Disclaimer: Once again, Erik and other original POTO characters do not belong to me, I'm just borrowing them; any characters not from original POTO are mine. Thanks to all my reviewers, and again thanks to my sister for help with the French.

What choice did I have but to take my lawyer's advice? If that was what Marc Sacrois was truly going to be for me. It was certainly an odd thing, but perhaps he'd come in handy.

So I went over to talk to Bianca. She was deeply focused on her music. It was a song I didn't know, but one so deeply beautiful that I was immediately caught in it. She played her flute in the lower registers for most of the piece, but at the very end she took what I had begun to recognize as the chorus two octaves higher and then allowed it to die away, which only added to its beauty. Talent, I thought. Pure, undiscovered talent. She can play higher than Christine can sing, and if she had been in the opera's orchestra I could have added an entirely new level to Don Juan.

But why was I thinking this? I didn't worry about music and opera houses anymore. That part of my life was finished. I couldn't go back to it now.

And yet here was a talented musician, sitting right in front of me, who already said she wanted to be my 'friend'. And what of Marc? The singing, dancing lawyer? He must have some sort of talent, if not the sort I wanted. There were some days when I could practically hear my organ begging to be played. What I could do with Bianca's help!

"A franc, monsieur?" she asked, interrupting my thoughts. I tossed a coin into her case. She looked at me more closely.

"Erik?" she asked.

"Oui," I said. "You're very talented."

"I'm a street musician," I said. "None of us are anything special."

"Except you," I told her.

"How would you know?"

"I just would," I told her. I couldn't tell her the real reason, I couldn't get into my time at the opera house and my obsession with Christine. "I used to compose operas," I said, and left it at that.

"Operas," she repeated, sounding scared. "Not my style. Sorry."

"Why not?" I asked. "An hour ago you wanted to see me again. Now you don't. Why?"

"Because, Erik... I'm trying to work here. Earn some money."

"You could earn more if you worked for me." I knew it was wrong to dangle that in front of her. But now I was desperate.

"Non, merci," she said.

"Why, do you fear me?" I asked. "Are you another woman who will hate me for my face?" I could feel the rage building again. Damn you... you little prying Pandora... you little demon, this is what you wanted to see... curse you, you little lying Delilah... now you cannot ever be free...damn you... curse you...If there were ever any words I would have liked to take back, those are the ones. My bad temper, the thing that made Christine hate me when all I ever wanted was to love her. And maybe I had a chance then, before that outburst. I would not say these same words to Bianca. I would not have her run.

"No," she said, trembling. "But- Erik, come closer." I did. "There's a man."

"Your man?" I asked her.

"I have no man, not in that way. He's the kingpin of the streets. He calls himself Jemeau. He gets almost all of the money I earn this way. I can't escape because he runs everything on the streets. Drug dealers. Prostitution rings. Other musicians. He'll send his more loyal followers after me and they'll kill anyone who tries to protect me. They could be watching right now."

"Bianca, you say he gets almost all the money you make. How much does he leave you?"

"Enough for food. I've tried to save some, but I have to eat, Erik."

"So you can't get off of the streets."

"Are you crazy? Jemeau would burn down any building I tried to live in."

"You can't live this life forever, Bianca. What will you do when you're old?"

"I don't know what I'll do tomorrow, screw when I'm old."

"Then you need to get out of this life. Come to my apartment. I'm strong, I can protect you."

"You can protect me from burning buildings and hit men?"

"Yes," I said. "I've survived fires before, and I know a bit about them myself. And if I die... there is someone else."

"Who?"

"My lawyer, Marc Sacrois."

Her eyes bulged. "Sacrois?" she asked.

"Oui..." I said, not sure what she was trying to say.

"He's your lawyer? Erik, he's famous!"

"He is?"

"Yes! He was raised in a hovel on the left bank, got scholarships to the best boarding schools and universities, now he's a lawyer. Never lost a case. Everyone on the streets knows his name. Some people think he's the only one who can end Jemeau's reign of terror. How do you know him?"

"He lives in my building, but I never knew he was famous."

"You must have had your head under a rock your whole life, Erik," she said dismissively. "Yes, I'll come with you, I have to meet him!"

"Then you will," I said, calmly and a bit sadly. Marc had been right-- I was attracted. The only problem was that once again, a woman favoured someone else over me.