Some days after Coppelia debuted the opera began it's two show performance days. Meg now performed Coppelia, then an hour later Romeo et Juliette was to be played. Thankfully Romeo et Juliette is to close soon, but Cosi Fan Tutte is set to open just days after Romeo et Juliette closes. Today was the day Meg had to do both. She had class, rehearsals, and two shows. Meg made a sign of the cross, she wasn't a religious girl but she felt like the motion itself would give her strength.

Meg had told Erik to meet her in his home later. She was tired but she need some relaxation, she had that with him. She ran from her spot at bows to her dressing room and cleaned off her makeup quickly. Changing to her Stephano underclothes she rested on the couch in her dressing gown until her and Christine were called to warm up. She felt good until right before curtain. In their dressing room, a dresser came in with a paper. A paper containing a review of Coppelia's debut.

"Go on, read it!" Meg was excited to hear what people thought. "She fixed her face and untied her hair from Coppelia. As the girl read, she said wonderful things.

"The Opera Populaire debuted yet another an outstanding production of Coppelia on the evening of September 11, 1880. La Sorelli enchanting as always, the corps beautiful and energetic. The story of Coppelia is compelling to the public because of the, out of the ordinary for ballet, human characters. The wonderful way Swanhilda and Franz were cast and played made up for the-" The girl stopped and Meg's eyes snapped to the meet the girls scared eyes in the mirror.

"Why did you stop?" Everyone in the room stared with wonder or fright. Madame Giry took the paper and continued reading.

"The wonderful way Swanhilda and Franz were cast and played made up for the-" she stopped as well.

"Maman?" Meg said in desperation.

"Dreadful doll." She looked at her daughter with so much sympathy for the blondes sorrows. Meg stared forward with shocked and sad eyes.

"Please go on." Meg never received a review in the papers for her ballets. Everything came from her mother, La Sorelli, and her peers. Not some stranger she never knew.

"The performance of the doctors great creation, done by Marguerite Giry, made the doll made so human like, look like real wood. That is clearly not the objective of Coppelia, the doll is supposed to be human-like. You thought she was a doll, then it was confirmed in her jerking movements. I have seen many good roles of hers, The performance was out of character and disappointing for the story. Her solo was wonderful, truly a shame the rest of her performance didn't shine the same." Madame Giry finished as Christine was called to the stage. Meg stood to walk with Christine to the wings. Madame Giry grabbed her arm.

"Meg? Are you alright." Meg was tired and she had enough.

"Maman! I am fine. One bad review isn't going to make me jump off the roof! Let's do this. I'm tired and I want to sing."

"Alright."

"And leave that newspaper on my dressing table." Meg was angry, of course she was angry, and tired, and all she wanted to do is hear his voice. She put all of her emotions into Stephano, her performance was undeniably fantastic. A fire burned in her, soon to be snuffed out. After the show Madame Giry didn't want to leave Meg, Christine already left and Meg waited for her mother to leave before making her way down to his parlor.

"Mother please! I am fine! All I want is to be alone. Goodnight Maman." She kissed her mother's cheek and sat with her head on her arms on her dressing table. He mother placed a hand on her shoulder and left the room with a quiet goodnight. When she was finally left alone she looked at herself in the mirror, Tears right on the edge. She read the review a few times and her tired mind began to fear that this is what her peers thought of her too.

Finally she barreled through the mirror with her bag and the paper. Somehow no tears feel just yet. He waited for her just like she asked the night before When she opened the door and walked down the long hallway, she stopped when he stood up next to the love-seat facing her. They were many feet apart and they stood staring at each other. Visible tears burned his heart and blurred her vision. Her chest heaved and her breathing was hard and jerking.

"What's the matter?" His voice melted her sorrow only slightly but it was a sweet bliss. Her head raised in with her breathing, she couldn't see him through her tears. He still hadn't moved. She stepped toward him.

"They hate me."

"Who." stream of tears came quickly down her cheek.

"Everyone." She breathed the word out like it was the key to all the sorrow of the universe. She dropped her bag and took another step, then stuck the paper out for him. He didn't get to read it as she finally released her sorrow. Her face was facing the ceiling and her eyes were closed but continuously streaming. Her chest heaved and arms were by her side. She was so open to him at this moment, she tried to step forward once more but she tripped on the edge of the large Persian rug.

She fell with her eyes still closed, she didn't care what happened. He caught her on her way down. Her hands now gripped his lapels as she looked to the right side past his body. She couldn't calm herself. She could die then in his arms and she wouldn't care. He had one hand wrapped in her hair at the base of her neck and the other around her waist.

"This damned writer said my doll was too doll-like, Marine in the corps wants Prima ballerina and she thinks she can get it if it weren't for me. The rest well I don't know but they will when they find out. They've got to, Christine says she loves me but when she learns, she learns of my betrayal. I haven't told her, that's what's going to kill her, that I haven't told her. Maman, will despise me when she learns of how I lie to her. Her and Christine. So many, 'I am going to bed now.'s. So many 'I am too tired to dine.'s. Too many, too many lies. AND you!." She sobbed and laid her head on his heart the same way she did some days ago, just inches over her hands. "You probably hate me."

"Hush!"

"It's true, I keep you hidden from everyone. I know, I'm terrified to be yelled at. You offer me companionship and I hurt you by denying anyone the knowledge of it. I come and invade your home, I sit on your throne like it's mine."

"It is yours."

"I come and hang on you and and cry into your clothes." Her body ached at her tears. "I am a selfish, wretched creature… I-I.. I deserve… Nothing." She sounded utterly defeated. He held her close, he was now in charge of a breakdown like he knew Christine and Madame Giry did. They would sit with her and she would cry and cry. Her little body shivered and shook against him. He shifted to sit back against the love-seat and let her drape her body on his. The position became intimate as she was now between his long legs. She paid no mind so neither did he.

After a while she grew silent and she finally heard his words.

"I have never hated you. As long as I have brought you to my home I have never hated you. I do not hate you now." This thought of hers pained him deeply. She was so sorrowful. The pain in her heart spread through her body, every muscle felt sore, and her chest burned with the despairing feeling of emptiness. She was dramatic, and her heart was ready to wither away. She knew that when their bodies would separate the feeling would swell even larger. She refused to look at him, to let go of him, she just wouldn't. He took the hand off her waist and the feeling of dread already flooded the area.

Erik covered her right hand with his left. He pried her hand from his lapel, and just held it under her chin for a minute. Tears fell on his hand. Her left ear was just by his heart too much to her right. The thing that dismayed her about his is that his heart never quickened at her body against hers. She still heaved her chest every once in awhile and silent tears slipped from her eyes. After she grew this quiet he pulled her hand up to kiss. His action pierced her heart, she buried her face into his chest. He kissed starting at the bottom of her palm and made his way up to the tips of her fingers, with every kiss she grew even more exhausted. After many kisses to her soft skin she was asleep.

He sat with her for a while, just holding her. He wanted to make sure she was sound, then he shifted her to carry her bridal style all the way to her own bed. Even in this sleep she seemed distressed. Like a sylph who isn't winning a suitor, greater than human, but so very human just the same. He picked up her bag and found her key before he did so. Once again He was carrying her, again not in the way she wanted. Carrying her away from his home left a pit in his chest as well. She belonged with him, to him.

He laid her in bed and knelt at her sleeping form. She was red from crying. He hoped very much that she would continue to sleep soundly. She didn't know it, but he kissed her forehead. If she had know, who knows what she would have done. He left her alone. This night made her yearning grow tenfold, she didn't know it was possible to want something so much. She would become his wife, or she would eventually die of a broken heart. He left pining for a sign, anything to tell him "She would stay if you asked, if you offered her something wonderful." Little did he know that all she required was his complete adoration, and little did she know that she already owned it.