our first date since the fight. That's got a nice ring to it, don't you think?"

He lifted her right wrist and kissed it. "So be it"

She smiled and sat up. "Your wish is my command, Monsieur Opera Ghost."