Disclaimer- Once again, I do not own any original Phantom characters. I don't know how far back Erik's life has ever been explained before, but this is my take on it. I do know that it's decidedly different from Laroux's book, but it fits with the movie fairly well. And yes, I realize that 'LaNez' is one of the weirdest names ever, but if you'll read my other fanfic, you will see at some point what an inside joke it is. Without further adieu...

Bianca has been with me for almost two weeks now. Her presence has taken some getting used to (I am no longer comfortable walking through my flat shirtless, for example) but for the most part things have been pleasant. I introduced her to Marc, but he seems thoroughly uninterested in her. Oh, he's friendly enough, that's his way, but he refuses to flirt. I see him sometimes in front of the door to Elsa's flat, just waiting. I can tell that this behaviour hurts Bianca, but I can do nothing, nor do I even want to. Anybody can feel heartbreak and longing. She at least has the beauty with which to someday find love.

One morning she met me at breakfast and asked something quite interesting: "What's your last name, Erik?"

I nearly choked on my croissant. "I don't know," I answered.

"You went all this time with no name?" she asked. I nodded and she continued: "Even I know mine, and I had no use for it on the streets."

"Did you know your parents, Bianca?"

"Oui," she said. "They died in a fire when I was six."

"I'm sorry to hear that," I said.

"I have my memories, though," she said. "Maman taught me how to play the flute. Pere taught me how to throw a punch. It was very useful when they were gone."

"And their names were?"

"Philippe and Blanche LaNez."

"Your last name is LaNez?" I asked, barely containing my laughter.

"Oui," she said, shrugging. "I don't understand it either."

"Well, I did not have the luck you did, Bianca. I grew up with a bunch of travelling gypsies, none of whom were my parents. Most them treated me terribly, but there was one, an old fortune-teller, Madame Ufana, who treated me kindly. She was the one who had first brought me into the caravan."

"And?"

"And what?" I asked.

"Did she ever know anything about your parents?"

"She told me that my mother left me with the gypsies just as she was dying."

"That's awful," she said. "And you never knew your name?"

"Erik was supposedly the name my mother had given to me, but my last name- never."

She shook her head. "We could try to find out," she said. "There are records, I'm sure."

"Of what?" I asked.

"Births, deaths."

"Among the Gypsies?"

"But your mother probably wasn't a Gypsy," she said thoughtfully, "so there's a better chance that something will be there."

"Hey, Bianca?" I asked. "Why do you care so much?" The fact that she did was incredible attractive to me.

"Why wouldn't I?" she asked, her eyes meeting mine. "You've been so good to me."

"Oh," I said. I didn't know what to say other than that. All of what she had just said had been said so seductively and I didn't know how to react. Could I trust that sort of voice? Could anyone? I remembered Christine's voice of passion, the voice that was all a lie... "I have come here, hardly knowing the reason why, in my mind I've already imagined our bodies entwining defenceless and silent, now I am here with you, no second thoughts, I've decided, decided..." I remembered how that fake seduction ruined me-- when Bianca used this voice, could it really be sincere? Could she really care?

"Where could we find such records?" I asked her, feeling short of breath.

"Marc might know," she said hopefully.

"Of course," I said, coldly, quietly, bringing our conversation to a halt. You were right, Erik, I thought as I walked back to my bedroom. Never trust a seduction voice.

Note: LaNezthe nose