Hehe, here we go. Again, thanks for all of your reviews. As for the Romyness, well . . . there will be some, but don't expect any fluff or anything. We have enough of that floating around this site. I should warn you that there will be a little Rogan stuff going on too, but nothing major. Actually, I've been in the habit of writing stories with Rogan friendship/pairing, so this will actually be my first story that has any Romy action. To be perfectly honest, I don't really know how the couples are going to end up at the end. So be prepared. Mwahahahaha . . .

Already did disclaimer. Mwahahahaha . . . .

BTW, I can hear someone playing 92 ProFM next door and this is the hundredth time today – just today – that it has played 'Don't Want to Be Lonely Anymore.' Is this a sign?

Anyway, on to da fic!

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"Thanks for the ride, Mr. Logan!"

As Kitty spoke, she tripped over the toe of her shoe, sending the three students tumbling out of the car.

Logan chuckled slightly. "No problem. Call me or Xavier when you're ready to be picked up. Remember, curfew's at eleven. If you don't call by ten, should I assume you've been kidnapped?"

Rogue rolled her eyes. "Very funny. We'll be fine. Besides, it's the weekend and it's almost summer. Why is curfew still at eleven?"

"We had an agreement. The day you graduate from school, curfew goes to one. Not before, no matter how close vacation is. It's only one more week."

"Yeah, Rogue, and we still have exams to study for. It's not like any of us are gonna be out at eleven o'clock at night dancing till we drop." There was Kitty for you. She did love to party but studying came first.

How studious of her, thought Rogue.

"Come on, guys!" cried Kurt. "The opera starts in ten minutes. Don't you want to get good seats?"

Kitty sighed. "Kurt, our seats are already on our tickets. This isn't the movie theater. Nobody's going to take our seats."

"Oh," he replied, sounding a little disappointed.

"Don't worry. The Prof got us good seats," Rogue reassured him.

Logan rolled his eyes and started mumbling to himself. "Yeah, always the one to spoil the kids. He's the nice teacher. Then I give 'em something they really need, like survival training, and what do I get? A water bomb in the glove compartment of the van."

"Uh, I think Mr. Logan is, like, talking to himself again," noted Kitty. "It's like, totally creeping me out."

Rogue cracked a smile. "Let's just get inside. See ya, Logan!"

The teacher gave a quick wave and drove off, still mumbling to himself.

"He needs to get out more," commented Kurt, half-joking, half-serious.

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"Wow! That was . . . awesome!" Kurt's German accent was always more rich and salient when he got excited about something.

"I know!" concurred Rogue. Her heart was actually pounding. That usually only happened during Danger Room sessions.

"Man, that scared the crap out of me!" cried Kitty, clearly shaken. "It was down-right freaky!"

"Oh, come on, Kitty! You've seen worse horror movies! It wasn't even gory!"

"I mean the whole thing with the vampire passing himself off as a potential husband, and then kills his lovers at the most unsuspecting moment!"

"So? That kind of thing happens all the time in vampire love stories" Kurt too had read such stories before, with the influence of his sister.

"Yeah, but-" she paused as she shivered slightly, "it's still really creepy."

In truth, Rogue really wasn't surprised by that. But it also wasn't just the story that she had enjoyed. It was the music too. Much more enthralling and engrossing than that Mozart opera she went to. It coaxed her into listening more consciously, rather than just letting the notes fly over her head without a care. Just by listening to it, she felt a variety of emotions, from fear to excitement to sensuality. It fit with the theme and story very well.

"Well, in my opinion," said Kurt, "I give it two thumbs up!"

Rogue nodded in agreement, but now another desire was tugging at her. "Hey, guys, don't you think we should look for Mr. Fenton?"

"Yeah, I guess so," said Kitty nervously; whether from the opera or from meeting that musician again Rogue was not really sure.

"Yeah, let's go!" Kurt was much excited. "We're gonna go backstage, right?"

"Well, if we can," Rogue answered. The thought had only occurred to her at that moment. Last time the class had backstage passes. How would they get in this time?

She and Kitty went by the same entrance as they did last time, with Kurt in tow. But when they reached the door, the man there said, "Cast, crew, and orchestra only."

Kitty sighed. "Well, I guess we can't get in. Maybe we should just wait out hear until Mr. Fenton comes out."

Kurt looked disappointed. "Aw, I wish we had a chance to see the backstage. It sounds really cool."

The three of them stood near the door for a moment. Then Rogue suddenly spoke up. "Wait! I just remembered something!" She grabbed Kitty and Kurt and pulled them further down the hallway. After a bit of walking they found an old door that was strangely unnoticed by almost everyone else.

"Hey, that door," said Kitty, with a tone of wonder in her voice. "I've never noticed it before, and yet . . ."

"That was the door Mr. Fenton and I came out of during the trip. That was how we escaped from the backstage."

"Weird. I don't think I noticed it when I spotted you two. It really looks like some closet door, not a stage door."

Rogue placed her hand on the knob and gave it a turn. The door popped open. Inside was the same hustle and bustle that the girls had witnessed just a few days before.

The friends walked in and Rogue closed the door. They quickly began looking around for their long-lost musician who didn't seem to be anywhere. Just then another one of those bouncers came up to them.

"Do you have backstage passes?"

The three of them looked at one another nervously, not knowing what to do.

"Well, sir," began Kitty, "we-"

"If you don't have passes, then I have to take you out of here." He grabbed Rogue by the arm, but the girl immediately resisted. "Let me go! You don't need to grab me! Let go!"

Kitty and Kurt joined in the quarrel and fought against the bouncer, who was trying to drag them to the main entrance to the backstage area.

Rogue felt desperate. "We're just looking for someone who-"

"You will wait outside!" snarled the bouncer, becoming rougher by the minute to shake Rogue down.

She looked down at her gloved hand. She didn't want to, but the more the bouncer knocked her around, the stronger the temptation became.

No, I shouldn't. It's just a touch though. But, if I use my powers . . .

"Is there a problem here?" A deep, almost threatening voice came from behind the bouncer. Suddenly becoming quite nervous, he looked around along with the kids.

There was Mr. Fenton, taller and darker than Rogue remembered, with his hand behind his back and his brow furrowed, his dark dangerous eyes on the muscular bouncer. He seemed so skinny in comparison with the thug, and yet the thug seemed quite alarmed. The musician possessed a much stronger and intimidating presence than that of the bouncer.

"Uh, no, sir. I was just taking care of these-"

"They're with me, Adrian. Let them go."

The bouncer immediately released them without another thought or word, then returned to his post near the entrance. He didn't give any of them a second glance.

Kurt's eyebrows shot up. "Wow. He must have a really important position or something. I thought you said he was a musician, Rogue."

"I . . . did." Rogue looked with amazement at her acquaintance. She now recalled his commanding air when he gave her the instructions regarding the envelope, but it was nothing at all compared to this.

Mr. Fenton stepped forward. "I am a musician. I just so happen to have Adrian in my debt. He acts like he has backbone, but he really doesn't. He's the stuff the average bully is made of. I am glad that you could make it, Miss Darkholme, along with your other friends."

"Well, I guess I am too. I – we've been anxious to see you again."

His eyes gave off that strange, omniscient glow as he smiled. "I'm sure you have."

"Well," said Kurt in his usual friendly manner. "Should we grab something to eat? I'm starved!"

Rogue stared at him. "Kurt, we had lunch a little before Logan brought us here. You shouldn't be hungry."

"But I am! And that was four hours ago! I need to keep up my metabolism."

Mr. Fenton chuckled. "Come, there's a little restaurant just a few blocks from here where we can talk. I'm sure you will be immensely satisfied, Mr. . . "

"Wagner. Kurt Wagner." He made sure to stress the German accent a bit more. There was no doubt that he was proud of his heritage.

"Ah, the same name as the great composer," noted the violinist.

"Hey, you listen to German composers?" Kurt grew more and more excited, making Rogue worried that he would explode.

"I do find his technique and style very interesting. Do you like to listen to classical music?"

"Well . . . sometimes, if it's really cool. I'm not too picky about what music's on, as long as I can stand it."

Suddenly, another man in a black and white tuxedo came up from behind Mr. Fenton. "Going somewhere, Fenton?"

The man's tone was cold and not too pleasant. The darkness that surrounded the musician earlier when he faced the bouncer returned, only he did not display his commanding presence. This time he was supposed to have the subservient role. However, he was not afraid as Adrian had.

He turned in the direction of his superior. "As a matter of fact, yes. I have an appointment with my friends here. Is there something you wish to speak to me about?"

The other man was unmoved. "I have no time for your sly comments, Fenton. Now please excuse yourself from your companies and come with me."

Mr. Fenton glanced over at the teens, then back to the other man. "Will this take long?" He seemed used to this kind of thing, and was not quick to let himself be pushed around.

"As long as it must," snarled the man. "The less of your smart-ass comments I have to hear, the less time this issue will take up. Now, if you please."

The man make a quick turn to his right and marched off, waiting for Mr. Fenton to follow. The latter seemed greatly unnerved and irritated. However, he remained courteous and gave his new acquaintances a polite nod. "If you will excuse me for just a moment. This wouldn't take long. As soon as I'm finished we will set off."

"Don't worry," Rogue assured him. "We'll be fine."

"I hope you're not in trouble," added Kitty in a concerned tone, which of late was becoming habitual.

"If I am, you need not worry. I've been in tighter messes." With that he walked in the path of the man who wished to speak with him.

"He must be the conductor," surmised Rogue. "They are the ones that the musicians have to answer to."

"You're probably right," said Kitty. "I wonder what he did."

"He didn't really seem like a nice guy," put in Kurt.

Rogue shot another look at him. "What? What's wrong with Mr. Fenton?"

"No, no, not him. I meant the conductor. Mr. Fenton's alright."

"Although he did seem pretty tough around Adrian and that other guy," Kitty noted again.

"Well duh," commented Rogue, "sure he didn't act too nice around them. Adrian was pushing us around and he had to stand up to him. And he and that conductor don't seem to be on the best of terms."

The group decided to wait near the main entrance. After about ten minutes, they were beginning to get anxious.

"I wonder what's taking them so long?" asked Kitty.

Kurt smiled a little. "Maybe Mr. Fenton keeps giving the conductor some 'smart-ass' comments. You know, it can be a bad habit."

"Yes, Kurt," responded Rogue, rolling her eyes toward him. "I know you've had a lot of experience with that."

Kurt shrugged. "Hey, what teen doesn't?"

After a few more minutes, Rogue finally said, "You know, I think I'll check on them. Just to see what's up."

"I don't know, Rogue," said Kitty in an apprehensive tone. "You really shouldn't bother them. What if they see you?"

"Don't get your skirt all twisted up. They're not gonna see me, I promise."

The other two thought about it. After a moment of silent conversing, Kurt said, "Well, I guess it's okay. Just don't disturb them if they're still talking. And above all, don't get caught."

"Hey," said Rogue, "do I look stupid to you?"

"Um . . .no?"

She groaned. "It was a rhetorical question."

Kurt looked puzzled. "A what?"

It was Kitty's turn to groan. "Oh Kurt!"

"While you explain it to him," instructed Rogue, "I'll find Mr. Fenton and the conductor."

So she left her two friends to themselves and wandered further onto the backstage. It had quieted down a lot since they first entered, although there were still quite a few people still around. But the confusion and madness had passed, and things were much more organized. Even so, Rogue had a bit of a difficult time finding the pair of tuxedo men. She kept wandering further and further backstage, peeking between the many curtains that were hanging around.

Finally, she heard the voice that she was pretty sure was the conductors. She only had heard him a few times, but the cold, disciplinary tone in his voice was unmistakable.

"Fenton, you're not here to give artist insight. You're here to play music, like everybody else. You think you know so much about music and theater and all that jazz. If you know so much, why don't you just build an opera house of your own?"

Fenton was silent. Rogue still couldn't see them, but the silence still felt bothersome and cold.

"While you're here, you have respects to pay to those who are above you, including me. I've put up with your snide comments for far too long. You think I don't know what you've been doing to the producers? You're the one who keeps coming up with all of these crazy ideas and schemes. Believe me, I'm not the only one who's getting tired of it. You need to let the managers do their job while you do yours, or you're going to find your sorry butt back on the street. You get my drift?"

"Is it my fault that the managers are so damn stubborn that they don't even realize what poor taste they have?"

"There you go again! It's none of your business! You're just a musician, Fenton, a poor musician who can't even keep his music in order! Just this week you managed to destroy your sheet music for nearly all of the violin score from 'The Marriage of Figaro.' I had to ask the managers for money to buy a new copy, and I ended up looking like a fool, as if it was my fault! Don't you get it, Fenton! You don't mean anything. You're insignificant. Stop thinking you are more than what you are."

Rogue's throat tightened up. This was partly her fault. If she hadn't bumped into Mr. Fenton, he wouldn't be in trouble for something he didn't even do. She was also furious at the way the conductor was treating him, that he was nothing more than a musician.

Man, I'd sure like to give that guy a piece of my mind!

"To be perfectly honest, Wilson, I pity your narrow-mindedness. It is a curse that seems to expose itself in many of our fellow men. You can only see the world for what it is, that there is nothing beyond what we already know or see. In truth, there is much more than you can possibly imagine. If I am, as you put it, insignificant, than we must all be doomed to the same label. Are we insignificant, even if we make a difference? Does it amount to anything? I often wonder why we are here in the first place, a world of evil and suffering. What is the point, really? Are some of us put here as some kind of joke to a being much greater than us? And yet, somehow, I do find purpose in my life. It is this – music. Somehow it has always been there, lasting through the centuries, even through the darkest ages. When I play the music, not just as music, but as something that is intrinsic to my life, my very being, it is hard to feel insignificant. Have you ever felt that way? Have you ever thought of music or anything else in that way? Yes, Wilson, I must admit that despite the woes I have suffered, I do truly pity you."

Rogue was awestruck. A musician and a philosopher? His tone had been caustic, yet had a certain ring of genuine understanding and sincerity in his profession. He used his convictions as a weapon against the conductor Wilson, his opponent. She could not even imagine how Wilson would respond.

She soon found out.

Finally, the point was reached.

"ENOUGH WITH YOUR DAMN INTELLECTUALISM! GET OUT OF MY SIGHT!"

"Gladly," replied Fenton calmly, then walked out from behind a curtain nearby. As Wilson proceeded to go on a rampage behind the curtain, Rogue and Fenton spotted each other.

"Miss Darkholme," he uttered, somewhat surprised. "What are you doing here?"

"I . . . I didn't mean to . . . well . . ."

Dammit, Rogue! You weren't supposed to get caught, remember? She tried to think of an excuse as fast as she could.

"I just . . . came looking for you. Really, just now."

Fenton placed his hand on his hip. "Miss, may I ask you something?"

She gulped. "Yes."

"How stupid do you think I am?"

She immediately felt her cheeks burning. She felt awful, and wished once more that she would disappear. But, of course, she didn't.

I've got to stop making that wish.

"Not at all," she finally replied. "I don't think you're stupid at all."

"I'm glad to here it." He approached her, looking her square in the face. She focused her eyes on the floor, not wanting to see his expression. Then, to her surprise, she felt his finger under her chin as he tipped her face up to his. She hadn't noticed he was wearing black gloves.

"Don't beat yourself up about it," he said in a quiet, calming voice. "You're looking at a professional eavesdropper. Tell me, did you think me unintelligent or in any way ignorant?"

Rogue didn't answer right away. She felt so confused as she stared at his eyes. There was something so strange and yet amazing about them that she couldn't put her finger on. Everything about his character seemed hidden, inscrutable, that she could only learn more about it a little bit at a time.

Realizing she hadn't answered him, she said, "I . . . I don't really know. I don't think so now, but before . . . the truth is, I don't know you that well. After all, we've only just met."

He gave her an understanding nod. "I have a habit of keeping myself at a distance so most cannot easily read my character like some open book." Then he added in a slightly sadder tone, "Trusting others is not one of my strong suits."

Rogue bit her lip, not knowing what to say. Then he added, "Do you know why I wanted to get to know you better?"

She shook her head slightly.

"Because you seem to be that way too."

She felt so awkward. What was wrong with her? She had this weird feeling in the pit of her stomach that she had the hardest time getting rid of. She had no idea what to do next, or what he was going to do next. They were just standing there, looking into each other's eyes, trying to figure the other person out.

At last, Mr. Fenton lowered his hand from her chin. She almost felt like she was being released from some spell. But she shook the thought off as soon as it came to her.

"Come. Your friends are probably worried about you. We should be heading off."

"Oh. Right." Quickly turning around, she with Fenton following went back the route by which she came, and they soon were back at the entrance. Kitty and Kurt were more than relieved.

"Man, where have you been?" cried Kurt. "I'm dying over here from hunger and torture by Kitty."

Kitty sighed. "We got bored and started playing little games, like trying to guess the tune of a song."

"Yeah, and now 'The Wheels on the Bus' song is stuck in my head. Can we please get going?"

Rogue smiled and rolled her eyes. "Sure. Are you ready, Mr. Fenton?"

"Quite. Let's go."

The group headed out of the area and exited the opera house, with Fenton politely holding the door open for them. As Rogue, the last one out, passed him, he whispered to her, "By the way, just call me Erik."

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Aaah, it's glad to know that one's work is appreciated. Of course, that usually only happens when readers REVIEW. So please, even if you're only passing by, please leave me one. It gets so lonely down here, in my little lair where I spend my time watching the special features on DVDs like PotO, Spider-man and Antz and writing stories. At least until my sister gets home from camp. Ehehehe. Well, see ya.