There was the sound of splintering wood as Erik broke the door right open. His face, confident and protective, fell instantly as he saw the mess in front of him. He surveyed the broken bottle before scanning her red-rimmed eyes. "Marjorie?"

She didn't know what to say, her hands still shaking with tremors. She didn't even know if any of this was real. Maybe she had actually taken the arsenic and had taken too much. Maybe she was dead. She didn't know. All she could do was stare into the blue eyes in front of her. They were so full of hurt. "I'm sorry."

"Why did you have this?" He picked up the piece of the bottle where the label still was. "You didn't take any of this, did you?"

"I just wanted to be perfect for you." Her lip trembled violently. She looked at the pile on the floor. "I'm sorry. I'll clean it up and everything will be okay. Everything will be okay."

"Marjorie." She reached down for the mess. "Marjorie. Look at me."

She continued to reach for the pile. "Look at me, Marjorie." Erik caught her face in his hands, lifting her face to look into his. his eyes were panicked. "Did you take any of this? Tell me the truth."

All she could do was shake her head, tears flowing freely again. She didn't know what to do anymore. She just wanted to make him happy, but she didn't know how. Everything was so confusing.

"Thank God." He pulled her into his strong embrace. A loud sob escaped her chest. "I'm so sorry, Marjorie. I'm so sorry."

His arms were wrapped around her in a strong embrace. As much as she cared for Julien, he would never compare. He was kind and sweet, but there were just some things that he might never understand. Maybe a few months ago, she could have loved him, but she wasn't the same anymore. Now she and Erik were far too intertwined. There was some sort of invisible connection between them that only they understood.

She looked up from Erik's shoulder. Julien still stood in the sitting room, looking absolutely horror stricken. Hie eyes bore into Erik's back. Erik must have felt her shoulders stiffen, as he turned to look at the boy. His body tensed up as well.

"You're him. Aren't you?" Julien's voice was a mixture of fear and anger. His eyes were set on the mask. "The Phantom of the Opera."

Erik stepped forward defensively. Marjorie tugged on his sleeve before he could do anything. A calm arrogance spread over him almost instantaneously. "Just let me help Marjorie to her bed. Then we can...discuss. But if you dare leave in that time, I will end more than your career."

He wrapped his arm around her waist and led her from the bathroom doorway, back towards her bedroom. Julien watched cautiously, standing on guard. Erik sent him a dark glare and the room seemed to drop in temperature. He shut the bedroom door behind them and led her to the bed. "Please say you'll forgive me, Marjorie. I didn't mean any of those things I said on the stage. I love you and our baby. Just let me talk to the boy first and then we can talk. Alright, ma cherie?"

"Don't hurt him, Erik." He helped her unlace her dress and climb under the covers. He didn't answer. "Promise me Erik. He's one of my only friends. You understand how important he is to me. Promise me."

"I will try my hardest." He pulled the blankets up to her chin. She took this time to observe his face. He looked as if he had been aged nearly ten years since she last saw him. His face was puffy and his eyes rimmed with red. Dark circles hung under his eyes.

"You've been crying."

"Yes I have." He looked to her face. A deep sadness had formed in his eyes. Darker than anything she could have imagined. Guilt washed over her. Was she why he looked this way? He leaned down and placed a kiss on her forehead. "I won't be long."

Erik's POV

I pulled the door shut behind me and looked at the boy. He seemed to cower when my gaze met his. I walked over to him, stopping when I was only about ten feet away. I tilted my chin upwards to where I was looking down my nose at him. He seemed absolutely horrified to be in my presence.

"You're him. The Opera Ghost. You're real."

"Yes."

"What do you want with Marjorie?"

I laughed bitterly. What a strange question. "I could very well ask you the same thing."

"Why are you here?"

"Well I believe it's a gentleman's duty to protect his fiancée. Wouldn't you agree?" He stared at me, wide eyed. He look absolutely appalled. Disgusted, even. His eyes flicked to Marjorie's bedroom door. "You could ask her yourself, but I would be very upset of you woke her."

He didn't make a move. He only stared at me. His small mind couldn't seem to wrap around the situation at all. He was nothing more than another daft fop. Just a boy, most likely with rich parents, who had never been told no.

"You did know Marjorie was an engaged woman, didn't you? After all, why do you think she put down your many advances?" I gauged his face, still blank with confusion. "Perhaps we shall change topics."

I stepped forward and he instantly scurried backwards. "Ah. So you're afraid? Nonetheless, I will create a bargain with you. A compromise of sorts. Alright?"

I began to pace the room. The boy eyes me nervously, still standing in stunned silence. "As far as you know, I do not exist. I am, and will be considered as such, a ghost. You have never seen me, and you will not dare speak of this conversation. Ever. My threat still stands. If you dare make a false move, I will end much more than your career. You are nothing more than a mere cellist. A warm body to fill my opera house. Cellists are easily replaceable. And cold, dead bodies can be easily replaced with warm ones." I placed my hand upon the Punjab on my hip. The boys eyes grew frantic. "Now, I have promised Marjorie, my fiancée, that I will not hurt you. Do not make me go back on my word. If not for your life, do it for her. You will respect her. And do not let this conversation hinder your friendship. If you hurt her, I will kill you. Is this all clear?"

He nodded sharply. "You may be allowed to discuss me with Marjorie, but this is if, and only if, she initiates the conversation. I give her no guidelines on what she can and cannot do. I do not own her. But I do own you. Again, is this clear?"

He nodded once more.

"Good." I quickly stepped to his side, seemingly appearing next to him. He shrunk in fear. "Now if I ever catch you kissing my fiancée again, I will slip this rope around your neck and you will be made an example of."

I stepped back once more. "If you have finally gotten this through your thick skull, you may leave. But one false move and you are dead. I hope I've made myself clear."

I turned my back on him and walked back to Marjorie's bedroom door. "Do not forget this conversation, your life depends on it."