Disclaimer: I own Gabrielle. That's all. Nothing's changed

Sorry that my chapters are so short...they get longer later. Right now, I'm trying to debate on an ending, seeing as I have first drafts written for almost every chapter except the last one. Happy ending? Sad ending? SEQUEL! Oh, the possibilities!

Thanks kristinekat13, and Rancid Melody for reviewing the last chapter.

The night arrived where Gabrielle was finally to make her public debut. She sat in the dressing room, biting her lip and staring at herself in the mirror. Her long dark hair was out of its usual queue, which was often the only way she would leave it. Now that it was down, it framed her face differently, and rendered her usually plain face nearly unrecognizable.

"Oh, you look absolutely mortified," Meg said, siting down next to her.

"Do I look all right?" she asked shakily.

"Absolutely," Meg said, smiling encouragingly.

"Honestly?" Gabrielle asked, turning her head to a few other angles, trying to look at her reflection from every side.

"You're absolutely gorgeous," Meg said. Then, she picked the blossom of a flower in a vase and tucked it into Gabrielle's hair. "For luck."

Gabrielle stood up and walked over to the stage entrance. Her entire performance seemed to pass in a blur. She could feel her face burning the whole time, and hardly could concentrate on singing, only on wondering whether or not her face looked like a ripe apple to the audience.

She was knocked out of this humbling stupor when she realized that the room had broken into applause. She smiled and took her bows, gracefully avoiding being hit by the flowers being thrown onstage to her. They had most definitely heard her this time. She had done well. But most of all, she was proud of having finally fulfilled her father's dream for her, even if just once.

Following the performance of Hannibal, the entire cast and the audience met in the lobby, where the musicians had situated themselves. Immediately, Gabrielle found herself being whisked around the entire dance floor, being presented with flowers every way she turned, and practically deafened by voices speaking congratulations and compliments.

"Tell me," said a familiar voice behind her as she felt someone tuck a small flower behind her ear, "Can you still spare a dance for your uncle now that you've become a prima donna?"

Gabrielle whirled around and squealed ecstatically. "Uncle Raoul! How did you—"

"I take a very special interest in the goings-on here at the Opera Populaire," he laughed, offering his arm for a dance.

"Oh," she said with smile, accepting his arm. "Well, I suppose this is the first truly interesting thing that has come out of this Opera House in quite a while,"

"You never told me you were so talented," he said as they began twirling and waltzing about the room. "How come?"

"I…" Gabrielle said. In that slight moment's pause, she decided that it was the time to begin being honest with him. "I wasn't ready for anyone else to know until now, I supposed. My father and I kept it a bit of a secret."

"You must have had quite a time trying to hide a voice like yours," he laughed, a gesture which Gabrielle performed as well. "I'm proud of you, you know." he pointed out.

"I'm rather proud of myself as well," she giggled. "And I'm glad you decided to come and watch."

They were not aware that they were being watched from above, up in a balcony, by Madame Giry, who received the night mixed emotions.

"A moment of your time, Giry." a voice said behind her.

"Erik…" she said, not needing to turn around. "I assume you were present for Mademoiselle Clairmont's performance tonight."

"Obviously." he replied shortly. "Why, may I ask, is the young Mademoiselle dancing with…Monsieur le Vicomte?" he said, spitting the last words out in disdain as he surveyed the scene below them as well. "I believe she is my pupil, and a such has no need to continue cavorting with the likes of him."

"She has refused your tutelage," she said carefully. "Can you not just let her be? She isn't Christine. She does not need an Angel of Music."

"WHAT, I repeat," he said through gritted teeth, "Is she doing with Monsieur le Vicomte?"

"You said it yourself. Dancing," Giry said. She could sense his annoyance with her response. "He's her uncle, Erik, the only family she has."

"I see," he replied, nodding in a token gesture of his comprehension. "Well, he oughtn't be giving her any ideas, even if they are family."

"I implore you, don't make any appearances here tonight. Give her, at the very least, one night's peace." Giry pleaded.

"We shall see," he said. And with that, he was gone.

Meanwhile, even now, Gabrielle and her uncle were still dancing, engaged in amusing conversation as though he had known her for her entire life.

"A talented singer, and now you're dancing." Raoul laughed. "You haven't stepped on my foot, even once. So, you're a dancer now? Tell me, do you fly as well?"

"I can't say I've tried," she giggled as the music stopped, and the guests began to leave. Gabrielle walked with her uncle to the door.

"So, you're doing well here?" he asked. "There have been no…problems, then?"

"Problems? No, none at all!" Gabrielle said matter-of-factly. "Everyone here is so wonderful, I'm actually glad I came."

"I'm glad to hear it." he said. "Adieu, then." He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek, whispering in her ear, "I believe you've always been my favorite niece."

"I'm your only niece," she laughed as he walked out the door. She stayed there and waved to him as he rode away in the coach. "Good night!" she yelled after him. As soon as he was out of sight, she walked back to her room and sat down.

Only now, when she was alone did she realize something. "He hasn't come," she muttered to herself. Surely, if he'd seen her tonight, he'd have made an appearance to her, at least to make some comment on it. Unable to quell her curiosity, she decided that she only had one choice. Thinking up whatever excuse she could, she picked up the music box with the monkey and ran off, ducking through the shadows until she reached the lowest denizens of the theatre.

"Monsieur?" she called out. "Monsieur, are you here? I just came to return this."

"Silly girl," said a voice from over her shoulder. She didn't flinch, as she had grown accustomed to him appearing in this manner. "We've been in one another's presence for quite near a month. Do you really find it cordial to continue calling me 'monsieur'?"

"No, but I don't find it proper to call you anything else," she said more timidly. "Not to mention that I don't know of anything else to call you." She shrugged at the end of this statement, looking somewhere over his shoulder.

After a moment's pause, he said in a near-whisper, "Erik." It seemed to confuse him, after spending so much time without having another soul know another name by which to call him.

Gabrielle blinked at him and nodded. "Erik, then." She said with a tiny smile.

"Thank you…for returning this," he said, clearing his throat. Gabrielle just nodded obligingly once again, still averting her eyes. "Something vexes you, mademoiselle."

"Forgive me for sounding so overconfident," she muttered, looking down at the ground. "But I thought you'd have been there tonight, that's all. It was, after all, my first show here," She paused and looked at him questioningly, her wide bright eyes staring into his worn and tired ones. "I should leave."

"You're still curious," he said knowingly, placing a hand on the edge of his mask. Gabrielle's gaze was immediately fixated on that spot."You still want to know what you would have seen."

"No!" Gabrielle replied quickly. "No, of course not. I'm…I'm not that nosy…" She paused, gave a polite incline of her head and left.

You little liar, she thought to herself as she walked back to her room to retire for the night. You want to know what's beneath that so badly. Not to mention that you're dreadfully disappointed that he didn't come to see you tonight.

"Ridiculous," she muttered to herself. She walked down to the kitchens and had a glass of water, cooling her flushed face. She calmly went back to her room, where she found another rose waiting for her. She smiled in spite of herself and opened the door. Immediately, she noticed that another letter was propped up against her vanity mirror. She eagerly ran over to read it.

Gabrielle,

Your performance today pleased me. You need not question the fact that I was present. I expect nothing but the best from you, as I hope you are aware.
O.G.