Another chapter you guys! I was on a roll tonight! And I don't mean the dinner kind :rimshot:pause: No? Fine. Be zat way and diss my joke! Just go on and read you...Lovely people. Heh, heh...

Disclaimer: Still don't own anything or anyone, just as I didn't 5 minutes ago. (Do I really have to do that every chapter?)

"Raoul! Christine!" Danielle shouted, running into the opera house's foyer, searching frantically for the pair. "I have information!" she said breathlessly, finally catching them.

"About Erik?"

"No! About the man who's after Erik!" Danielle said happily.

"How did you find out?" Raoul asked.

"I met someone who had met the man!"

Gaston refused to accompany Danielle to speak with the de Chagny's for he felt unworthy to be in the Vicomte's presence. After all, he was only a lowly stage hand...

Danielle then proceeded to tell them everything Gaston had told her. They were shocked at hearing Celui's plans, and they were confused on who exactly this Celui was. They had never heard of him before, at least not in their circle of society.

"Now that we've got some of that cleared up," Raoul said, frowning at the whole story-"

"What shall we do about Erik at the present moment?" finished Christine.

"Hmm..." Raoul thought. He snapped his fingers suddenly. "I know! Invite him to supper!"

"You and your supper," sighed Christine.

"That's very nice, Raoul," Danielle said, "but you and Erik aren't what I would call the best of friends..."

"Oh, tosh," Raoul scoffed arrogantly. "As long as the old chap isn't after my Christine, I'm fine with him!"

"I don't know Raoul...Do you think he should even make a public appearance?"

"It may be the only way to gain the Parisian's trust," Raoul said, shrugging. "It was only a suggestion..."

"Raoul is right, Danielle" said Christine. "Now, you go on and tell him that he's invited to supper tomorrow night. Invite Elsa too. And tomorrow morning, we can go shopping for something to wear!"

Raoul groaned. "Not more shopping!"

The next night, after beaucoup persuasion, a little kicking and screaming, and a whole lot of "Damn you!" and "Curse you!" being shouted/sung, Erik and Elsa were sitting, side by side, at the de Chagny's dining room table, in their posh mansion, in the "ritzy" area of Paris, a little ways from the opera house.

Danielle had forced Elsa to wear a dress, and Erik was always dressed up; he looked as handsome as ever, and Danielle couldn't help to notice. Neither could Elsa, of couse, but she was able to keep her emotions contained, for the most part.

At the initial "showing up" of Erik and Elsa, (both wearing the same look of detattached nervousness amid other feelings, such as anxiety and regret for being there) they were greeted as every other guest had been; a smile, a laugh, a little chit-chat here and there; all of which Erik and Elsa both were skeptical to participate.

As the night went on, though, people began to talk. Erik's white mask no doubt stirred some questions, and Elsa's manner of speaking as if she were "on an equal level as the men of the high class" created doubt and obvious unhappiness within the group-especially the men; "She acts as though she's a grown man, and what could she be? 18?" "She should learn to hold her tongue!"

After a few more rounds of this sneering and discontent, Elsa smiled politely, retiring to the back of the grand hall to talk with Danielle, who had been keeping the guests busy with news and gossip from the Opera Populaire.

"Will," Elsa said nervously, adjusting her fluffy pink dress that was really begininng to anger her, "I don't know about this dinner thing. Everyone's suspicious of Erik. And they don't seem to like me either."

"Oh hush up Jack," Danielle said, ignoring her friend.

Elsa sighed and leaned against the wall, scanning the room. She saw the de Chagny's upholding the cliche of upper class; she saw Danielle carrying around champagne glasses to various people and flirting with the young gentlemen; she witnessed Erik clench and unclench his fists now and again, either out of anger or sheer boredom.

Finally, dinner was called and everyone gathered round the expansive table. Courses were brought out, of course, one at a time, as in French tradition. This took a whole lot of time that Erik, Elsa, Danielle, and even Raoul-who was famished, as usual-didn't agree with.

Glances around the table, along with more stifled chit-chat ensued, until the glances became long, sweeping stares-both at Erik and Elsa, and the chit-chat became whispers laden with suspicion and arrogance.

A little while longer and the whole table was whispering, glancing and even frowning momentarily towards Erik.

"Who do the de Chagny's think they are-?" he caught a snatch of a conversation.

"-Inviting the likes of him-?"

"Why, I never!"

"Preposturous! A damn shame-"

"Indeed. And the little one-"

"-Just like him!"

Erik's temper-and blood pressure-was rising at every decibel of sound created by the guests. He gripped the arms of his chair tightly, trying not to let anger get the best of him; he promised Elsa to behave himself and refrain from using his noose on anyone...But it was damn hard when the woman two seats to his right was staring at his mask so intently that her spectacles had fallen to the bridge of her nose!

Elsa bit her lip nervously. Erik was tense, she could feel it. She placed a hand gently on his knee, causing him to jump slightly. Seeing it was only her, he nodded and smiled curtly.

"You're doing very well," she whispered. "Just a little while longer."

Someone down the table scoffed loudly: "Befriending a monster!"

Elsa's eyes widened-she knew what was coming even before Erik had leapt out of his chair.

It happened quickly.

As if by magic, the chandelier hanging, centered, above the table, came crashing down, shattering into thousands of tiny, sharp pieces, flying maliciously at the guests who were now screaming, scuffling, and tripping away from it.

As the guests screamed, Danielle, Raoul, and Christine all shared looks of horror as they retreated from the flying Swarovski remnants.

Elsa hid her face as Erik grabbed her wrist and was pulled somewhat violently and forcefully out of her chair and eventually out of the mansion.

He gathered her up in his arms and retreated to his sanctuary below the opera house, his chances at Parisian popularity utterly shattered, just as the de Chagny's Swarovski dining room chandelier.

Alright, that's the 3rd chapter up in one day! You all should be happy campers. And I ain't puttin' any mroe up, or even writin' anymore, lest I be gettin' another couple of reviews. I'll love you forever. AND I'LL GIVE YOU A COOKIE! So review, dash it all!