Don Juan Triumphant! A triumphant premiere indeed. Everyone across Paris fought for a ticket to see the great life's works of the oh-so-famous Opera Ghost who inhabited box five during the shows. The writer, named Erik, that's all that was printed on the little programs handed to the elite of Paris. They whispered and yelled until just before the curtain rose, whether it would be a masterpiece or a flop.

Tonight he had the elite in the large palm of his hand. First, the love of his life stood by his side as Monsieur Firmin and Andre signed the deed of the opera to him, then he broke the secret to her mother by taking her in his arms and professing his undying love for her. Then without a single yell, the one Meg was so afraid of telling, secretly blesses their union. After hours of waiting for a voice he created to make his life's work a triumph of the ages, Paris loved her, Paris loved Lucia, Paris loved Don Juan, and Paris loved Erik for the work he had done.

The new Prima ballerina La Marguerite danced and sung for her lover and received every bit of praise she deserved. They were a couple to be reckoned that night. Christine only sung to help catch the man who ruled her life under the name of The Angel of Music, if he had actually tried to sabotage himself.

Having never made contact with him the entire night Christine tricked herself into thinking something more awful and terrifying was to come, even though he did "set her free." Christine had enough of everything he gave her, glory and horror and all.

Nothing would have ever prepared her for the blow Christine would deliver to Meg this night. Meg always forgot Christine would tackle her after the curtain fell until she was on the floor. This time Christine simply walked with a detached look on her face right past Meg to their dressing room. Meg remembered after she saw the back of Christine's costume walking away.

In the next moment Meg made the biggest mistake of her life. Meg ran to box five to find the comfort he usually provided for her. At the same time she congratulated her soon to be husband. They sat in the red velvet draped lodge until the auditorium was empty and her mother came to attend the box. She opened her eyes to look at Madame Giry from her spot on his chest.

"Did you see Christine, Maman?" Her mother made to speak but stopped from lack of words.

"Yes, dear." Madame Giry left the box to speak to the ballet girls for notes.

"I should go see Christine, I have no idea how she will be." Meg lifted her head off of his chest. She was so afraid of what she will find when she meets with Christine. Will she find her crying, happy, terrified? She couldn't just leave her friend without a word. Erik followed secretly behind to wait for her so they could return underground.

"Christine! You were wonderful!" Meg yelled as she opened the unlocked door. She opened the door to find the room empty. Taking a few more steps in the empty room she spoke her name again, soft and wounded. "Christine?" Meg looked around the dark room only illuminated by a single dim gas-lamp. She first thought maybe Christine left for supper with Raoul.

"She's not here, Erik." Meg called to him from the thinning hall, he entered to find her sad tone matched her melancholy face perfectly. The room didn't feel right, even to him. Meg noticed the trunk usually kept next to the changing wall on Christine's side was gone. Meg began to notice how much of the room was gone. Christine's things on her vanity were gone, her clothes, her dressing gown all gone. Her side was bare compared to Meg's lush side. Erik noticed much faster than she did.

"She's gone." Her sister, her drifting best friend, finally left her without a word. Meg collapsed in front of the fainting couch the same way she had collapsed when Erik left her after they shared their first intimate moment. The moment he called her a "Goddess Among Men." For the first time. They didn't kiss, he only explained his wretched existence, and thanked her for the new life she had given him.

Erik held her for the first time, then he left her her alone in that dressing room, and now Christine left her alone in the very same room. Meg felt as if she had received an almost killing blow, she cried as he held onto her the very same way Christine had when he left her months ago.

Meg pushed away from him and stood up, leaving him on the floor staring at her. She started to become angry at her friend's departure. Why wouldn't she say goodbye? Was she that expendable? Picking up the heavy, ornate desk clock, one of the only solitary items left on the vanity. Meg paced with the object in her hand crying and asking every question that popped into her head, fast and angry.

"Marguerite you are scaring me." he spoke into her madness.

"Am I? She just… she just left. I bet she begged Le Vicomte to take her away, I hope he takes care her." She huffed then continued pacing. "Why should I care? Without a word she left, she left, she LEFT!" She threw the clock at the large mirror over Christine's dressing table, hitting dead center some little pieces fell onto the table along with the clock, but most of the mirror just cracked. Meg's mood changed drastically from anger as she went to pick up the now broken clock.

she received cuts on her hands from the glass around the lovely object and from the glass protecting the face of the clock itself. She picked it up and held it to her chest reverently as Erik hugged her from behind saying sweet words. Meg fell into back onto him and they sunk to the floor. After a few moments he spied a piece of paper on the floor next to the dressing table, he reached for it and saw Christine's handwriting. The letter must have fallen off in Christine's rush to leave.

"Meg." She opened her crying eyes to him handing her the parchment, she took it with her shaking, bloody hands. Her blood spotted the paper, and read it aloud to him.

"Meg Please forgive me. You are not here, and I must go. For my health, for my life, and for my life with Raoul. This opera house holds too many horrible memories for me, and all of the good ones include you. I sung for him one last time, and now I must move on with my love, we are to be married. I want you to be there, but we are leaving the city and are planning to elope. So please know that I want you with me always, but I can't and I will miss you far too much. This is so hard for me, But I must. I hope one day you can understand why I left so quickly. Know that we will meet again someday, I plan to return to Paris for you. I will love you for all time. Please forgive me, my dancing love.

-Yours forever, Christine Daae"

It was obviously written in a rush, the word were scribbled, and teardrops decorated the paper with Meg's blood. Christine's words hardly soothed her mind. He still held her in his arms. Erik was her grounding force yet again, Meg was an disparaging creature at times, and he seemed to be the only one to keep her on Earth in times of crisis. The only other person to do so was Christine.

"Come home with me." Meg still returned to her room several floors up most nights even after Erik changed the Louis-Philippe room from its navy interior to one draped in all the pink, golds, and jewel toned finery for Meg. They shared the room when she stayed with him. His home was soon to officially be hers as well, it practically was already. Meg shook her head up and down and he picked her up bridal style from the floor.

"Wait!" Her pointed to the dressing table "I want to write a note for the cleaners." He walked her closer and leaned down with her in his arms and she laid the clock back onto the pile of glass, grabbed the stack of papers Christine got the paper she wrote her letter on.

If she hadn't they would remove the picture of her grief. She laid the note on top of the glass and shifted into his body and wrapped her arms around his neck. Erik walked to the mirror, opened the secret door, and they plunged into the opera house together.