Hey guys! Thank you for those who have been reviewing. They mean a lot to me; I'm ecstatic for each one. I noticed that I don't get reviewed as often as I used to, so for those who have been kindly been reviewing each chapter, I thank you very, very much. I'm sorry that sometimes it takes a little longer to update; it's just a little hard sometimes. But for those who are still at least enjoying the story a little, don't be afraid to review, and don't forget to check out the face book page.

I wanna dedicate this chapter to phantomphan4evr; happy birthday! And thank you for being one of my most loyal reviewers! And you get an extra tight hug by Erik!

Erik: *Hugs tightly* Happy birthday. (^}_^)

Anyways, I'm naming this chapter after a No Doubt song. And even though it's a break up song, I think Erik's perspective on several different people fits it. I do not own any music by No Doubt, or anything from the Phantom of the Opera. I only own my OC's.

Enjoy!

. . .

Erik's POV

I stared at her, feeling utter terror grip my heart. If it were possible, I think I whitened from shock. Did Antoinette just ask me about the "mysterious" redheaded girl; did she just ask me about Clare? I was grateful that my mouth hadn't fallen open from shock like how it had when I first saw my doppelgänger. My, my, today was a day full of surprises! Not that that was a good thing, though.

I tried to keep my emotional mask from wavering. I kept my indifferent expression, keeping my lips still from twitching, as well as my eyebrows still from raising in bewilderment. It was truly surprising just how many muscles there were in our face that revealed signs of our inner emotions. One small twitch would indicate something, and I knew that Antoinette was searching for any movement. I was glad that my eyes hadn't widened, for that would've been one of the biggest give aways. The only culprit now would be if the blood had noticeably drained from my face. I dearly hoped that Antoinette would fail to notice that my skin was probably nearly the same shade as my wretched mask.

I racked my mind for an answer. I knew that she was waiting for one. The longer I hesitated, the more likely she would accuse my delayed response as a complete lie. Hell, even if it was true. But of course, I also couldn't respond too abruptly, or else she would assume that I had kept an answer memorized, ready to throw out as a lie once needed. At times, it seemed utterly ridiculous just how carefully things had to be calculated, just so one could be trusted. At times like this, I often thought that it would be so much easier to be a hermit.

"Antoinette, I'm afraid that you'll have to be more specific." I finally said. It was the first answer that I could think of. And it wasn't a terrible response either. After all, Clare wasn't the only redheaded girl on earth. Although I knew that I was practically cornered. I was going to lose this trial; that was obvious. For once I would have to answer her damned questions.

Lie. My mind whispered. But I knew that I wasn't willing to do that. I was planning on telling her the truth eventually, anyways.If only I could've been able to wait for a better time to tell her.

"I overheard the Vicomte talking to the managers. It was a while back. He had just gotten back from the cemetery with Christine. The Vicomte's clothes were soaking wet, and he was shivering. He was also furious, and Christine was looking as white as a sheet. . ." I immediately knew where this was going. I averted my eyes to my shoes, feeling trapped. It had been a long time since I had felt defeated like this. . .And I hated it. "The Vicomte mentioned that you were present at the cemetery, as well as a redheaded girl who arrived there alone. . .According to the Vicomte, you had a history of stalking Ms. Daae for a while, and I recall that as well. He fears that you were doing the same to this other girl."

I felt utterly insulted at this point. They made me sound like a sick predator. "I'm hurt. I suppose the world truly wants me to remain forever alone. Perhaps the Phantom of the Opera is destined to be observed as a monster for all of eternity. I guess society wants me to remain as a recluse." I found myself hissing at her. I wasn't entirely sure whether I was actually mad at her. Perhaps I was just mad at the world, or merely the Vicomte for making me come off sounding like a rapist. I may had done terrible things before in the past, but I could never, nor would I ever, bring myself to harm a woman. The Opera Ghost had to show some mercy after all. Although of course, the world always wanted to think of monsters being responsible for missing women.

Curse the Vicomte for accusing me of such a thing! Did he not explain Clare's rant after the Vicomte's sword fight duel? She had clearly disclosed the fact that I was Clare's protecter. I had saved her from Joseph Buquet's twisted intentions; even if the result was taking his life in the process. Certainly, the Vicomte neglected the need to explain that part of the story. Instead he merely ported my presence there to take Clare, just like how I had taken Christine before.

Looking back on it, I wanted to cringe in shame. I did regret taking Christine with me to my lair, even if that happened only one time. It was wrong. She had trusted me all of those years, but that night, I invaded her mind with my voice. My voice had lulled her conscience away so I could lead her to my lair, with her willingly following me, without a word of protest. Out of fear of of frightening her away, I altered the world around her, with the beauty of illusion. That was probably the only time she would ever be able to gaze at me (with my mask on or off) without looking fearful. I didn't want her to be afraid; not when I took her to my lair, willing to guide her into acceptance of marriage; hoping that even through that foggy, hypnotized state, she would somehow find acceptance in loving me. A monster. It seemed to be the only way back then. I had done it out of pure desperation. Although it was terrible of me to do such a thing, I never did take her innocence though. I had seized her free will, secretly possessed her to be in awe of me, yet I still wasn't monstrous enough to force her into my room, behind a locked door.

But of course, I would always carry a reputation of kidnapping, around the wary and fearful individuals here at the Opera House. It was my own fault though. And I desperately wished that I had never done it to begin with. And as angry as I was that Antoinette believed the Vicomte, I also couldn't blame her.

"Recluse?" Antoinette echoed, bringing me back to reality. "You chose that path of life, yourself."

My attention snapped to her. Did my ears deceive me? Did Antoinette, the one that I practically grew up with, truly accuse me of such a thing? Deep, deep down, where my anger flared, I found myself wanting to strike her. I suppressed the urge, clenching my hand into a tight fist at my armrest instead. Calm down. I told myself, as I stretched out my hand.

"That, my friend, is where you are wrong." I hissed through my teeth. "Have you forgotten how you first saw me? Did my "living" condition go unnoticed? Have you forgotten that you helped me escape? Have you forgotten that my mother certainly wouldn't want me back?" I found my voice raising with each statement. I leaned forward, spitting sentence after sentence at her. "God knows I was a burden to her. I was a disgrace to the family's name. I left for a reason, Antoinette. And I wasn't ready to go crawling back to my personal hell. I had considered it, I will admit it. Being with the gypsies may have been just as dreadful, or even worse, but then I realized that any place, anywhere where I was surrounded by others, was hell."

I watched as her expression began to soften slightly, and I recognized that she felt guilty. But the flames of my anger had gotten far too high to be controlled easily. "And as much pain my own mother had beaten into my soul, I wanted to see her happy. She was actually very beautiful when she smiled; I remember that. But why make someone else live in hell because of your presence? It was best for me to leave. . .It was best for both of us. But understand that once I was taken in by the gypsies, only to be given even more pain, I realized that there was no place that offered peace; no place where people were. I realized that it was best to seclude myself."

Once all of that was said, it fell silent. She gazed down at both of her hands that were clasped over the top of her cane. Her eyes looked sad; ashamed, and she pressed her lips into a straight line. I leaned back against my chair, trying to ease my heart that thumped with fury. I took silent, deep breaths, willing to calm my chest that rose and fell with uneven breaths.

"I am sorry, Erik." She said in a low tone; just barely above a whisper. "You never did speak much about your mother. I never realized that you left for that reason. I always assumed that you only ran away because you despised her."

"No." I whispered once my anger slowly began to whither. My rage's steam had grown weak after watching her become quiet upon my rant; after I unleashed my bottled up wrath. I may had not yelled loud enough to make the Opera House quake, but now Antoinette was the one who looked like a child, succumbing to their punishment. She appeared guilty of deceiving a friend. It visibly weighed on her shoulders, while I tried to shake off my irritation that only diluted, and subsided to hurt. The result of my outburst was only sadness. . .Once the flames had waned down.

"So you did not forcefully leave with the girl?" She asked after a long silence. I was offended by all of this, but once again, I couldn't blame Antoinette for being suspicious.

"No."

"Was it your original intention?"

"No. Antoinette, I know what you're thinking. But during my absence, I have changed very much. I never thought that I would, but I have. I may still be the Opera Ghost, but it was never in my intention to kidnap Clare." I realized then that Clare's name had slipped through my lips. I paused for a moment, wanting to take it back. Though I knew that it was futile to not mention her name, and I continued speaking anyways. "Forgive me, I know that it was very foolish of me to take Christine before. But I can assure you that that won't be my objective ever again. . .And Clare willingly departed with me because she loves me."

Antoinette immediately looked at me upon hearing those words. Saying such words felt foreign to me.

Or at least, I hope she still loves me like how she once had. . .Before she lost her memory. . .I mentally added in. The thought of that, made a lump form in my throat.

Don't start this now. Don't get emotional in front of her!

"I. . .I'm afraid that I don't quite understand. How long have you known her?" To my ears, it sounded as though she was doubtful that I found love, but I knew that that was not how she meant it to sound. I knew that in reality, she was merely curious in everything. Although I was growing anxious to leave Box 5, for speaking somehow had the ability to tempt tears to well at my eyes once my throat became tight from sorrowful emotions. The thick lump in my throat was the first warning. And I wasn't willing to test just how long I could keep such a strong emotion tamed when I knew very well that I became weak under the shackles of it.

"Ask the Vicomte." I whispered, struggling to keep my voice steady, as I rose from my seat. "It appears that he failed to explain everything that occurred that day. . .Please excuse me, Antoinette. . ." Without another word, I retreated from Box 5. I had prepared myself to ignore her demands for me to return, but she didn't strain to stop me anyways.

Slipping through hidden passageways and venturing back towards my lair, all hopes suddenly felt bleak as everything sunk in. An uneasy feeling gripped me, and I immediately recognized it. Worry. Fear. They were torture; they plagued the mind, and gnawed at my stomach. They were the gates to depression. Anguish invaded my heart; my personal hell igniting in my very own soul to bring misery, and deteriorate any and all hopes to break free from such a prison.

After such an unexpected visit from Antoinette, I began to question everything after our grim discussion. I hated reminiscing over all the mistakes I had made in my life. Remembering such things made me wonder just why Clare even loved me. I had been insulted, whether it were intentionally or not, so many times today, and I was reminded of. . .Of. . .Just how much of a terrible person I had been most of my life. It was sickening. I recognized before that I was easily loathed for many reasons, but I would always look the other way. But this time I had been vulnerable.

I had the desperate urge to see Clare. I wanted nothing more than to claim her in my arms and bury my face into her hair. I knew that if she were here at this very moment, I probably would've cried into her hair. I wanted to be told comforting words; something that my mother, nor anyone else, had ever done for me. Only Clare. I wanted her to make my fears disappear, and bury away my pain. I needed her this instant! But of course, I had to wait for her to fall asleep first.

You can always approach her through a mirror.

I considered it for a moment before deciding against it. I needed to collect my thoughts before she came. As much as I wanted to unravel my bottled up pain, I didn't want to startle her with my violent sobbing. Before her memory impairment, she comforted me through my tears. Although now she wasn't entirely the same.

I still couldn't believe that the Vicomte was, yet again, preventing me from reaching happiness. He had led Christine away from loving me, but now he was trying to save Clare from me? When there was no threat to begin with? The damn fop was ignorant! And his ignorance could possibly cause very much trouble. Although I began to wonder what was a bigger threat; the boy, or the doppelgänger who seemed to intrigue Clare.

This day was truly dreadful! The life felt to have been sucked from my soul, and I was a hair away from collapsing into a fit of tears. I could not wait for Clare to arrive. I needed a ray of light to shine through my cold, dark, world again. I was afraid. . .Afraid of losing her.

. . .

Wow, this was a longer chapter than normal. And damn, I really had to pick at Erik's emotional wounds in this one. What do you guys think is going to happen next? Share what you think through reviews! Reviews are always, and will always, be welcomed. And Erik needs some hugs! So each review counts as a hug!

Thank you for reading! Don't be afraid to hug Erik, and don't be afraid to check out the face book page! This face book page is a great way to get a notification when I update, or the latest news with my updates, etc. Or ya know, to just mainly look at phan pics. Those are always fun.