A/N: I just want to thank everyone for all the offers of help. Should I choose to include more french, I will check with someone. K.G. did I really choose your surname? That's awesome. Plus, I really think that Erik would just be a naturally good kisser...well Gerik anyways. Thanks for reviewing. I love you all. On with it.

Hours later, while his SUV sat idling outside the theater, he pondered he unmasking. Yes, she had done to him what he considered the worst kind of betrayal, but…she didn't run from him. Aside from the pity, she didn't look at him any differently.

When she tried to apologize, he'd pushed her away. Made her cry. Life was truly unfair. Why should he be feeling guilty when she had stripped away all of his defenses? After he'd made a point of asking, no, telling her to not touch it.

Maybe she was different. Maybe, just maybe she'd be able to see the man behind the mask.

He was frightened. The lessons would probably end. If not because of his face, then because of the way he acted. He was quite certain he couldn't bear that.

Erik, understandably, didn't attend the show that night, at least to Christine's knowledge. There was no rose in her dressing room, as there had been for every performance. The show was not her best.

Dejectedly, Christine headed back toward her room after the show. Ryan intercepted her. He was persistent she would give him that. Every night he offered to take her out, and every night she'd refused. Tonight was no different.

"How about a late supper Chris? Anywhere you want." Christine sighed, but looked at her other options. Go have dinner with Ryan, or go home. Alone. Even more alone than she had been 24 hours ago. Really, she didn't want to be alone tonight.

"Okay, sure Ryan." He led her out to his sleek red sports car.

Erik hid in his box. He did not wish to interact with anyone beyond the usher. Unable to watch her sing, he merely sat back, and listened. She sang poorly. Anger filled him. She could sing much better than this. It was appalling. He chanced a look at her. A certain glow was lacking tonight. The glow she got from performing in front of an audience. The glow of doing what she loved, and what made her happy.

Had he stolen it from her? Perhaps he'd overreacted. It was, after all, human nature to be curious. Watching her perform the finale with a false smile on her face was nearly painful. He did not stand when they'd finished…neither did anyone else, nor did he clap. He stood and slipped out of the box. A need to see her grew within him. He hoped she'd still want to see him.

Slipping into the shadows once more, he watched the patron approach her. Then much to his dismay, he watched her leave with him. Blinking back tears, he sank to the floor.

"I gave her everything. My music, her voice…my heart," he whispered to himself. "Now she's left with that…that…" He had no words. Finally he stood, and took his leave. Meg Giry watched as the man practically dragged himself out of the building…alone.

Once Christine and Ryan had arrived at the restaurant, Christine came to the conclusion that perhaps she did want to be alone, or at least, not with Ryan. His constant self-centered babbling started to wear on her nerves.

"I'm sorry, Ryan, I just don't think I'm suitable company for anyone tonight," she interrupted.

"What's the matter Chris?" Ryan took her hand in his.

"My performance was disgraceful. I'd just rather go home."

"You sang great, Chris. As usual." He gave her a warm smile.

"No, I was completely off on parts."

"Who cares about a few notes?" He shrugged.

"I do." Erik does. She pushed back from the table. "I'm sorry. I'm just going to go."

"I'll take you." He started to rise.

"No, its okay. It's just a block away. Finish your meal. Goodnight Ryan, thank you." Before he could say another word, she left. The brisk air made her walk faster. She could see the white of her car gleam. Someone grabbed her arm. A scream caught in her throat as she spun around.

"Meg, you scared me half to death."

"Sorry. What's wrong?"

"Uh…" Christine took a deep breath, "nothing."

"Where's Erik?" Christine's gaze faltered.

"I don't know." Meg's brows pulled together.

"Didn't he find you?"

"He didn't come tonight."

Meg shook her head. "Yes, he did. I saw him not too long ago."

"You couldn't have. It must have been someone else."

"It was him, Chris. Mask and all." Christine tensed at the word mask. "He was sitting on the floor. I thought he was waiting for you."

"When was that?"

"A little while after the curtain."

"I'm sure he's left by now."

"What happened?" Tears sat in the corners of Christine's eyes.

"Oh, Meg. I did something awful. He must hate me now."

"Well I very much doubt that. What did you do?"

Christine's eyes lowered. "His mask, I took it off. He asked me not to touch it."

"Christine," Meg hardly ever used her full name, "I'm sure he doesn't hate you. Obviously he was looking for you." Christine's head shook.

"You didn't see him. He was angry, upset."

"Well, I think he was allowed to be. He'll get over it. Give it time."

Christine opened her car door. "When did you say you saw him?"

"I'd just finished getting out of costume."

"Oh no." He'd probably seen her leave with Ryan. Why did that make her feel ill?

"What?" Not hearing her Christine got in her car, leaving Meg on the sidewalk.