Charles needs to run through the plan once more just so it is perfectly clear and he has not misheard or imagining things. He is in the driver's seat of the rented truck, a douglas fern is on the roof.

"So, I have this right, we're breaking into our Muslim's friend's home and setting up a Christmas tree." He casts a quick glance at Jules, the one who is behind this mad idea. He nods.

"He won't expect a thing."

"Uh huh." Charles taps his fingers against the steering wheel. This is not the worst way to spend the evening.

They arrive.

"So, you go in and distract him." Charles says as he gets out of the truck. Jules starts to panic.

"What?"

"Yeah, your idea and he is your best friend," Charles says with a mocking breathy air. Charles goes to the tree and starts to untie the binds and rope. Jules is nervous. He nods

He doesn't wait to be allowed inside and makes his way in like he owns the place. Nadir resists throwing the remote at him.

"Jules, I didn't hear you knock." Nadir's is an angry smile. He gets up, greets the other man and follows the proper host protocol and makes the preparations for tea. He takes a sherry glass, pours sherry and hand it to Jules. The Frenchies all require a pre tea cocktail of some sort. They tend to become cranky without.

Jules accepts and remembers why he came. Charles is at the window motioning at him violently.

"Nadir, can you show me Mecca."

"What?" Nadir had not expected that and stares at his friend.

"Like, how do you pray? Can you show me again? Upstairs?" Jules points to the ceiling. Nadir looks up then back to his friend. He rubs the back of his neck.

"Sure," Nadir shakes his head and leads the other man upstairs. Once it is clear, Charles comes in from the front door, dragging the tree with him. He leans it against the wall and runs out the door, comes back with the tree stand and begins to work.


Nadir demonstrates to the French man how a good Muslim prays. He stands up.

"And that's how a Muslim do," Nadir cringes, he regrets that.

"Thank you. Do you have a copy of the, the," Jules feels his cheeks flush, he cannot remember the name of the book.

"The Quran." Nadir walks over to a bookcase, and he pulls out his copy of the holy book, he shows it off to Jules before gently returning it to its place.

"Yes, that's it." Jules is sweating. He pulls at his tie and is tempted throw off his jacket. He walks over to Nadir's bed and sits down. He waves his hands to cool and calm down.

"Are you feeling alright, Bernard?" Nadir is somewhat amused, but he can feel the need to put on his Papa hat, and he really wanted a quiet night.

"Hm? Oh, I am fine." His face his red and he wipes sweat from his brow before it can sting and blind his eyes. Nadir exhales and walks over to him, sits down next to him.

"Do you want to convert? Or is there something else?" Nadir thinks of the different dark possibilities that could lead Jules here so randomly and in such a nervous and pathetic state.

"Convert? Oh, no. I'm still Catholic, despite everything," he chuckles. The laughter does not reach his eyes.

"Is it Erik? Is he leading you on again? We talked about this; you deserve better. "

"What? No." Nadir is unconvinced and sighs heavily. He rubs his face. It is going to be a long night.

Loud banging and curses from downstairs interrupt Nadir. He runs out of the room and down the stairs.


Charles has the tree settled in the stand finally. Nadir stops short and he's very confused.

"Chuck, what the actual fuck? What?" Nadir is very confused, he turns to Jules who ta, da's.

"Merry Christmas!" His smile is wide and awkward. He wags his fingers.

"What?" Nadir turns back to the tree.

"You idiot, you didn't bring any ornaments!" Charles snaps. He sits down next to the tree, digs through his jacket for a lighter.

"What's happening?" Nadir walks over to the tree and examines it. He tugs at branches and frowns as needles fall to the floor.

"We got you a tree." Jules says, he actually hadn't thought too deeply about this.

"Right." Nadir bends down and starts to pick up the needles from the tree.

"You've never had a tree before, so I thought, it would be fun!" Jules says from behind.

"You failed to bring ornaments." Charles takes a deep drag from his cig.

"We'll go out and get some!" Jules is out the door. Nadir rubs the back of his head and looks at the tree.

"I think I get it. Thanks?" Nadir says, he is not sure how he feels about the tree. Jules presses the horn.

"We should go before he pisses off the neighbors." Nadir goes to grab his coat. Charles stands and shrugs.

"If they make an issue, we'll just kill them," he flicks the cig on the ground and presses it with his shoe, putting it out. Nadir resists pistol whipping him in the back of the head.

"You were a nice practicing Catholic that feared God, what happened, Chuck?" He asks knowing the answer.

"I met Erik." Charles turns to him. Nadir feels cold and it's not from the weather.


1879 Christmas Eve, France, Giry Residence.

"And what did we ask for, this year?" Mama Giry asks. She is at her chair in the small front room near the kitchen. She is knitting a scarf. One can never more than enough scarves. Meg is seated by the small furnace; she's poking the fire with the stoker.

"Fresh bread," Meg turns to her mother, they share a sad smile before returning to their separate work.

"The small things in life," Mama Giry says as she knits. Meg nods, she watches the fire intensely.

"Do you think we could find work in the new year?" Meg gives up on the fire and settles by the window, she looks out and watches as the snow falls.

"Perhaps. That new Opera House should be finished. There is bound to be work there, maybe you could dance." Mama Giry sets aside the finish scarf and rummages from her basket.

"That would be magical," Meg closes her eyes. She can see herself on the stage dancing in a grand tutu, all eyes on her as she performs, the light fights to keep up with her movements, pink daylilies are thrown on stage instead of the typical rose.

"It's time for bed, come!" Her mother calls out to her. Meg moves away from the window.


New York, Today

Meg blinks back the memories. She hates this fireplace, it's not real. It's one of those digital, we want the idea of a fire, fireplace. She told Erik it was a stupid idea and he had it installed to spite her, and he reminded Meg, it was his building, his penthouse, she is just allowed to live there.

"When I had nothing and lived with my mother, I had a better fireplace than this, also, it was real." Meg sighs before standing up to refill her glass. RC holds his glass up wordlessly; she narrows her eyes her boy before taking his glass.

"Weren't you poor and shared a bed?" RC shoulders. The idea having nearly nothing and having to share a bedroom with his parents makes him sick. Gideon, his boyfriend, lived in a two-bedroom apartment with a family of five for four years, while his parents worked and saved so they could afford a better place. That was hard.

RC never wanted for anything. Meg feels she has failed her boy in many ways. He doesn't have to work for anything.

"I should have made him get a job when he turned fourteen and had him buy his fancy flute himself," Meg chides herself as she walks to the kitchen. She made him do his own laundry at the age of thirteen, so she has that. He can load a dishwasher, he can dress himself, suck it nobles. Meg laughs at her thoughts.

"Thank you, Ms. Giry," Gideon says, ever the polite one, as Meg hands him a fresh glass of eggnog.

"You can call her Meg," RC takes his glass roughly and he keeps his attention to the film on the TV.

"If it makes you comfortable to call me Ms. Giry instead, that's okay. Either is fine." Meg returns to her seat and glares at the false fire.

"What's Papa doing?" RC is trying to get along with his father, for Meg, he will try.

"Sleeping off Dilaudid." Meg is very bitter that Erik discovered something more potent than morphine. She gets it, his mind is different and as much as she hates to admit it, the drugs do calm Erik the eff down, but he could have the decency to keep his habit outside of homes they share and away from their children!

She snorts darkly. Who is she kidding? Erik exists to serve his own dark pleasures, self-indulgent and gluttony are not strong enough to describe it.

Though, there are the benefits of his high and calmer brain. He's almost nice, and if Meg asks him to do things, he does, she just wished it didn't take those measures.

How is this the life she chose? Enslaving herself to a dark creature who throws her to the side constantly, only to pick her up and do it again, and again.

"Isn't that stronger than morphine and codeine?" Gideon is alarmed. His favorite uncle died from his drug addiction.

"Yes." Meg hisses as she crosses her arms and tries to find a comfortable position in the chair.

"What super genius told Papa about it?" RC is just a tad bitter. When RC was five, he found a bag of speed hidden in the sofa, he took some, was rushed to the hospital and he and his mother lived with Nadir for a few months. It turns out, maternal anger is resistant to Erik's hypnotic, enticing voice.

Eventually it too, wears down, they moved back in, but still.

"Jules." Meg hisses through closed teeth.

That stupid drone, Jules. He wanted to win back some favor with his master, so he found a way, drugs, powerful drugs and he invited Erik over for an event, they shared this new delicious vice and Erik retuned the favor by fucking Jules until he could no longer remain conscious.

Christine shares Meg's displeasure of Erik's and the others drug habits, those women after leave events when they are passed around.

"What are we watching?" Meg's body jolts hot blue sparks at the sound of Erik's melodious voice at her ear.

Meg looks up and is surprised, he must be high, he left their bedroom sans mask. Gideon recoils in horror, RC shakes his head violently and holds his hand and whispers harshly to be cool, remain cool.

Nose up, Erik looks like a severely burned, melted fleshy skeleton, nose down he's got a normal youthful handsome face. He's still working on the rest, it's a process.

"Erik, you're underdressed for our present company! I'm surprised at this new development. I am glad for it, aren't you Rezy?" Meg nods at her son, he nods.

"Yes, Papa. It's good that you feel comfortable with your natural visage." RC offers a smile of support.

Gideon remains silent, he wants to be cool, wants to be show support, but he knows what beauty is according to society and his own standards, and Erik is the antithesis of all it.

Erik ignores all that noise and nuzzles Meg neck and he breathes her sweet perfume. He is still rather off his rocker and has the need to be with his mate, it is screaming, burning in lights inside his mind, his heart. He must have her attention.

"Die Hard," Meg says remembering the question, trying to fight off Erik, she's failing. His need for attention is stronger than her want for a comfortable position on the chair.

"Ice skating," He whispers into her neck.

"Ice skating? Now?" She tries to find a clock, something showing time. It's probably late. She closes her eyes. He doing wonderful things.

"Mm."

"Sure, we'll go." She says awkwardly.


Nadir, Charles, and Jules are back from the store and are decorating the tree. Nadir awkwardly throws the tinsel, he watches the others, he's trying to figure out if he's doing it right.

Results pending.

"This is kind of fun," Nadir says. He does not hate this. Charles finishes a box and opens another one.

"They used to put candles on trees," Jules says," people are stupid," Jules puts his hand on Nadir's shoulder for leverage as he raises up to put an ornament on a branch higher up.

"I've seen Meg and Erik do this, but I never understood it." Nadir pushes Jules away, as he tries the same stunt again.

"I don't understand it, I just do it." Charles taps a glass ball.

"Wait, wasn't there an incident with a fire at Christmas at the Opera House once?" Nadir blinks several times as the memory comes back to him. Charles and Jules snicker.

"That was great."

"Like I said, people are stupid." Jules hangs a Santa ornament on Nadir, Charles does the same.

"Oh Christmas, Nadir," they both sing as they continue to decorate their Muslim friend.


Christmas, Opera Populaire, 1880

"This is why we can't have nice things!" Moncharmin throws his hat on the ground and stomps on it. He grabs his head and paces in a circle, he groans violently. Firmin is at a loss. The firemen have been called and he is trying to keep the others calm and have the building evacuated.

Carlotta shoved Christine into the tree, Christine had been holding a candle, they were going to sing Silent Night, and Christine was holding a candle, and Carlotta, pushed Christine with her hip, trying to be clever and subtle, into the tree, which caught fire.

Meg grabbed a cup from someone as she passed and threw it at the tree, thinking it would be water, which it wasn't and made it that much worse.

Charles holds onto his panicking wife Louise and laughs at the chaos.

"This is a great Christmas party, don't you think, my darling?" He holds her close, she does not agree.

"No, Charles. We need to leave." She tries to move. He frowns and he escorts her out the building. Jules follows the couple and pulls at Charles's elbow.

"Leaving now?" Jules finds it hard to connect with people, especially his own awful wife, and he doesn't even try to parent anymore. Erik is more of a father now, paying for their education and other expenses. Without Erik whispering at his ear Jules can hardly function.

"The tree is on fire, Jules," Louise is surprised she must say this. Jules is pathetic, he nods, he lowers his head and turns back, Charles sighs and he calls out to him.

"Come over, we'll have a drink." Jules brightens up and he accepts gleefully.


Now

"Do you need the penguin?" Meg slides the penguin over to Erik who bats it away. He may not be graceful and high out of his mind right now, but he has never used a penguin to ice skate. He figures it out, eventually. Meg skates backwards and waves goodbye as the distance grows.

After an awkward minute of finding balance, Erik is able to find her and skate with her.

"The skating butler," Meg giggles," that's what you are tonight," Meg is happy, previous annoyances forgotten. Holiday Meg activated.

"Butler?" He never understood that one.

"Your dress! You dress like a butler! The Butler of the Opera, that's what you were!" Meg is about to lose balance from laughter. Erik grabs her around the middle and they spin several times.

"I was not dressed as a butler!" Erik's good humor fading as Meg practically cackles.

"Yes! The dark black trousers, the white undershirt, the vest, the jacket with the split! That's what butler's wear! Your tailor thought you were the head servant of the house!" Meg slows her speed, she's losing focus from laughter, and Erik's starting to radiate heat from anger.

"The butler did it!" Meg sits down on the ice. He pulls her roughly, and before he say or do anything she boops his nose with her mittens.

"Merry happy holiday times. Let's get some mulled wine and you can angrily pound me into the ground, yeah?" She pushes off of him and skates backwards, he goes after to her.


Notes:
In the book Phantom, Erik completely destroys Jules over the years with his enticing voice and machinations, and he makes amends by paying his children's education. Jules is the reasoning behind how Erik furnished his home under the Opera House, and why he wanted so much money monthly, Erik promised Jules he'd pay him 10 thousand francs a month. Jules had nine kids, a lot of education to pay for...
and I think Louise IS the name of Charles's wife