ATTENTION HERE! I've sent PM's to a lot of people, but I know that for a fact I haven't contacted everyone. But, I recently created a face book page for my stories. You can join it if you want, and I wish that I could give the link, but fan fiction blocks links. So, if you decide that you DO want to check out the page, just type in "Drowning Series". Make sure that it's under "book series". Also, the main picture for it is also the Cheshire Cat, just like my avatar here on fanfic.

ANYWAYS, thank you for those who have been reviewing! Erik is giving hugs to 9 special reviewers! And you can also find a picture on my face book page of a cartoon Erik with open arms. . .I imagine that's what he looks like when he's giving hugs. Check it out; it's adorable!

I do not own the Phantom of the Opera. Only my OC's.

Enjoy!

My head snapped to the direction of the familiar voice. It seemed as though it had been ages since I had heard that voice.

"Antoinette?"

"Bonjour, monsieur." She greeted, resting both of her hands on her cane. She hadn't changed much since I had last seen her. She was still clothed in her dark attire, making her skin appear pale; perhaps just as pale as me. Her dark hair had been braided, and wrapped into a tight bun. The only difference, was the small contented smile that was settled on her lips. "It's been so long since we've heard from you."

"I've had matters to attend." I immediately regretted that answer. I wanted to cringe after the words left my mouth, although I kept my indifferent facade. The ballet mistress didn't appear to see through my emotional mask, but she did seem rather curious for an explanation, of course.

"Attend?" She echoed, taken aback. "I didn't realize you ever left the catacombs."

"Being the Opera Ghost, don't you think that would have been my intention?" I questioned, raising an eyebrow at her. Instead of smirking from my rather dry, teasing remark, her dark eyes were only seeking for answers.

"Please," She said, raising her chin a little, looking down her nose at me. "I think we both know exactly what I'm proposing." She gazed down at me from where I was seated; acting as though she was still in the ballet instructor mind set. The straight expression that was plastered on her face was one that forced all of the ballet rats to immediately become obedient; especially with a loud tap of her cane on the ground.

I almost wanted to smirk. It was rather amusing to me because I had known her for so long, but it was certainly not humorous to any of the ballerinas. But of course, it would be humorous to the Phantom. Although Antoinette's expression didn't intimidate me at all, it was her curiosity in my disappearance that made me uncomfortable. Damn her for being so nosey! Why must she corner me so? I could see where her daughter got her personality; well, her nosey trait, anyways.

Instead of evading from her demand, I decided to treat her with honesty; even if it was blunt. . .Well, at least voice what was on my mind at that very moment. Even if it wasn't all the facts. It wasn't lying, though.

"My matters should not concern you, Antoinette." She raised a dark eyebrow, looking unsatisfied by my answer. The woman had no reason to pick at me for answers, though. She could do that all she wanted to little Giry, but not me. I didn't feel like getting into detail about the last four months. It was too much to explain. I honestly didn't know if she would even believe me about Clare. I didn't plan on testing it. . .Not yet, at least. I still had things to think over, and I couldn't have Antoinette getting in the way of things.

Yes, she had helped me greatly before in the past; I would never know how to repay her for saving me from those damned gypsies. But we were both so different now. I still had great respect for her, but sometimes she made me feel as though I were a child of hers. . .A disobedient child, anyways. One that was always caught in the act by her. I often felt as though she was trying to discipline me. It never did work, though. She would attempt to get me to listen to her, only to retreat from that scenario once I dryly refused. Just because she was slightly older than me, didn't mean that she was in charge of everything. I think she knew that she fell far from being in charge as well. She secretly knew that she couldn't boss me around. Never had she dared giving me an order; nor had she ever threatened me, but she still attempted to pester me for answers. And I either answered her questions, or merely rejected them.

Somewhere in within the walls of our friendship, she knew of dark corners not to wander too closely to. Though sometimes I swore that she was tiptoeing closer, testing the waters, though would back away when she realized that it wasn't smart. We had practically grown up together, so she knew where the boundaries were. She knew how to irritate me easily, and sometimes I wondered if she did that on purpose just to get a rise out of me. It was a rather childish trait she secretly had. Something she rarely ever used. But of course, being a ballet instructor, and a mother, she learned how to be very stern. Sometimes I wondered if her experience in watching me frighten the managers had rubbed off on her. But of course, if there was anyone she couldn't frighten, it was me. . .She could only, at most, enrage me; and that was quite rare. I was mainly only irritated that she always tried to mold me into a different person.

Oh, like how you tried to mold Christine into listening to you? My mind shot back. You're not much different. The only difference was that your molding process was far more extreme. You have manipulated Christine's life by nearly deteriorating her will of choice. She will never be entirely the same, and you know it. That timid child will never be able to make a choice without asking for assistance - without needing someone's approval.

I wanted to cringe from that, or shake the thought away. But the guilt would always remain. At least I had straightened things out between us. I could have merely neglected her forever without saying a word of why, but that wouldn't have been right. I knew that saying farewell was the best way to sort out such a problem. She wouldn't have to spend the rest of her life wondering why I disappeared.

I realized that my eyes had blindly been wandering around the empty stage, and unoccupied seats. I rested my cheek against the palm of my hand, supporting my elbow on the armrest of my chair. "You're fretting over nothing." Which was true. Her usual concerns weren't at stake. I wasn't planning on making anyone disappear. If anyone, I would only want that dreadful doppelganger to disappear. Or anyone who attempted to harm Clare.

Antoinette still didn't look fully convinced. "Don't be so skeptical, Antoinette, when you know very well that I'm not one to be social. I was once a recluse for six years. Don't you remember?"

"Yes, I do recall that." She admitted. "I thought you were dead."

"So remind me how this is out of the ordinary?" I retorted. Now I was just being rude to her. Perhaps I was being rather harsh, but I was weary of her suspicion. Although I knew that if I were in her shoes, I wouldn't be as trusting either. At this point, I wasn't sure whether I was more irritated at her, or myself for my history of mischief.

She pressed her lips into a straight line, not saying anything. She looked vexed. I almost felt regretful of my snippy responses.

"I can assure you that I was up to no harm during my absence." I said with all earnest. She stared at me with dark eyes burrowing into mine, never flinching away for a while. I didn't look away, trying to prove my honesty beneath her leery gaze. After what seemed like an eternity, she averted her eyes to the sea of velvet chairs. A feeling of relief settled upon me when I recognized that she believed me. The vexed look in her eyes had subsided to a rather fatigued aspect. Perhaps she had had a long day.

She sighed. "I was just curious. Only because a few have been rather. . .Frightened, as of recently." She worded carefully. If she had brought this up four months ago, I would have scoffed, although I honestly wasn't sure why there would be frightened people here since I hadn't done anything bad in so long.

"How do you think I run this opera house?" I asked, raising my visible eyebrow. "I'm not infirm with my decisions around here. And unlike the unskilled managers, I'm not a dunce. . .Which reminds me, I shall be delivering letters again, soon."

"But the Opera Garnier has been doing very well so far; even during your absence." She said in a rather carefree matter, ignoring my last remark about sending letters. I felt as though I had been slapped by her response, and there was a small, knowing smile on her lips that felt mocking. I nearly scowled at her.

"Well the Opera House will be exceptionally magnificent once I'm in charge again." I snapped, narrowing my eyes. At this, her smile widened as though she were amused by my answer, or perhaps my expression. Was she trying to have fun? She lightly rolled her eyes in a playful manner, while I leaned back into my seat, clenching my jaw. She truly did know how to get under my skin. . .Was this how obnoxious siblings acted towards one another? It had been quite a while since I had actually gotten mad. Was Clare the remedy to my stress? Instead of bitterly looking at Antoinette, I focused my glare on the center of the stage, waiting for my anger to subside.

She sighed, her amusement dwindling. "Well, the Vicomte has been very suspicious as of recently." I had to suppress a groan of irritation. What else must I expect? I had enough things to deal with already. "That was actually, part of the reason why I wanted to speak with you."

"What more must you know?" I sighed tiredly, burying my face against the palm of my gloved hand. I did it carefully, making sure that my mask wouldn't become slanted on my face.

"Why were you with the redheaded girl?"

How long has there been an option to put this line here to separate my chapter from my author's note?! I've been using ". . ." for too long.

ANYWAYS Madame Giry knows of Clare?! Dun dun duuuuuuun! More questions for Erik to answer; that is, if he WILL answer, anyways. What do you guys think is going to happen? Share what you think through reviews! And don't forget to check out the face book page (if you want, anyways)!

It's kinda nice to write about Erik being out and about the Opera House. . .Because I never write that. xD And even though I imagine a lot of the POTO characters to look like the 2004 cast, I kept imagining Madame Giry as the Maria Mercedes version that you can find in Love Never Dies. Ugh, I'm personally not a "phan" of LND (it's alright if you are), but I kept imagining Madame Giry to look like that version for some reason. Or the 25th anniversary version. She seems more stern in either of those two, than the 2004 movie. And I think ballet instructors are probably naturally intimidating, and sorta need that serious quality in order to make the ballerinas listen to them. xD

Well, I hope you guys liked it! Thanks for reading!