I admit I'm making the story a tiny bit sad…this chapter made me cry while writing it. I feel for Erik and Claire. Truth be told, I don't even know where this story is going. So this is like an emotional rollercoaster for all of us! Cheers!

Erik felt his world begin to collapse.

"It's over Erik." He did not believe for once second his beloved Claire had said such brutal and unfeeling words. His advance and her slow retreat made him loose his grip.

"You do not mean that." He believed this to be a horrible mistake, even a cruel joke. Erik was dumfounded by the sudden turn of events. He'd come up from his home exactly as the note had said. It had been straight forward and bland but Erik had naturally assumed Claire was in a rush. The letter read,

Meet me tonight in the Dressing Room. I will wait for you. –Claire

Just imagine the thrill Erik had at reading that he was to be reunited with his love earlier then he'd expected! Confusion had overtaken him as he had approached the mirror seeing only black. Assuming this was some error he opened the mirror and found that it was only a blanket. Any questions he might have had about that had been pushed from his mind the moment he saw Claire. She was the picture of beauty, dressed in an elegant dress. The tops of her breasts exposed, the flesh of her arms showing. He had rushed towards her without saying anything and kissed her passionately. He should have known something was wrong at the moment she pulled away from him. Then she had said those words.

"I do mean it Erik," she answered, interrupting his reminiscing, "We can't continue this farce."

"Farce?" he questioned, "How is this a farce!" His voice became shrill and angry near the end. Claire's face was suddenly filled with pain. She was not crying but he could tell she was holding it back.

"I'm too young. I have been foolish in thinking I knew what love was," she said. Erik could not believe what he was hearing. This precious creature he'd held in his arms just the night before, the one who had defied him and proclaimed her love, the girl who understood him was now tossing him aside.

"That is a lie!" he roared and rushed forwards. He grabbed her by the arms and gripped tightly. He wanted to shake her until she took it all back. He could not. He simply stood rigid, holding onto her. Claire had turned her head. Erik wanted to look her in the eyes.

"Look me in the eyes and tell me you don't love me," he said. He felt Claire's body become as stiff as his. She still did not meet his eyes.

"Look at me!" He screamed. She slowly met his eyes. Erik could see she was in agony and longed to hold her close and mend the hurt.

"I don't love you," she whispered quickly.

"This hurts you…why?"

"Erik! Let me go!" Erik released her and she took another step back away from him. She was nearing the door. He could feel the tears as they cascaded down his face.

"Please," Erik pleaded, "Please don't leave me." Claire's face was a mask of anguish. He could see this was tearing her apart as it was him. Claire shook her head.

"No," she cried, "I have too. This is for our own good Erik." He balled his hands up into fists. He could not accept this.

"Look at me Claire. Tell me what you see!" With that he ripped his mask off and threw it at her feet. She looked down at it stupefied and then looked back to Erik. He was baring his soul to her. She had seen him without his mask on, he knew this, but never when he was completely and utterly beside himself with grief. He had looked at himself in the mirror on nights he wept, the image of such a tortured man made his cry out in rage and sorrow. All he saw on Claire's face was sorrow.

"How can you do this to me?" he asked, his voice cracking. Claire turned away from him. Erik fell to the floor banging his knees. The pain was intense but he did not mind it. For a moment it distracted him from the pain in his heart. He buried his head in his hands and sobbed loudly. He could not control himself.

"Do not hate me," he heard Claire said, "This is what I must do." The door opened and then closed. Erik did not want to look up. He knew if he did she would not be there. As long as he did not look he would be able to imagine her still there. His sobbing was not quieted. He did not want anyone to come in and see him like this.

"Sleep my love…do not fear," Erik sang softly, "For in the morning I'll be here." This sudden memory of singing Claire to sleep sent him into another fit of angry and remorseful tears.

"Why," he sobbed, "Why?" He had experienced love for the first time in his life and she ripped it away from him. He lifted his weary head and spotted his mask lying on the floor. It was a mere few feet but to him it seemed like miles. He crawled towards it. When finally picking it up he did not place it on his face right away and instead stood. He approached the mirror and gazed at his reflection. What he saw was a broken beast.

"I was foolish to think someone could ever love this," he spat at his reflection. Anger grew in his heart. The tears subsided but the feeling of complete rage had begun to take hold. He let out an inhuman cry and plunged down into the dark depths. He moved with lighting speed back down to his home. He did not even tread with care on the levels where humans dwelled. He needed to be away from the surface and return to his prison. Upon reaching the lakes edge he resembled a mad man. He was clutching his mask so hard it had begun to cut into his hand, blood dripped onto the stone ground. Erik had never felt so many things at once before. He let the bloodied mask fall. It fell with such a forth it broke into two halves when it struck the ground. The inhuman cry was once again emitted. Erik titled his head towards the cavernous ceiling and screamed,

"Claire!"