Right, I said that this chapter would be longer, and it is, but it won't be going up to the cemetery scene. There's three months between the night on the roof and the masquerade and I've decided I want to use those months to develop the story more. SO it'll probably be at least two more chapters until the whole "Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again" scene.

The poem Ella is reading from is Elizabeth Barrett Browning's "A Man Requirements".

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Rehearsals for Il Muto began at 7:30 the next morning. Rehearsals would last five days, with the opening happening on the night of the fifth day; a Friday this week. Ella decided to watch some the rehearsals today; she did not go to Madame Cabot's until Tuesday. The fact was Ella had nothing better to do but watch the rehearsals. After the first hour and a half of Carlotta's screeching, Ella decided she would rather wander around the city than put up with this. She was going down the great marble steps of the Opera House when she bumped into someone.

Damnit Ella! Why do you have to be so clumsy!

She mumbled an apology and looked….into the most beautiful blues eyes. "Raoul…" she gasped, dropping her papers and book. "Ellie…?" Raoul bent down to help her pick up her things. Their hands brushed each others for a second and Ella could not help but blush; Raoul hardly noticed. As they stood up Raoul asked, "Have you seen Christine?"

Ella's smile fell from her face. Ah, yes, Christine. How could you forget, Ella? It's Christine he loves…just like everyone else. "Christine is in rehearsals," she said, putting up a faux smile for the handsome Vicomte.

"Oh….yes of course. I forgot." Ella doubted that he forgot, more likely he just didn't care. "Well…how are you Ellie? You certainly have grown…." They were eye to eye. "I'm sorry I didn't get to see you much the other night."

Or at all… Ella just smiled brighter. "Yes….well you look different too…but still much the same." They walked down the few remaining steps together. "I'm afraid there's been so much going on…"

"Yes! Scandal and such….." he trailed off. He smiled at the younger Daae and thought how much the two sisters did look alike….yet not. And they definitely did not act alike. Ella had always been the somber, straightforward one. He took her hand in his and for a moment Ella almost dropped all her papers again. "Do you remember the last time we saw each other?" Oh bloody hell! Oh forget it; she could pick them up later!

She didn't answer, the lump in her throat was too big, and instead she just nodded and smiled again, this time a real, glittering smile. "We were on the beach….you, me, Christine, and Father…" He nodded.

"I said I would never forget you all, not in a hundred years…."

"Christine cried as soon as your carriage pulled away…"

"I thought she might. You didn't though, did you?"

"No…."

"Brave little Ellie….the strongest person Christine and I know…" Ella couldn't look at him when he said Christine's name. "You promised to always be my friend…" Ella nodded.

"Do you doubt that we are friends, Vicomte?" He was still holding her hand. At her words he squeezed it harder.

"Of course not! You are like my little sister!" He laughed, not knowing the knife he stuck in her. "This is why I know we are still friends, and that I can always trust you….for anything. To tell me the truth when I ask it of you." Ella pulled her hand out of his on the pretense of picking up her things once more.

"What do you mean?"

He stood her up and put his hands on her shoulders. "I want you to tell me, truthfully. Has Christine told you anything about that night…about what happened?"

Ah, yes, always back to Christine. Why should she be surprised? Ella was tired and now this silent rejection made her irritable, so she did not feel wrong lying to Raoul, though she had admitted to herself that she loved him. "She hasn't told me anything…just that she went out…I pressed her but she would not speak of it." She leaned into him a bit, "Between you and me I think she has a secret lover." This was not entirely false. Ella's words hit right on the mark; Raoul was crushed. But not for long…

"Raoul!" Both turned to see Christine coming down the stairs toward them, smiling with open arms. She hugged the Vicomte and then latched her arm around his. "I was hoping you would come today! We're rehearsing but we get an hour break for now." She looked over at her sister and smiled. "Shall we go somewhere, just the three of us!"

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Since they only had an hour and Raoul wanted to spend every minute with Christine he could, they decided to just pop in at the café around the corner. It was mostly Raoul and Christine who talked….about everything! Old times, new things, new fashions, this person who was in love with that person, but was being seen with this other person. They tried to get Ella involved in the conversation when they remembered she was there, but she was soon lost in the gaggle of giggles and merriment. "You don't mean it!" Christine gushed.

"I most certainly do. Why would I lie to you?" The two then got into a good natured argument about the time Raoul lied about the sweets he had brought her one day.

Ella couldn't believe it. Had they always been like this together? Had Raoul always been like this? He was, well she didn't want to say it, a fop. Yes, indubitably. She had been in love with him. She couldn't say she had been and then take it back the minute she found something offensive about him, that wasn't love she was sure. Yes, she had loved the Vicomte de Chagney, but now…Good lord, did she even like him? Well not like that anyway. And what's worse was that he was perfect for Christine! They were a match made in heaven! But it still hurt, the memory of Raoul smiling at her and petting her hair, while his eyes were only for Christine. And then there was Christine's Phantom lover….

"Ella!" She snapped out of her thoughts. Christine and Raoul were staring at her. Oh, zute! What had they been saying? "Raoul asked if you would like to accompany him to the performance," Christine filled her in.

"The performance….?"

"Of Il Muto, on Friday. Really Ella, what are you thinking of?"

Like I'm going to tell you!

"The performance of Il Muto…yes…yes…of course….I mean…Me?"

"I can think of no one else I would rather have there…well except for one, but she doesn't count," Raoul said placing his hand on Christine's shoulder.

"Well, I have to get back, you two can sort it out by Friday I'm sure." Christine got up to head for the door. Raoul made to follow her after laying a few bills down on the table. "I'll walk you back!" he said.

"Raoul!" Ella grabbed his arm. "You'll be in box five won't you?" He smiled at her like she was some child. "Of course, where else. Don't worry, Ellie…I'll protect you from the Phantom," he said jokingly. He went after Christine and left Ella alone in front of the café.

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Love me with thine hand stretched out
Freely -- open-minded:
Love me with thy loitering foot, --
Hearing one behind it.

Love me with thy voice, that turns
Sudden faint above me;
Love me with thy blush that burns
When I murmur 'Love me!'

Love me with thy thinking soul,
Break it to love-sighing;
Love me with thy thoughts that roll
On through living -- dying.

Ella stopped reading and looked over the words again. Normally when she read to Madame Cabot she did not think about the words or the story she was reading. She just read what was in front of her. Now though…..

"Oh, my dear…How foolish of me! I could not see, among many things, how tired you are!" Madame Cabot reached out her hand and closed the book for Ella. "You must go home at once! You must be rested for the Opera tonight!" Madame Cabot was a patron of the Opera Populaire herself, since the problem was only with her eyes and not with her ears. She was however not going to tonight's performance. "Il Muto, bah! Tell me when they have a real Opera…a tragedy…full of love and hope and despair. That is what makes an Opera my dear!"

"Yes, Madame."

"Yes, well, Marcel! Get the carriage for Mademoiselle Daae, please," the old woman yelled to her servant; Marcel unfortunately did have a hearing problem, but Madame could not bear to part with him.

"Oh, no, Madame," Ella protested. "The carriage is not—."

"…necessary," Madame Cabot finished for her. "So you say. I do not care. I need to go out anyhow, so we can drop you off and I would love the company. Now no more arguments!" She pounded her cane down.

"Yes, Madame."

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They were in the carriage; Madame Cabot was wrapped tightly in her furs. "It is chilly, I dare say it shall snow tonight." Ella only nodded, looking back down at her book. She could not say why she had such a sense of foreboding.

"Alright, what is it?"

"Hmmm….? What do you speak of, Madame?"

"Child, I may be blind but I am not dumb! Out with it! What is bothering you."

Ella thought back to the distressing events of this morning. Madame Giry had been yelling at some of the younger ballet tarts; they were late as usual. The Opera was doing one last dress rehearsal before tonight, and everyone was on edge.

"Are coming down to watch?" Christine asked her sister. Ella just shrugged. Like Madame Cabot she did not like this particular Opera. Instead she found herself wandering around the upper levels of the Opera House. She stood in front of box five; the box Raoul and she would share that night. She had no illusions, it was Christine that Raoul loved. He was only inviting Ella out of kindness to Christine. It did not bother her as much as it once would have, she noticed, as she stepped through the curtain into the box.

No wonder Erik wanted it! It was the best seat in the house! But no one ever saw him use it. Or at least no one ever saw him enter or leave it. There was probably another secret passage. Ella relaxed back into one of the plush seats and closed her eyes. She blocked out all the sounds from below; the orchestra, Carlotta's screeching, Piangi's bellowing. She was almost on the brink of unconsciousness.

"Having a nice time, mademoiselle?" She shot up straight as an arrow at the voice. How in the world…? The Phantom stood a few feet to her right, partly in the shadows.

"What are you doing here!" It was a stupid thing to say, but she couldn't think of anything else. He stepped away from the wall, and Ella remembered how menacing he could be this close up.

"This is my box, little Daae, so I should be asking you that question." He played with a loose strange of her hair, like she was nothing but his pet. She pulled away and crossed her arms.

"Humph, your box indeed!"

"I dare say my managers see it the same as you….poor fools." He sat down in the seat next to hers, the masked part of his face turned away. After he did not speak for several moments Ella decided to break the silence.

"What do you want?" she asked impatiently. When he turned to stair at her, she wished she hadn't spoken. His glance pierced her so that all her witty insults and repartees melted away.

"And here I was thinking to grace you with the title of intelligent, mademoiselle." He smirked. Did she say they melted away? Forget that, they were boiler proof!

"And I was going to deem you with my pity….but now—!" Ella couldn't finish her sentence. His hands clamped over her forearms again, right on top of the bruises that had been healing just fine until now. "Ouch! Would you quit grabbing me so!" But his face was a mask of fury. He pulled her closer to him.

"Pity, mademoiselle? You pity me?" He let out a harsh laugh and threw her back against the chair. "Why I suppose you should, when you have so much more than me!" Ella did not like the cruel twinkle in his eyes. "You have such a fabulous carrier reading to…what is that old harpies name again? Ai, and then there are your friends!...But then they're always hanging around Christine aren't they. The same with your father…."

"And Raoul de Chagney..." she shot back. She had meant to rub it in, make him stop harassing her. It didn't work.

"Oh, yes! The boy….Funny isn't it. Just like an Opera. Two sisters fall in love with the same man. Now which one would he want….it's his wish I am speaking of, of course…for truth he deserves neither one. Shall he set his sites on the bright, angelic jewel that is Christine? Or shall he choose the gangly, clumsy, introvert with the acid dipped tongue, who can't even admit how she really feels about her own sister?" Tears sprang in Ella's eyes. She wanted to turn away from him, but he knelt down in front of her and took her face in his hands. "Pity me, if you wish little Ella, for it is the only pleasure you have in your pathetic little existence. I will not begrudge it to you." He wiped her tears away with a gloved hand. She pulled away from him, but found she could only go deeper back into the cushion of the chair. She pushed him away and made for the curtain, stopped and turned.

"You are a vile, foul, disgusting...thing! When Madame Giry told me of your past I pitied you because you had known no compassion, no kindness, all because of your face. I pitied that this was the lot you had been cast! …..Now I think you deserve it! ….Your face truly must show what you heart is like…That is why people will pity you. As for me, I will never make such a mistake again!" She turned to leave the box and said in way of a farewell, without turning back, "Stay away from me and my sister…"

"I am fine, Madame," she finally replied to her aged companion. "Just tired I guess…and cold."

Madame Cabot looked her over with her goof right eye, deciding not to press her.

"Alright my dear." A few minutes later they pulled up in front of the Opera House and said their farewells.

Ella hurried up the stairs, shivering from the cold. She would have to hurry; it was later than she knew and the Opera would be starting in just under an hour!

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Next Chapter coming soon!