First off, I aploligise for not posting in such a while. Things have been a bit confising lately. But I have one more exam to go now, and the next several chapters planned/written loosely, so as long as everything's running smoothly things will be up quicker than they have been!

Thanks again to all of my reviewers!

My curiosity got the better of me, and Erik's words ran through my head during the night. I desperately wanted to see his concert hall, images in my mind showing a spacious room just as exquisite as the opera house where I'd first performed.

Gustave was already dressed and at the small table between the kitchen and the dining room when I woke the next morning. I gave him a small, apologetic smile in regards to my tone the night previously and kissed the top of his head, smoothing his dark hair back.

The first words out of his mouth had me halting in my steps to the kitchen. "How do you know Mister Y, mother?"

"Gustave," I said in what was almost a whisper. "You mustn't speak of Mister Y around your father, do you understand?"

"No," his face was generally confused.

I sighed. "Listen to me, darling; your father and Mister Y...do not get along. And you know how your father gets at times...it would just be easier to have him believing what he wishes for as long as we can manage."

"You want us to keep secrets from father?"

"It's not really a secret, Gustave, it is...giving him piece of mind. Let him just enjoy his holiday, yes? I'm sure he'll find out when the time comes."

"But surely they aren't still angry at each other! You said you hadn't seen Mister Y for years."

"I doubt either of them will ever be able to accept the other." I knelt down by his side and took one of his hands in my own, rubbing my thumb against it in a comforting way. "Please, just abide by me with this, Gustave. It will make things a whole lot easier on all three of us."

"Yes, mother." his eyes were wide with curiosity, but he would not ask what had happened, all of those years ago. He was smart enough to know when to stop. "But you didn't answer my question."

I made my way back to the kitchen, filling the kettle with water and placing it over the stove. "And what question was that, Gustave?"

"How do you know Mister Y?"

I gave him a long, silent look as I set my tea cup on the counter, eventually sighing and lowering my eyes. "He was my teacher. He taught me how to sing."

"He's the one who thought you were something special."

I laughed, amused by his perfect memory. "Yes, that is him."

Gustave was more than happy to accompany me to the concert hall. Raoul could have been more gracious, but it was clear he was only in a sour mood from his drinking the night before. Still, he cleaned himself up to look like the dashingly handsome Vicomte I'd told myself I had fallen in love with, and we began making our way across the park to where the staff of the hotel said we would find the hall.

Every so often, Gustave would become overly excited with something strange or wonderful that had found a home in the park, and each time Raoul would sigh and rub his eyes as my son grabbed my hand and pulled me toward it.

"Must we keep stopping?" he asked bitterly as Gustave laughed at a performing magician.

"Yes, Gustave, perhaps we should wait until later to have a better look around. When we have more time," I added before he could protest. I felt terrible; this was supposed to be the week we spent celebrating his past birthday, and instead we were doing what I wanted.

"But you promise to join me on the ferris wheel later?"

"Of course." I grinned and tapped his nose before taking his hand again.

My mouth fell open as we neared the concert hall. It wasn't overly large, as it was private to Phantasma, but its exterior seemed even more exquisite than the Opera Populaire. Gustave studied every carving, statue and rose bush as we made our way to the entrance, his hands reaching out to touch anything within his reach. Raoul seemed to be the only person unmoved by such a glorious building.

The interior was even more spectacular. The roof was painted in the most charming deep violet colour, looking precisely like the sky at dusk. Small points which looked as though they were glowing burst from random positions. For a moment, I had to remind myself we were actually indoors. The stage was wide and beautifully designed, and thick, blood red curtains were held back and draped over the edges. There were more seats for an audience than I had been expecting, and somehow the building as a whole seemed almost twice as large from the inside. What caught my attention most of all, however, was the large, extravagantly designed crystal chandelier hanging in the center of the ceiling.

"It's beautiful," Gustave mused, his head lifted as he turned around to admire the misleading ceiling.

"Quite surprising, really, that this Mister Y can spend such an unnecessary amount of time on perfecting such a grand concert hall, yet he cannot even meet the husband of his client for a quick drink." Raoul muttered, looking around himself with an unimpressed expression.

I was distracted from replying, however, watching rehearsals for a quick vaudeville piece performed by a group of men and women wearing very fashionable, and mildly inappropriate, bathing suits.

I made my way to the stage, with intentions to speak to the pianist once they had finished their rehearsal, my sheet music tucked safely under my arm.

I did not have to wait long; almost as soon as I arrived at the edge of the stage the group disassembled and began practicing their own sections separately. The pianist seemed only too happy to speak with me, telling me how excited he was to be able to hear my performance himself. I smiled welcomingly and began to inquire about exactly how my rehearsals would be taking place. He seemed to have spoken to Erik about this previously. We were halfway through a sentence when a loud voice interrupted.

"Heaven help me, could it be?!"

I lifted my head to see a small blonde girl - the object of the performance previously being practiced - watching me closely. Her hair was a straw-blonde and pinned up modernly on her head, her eyes heavy with makeup only acceptable during bold performances.

"Oh my goodness!" she said gleefully, bringing her clasped hands to her mouth, as if in disbelief. I was beginning to get uncomfortable. Usually people didn't act in such a familiar way toward me.

"Sorry, do I -?"

"Yes, I think you do," she laughed, walking toward me. The pianist seemed to accept my attention was elsewhere and gave me one more polite look before leaving to attend to business elsewhere.

"Have we...?"

Her arms opened invitingly. "Go on and take a guess!"

The excited tone in her voice had me hesitating, and I looked her up and down properly for the first time. The thick blonde curls, wide blue eyes which had been disguised under paint and mischievous grin struck me all at once, and I gasped, moving forward myself, hardly able to believe who I was seeing.

"It can't be! Oh my goodness, I cannot believe it!" we grasped hands at the same time, wide smiles present on both of our faces. The more I gazed at the woman in front of me, the more foolish I felt. Meg Giry had changed somewhat dramatically during the last decade, but who was I not to remember my previous best friend? Her figure was still that strong, yet slender form of a dancing girl, her hair was shorter, but billowed out behind her as it always had, and though she was wearing extremely tall performing boots, she was quite a few inches shorter than myself. She looked older, of course. No one would dare call her a girl any more. It was shocking, not seeing the innocent glint in her eyes that had been so present the last time I'd met with her. The thing that surprised me most about her appearance was what she was wearing. The Meg I knew would have blushed furiously and waited for her mother to pass such a thing off as unacceptable before ever donning such an outfit.

"Oh, Christine, you look so beautiful!"

"And you, as well, Meg! After all of this time -"

"I can't believe you're actually here -"

"What of your career?"

"Everything's absolutely wonderful! What brings you here? You've come to see the sights?"

"And sing," I said blissfully. At the sight of her wide grin falling and her hands becoming slack in my own, I held back some of my youthful energy. "And of course as a treat for my son, Gustave."

Before we could say anything else, the group of dancing girls I'd been watching before crowded around me, and I smiled politely and did my best to answer all of their questions, catching sight of Meg standing dejectedly against the sight of the piano every so often. It was only after they were called from the stage, and one of them managed to drag her friend from inspecting my wedding ring, that we were left to ourselves again.

As the stage cleared, I caught sight of yet another familiar face; Madame Giry, the woman who had been most like a mother to me during my life, was talking to my husband on the opposite side of the stage. They were both speaking intently, and I felt dread fill me immediately. Why hadn't I suspected Meg and Madame Giry to be here before? Of course they had been with Erik this entire time! Madame Giry had always seemed to know things no one else had. I felt utterly ridiculous that I hadn't put the pieces together, and wished with all of my heart that she would not mention who exactly had invited us here.

I wasn't able to make my way over to yet another happy reunion before Meg caught my attention again. "Sorry, did you say you were to be singing? Here?"

"In a week's time. During the final show of the season." I clarified, watching her closely. She seemed torn between being outraged and deflated.

"There must have been some mistake..." she looked toward the empty seats of the audience, her eyes troubled. "That's the leading lady's slot, and I've been booked!"

"No, surely not!" I resisted urge to take her hands once more and moved forward, wondering how to ease this on her.

She dropped onto the piano stool behind her. "This was meant to be my lucky break." she sighed sadly.

"I'm only singing one thing; an aria."

She looked up to me, still seeming to have a hopeless air about her and tried to fake a small smile. "Christine, I am honoured to be sharing the stage with you." she then leaned back in her seat, taking on a bitter edge I was surprised to find in the ballerina who had once been so constantly effervescent. "It shouldn't surprise me, being overlooked as I am, I suppose..."

My eyes slid back to her mother and my husband, and I caught sight of an outraged expression on my husband's face. Oh no, I thought, rushing to get to them in order to try to ease any of the damage that been done.

"Darling, is everything alright?"

He snatched the forgotten sheet music out of my hand and grabbed my arm viciously in a way that terrified me. Usually behaviour like this only came from him when he was under the influence of alcohol, and it lead to things I had a hard time forgetting about. "Tell me honestly, Christine," he said in a dangerous voice. "Who composed this music?"

"Raoul, please," I squirmed uncomfortably in his grasp, well aware of the Giry's prying eyes focused on us. "You're hurting me."

He pushed me away from him and stalked away. "I will deal with you later." he hissed.

The woman who had once been so much like a mother to me finally took my hands and placed a long forgotten, but familiar kiss, to my forehead. "Christine, my dear, look at you! You've changed so much."

I gave her the best smile I managed. "Madame, I must say I am surprised to see you here."

"And I you, Christine," there was something hard in her eyes, as if...she did not truly wish to see me? "Surely you will not be staying?"

"Why would I leave?" I frowned despite myself. "Madame, do you have any idea why this -"

"The master's mind works in mysterious ways," she said, cutting me off. "I doubt any of us should wonder at what he manages purely for his entertainment."

Entertainment. I swallowed back a remark, catching myself. For the first time, I realised just how much being married to Raoul for ten years had changed me. Never in my life would I have spoken rudely to Madame Giry in the past, and now it seemed it would be only too easy. Memories of my attitude toward Erik the night previously also flooded into my mind, and I felt blush warm my cheeks. Where had the timid little Christine Daaé he had most likely been expecting disappeared to?

An unfamiliar voice called over us. "Break's over, Meg!" the dancing girls returned to the stage, and Raoul ceased the conversation he had picked up with my once-best friend and began making his way toward me to escort me out of the hall.

"Enjoy your stay," Madame Giry said politely.

"Hope it extends!" I said cheerfully, purely on a reflex. My face fell as I thought over my own words, and I was vaguely aware of my husband and mother-figure giving me a look as though worried about my insanity.

Raoul was silent until we were away from the stage, halfway back through the hall, and that's where he caught my arm to stop me, turning me to himself and speaking in a dangerous voice. "I swear to you, Christine, if you do not -"

I knew that voice. And Raoul was not even intoxicated. I had never heard it come out of him while he'd been sober before. Thankfully, something else worthy enough of an interruption caught my attention. "Gustave! Gustave..."

Raoul groaned and turned, searching for him himself. "Must we always be chasing after the boy?! When I find him, I will -"

"No!" I took a couple of steps away from him and tried to give him a reassuring look. "I'll look for him. You go on back to the hotel, Raoul, and I will join you as soon as I have him."

I had a strange feeling I knew where Gustave had disappeared to, or rather, who he had disappeared with, and the fear for the safety of my child was enough to push away the worry of what I knew my husband would have liked to have said. I turned from him and began walking, intent on finding help, before he could say anything to keep me with him.

The thought of Raoul finding Gustave and punishing him as he seemed fit had worried me to begin with, but the thought of Gustave being under the careful gaze of Erik had my heart hammering in my chest, and not only because of Erik's threat from the night before.