Kaylen awoke the next morning and quickly got dressed. Today was a day like any other despite the events of the night before. The world continued around her, it didn't stop because of her problems, and Kaylen never expected it to. Birdy would still expect her to be at her sewing machine in a hour. Meg and Ashley would still expect to see her at rehearsals. There were people who depended on her... and those who refused to.
She wiped away a tear as she brushed out her hair and remembered the night before. It had all started out so pleasant. She could remember the stars in the clear night sky. It had been perfect until...
Kaylen gathered what she would need for a day of work and started out the door. If she hadn't have looked down at just that moment she would have missed it...or crushed it. On the ground lay a single white rose like a lost child in a desert. Attached, a single piece of parchment with torn edges, as if it had been ripped from a larger sheet, not without care. Kaylen picked up the rose and held the card with a trembling hand to read the message. There.. in the same curious blood red ink were the words: Forgive me.
* * *
Erik strode through his passages, thinking. Christine knew what kind of monster he was. She loathed him so much as to go against his wishes, seeing Raoul outside the opera house and then, as if she meant to kill him, accepting the proposal from that boy. And yet...since that night he had first discovered the ring he had not seen it since. Christine no longer wore a chain around her neck nor a ring on her finger. Perhaps she had called it off. Perhaps she did not love him after all. Whether or not she did, Erik still loved her. and he had proved it tonight by replacing Carlotta with Christine.
Erik chuckled as he remembered the sight of Carlotta screaming and running off stage. The sight was almost to sweet for human eyes. He had snuck backstage to see the distraught Carlotta. Painted whore that she was, her gaudy stage makeup had run down her face with her tears, giving her the appearance of an oversized oil painting that had been left out in the rain. He had laughed out loud and she had run away screaming hysterically.
That was when he saw them, running up to the roof together. They honestly thought they could escape him there. Hah! He was heading there right now. Erik took his time navigating up to the roof... he could afford to. No matter how fast they ran they wouldn't reach the roof before him, he was sure of that.
He reached the roof with time to spare and climbed the statue of Apollo giving him a vantage point over the whole roof. The winds would carry up any stray conversation that his keen hearing might miss otherwise. It was perfect. Suddenly the silence of the night was broken by two sets of hurried footsteps. Erik crouched low against the statue and waited.
* * *
Christine led Raoul up the final flight of stairs into the cold Paris night. The picturesque scene of the Parisian skyline seemed ignorant to the tortures that where going on inside the opera house. Indeed she envied its innocence to the tragedy around her. With every few steps and a cautious backward glance she expected to see a flash of white mask or a swirl of black cloak.
She found her hands had begun to shake when they finally stopped to rest. Seeing her trembling hands Raoul reached out to clasp them in his. Christine started at the sudden contact, but was grateful for it.
"What's wrong? You're shaking. Why did you insist on us coming up here?"
Christine looked around nervously before answering, and even then kept her voice down to a hushed whisper. " I don't want him to hear."
Raoul's comforting smile faded and Christine was the worse for it. He stood up abruptly and threw his hands in the air. "Oh God Christine, not this again." Raoul reached down and put both hands on her shoulders. "He does not exist," he said slowly and firmly "He's a myth, a tale your father made up so that you would practice your scales."
Christine shook her head slowly and Raoul threw his hands up again and turned his back on her rubbing his temples.
"I've seen him." Christine said with so much conviction Raoul was forced to look back at her. " I know he exists. I heard his voice. I felt his touch...cold as death." Raoul gave her a look of pity and sat down beside her, putting and arm around her, as if trying to comfort an upset child. Christine pushed him away and stared at him. "Do you think me mad?! I've seen him! I've been there...to his house in the night. Raoul...I've seen his face... If such a thing deserves to be called a face. Never have I seen something so disfigured and malformed...and I hope I will never have to again." Christine lost all control and started sobbing uncontrollably. Raoul wrapped his arms around her and let her cry on his chest until she regained her composure. He cupped her chin in one hand and forced her to look up at him, whipping away tears with his other hand. "Shhh...yes I believe you love...I didn't at first, but I believe you now." He traced the outline of her face tenderly and leaned in to plant a soft kiss on her lips.
* * *
Erik clutched at his heart with his hand. He had trouble breathing as he looked down on the two lovers. If Christine's words about him had been a slap in the face, the kiss had been like a stab through the heart.
His mind clouded and he envisioned his love with a blooded knife in her hand smiling over him as he lay on the ground dieing. He looked up at her with a pleading look and she laughed.
"...Christine....why..." he said in a husky whisper.
* * *
Christine pulled away from the kiss suddenly and looked around nervously. "He's here...."she whispered to herself as she stared blankly into the darkness that surrounded them. "Oh my God, Raoul, he's here!" Christine jumped up and clutched Raouls dress jacket pulling with all her might. "We can't stay here! It isn't safe! Oh I was a fool, a fool! I can't escape him! I should now that by now. "
Raoul followed her to the door leading into the opera house and stopped abruptly grabbing both her shoulders in his hands and forcing her to look at him. "Yes you can, you can escape him. Listen to me...come with me...now...this very minute. I have a place...in London...we would have everything we needed. We've already arranged to get married...we'll just do it ahead of schedule.."
Christine shook her head slowly. "I couldn't do that...I have to finish the opera..." She stopped short and took another cautious look around before dropping her voice down to a whisper. "Tonight after the show..."
Raoul nodded and wrapped an arm around her to lead her back inside. Christine looked back over his arm into the darkness with a worried look before disappearing with Raoul.

***********

Erik stood by the edge of the roof looking up at the stars with tearless eyes. The time for crying had passed. Now was the time to act. Christine had excepted Raoul's proposal. They were going to leave tonight without even a word of goodbye.

With a sigh Erik reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a a rose that he had planned to gice to Christine after the performance. He raised it up to his face and closed his eyes, cherishing the sweet aroma and the delicate touch of the rose petals against the uncovered part of his face. Suddenly his eyes snapped open and he held the rose over the edge of the roof, watching with cold detachment as the petals threatened to fly off with the cold Paris wind.
He had been waiting for the right time and this was it. Now he would have his revenge on that boy one way or another.
With a cold heart he opened his fist and let the rose fall down to the street below.
* * *
Kaylen sat on her bed and thought. After what had happened tonight all the usherettes had scattered and Kaylen, with no where else to go, had gone back to her room to think. She knew who was responsible, everyone said that this was the phantom's evil work. 'But how could Erik do such a thing?' she had to wonder. As if in subconscious reminder she touched the bruise at her wrist. She had never thought that he was capable of that either.
A knock at the door interrupted her train of thought an made her jump. "Yes?" she said shakily despite her effort to calm down.
"Your assistance is needed mademoiselle. They are continuing the opera," A voice called out muffled by the door "God knows why..." she heard them mumble before continuing "and all usherettes have been called back to duty."
"Yes. I see. Thank you monsieur." Kaylen heard the footsteps recede down the hall. She got up and checked her image in the mirror. Finally satisfied with her appearance she opened the door and was about to step out when she heard a soft thud on the carpet behind her. Slowly she turned around to see what had fallen. Her heart beat faster as she saw her crystal rose lying on the floor, chipped. The rose had been in the middle of the nightstand. Kaylen had always made a point of that. How then did it fall to the floor? A fallen rose. The analogy somehow disturbed her and she crossed herself instinctively before returning the rose to the nightstand and leaving.
Outside, trampled unseen underfoot, lay Erik's rose, a live counter part to the crystal. A single petal was swept away by the wind into the cold Parisian night.