A/N: Ok, I'm continuing at last! I'm almost finished now... slight Christine 'bashing' in this chapter. Hehe! Enjoy it...

Chapter Twelve

One Year Later

Paris Opera House, 1885

Ellisa had returned to her childhood home at last. Smiling widely as she hurried up the wide steps, she called out to the doorman in surprised recognition.

"Roberto! You are still here, then?" Roberto looked up in surprise as he recognised the young woman in from of him, but only just. In her year with the travelling orchestra Ellisa had changed considerably. She now looked less like the little girl she had used to be and more like the woman she would one day become.

"Ellisa!" He bowed, and kissed her fingertips. "How goes it?" Ellisa laughed merrily.

"Well. And for you? How was the masquerade ball last month?" Roberto's cheer vanished as she mentioned the fateful occasion. Lowering her voice, he spoke to her.

"Bad business, Ellisa, very bad business." Roberto looked around nervously, his young face slightly fearful. He lowered his voice further, so that Ellisa had to lean towards him to hear. "You see," he whispered, "the Phantom turned up!" Ellisa jerked up at this.

"What?" She exclaimed, not bothering to keep her voice down. "The Phantom? Are you sure?"

"Shh, shh!" Roberto silenced her, his face pale. "Yes! Did you not hear about the chandelier crashing down, and Carlotta losing her voice? He has been very busy this past year, it seems." Ellisa stared at her childhood friend in shock.

"I heard about the chandelier, yes, and Carlotta's 'co-ack' – how could anyone fail to? – but what makes you think it was… him?" Roberto sighed heavily, clearly enjoying telling the tale despite his fear.

"Why, because just before the chandelier fell we heard his voice and he cried she is singing to bring down the chandelier! And down it fell, right on the head of Monsieur Richard's – he's one of the new managers, arrived about four months after you left – concierge! Bad business, very bad business…"

Ellisa looked around despairingly.

"But why did he drop the chandelier on that poor woman?" Roberto gave her another surprised look.

"Why, because the managers would not put Christine Daaé in the leading role!" Ellisa looked oddly put out by this, and expressed it in her words. She remembered Christine from the corps de ballet, an annoyingly pretty and popular girl, though she could not remember her being able to hold a tune with any great skill. Ellisa had never had many friends in the ballet, but on the other hand she had spent most of her time with Erik, and now she felt faintly betrayed.

"Daaé? A chorus girl?" Roberto looked surprised at her harsh reaction.

"Why, yes, did you not hear of her triumph at the gala when Debienne and Poligny left? She was incredible! And come, Ellisa, you are hardly one to scoff: a ballet dancer who joined the orchestra!"

Ellisa sighed, and nodded.

"Yes, alright. So… the Bal Masque?" Roberto grinned, picking up his story once more.

"Yes, he turned up, and announced to everyone that he had written an opera, and that it must be performed, or else he would cause a disaster even worse than the first one of the chandelier! And that Christine Daaé was to be put in the lead role! It is an awful piece of music, not at all operatic… Don Juan Triumphant, he called it!"

Ellisa swallowed nervously.

"And has it been performed yet?" Roberto shook his head, once more seeming surprised at her lack of knowledge. It made Ellisa feel very alienated from the place she had once called home.

"No, the first performance is tonight… oh, I highly doubt I'll be opening the door for too many people once word has got round of how awful it is!"

Ellisa bit her lip distractedly. Roberto, being the nosy, gossipy type, noticed this immediately.

"Why? What's wrong, Ellisa? Not jealous of our little Christine, are you?" Ellisa immediately shot him an icy look.

"Don't be ridiculous." She lied flatly. She was jealous of Christine, but not for the reasons Roberto thought.

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Ellisa immediately hurried down to her old room, hoping that, somehow Erik would have left her something there… a message perhaps, or one of his red roses… anything, a sign to show that he had not forgotten her, but there was nothing to be found.

After her fruitless search Ellisa sank down onto her bed, which had been ready made for her arrival. Well, at least somebody had remembered about her.

The year she had spent with the touring orchestra had opened Ellisa's eyes to much more than just matters of music. She had dallied with young gentlemen, and had even let one of the nicer oboe players kiss her like lovers do behind the stage of one venue. One boy, this time a violinist, had even spoken to her of marriage, but she had shied away when she realised that he would never fulfil her.

Her experiences had been crazy, exciting, and the boys had all been charming and attractive, but for some reason when she kissed them all she could see was a man in a white mask, staring at her, accusing her.

It had taken her a year to realise it, but at last she had admitted to herself what had been self-evident to everyone, even her poor father: she had loved Erik.

And now she was ready to return to him, to give herself to him, but it seemed she was too late. Too late by far.

But what really hurt was that, whilst he had never lifted a finger to help her career, he had written an entire opera for vain Christine Daaé.

And so, betrayed and confused, she slumped down on her pillows and began to cry, her tears those of anger and her sobs those of bitter jealousy.

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A/N: Stupid Erik! Next chapter swiftly on its way.