"Chrissy?" someone said behind her. Chrissy whipped around.
"Marc!" she exclaimed, jumping back onto the roof. She couldn't help herself. She quickly rushed over to him and throw her arms around him. Marc followed suit and hugged her back.
She stayed like that for a moment, her eyes closed as she soaked in the way he felt, the way he smelled. When she opened her eyes, she noticed another girl, much closer to Chrissy in age, standing behind him.
"Who's that?" she asked.
Marc looked behind him. He and Chrissy let go and Marc walked over to the girl.
"Chrissy, this is a friend of mine, Aniette Andre-Firmin, Ani, this is my friend, Chrissy, The Phantess of the Opera."
Both girls were silent for a while, just staring at each other. Niether one wanted to be the first to speak.
"It's nice to meet you, Mlle. Andre-Firmin." Chrissy finally said.
"The pleasure's all mine, Mlle...Phantess." Ani replied.
"Chrissy, please." she said, "Not too many people call me Mlle. Phantess."
"From what I hear, not to many people know you exsist." Ani said.
"Just what's that suppose to mean?" Chrissy asked annoyed.
"Girls, please, don't start fighting." Marc pleaded.
"Well why did you bring her here?" asked Chrissy. "I never said anything about you bringing an audience to the roof, I just asked for you."
"I know, Chrissy, but she...she wanted to make sure you weren't dangerous."
"Dangerous?" Chrissy cried. "You think I'm dangerous? Marc Viscount de Chagny?"
"I know you are not dangerous, Chrissy!" Marc exclaimed, rushing over to her, "But...she's also heard the stories of your father as well."
Chrissy turned to Ani, "Well, despite what people may have told you, my father is not dangerous and he's probably the most trustworthy person I know and I'm not just saying that because he's basically the only person I've known my whole life!"
"A bit high strung, isn't she?" Annie asked.
"Annie!" Marc said, "Look, you've met her, now could you just go and be a look out for a while? Please?"
Annie hesitated. "Fine!" she said, heading over to the door, she climbed down the hundreds of stairs and shut the door behind her.
"Not exactly a people person." Marc said.
"I can see that." Chrissy replied, walking over to the ledge again.
"Well, Chrissy, " Marc said, walking up behind her, "You did ask me up here, what did you want to say?"
Chrissy was silent for a minute. She had rehersed so many times in her bedroom what she wanted to say, and now that the moment was upon her, she was a loss for words.
"Chrissy?" Marc asked again.
"Well, first of all." she said, still not wanting to face Marc, "I want to apologize for what happened last night. I should have told before you kissed me. And also, I over reacted. I hope you can forgive me."
Marc walked over to Chrissy. He didn't say a word. Marc simple pulled Chrissy into a soft kiss which turned very strong and passionate after a moment. She wrapped his arms around his neck. He pulled her waist close to him. Chrissy completely surrendered to him, lost in his arms.
A second later, they broke apart, but stayed in each other's arms. Chrissy rested her head on his shoulder.
"You feel so wonderful, Marc." Chrissy said, breathing in his scent.
"I thought I was never going to hold you in my arms again." Marc said, kissing her the top of her head.
They were silent for a while, just lost in the moment. Finally, Marc spoke.
"I love you, Chrissy." Marc said, once again.
Chrissy pulled away from Marc. She turned away. "Marc, you can't!" she said.
"Why?" he asked, grabbing her by the arm, "Why do you continue to say that?"
"I love you, Marc! I love you so much and I'd give my life for you. But how can you honestly tell me that you love me when...when you haven't even seen my face?"
"Then let me see it and I will prove to you that it doesn't matter to me what you look like!" Marc urged.
"I can't do that Marc. No one has ever seen my face apart from my father. You'll be driven insane by the sight of it." Chrissy pleaded.
"Chrissy, if you truely love me, you'll let me see your face. Without the mask!"
Chrissy looked up at the full moon shiny over the beautiful city of New York. "Ok," she whispered.
Chrissy slowly removed the mask from her face. She held it down on her side in her left hand. She took Marc's hand in her right and led him to where the moon was shinning brightest on the roof.
"Are you sure," she asked, tears beginning to form in her eyes.
"Yes," Marc answered.
Slowly and reluctantly, Chrissy turned around. She stopped when she was right in front of Marc's eyes.
Terrified of what Marc was thinking, Chrissy said nothing. She stood there in horror, waiting for the blow to fall.
"Oh my god." he said, more to himself than to Chrissy, "I can't believe it."
Chrissy still said nothing, she just hang her head.
"You truely are the most beautiful person I've ever seen." Marc said.
Chrissy looked up in disbelief. "How can you say that? I'm hideous!"
"Not to me." Marc said.
He kissed Chrissy again. She seemed to melt as she felt his lips again. She dropped her mask right at her feet as she throw her arms around him.
An hour or so later, down below them in the opera house, Christine had just finished the opera and headed to M. Firmin's office, still in costume. She didn't even bother knocking. She brust right in.
"Well?" she asked, "Have you gotten any other notes from O.G."
"No," M. Firmin said. "Have you seen or spoken with him yet?"
Christine shook her head. Suddenly, they heard Mme. Firmin's voice crying out in the hall.
"But, Monsieur, I think that Christine has personal business with my husband right now!"
"What could be so personal that I don't know about?" Raoul asked, starting to turn the doorknob handle.
"So," she said, screaming even louder, "you're going into my husband's office. Where he and your wife may be discussing some matters!"
"Why are you shouting?" Raoul asked as he opened the door. He looked around and spotted Christine. "Christine!" he said, "You're still in your costume? Why haven't you changed?"
"I was...just going to." she said., her face paler than usual.
"Christine, is there something wrong?" Raoul asked.
"No, there's..." Christine began, but at that moment, she looked into Raoul's eyes and knew she couldn't lie to him anymore. "Yes, Raoul. Something is terribly wrong."
"What is it? Is Marc alright?" Raoul asked.
"Yes, Marc is fine!" Christine said, "But...Raoul, I think you had better sit down."
Christine took Raoul over to where the two arm chairs sat in to office and sat him in the same one she had collapsed in earlier that day.
"Raoul, this morning, M. Firmin received a note." Christine began.
"From whom?" Raoul asked.
"Well, it was from-"
But at that moment, the door opened and in stepped-
"Marc!" Christine exclaimed, "Where have you been?"
"Mother, Father, I must speak with you privately!" he said.
"Marc, this is a bad time, your mother was just about to tell me something." Raoul replied.
"Tust me, it can wait!" Christine said, standing up. She and Raoul followed their son out into the hall.
"What was all that about?" Mme. Firmin asked.
"I don't know," M. Firmin said, "But I spoke with your father."
"You did? You told him about the...the phantom?" Mme. Firmin asked.
"No! Of course not!" M. Firmin answered, "He'd think I was mad! Remember, they always told us that the phantom was a myth. So I asked them about the managers that were said to have delt with him. He said 'They didn't give him as they asked for and lost almost everything. If they had only given into his simple demands, they might have been in business today.'"
"I can't believe our whole lives, we didn't know it was them. Today...well, it just seems oh so obvious!" Mme. Firmin replied.
"Yes," M. Firmin said, "Well, he told me about how much the phantom would ask for. So, that's how much he'll get. Close down box 5 and contact all we sold tickets, too. They'll have to be rescheduled in different seats for another night, I'm afraid."
"That sounds fair." Mme. Firmin said, "Perhaps, we'll never have to deal with him now. Where do we leave the money?"
"Mme. Viscount de Chagny said to leave it right here on my desk and he'll come to claim it before we return in the morning."
Mme. Firmin nodded. She stood watch over her husband as he worked. "I just hope nothing else goes wrong." she said, almost in a whisper.
"So do I, my dear, so do I." M. Firmin answered.
"Tell us, Marc, what is so important that you have to tell us right away?" Raoul asked.
:Mother, Father," he said, "I've met someone."
"Who?" his mother asked, still a bit pale.
"Well, she is a very beautiful girl! Her name is Chrissy." Marc replied.
"Chrissy?" Christine asked, "Chrissy who?"
"Uh...she doesn't have a last name." Marc said.
"No last name?" Raoul replied, "Well, is she an orphan or a homeless girl?"
"No!" Marc exclaimed, "She lives with her father. Mother, Father, you must meet her!"
"Is she here now?" Christine asked.
"Well..."Marc began. He couldn't exactly tell his parents that she was the Phantess of the Opera. "No, she went home."
"When can we meet her?" Raoul asked.
Marc hadn't thought about this. Chrissy would never come to meet his parents if she hadn't agreed to it first. But that shouldn't be too hard.
"Tomorrow." he said, "After the show."
"Right here?" Raoul asked.
"No," Marc said again, "In your dressing room, Mother."
"Alright," Christine said.
Marc was extremely happy. Christine changed in her dressing room and then the family left for home, Raoul still wondering what Christine had to tell him.
Back in the laybrinth, Chrissy had just arrived back. Her father was awaiting her, but he wasn't working at his piano.
"Enjoy the opera?" he asked.
"Yes," she replied.
"Funny," Erik said, "because I went to box 7 to watch the opera with you and you weren't there!"
"Well, I found it boring half way through and left before it was over." Chrissy replied.
"Chrissy, I was there before the curtain opened. You never put one foot into that box!"
Chrissy was silent. She hadn't thought of a cover up story.
"What were you doing?" Erik asked.
"I was..." she said, "I was...I wasn't doing anything!"
Erik was suddenly looking furious. "Go to your room. Don't come out until you are ready to tell me the truth."
Chrissy knew better than to argue. She went into her bedroom and shut the door. She had to think of a lie quickly if she ever wanted to see Marc again.