Remember how I said that chapter fifteen was the middle of the story - meaning that there are thirty chapters not including the epilogue? Well, I just figured out that I accidentally skipped "Chapter Twenty One" and called this chapter "Chapter Twenty Two". So I guess there will now be only twenty nine chapters (not including the epilogue). Sorry!

Ethalas Tuath'an: Hmm, yes, Vincent did turn into a slight threat. Read the rest of my story and you might find out when the confrontation is (hint: not any time soon).

PhantomLover05: Lol! Have you got him yet?

Carkeys: Simple and encouraging - I love it! Thanks for the review.

Phantoms' Lobo: Ha! I feel like I'm making a "I Hate Vincent The Silly Fop Fan club"! I agree with you - Vincent is stupid and very selfish. Thanks so much for the review!

Passed Over: First of all, don't worry! I didn't get your review multiple times. Second of all, I feel so honored! That is because I'm the first person you reviewed and all the compliments you made. Third of all, thanks so much for the comments you made on what I should improve - they're really insightful. In this particular story I'm most likely not going to change anything because I've already written the whole thing, but if I write again hopefully they'll help then. Thanks so much for it all! And don't worry - I'm not planning on "pooping out" on the end. The story has about eight more chapters after this one, so I'm not sure if that's good or bad news to you. School is coming up so I might not post a chapter daily then, but I hope I'll keep up my daily schedule. Thanks so much again for the review!

AngelicFlutist: Ooh! Cookies! Thank you so much! For that you get another hug! Thanks so much for the review!

Chapter Twenty One: Why Me?

"Hello Rosemary!"

"Ah! Beth! You're back!"

"Yes, I just came by to say hello."

"Well, it's nice of you to drop by."

Loralee hugged Rosemary Richmond, the ballet shop owner, and then sat down to talk with her.

"So how's George Thompson doing?"

Rosemary blushed and giggled, covering her mouth with her hand.

"Well, we're going out to dinner again tonight."

"Really!"

"Yes! And then the he invited me to the Masquerade."

Loralee's brows knit together.

"Masquerade? I never heard of any Masquerade going on in Paris."

"You haven't!" Rosemary exclaimed, shocked at her friend's minor knowledge. "My dear, I thought you'd be the one to know what's going on at the Opera House."

"Opera House? The Opera Populair is holding the Masquerade?"

"Yes!"

Loralee looked shocked that she hadn't heard about it. Being the ballet mistress, she'd have guessed she'd be informed about such an occasion. Or maybe at least Erik would have heard about it and told her.

"Tell me about it," Loralee said to Rosemary who immediately brightened up, glad to be gossiping about the latest ball to her friend.

"It's next Saturday starting at six. Everyone can come if they have a mask and it's to be held in the great hall." She giggled and got a serious look on her face. "I just hope the Phantom of the Opera doesn't come this time."

"He came to the last one?" Loralee asked, surprised.

"Yes. He came and gave his opera 'Don Juan Triumphant' to the managers, and then took away Christine Daae's engagement ring."

"Oh, he must have come especially for Christine," Loralee said more to herself in understanding. Rosemary nodded.

"But his costume!" she exclaimed. "It was of the Red Death and brought chills to everybody. The skull mask looked so real. . ."

Rosemary trailed off, shivering with memories. Loralee just hugged her friend.

"Thank you for telling me, Rosemary. Now I just have to find someone to go with!"

Rosemary seemed to forget all about the Phantom and instead looked at her friend happily.

"Ah! I should like to hear who you wish to go with! Has anyone asked you?"

"No one has asked me but I have a feeling someone might. . ." Loralee said, not too happy. The face of Vincent immediately lit up her mind, but she almost gagged at the thought of dancing with him.

"Who?" Rosemary asked.

"Monsieur Vincent Badeau."

"You mean Monsieur Edward Badeau's son?"

Loralee only nodded, still having no idea who Vincent's father was.

"My god, Loralee, you are so lucky! The man's wealthy, kind, and such the lady's gentleman. How in the world do you know him."

"He came to ask if I could dine with him after the Opera production four days ago." Rosemary was smiling happily at her friend but Loralee looked at her glumly. "To be frank, I don't like Vincent at all. He's too naive and doesn't take no for an answer."

"You. . . you mean that he. . . he raped you?" Rosemary asked, appalled. Loralee's eyes just widened and she shook her head violently.

"What? No! No, he would never do such a thing! He just doesn't seem to notice my attempt to get away from his boyish self and always presumes I want to go to dinner with him."

"Have you?"

"No," said Loralee, glad she could say such an answer. "Luckily I haven't. I've managed to get out of the past two times he's asked me. In fact, if I wanted to, I could have been out dinning with him right now instead of getting all that stuff," Loralee said, motioning to Erik's items besides her on the floor. Rosemary looked at them, curious.

"What are those for, anyway?"

"They're for a friend of mine who is sick. He sends me out to get them."

"I see."

Just then Meg Giry came into the shop. Rosemary jumped up and embraced Meg.

"Ah, Meg! It's so good to see you! You must know Beth McLay, then."

"Oh, Loralee is that you?"

Loralee stared at her friend with shock and fright.

"Meg-" she started saying but then Meg found out what she just said and covered her mouth with her had, eyes bulging.

"Oh my. . . I honestly didn't mean too! I just. . . It was an accident! Please forgive me!"

Loralee ignored Meg, though, and looked at Rosemary fearfully. Rosemary was staring at Loralee shocked, and then she came forward and knocked down Loralee's hood.

"Meg, you must be mistaken. This is not what Hector Chaffee described to me as the woman he was looking for. Remember? Loralee Donoghue has black hair, not blonde."

Loralee got up and put a hand on Rosemary's shoulder.

"Rosemary, promise me that everything we tell you right now you will not speak of to any other person."

Rosemary just stared at Meg and Loralee's serious faces, gulped, and nodded. Loralee let out a sigh of relief and then turned to Meg.

"And how in the world did you know who I really was?"

"I came in that one dreadful evening and saw your washing basin full of blood. My mother then came in and told me everything. I'm so sorry Loralee."

"Can someone tell me what's going on?" Rosemary said, staring at the two as if they were lunatics. Loralee turned to face her.

"Yes, well, I guess we have to. Rosemary, I am the woman Hector Chaffee is looking for. I wear this wig for protection when I go out into Paris." Loralee demonstrated her point by taking off her wig and showing her black hair tied back in a tight bun. Rosemary gasped, hand covering her mouth.

"Hector came in about three months ago saying that if I ever saw a girl with long black hair, pale skin, blue eyes, and with the name Loralee Donoghue, immediately report her to him. Supposedly you got captured and he's searching secretly for your whereabouts. He doesn't want that many people to know because he doesn't want his noble status to go down."

"Sounds like Hector," Loralee sighed, putting the wig back on. "I was young when we first met. He was the perfect gentleman who won my heart over almost instantly with his proper and kind ways. He asked me to marry him and I agreed, becoming his fiancé. Then things changed. I was out for a walk one night and I saw him with a whore at a bar, terribly drunk. He saw me out in the street and then said I was not acting as the proper fiancé. I should be safe back at home and minding my own business. That night, I guess, he found his love for spirits and alcohol, so he became drunk almost everyday, beating me. It was a week before the wedding when I took my chances and ran away from him. Meg found me and took me in to get a place in the Opera Populaire. I made up the name Beth McLay, and most people know me by that name now."

Rosemary took a while to accept this information and digest it. Then she looked at Loralee with pity which made Loralee rather uncomfortable.

"I will not tell a soul about you, don't worry. We are still friends. I owe you everything for getting me together with George."

Loralee and Meg breathed out in relief. Then Meg turned to Loralee.

"Out of curiosity, Loralee, how many people know about you're real name."

Loralee thought for a while.

"Only the two of you, Madame Giry, Hector, and Er- I mean, my friend."

"You mean the one you do all the chores for?" Rosemary asked, nodding to the boxes. Loralee nodded, glad she wouldn't ask more questions about about her so called sick friend. Meg new better, though, and secretly winked to Loralee.

They talked comfortably to each other for the next few minutes before Loralee finally looked at the time.

"Blimey! Is that the time! I best be off. My friend is expecting me now. Good night!"

And before either could reply, Loralee had pulled up her hood over her wig and picked up the boxes, rushing off to her room.

Entering the Opera Populaire, Loralee first went to put away the wig. Then she hurried to the room but was stopped when she got near to her door.

"Loralee!"

Loralee turned around, startled at who was speaking and who knew her name. She turned to come face to face with Hector.

"Hector, get away from me!" she yelled, running down the hallway. Hector followed her.

"Get back here you wench and act respectfully towards you fiancé."

"Are you too thick to notice, Hector, that I broke off our engagement long ago. I gave you back my ring and ran off."

She turned back around and started off down a different hallway, away from her room. She was stopped by Hector's hand on her arm, swinging her around.

"Listen, little whore, I-"

"I am not a whore!" Loralee hissed to him. His face was red with anger, but anger was also in Loralee, making her unafraid of Hector's threatening form. Hector grabbed her hair and pulled her head up to meet his, his other arm crushing her wrist. She fought to hold onto Erik's supplies, willing them not to drop.

"How dare you speak when-"

"Monsieur!"

Hector and Loralee looked towards the person speaking. Madame Giry was at the end of the hallway, looking threatening, her hand clutching her black pole tightly. Hector reluctantly let go of Loralee who immediately rushed over to Madame Giry.

"I'm sorry, Madame, but she was upsetting me."

"That doesn't mean you can violate her harshly as you have shown multiple times before, Monsieur. If you ever come back here, I swear I shall call the cops on you. Now get out!"

Loralee was even chilled by Madame Giry's voice. It was cold as ice and sent off warning signs in both Hector and Loralee's minds. Hector nodded to Madame Giry reluctantly before turning around and storming out of the Opera House.

Madame Giry's grip on her pole lessened when Hector's footsteps disappeared. She turned to Loraee, a worried look on her face.

"Are you all right?"

"Yes, I'm fine. He didn't do much, and luckily I didn't drop Erik's supplies."

Then Madame Giry went pale.

"Loralee, follow me."

Curious, Loralee followed Madame Giry down different hallways. Finally they stopped in front of Christine Daae's old dressing room. Madame Giry looked around for any intruding Opera Populaire members before opening the door and slipping inside, beckoning Loralee to do the same. Once inside Madame Giry, shut the door quickly.

"This is one of the only ways I know how to get to Erik."

"Why didn't you just go to my room and wait a little," asked Loralee, confused. "He was going to come and get these supplies ten minutes ago."

They entered through the mirror before Madame Giry turned to Loralee.

"Erik got a sudden fever. I'm not sure how, but he's burning up and can't get out of his bed. I'm bringing you down so you can give him his supplies and then take care of him."

"Why me?" Loralee asked. The thought of Erik lying on the bed in pain brought tears to her eyes. No man like him deserved such sudden punishment for nothing. She longed to go down besides him and calm and soothe him.

"Isn't it obvious?" Madame Giry said. "You love him."