Luckily, Marc had not asked her to meet his parents again. She knew he would eventually. Marc had decided it would be best to set the matter aside for a while. At least until she had adjusted to living without her father.
Marc had not been lying when he had spoken to the ballet rat. He told Chrissy that he truely ment her being his fiancee. He told his mother this and, although she disapproved of him being engaged to a woman she and his father had never met, she gave him permisson to buy her a ring. Chrissy wore it on a chain around her neck.
"Why do you do that?" he asked her one evening as they sat talking in front of the fire. "After all, there is no one to hide this from, really. Your father...well-"
"My father is not here to disapprove of us, I know!" Chrissy said, "But...I'm sorry, I don't want to wear it on my finger until...until your parents know about me."
"What are you saying Chrissy?" Marc asked, "Do you mean you are ready to meet my parents?"
"Not entirely!" she said, "They probably have a preconceived idea about me and, no matter what that idea might be, I'm sure they are certainly not expecting this!"
Marc stood up, thinking, "What if," he said, "what if you could meet thim with a mask over your face."
Chrissy was a bit confused. "Marc, I think you're starting to go a bit mad." she said, "Have you forgotten what this is?"
"Not like that," he said, "Look, the New Year's Eve party is coming up. M. Firmin had decided that they are going to celebrate it like they use to in France. With a masquerade ball. You could wear some sort of mask to covers up any park to your face you wouldn't want them to see."
Chrissy thought for a moment. "Do you think it will work?"
"I do believe so," Marc replied, "The party is in two days. Would you go and meet my parents?"
Chrissy stood up. She took a deep breath, "Yes," she said, "I will."
Two days later, Marc left in his solider uniform, saying that he would be picking up Chrissy and meeting his parents at the opera house. Chrissy was actually waiting for him up on his balcony and would climb down when the carriage was awaiting her below his bedroom. She was dressed as a real ballerina. A mask covered the top of her face while a thick matching veil was over the bottom. To make things seem less suspicious, she had removed her usual mask from underneath. She seemed almost empty without it. But her feeling subsided as she climbed into the back of the carriage with Marc.
They arrived at the opera house where other couples and guests were, getting out of their carriages. Chrissy felt just like everyone else for a change. People looked in her direction and nodded recognition. She couldn't believe the attention she was getting. After a while, she forgot about all her problems and started to really enjoy herself. Especially when she and Marc began dancing.
"Having fun?" Marc asked her as they waltzed.
"For the first time in my life." she said.
"Then, Chrissy," he said, "Why don't you wear your ring on your finger?"
Chrissy thought for a moment. She removed her ring from her neck and slipped it on her left finger. Marc smiled. He lifted her and swung her around the dance floor. The other dancers paused to watch them. Everyone was whispering, wondering who this extrondinary girl was. It was almost shocking. Girls all over Europe practically threw themselves at the Viscount, yet he wanted none of them to be the Viscountess. And yet, somehow, this mysterious girl whom none of them had ever actually seen before had caught him with her spell. The ballet rats, all of whom also had crushes on the Viscount, couldn't help but feel somewhat jealous and envied this strange ballerina, yet they all felt happy for her. Chrissy over heard them saying how it was all very romantic.
After they had finished dancing, Marc lead Chrissy over to where his parents were talking with M. and Mme. Firmin. Chrissy remembered Marc telling her how they had let the opera house's finances slip a bit since the death of their daughter. They seemed almost lost as she watched them speak. Yet she knew that their could not be anyway that her father did it.
"Mother, Father," Marc said, grabbing their attention. The Viscount and the Viscountess turned in their direction. Marc pulled Chrissy a bit closer.
"Yes, Marc" his father asked.
"I would like to introduce you to my fiancee, Chrissy," he said.
Chrissy was suddenly nervous and self concious. She back away a bit, hanging her head.
"Mlle. Chrissy," Christine said, "It is a pleasure to meet you at last! Marc has told us both so much about you!"
"He's told me a lot about the two of you as well, Mme. Viscount." Chrissy replied.
"We hear that the two of you are to be married," Raoul said.
"Yes," Chrissy said.
"Have the two of you decided when?" Christine asked.
"Not quite yet mother," Marc replied. Chrissy was relieve that he didn't make her answer that time.
"You two should be married in June. I lovely spring wedding. Wouldn't that be simply romantic, Raoul?"
"Yes," Raoul answered, "And I'm sure Mlle. Chrissy here will make a beautiful bride."
"I'm sure she will," Christine answered.
"I know she will," Marc said, kissing her hand. Chrissy smiled. She didn't feel so nervous anymore. The music started playing again.
"Mlle. Chrissy," Raoul said, "May I have this dance?"
Raoul offered his gloved hand to her. He had been so kind to her, how could she refuse. She nodded, taking his hand. Raoul led her out onto the dance floor. Marc watched happily from the side until he and his mother went over and began dancing.
"I do believe Marc has fallen deeply for you," Raoul said, "He spends most of his time with you. He speaks of you more than often at home."
"He's made quite an impression on me, as well, my dear Viscount." Chrissy said, "I never thought I would be so lucky as to find someone as wonderful as Marc."
"Well, you've certainly stolen his heart, I can tell you that," he answered.
"He has stolen mine, as well, Monsieur," she said.
They continued walking for a while until the music suddenly stopped. Everyone in the hall was either standing in shock or screaming. Raoul and Chrissy stopped dancing as did Marc and Christine. Everyone was facing the stairs. At the top of them stood a figure dressed in red except for his white mask.
"The Phantom of the Opera," Raoul said, panic in his voice.
"Father," Chrissy whispered, also with panic, but from a very different reason.
Erik began to descend the stairs. Chrissy caught Marc's eye. They both knew they were thinking the same thing. But how could they get away now? Everyone would notice them and Erik would certainly find them sooner or later. What would they do then. They both knew they would have to sit it out.
"My old friends," he said as he descended the steps. "Having a party are we? Why it feels like we are back in France, wouldn't you agree M. Firmin."
Erik had stopped just before the Firmins. Chrissy looked around at a few faces. Some were panic stricken, others just scared, some looked at him with loathing. Wondering how he dared to speak to the Firmins after what he had done to them.
Erik continued on.
"I have written a new opera." he said, "La Morte del Mio Amore, this shall be the next opera you perform or disaster will strike. He walked over to Christine and Marc. Chrissy saw Christine turn white as he touched her cheek.
"And our own Mlle. Daae will take the lead." he said. No one dared correct him on her name.
"No one shall interfer with my plans," he said, standing before Raoul, "No one,"
Raoul and Erik just stared at each other. They each had a look as if the other was dying to drive a sword down his throat. After a moment, Erik's eyes fell upon Chrissy standing next to Raoul. He looked almost shocked.
Chrissy backed a bit in fear. She was sure that Erik wouldn't hurt her, but she still couldn't help but be afraid. Erik continued to stare down at her. He had a look of fury on his face.
Then, before he could say another word, he grabbed her wrist. "Let's go!" he said, not caring anymore about his opera. He dragged Chrissy from the opera and they both vanished in a blaze of smoke and fire. The entire room screamed when the flames arose. No one saw the leave, except Marc. He saw a medium sized hole close just as the fire vanish. He didn't dare go through it. Not just now, anyway.
Raoul rushed over to Christine and Marc.
"Are you ok?" he asked Christine.
"Yes, I'm fine," she said, "Where is Chrissy?"
"The Phantom took her," he said, "She's gone!"
They looked at Marc, as if expecting him to be more shocked or furious, but he couldn't even pretend to be. He was too upset. A year and a half, they had been together and no one had stopped them. Now...
...would he ever see Chrissy again?
"I think it's best if we went home now." Raoul said.
"Yes, that would be best," Christine replied. "Are you going to stay here and try to find Chrissy, Marc?"
"No," he said, giving his parents a surprise, "No, if I know her, and I know I do, she's already forming a plan to escape."
"How can you be so sure?" Christine asked.
"She's a genius, Mother," Marc said, stepping out of the hall. Raoul and a very suspicious Christine followed him.
Through the catacombs of the laybrinth, Erik still held on the Chrissy's wrist. He didn't speak to her at all on the way down and she didn't dare try to make him speak. Finally they made it to their home. Erik stepped in, bringing Chrissy inside with him.
The room looked the same as it had when Chrissy had left earlier that evening, except a few more candles had been lit. Erik finally dropped Chrissy's wrist and walked down the steps. From the time it had taken Chrissy and Erik to leave the masquerade ball and make it inside their home, Chrissy had gone from scared to angry. When they had left the ball, she was afraid of what she would say to him when they got home, now, she wanted to say nothing.
Chrissy walked down the steps slowly and, without even a glance in her father's direction, went into her room and slammed the door.
For the first few hours in her room, Chrissy felt good that she had treated her father that way. He deserved it, after all, what with the spying on her and the forcing her to leave Marc and then leaving her for a year and a half. She would be happy if she never spoke to him again.
Around the third hour, when her clock had chimed 2 o'clock, she began to wonder whether this had been such a good idea. She was still furious with him for trying to break her and Marc up and for leaving her, but he had come back. He had come back, just as Marc had said. He had come back to be with her.
Chrissy was by no means ready to talk to her father. She didn't know what to say to him. And further more, he would definately force her to stay away from Marc. The only way she could stop this from happening was to bring Marc with her when she first spoke to him.
And she had the perfect idea to do it.
Erik changed from his costume as The Red Death and sat to work at his piano. He wanted to go to Chrissy's room to talk to her, but he just couldn't face her. He had missed her so much and he had been away from her for a year and a half and now...now she didn't even want to talk to him. He should have expected this.
Chrissy, however, was working on her plan to get her father and Erik together. The only way it would work was if she brough Marc's mother into the picture. She wrote two different notes. Both with her left hand so that neither one of the receipitants would recognize her writing. She stole her father's print and, after placing the melted wax onto the envelope, stamped it. On the front she wrote To: Viscountess de Chagny From: O.G.
As she finished writing this, she hated how this would affect Marc's mother. She had been ever so kind to her at the ball and now she was practically playing a trick on her. Yet, she had no choice. This was the only way.
Chrissy finished another note. However, she'd have to wait to seal it. On the front, she wrote To: Erik From Christine.
"I just this works," she said.
Slowly and quietly, Chrissy opened her bedroom door. She poked her head out a bit. Her father was busy working at his piano. She slowly stepped out, not daring to shut her door. She tiptoed quietly through the room, up and the stairs and over to the door. Keeping watch over her shoulder, Chrissy opened the door just enough to allow her body to slip through. Even slower, she shut it with the softest snap. Leaning against the wall for support, Chrissy took a few deep breaths of relief.
Marc did not go to the opera house with his parents the next day. They, of course, were not surprised. He said nothing to them on the way home. What they couldn't understand was why he did not want to report her kidnapping to the police. All he could say was, "You wouldn't understand."
Chrissy saw the Viscount's carriage pulled up outside the opera house. She was rather surprised that Marc was not there. Where could he be? Why didn't he come to see her. She wouldn't have time to ponder. Once the Viscount and the Viscountess were out of sight, she started running among the streets of New York to the Viscount's house. For daylight was just around the corner.
Marc was sleeping in a chair in his bedroom when she climbed onto the balcony. She heaved a sigh of relief. He must have fallen asleep there last night, having not gotten into bed due to worry. She started tapping on the door, as she always did when she came to his room to visit him.
Slowly, Marc opened his eyes. He heard a tapping in his bedroom. Perhaps it was just a dream. Chrissy had come to visit him many a time in the morning. It was probably just wishful thinking.
He sat up and looked over at the balcony. His eyes completely awoke as he saw Chrissy's smiling figure standing outside. Marc practically flew to the doors to let her in.
"Chrissy!" he cried, taking her in his arms, "I'm so glad you're all right?"
"I'm fine!" she said, "My father would never hurt me!"
"I know that," he said, "But, when he took you so suddenly, I...I thought he'd..."
"He'd what?" Chrissy asked.
"I thought he would leave again, but this time take you with him. I couldn't bear it if I lost you! I can't live without you!"
"I can't either, my love," she said, "That's why I've come up with a plan!"
"What?" he asked.
"First thing is first, I need to know how your mother seals her envelopes." Chrissy said.
"With wax!" he said, "Why?"
"What kind of wax?" Chrissy asked, "And what stamp does she use?"
"It's pink wax," he said, "and her stamp says De Chagny in fancy writing."
"Do you think you could get her wax and stamp for me?"
Marc was throughly confused by now. "What for?"
"I think that the only way I can ever convince my father that we love each other is if he meets you." she said, "But we can't just ask him to come and meet you. He'd refuse. Besides, I think it would be alot harder for him to hurt you if your mother was right there."
"I thought you said your father would never hurt anyone!" Marc said.
"If he doesn't have a reason," Chrissy said, "Your father, we can worry about later, but when your mother is there we...we can show her...we can tell her who I really am."
"I see," he said, "But what's the wax for?"
Chrissy held out the two envelopes. "I want you to give this to your mother saying you found it on the stage this morning. I'll leave this in the laybrinth where my father will be sure to find it."
"Oh, I see," he said, "When is the meeting set for."
"After the show's performance!" she said, "I've given your mother strict instructions on how to get down here. She shouldn't have any problems."
Marc quickly gathered the wax and seal from his parents bedroom. Chrissy quickly sealed the note.
"Now," she said, "I'll meet you on the roof of the opera house tonight during the show. Until then, I don't think it's safe for us to be together."
Marc nodded, picking up the note. They kissed before they left.
"Until tonight my Chrissy," he said.
"I'll miss you!" she said, running her fingers through his hair as he held her. "For a year and a half, we barely parted. It's going to feel like and eternity without you!"
"After tonight, nothing and no one will keep us apart again!" he said, "This just has to work!"
They kissed again. He watched Chrissy go out onto the balcony before he left his room. He took a deep breath and started for the opera house.