So sorry for not posting in a such a long time, but I've been really busy. I just went to my grandma's and then a little before that I went backpacking with my dad in New Hampshire. Tomorrow I'm heading off to the Cape with my friend for ten days so I won't be able to post again for a while.

Chapter Ten is coming up, which is good because it's the chapter in which Erik and Loralee meet (finally). Hope you enjoy this chapter, though, and please read and review!

MaskedDreamer

Chapter Eight: Christine's Dressing Room

Madame Giry bustled off through the hallways. Her mind was bursting with annoyance and anger. She had once cared for Erik but after seeing the horrors he caused during Christine's reign at the Opera House, she had lost all feelings of pity towards him. She could still remember Raoul's spirit shifting words.

"But clearly, Madame Giry, genius has turned to madness."

But now he deserved to be talked to.

She went through the hallways, glad she was wearing her completely black dress so that she could hide in the shadows easily. Her fast feet didn't even seem to touch the ground as she speed through hallways and empty rooms. Finally she found herself entering the large and dusty room that no one had been in for a while.

Christine Daae once had this room as her own dressing room but then left after the dreadful night of Don Juan Triumphant. She and Raoul fled to the French countryside in hope of a peaceful life and have so far gotten what they wished for. Now, it seemed, Erik was connected to the shy and abused girl, Loralee Donoghue, even though he had no idea of it.

It was quite obvious from the Madame Giry's view. Ever since Loralee had that night when she had a run in with Erik, Erik had been out and about much more than normal. Whenever she saw him in the catwalks or Box 5 she always saw him paying the mere chorus girl quite a bit of attention compared to the others.

And now he was going about and making his presence known to the Opera Populaire.

She had to stop this nonsense.

Hesitating a little, Madame Giry slowly walked over to the mirror, inactivating the mechanism she had not used for so long. Soon the mirror slightly slipped open, enough so that she could hook her fingers around it and slide it open even more. She did so until it was wide enough for her to slip into. Then, very quickly, she shut the mirror and scurried off down the passage ways, unaware of the girl who entered the room just after she disappeared behind the mirror.

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Loralee had gotten her black cloak, pulled it on, and disappeared into the shadows of the Opera House. Giggling members from the corps de ballet walked by her without noticing the black clad figure with a pale white face. Many others also did the same, even the two managers. Being so accustomed to the Opera House's shadows, doors, and hallways by now, it didn't take long for Loralee to catch up to Madame Giry.

Madame Giry, too, was walking silently in the shadows.

Why is she being so secret? she thought, curious.

Soon Madame Giry stopped in front of a large and old dressing room. With a shock, Loralee realized which one it was.

The door was large and colored a deep pink. Letters were almost peeled and faded off but she could still see the person who last owned that room.

Christine Daae!

Madame Giry looked around her once more to see if anyone was with her but her eyes just flew right over Loralee's form in the shadows. None the less, she held her breath, buried her head in the cloak so her black hair would hide her pale white face, and pressed against the wall harder. Then, after taking a deep breath, Madame Giry stepped into the room.

After waiting a few seconds, Loralee went over and peeked inside of Christine's dressing room. Happily, Loralee noticed the floors were dusty and it was easy to see the path that Madame Giry had taken throughout the room.

As she was about to put her head around the whole of the door she heard a faint "click!" from the other side of the room.

Heart beating ten times the normal time, Loralee pulled her head back from the crack in the door and waited a few more minutes before entering the room.

Loralee stepped in Madame Giry's footprints to hide all possible clues of her being there. She also held the cloak close to her body so it wouldn't swish up any dust or drag on the floor like it usually did. Stepping lightly, Loralee made her way farther and farther into the long and narrow room. Her eyes adjusted quickly to the dark and she was able to soon see a large mirror much like the one in her room loom ahead of her. The only thing was that this mirror was much larger than Loralee's because of the vast wall.

Loralee was almost nose to nose with the mirror when she stepped on Madame Giry's second to last foot print. The last one she didn't dare stand on because it was only the front of the foot, much like the position of the foot when you're pushing up off from the ground and stepping on something higher with the other foot.

But what would Madame Giry step up onto? There was only a mirror in front of her so unless she was trying to get a better look of herself in the top of the mirror by standing up really strange, there was nothing she could have done.

Then she understood. The mysterious glances and quiet footsteps, the "click", and the pushed off foot.

This mirror must be a hidden door into some secret part of the Opera House.

Looking around from the second to last footstep she searched for a secret mechanism to use to open up the mirror. From what she could see, there was no funny looking knot of wood on the wall or ground, no interestingly laid out gold part of the mirror border, absolutely nothing that was a sign of getting through.

Loralee looked for about an hour more but didn't find anything. She was so engrossed with finding it and trailing her fingers on the frame that she almost didn't notice footsteps in the distance behind the mirror.

Madame Giry was coming back!

Now only one thought was flying through Loralee's head. Get out! Get out before she catches you, you careless hog!

Turning around, Loralee fled, leaping from one of Madame Giry's footprints to another. When she was near the door, though, her foot failed her and she went toppling side ways. Flinging out her arms, Loralee managed to break her fall by grabbing onto a stray chair. Not caring now if her foot prints or signs of her there were shown or not, Loralee let her cloak go and ran all out and through the door.

Little did she know that Madame Giry could see from behind her mirror, a flick of her black cloak.

At first Madame Giry thought it was yet again The Phantom, but then she realized how foolish that would have been. He wouldn't have been so clumsy and more likely just stepped into the shadows to hide. She also was just talking to him back at his lair and it was impossible for him to pass her at that speed. . . Isn't it?

But no, it wasn't him. She stepped out of the mirror and walked along out and through the room. As she neared the door, though, she saw a dash of clean floor sticking out from her perfectly left footprint and then numerous careless and quick footsteps from that slip and out of the door as if the person were in a hurry. Looking over, she also saw a small hand print on a chair and much unsettled dust still floating about in the air.

Some one had seen her. That black cape was the person running away from her.

Then the black cloak came to register and she quickened her footsteps to Loralee Donoghue's room.

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"Loralee!"

Loralee, who was just taking off her black cloak and lighting a candle, jumped and nearly dropped the lit match. Luckily she managed to contain herself enough to light the candle and then blow the match out before walking over to the now heavily pounded on door.

"Loralee Donoghue, open this door at once!"

Loralee quickly opened the door and shoved Madame Giry inside, closing the door quickly.

"Don't shout out that name!" Loralee hissed at the ballet mistress, her face pale as she looked around the room as if there was someone inside who heard.

Madame Giry was surprised at the girls unusual and rather rash actions and it took her awhile to recover from the shock and adjust to the dark room. She could barely find Loralee who was still in her black cloak and easily melted into the shadows of her small room.

"Loralee Donoghue, did you follow me into Christine Daae's dressing room? Was it you?"

Loralee gulped. So she found out. There was no point in lying now. She lowered her head in shame and embarrassment.

"Yes ma'am. I'm sorry. I know it wasn't my place."

"Your right it wasn't your place! You should not go sneaking after people like. . . like a shadow!"

Madame Giry was about to say "Like Erik" but just caught herself.

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry isn't good enough in this situation," Madame Giry said. "Promise me you'll never speak of this to anyone and you will not ever follow anyone again."

"I promise-"

"Look me in the eye!" Madame Giry snapped. Loralee gulped but none the less steadily looked up into Madame Giry's eyes.

"I promise I will keep my mouth shut and never sneak after anyone including you, Madame."

"Good. Now get some rest."

Madame Giry turned to leave and Loralee took off her cloak. When Madame Giry got to the door, though, she turned back around to face Loralee.

"Loralee, if possible, forget these past few days. It was a dream, nothing more. Don't listen to the corps de ballet and their drunken twitter and don't pay attention to any. . . signs."

Then she was gone.

Sighing, Loralee hung the cloak up and pulled out her night gown. After getting dressed and getting her pointe shoes, Loralee went off to dance through dinner and well into the night, fighting away all the memories with every graceful step she took.

She had almost successfully gotten the strange memories out of her head for that night but when she returned to her room, washed her face, and was about to go to bed with wonderful dreams, her eyes got hold of a sight which made her stomach flip, her heart stop, and the memories flood back.

There on her vanity sat a perfect red rose with a black ribbon tied to the stem, the edges of the fine satin flowing off the table. Next to the rose was a letter.

Going over, now fully awake, Loralee read the note.

Listen to Madame Giry. It's for your own good to forget the past. Put it behind you and move forward. But please, keep dancing; it thrills me to watch you.

O.G.