Ann: I found out about Erik and Christine two weeks later. I never intended for Erik to act the way he did when I told him to watch over the child. I had ment for him to guard and cherish her, perhaps even show himself to her and allow a friendship to develope.

Instead, he was hiding behind walls and mirrors while Christine went about believing she had an Angel watching over her. It was dangerous territory. I often proffered to arrange a meeting between the two, so Christine could meet Erik and he could become a true guardian for her.

He refused to see Christine face to face, and in time I quit asking. It was best to leave things alone. The main good that came out of all this was that Erik became less taxing on our employees. The manager received far less notes, which was good since Carlotta was now grating upon his nerves.

The older ballet girls quit complaining about lost items but the younger girls complained that there were no more candies left for them. Meg was still quiet and thoughtful, but she was as sweet and talented as ever, almost as if she were trying to impress someone.

The subscribers and pratrons were no longer bothered with silly manifestations or unexplained jests. All together it appeared as if Christine's presence had caused Erik to mature and come to his senses. Little truth did I know.

Erik: Her voice consumed and controlled me. I obeyed it as a slave follows it's master.

Every morning I would sit with my tea and compose songs for her, and every afternoon I would paint and draw only of her. I stopped visiting the other girls, and the only other ladies that commanded my attention were Ann and Meg.

I continued to give them presents and would still meet with Antionette at the begining of each month. She commented on my changed manners, and I had to tell her I was a grown man now. I was no longer the frightened, sad boy she had rescued. I was twenty years old, I knew what my position in life was, and I knew I had a job to fulfill.

I had to protect Christine, to teach and to train her, and to raise her to be a fine lady of society. She was my sweet prodigy, the mask I could use to play my music and fullfill my dreams, and no one would be the wiser. Ann asked if I was still composing Don Juan Triumphant and I told her yes. I already had the entire cast picked out, and I knew who would play Don Juan. She told me I was crazy, and I told her crazy isn't in my vocabulary.

Each evening was filled with music and that soft voice. Christine was learning fast, and I often made her try challenging chords to test her ability. We not only learned, pupil and teacher, but we also talked. I learned much about Christine's life with her father, but I was careful to avoid letting too much of myself slip.

The truth is, I was terrified. I was afraid that if the sweet, young child learned of my deceit, my treachery, that she would run. She would call the police or leave the Opera. I didn't want to lose my only real happiness. I was so entranced by her that I never noticed how time slipped by.

Each day was a moment for me, and each evening was a dream.

I first gave her lessons in the small chapel, teaching her within the walls and her on the cold stone floor. However, I wanted my prodigy to be as comfortable as possible, and so a few notes and a few mishaps to that dreadful bitch Carlotta, and soon Christine had the best dressing room available.

Of course the other ballet and chorus girls, and I dare say a few boys, were jealous. They stormed Mme. Giry and M. Debbiane demanding to know the reason. I gave them a reason when I allowed, or rather persuaded Maestro Remy, Christine to be cast in a second minor role at one of our performances.

She didn't do quite as good as I had expected, but what they heard was enough to let the little brats know that Christine deserved the very best. I later snuck around and gave all the chorus and ballet brats expensive choctlates, fine champaigne that was confiscated by Mme. Giry, and caviar. This shut them all up, and Christine's lessons continued beside the large, two-way mirror in her new dressing room.

Ann: I had thought Erik's shenanigans were over, but I was dead wrong. He constantly argued that the little chapel was not a good area for Christine's lessons. I had to agree the echo was dreadful, but where else could they find to be alone?

I later knew when Carlotta had a backdrop fall upon her what Erik was planning. I was forced to send several notes to our manager, who's nerves I dare say, were fryed. A few more mishaps in which Carlotta found several leeches in her bathing tub and one time a large beehive on her vanity, and she left her dressing room.

Of course Christine was presented with it, amongst great jealousy within the ballet and chorus troupe. Christine went on to perform a medicore role in one performance, but it was still rather better than Carlotta, and the young children were satisfied. When we later returned to their dormitories we discoverd very expensive choctlates, champaigne, and caviar with crackers.

I took the champaigne away and went down to scold Erik. He simply laughed and told me to lighten up. I had to agree that my demeanor had been quite harsh the past few years, and Erik opened the champaigne. We drank a bit and talked, and I actually enjoyed myself. Erik told me he was proud of Megan, and that he had a solo in his Opera especially for her.

I was impressed, and asked him about Christine's role. Of course she had the major part; Amnita. It was nice to simply relax and talk, and when it was time to leave Erik had told me goodbye, and he actually smiled at me.

It had been so many years since he'd smiled like that, but of course he was also inebriated. I waved and left the third cellar, using my skeleton key to slip past Joseph Buquet, who was loitering around suspiciously.

Time flew by, as birds migrated south, and the leaves fell, and winter blanketed the ground with soft snow, and then spring came and the flowers bloomed with clear skys, and then summer heraled the picnics and sailing boats, and the seasons began again. Five years passed with relative calm.

Only a few mishaps occured to remind the Opera who was in charge, but Erik mainly stayed with his prodigy, only once every year coming to give Meg a small birthday gift, which I had no qualms over.

Erik: Life was worth living, and living was worth celebrating. Christine was growing into a fine young star. I had begun to request that she work out at least thirty minutes a day, to keep her figure in shape as she entered puberty.

I had also introduced her to yoga, an eastern meditation that helped calm and ease her before performances. Christine appeared to enjoy it very much, and she even taught her best friend Megan about it. I would often watch from the mirror as the two girls would bend and twist in their yoga positions, and I had to admit that they were developing.

Meg was now fourteen and Christine was thirteen. I tried hard to keep my mind clean, as I felt only for Christine a type of fatherly love, but deep within my heart a new form of love was developing just as Christine developed. We continued our lessons, and I adored Christine's voice more than anything.

At home in my lair I would paint, draw, and compose only for her. I even began to build a small manniquin according to her measurments, and I started sewing small dresses and shawls for my Angel. It was quite amusing to see her face light up at the gifts. At night, when she was in bed, I would return to her and we would talk, mostly about her father, until she fell asleep at my soft voice.

I would sometimes sneak up and down, singing to her in her dreams and then returning to my lair. I must say it gave me quite a workout. Ann often commented on my body, but I wasn't particularly interested. I knew no woman would care for me as soon as she saw my face, and a muscular chest would not detract from that.

Ann tried to persuade me that my feelings were unjustified, that I was a good looking man, and we had yet another fight. Just for spite I ripped off my mask and screamed at her, and Ann slapped me. I never hit her back, but I did tell her to back off, and ran to my lair. I spent the entire night writing an apology letter, and delivered it face to face to Ann the next morning.

That afternoon I traveled out into the sun, for the first time in over seven years I walked amongst Parisian Society and visited the Musuem. It felt nice to be out and about after being cooped up inside the Opera Populaire, and I went back to my Christine in a lighter mood.