Disclaimer: If I owned anything worthwhile, I would flaunt it. I don't flaunt, therefore---I don't own.

"Why did you volunteer me for this?" Anton asked Gabrielle as they were walking out of the theatre after the rehearsal had ended. Gabrielle turned around and shrugged.

"I just thought it would be helpful. It pays well," she said frankly. "After this, you can buy your school books already, and not have to worry about me bothering you anymore."

"Oh" Anton said. For the remainder of the walk back to their rooms, they walked in silence. Gabrielle was about to go back into her room when he called out her name. She turned around and walked a few steps, covering the distance that had been laid between them. "I just wanted to let you know, you don't bother me," he said fondly, brushing the backs of his fingertips against her cheek. "I'm actually glad to have you around,"

Gabrielle blushed brightly for a moment, then pulled her face away from his hand. He reached for her again, but she stepped backward, gently pushing his wrist away. "You're playing with fire, Monsieur." she said, going into her room. Anton stood in the hallway, staring at her door long after it was shut and locked.

Meanwhile, Gabrielle was surprised to see, at the moment she had entered her room, that she was not alone. Erik stared at her questioningly, having witnessed the entire exchange that had occurred between her and the young man. "It didn't mean anything," she said timidly.

"Perhaps I should not have been so quick to relinquish the role to him," Erik said icily. "Your duets with him may grow far too realistic. I can't have my pupil being distracted by such trivial things."

"It's only acting," Gabrielle said, her eyes growing more and more remorseful

"If anything happens, it's his hide." Erik pointed out. "You'd do well to remember that." Gabrielle nodded, then looked him in the face.

She had tried her best to keep her eyes transfixed upon his, but they willed themselves otherwise. She found her gaze wandering to the mask that covered nearly half of his face.

"Tempting, isn't it?" he asked, stepping closer to her and towering above her tiny figure. "No one's stopping you. You could pull it off, and you could scream, and run out into the arms of your precious Monsieur Fouinard. I don't doubt that he'll be more than happy to have you—"

"How long are you going to keep doing this?" Gabrielle interrupted, clenching her eyes shut for an instant and turning her face slightly away. "You're correct, I could do it. But I'm not going to."

"I'm telling you to, you insolent little wench!" he yelled, roughly grabbing her wrist and putting her hand to his face, forcing her to place her fingers along the edge of the mask, thinking she could not resist the urge to do it now.

But Gabrielle still didn't move, staring defiantly into his eyes and pulling her hand away. "Then do it yourself." she said darkly. Erik now stood completely still as well. "I thought so." Gabrielle said.

"Everyone else in this damn opera house has seen it." she said with a slight quaver in his voice. Why do you refuse? So you can hate this monster as much as anyone else—"

"I won't hate you," she said honestly.

"Then you'd pity me," he spat. "And I'd settle for it. In any case, you'd be the first."

"No." she said harshly. His words now seemed to have incited something in her. "Pity is for Idiots. Those who pity are idiots who are pompous enough to look at someone who's fallen upon hard times, and think that their lives are so much better." She panted, having conducted the entire tirade in a single breath. "I've been pitied for nearly my entire life. It's nothing to settle for. Being hated…it's better. At least you have respect."

"You mean fear." Erik said.

"There's no difference between them," Gabrielle said, sitting down on her daybed, glancing at her window. "Pity? Someone pats you on the head and throws you a couple of francs, thinking they've changed your life…" Erik looked at the young girl sadly, almost apologetically for a moment when she waved a hand in frustration. "Don't look at me that way, please," she said in tearless sobs. "I wasn't someone to be pitied, I just…I didn't flaunt what I had, that's all."

"At least you had your dear Uncle Raoul," he spat in disgust. She stared at him in confusion, her eyes narrowing slightly as though she was trying to understand. "Don't look so surprised, you know that I knew."

Gabrielle shook her head and looked away. "I…I met him once" She replied truthfully "I was seven years old, but I can remember it. He came to our house to tell our father that he was disinherited. My father…he lost everything that day."

"And what of your uncle?" Erik asked. "That man must have appeared a knight in shining armor to a girl of that age."

"I was sick when he came…" Gabrielle said distantly. "And I remember…he brought me a new dress." She paused and sighed with fluttering eyes, as though she was digging deeper and deeper into her mind. "I'm living on borrowed time." she said. "I was always sick, and I should have died My father would go mad every time I even coughed. He had money saved, just in case…He wasn't going to have his only child buried like a commoner." She paused, and looked as though she was overwhelmed, but took only a few moments before she was able to continue. Through all this, Erik stood in an enthralled and disbelieving silence. "Then, my mother died. That was when I was seven as well. Things got a bit better…Still, I hardly ever went outside, couldn't go out and play. I was an ugly, pale little thing. But after my father died…things have changed a bit, I guess. I've been all right since then."

"Then you're a miracle child," Erik said, standing in front of her now. He pulled her up, but she looked away from him. "A miracle, in exchange for your life,"

"A devil's bargain," she replied, disgusted now at herself. "My parents died in exchange for my life, whether I asked for it or not. I'm only here because someone needs to make up for the years that my parents never had the chance to live."

'You're wrong," Erik said, tilting her chin up with his gloved hand. It surprised him that she did not pull away from his cold touch. "Perhaps your mother and father did die to give you the chance to live. But that is because you are destined for greatness."

"Greatness," she scoffed. "I stole their lives. Nothing can justify that."

"You're trying to atone for a crime you did not commit." he said.

"As are you," she said, putting a hand up to his smooth, perfect, unmasked cheek. For a slow moment, he merely stared at her. Then, unsure of what to do, he pushed her harshly away and fled. He did not even notice that he had pushed her to the ground as he ran down through his labyrinth, back to that desolate place he had always called home, blinded by tears.

"Christine," he groaned in a pained voice as he returned to his lair. He felt as though he was dying, betraying the woman he had sworn would never be replaced. He knew that she would never love him, and did not expect her to, but he made that promise to love her and only her…

You alone can make my song take flight…

Erik collapsed to his knees on the ground, sobbing.

Meanwhile, Gabrielle lay in bed, and sang one line to herself as she drifted off to sleep.

Why can't I make the music of the night…

She drifted off to sleep with that, tears welled in her closed eyes.

Once again, she found herself quite awake, yet quite not. She found herself in a place full of snow, or clouds, or some other thing that she, in her sheltered life, had never seen before. hen, before her appeared a woman, familiar to her only in places like these, in dreams…

"Mother?" she said quietly, unsurely. The woman nodded.

"My little girl," she said, embracing Gabrielle. Gabrielle returned it almost stiffly. "Oh, how you've grown!" she put her hands on her daughter's face and stared at her. "When you were born, I thought you would look exactly like me. But you look exactly like your father." she paused and laughed at the pout on her daughter's face. "But that temper is most definitely mine," she laughed melodiously. "My darling, I'm proud of you. So proud."

Gabrielle took a deep breath and stared at the woman she had wanted to speak to so many times. "I've needed you so many other times, Mother." she said quietly. "Why here? Why now?"

"Oh, Gabrielle," she chided. "You may have thought you needed me, but those times, you were capable of winning on your own. But now…my darling, now you need to listen to your mother."

Tearfully, she stared up at her mother. She was so beautiful, and so perfect, everything that Gabrielle wasn't. "Sometimes, I think father was upset because I didn't look like you," she said quietly.

'And yet look how beautiful you are," she replied, kissing her daughter on the forehead.

"You're my mother, you're at least responsible for half of it," she laughed weakly.

'So how many men are in love with you," she asked.

"None," Gabrielle laughed. "I've never given anyone the chance to love me, really."

"You don't need to," her mother replied. "You've enraptured someone, I'm sure, but you don't know it yet. Someday, someone will help you realize how beautiful you are." She kissed her daughter on the forehead again, and then faded slowly away, leaving Gabrielle alone in the dreamworld of cloud and twilight.

A/N's and Review Replies

ArwenKalina, the love triangle isn't quite as...triangular, so to speak. Interpret that as you will, I don't want to give anything away.

Cassie, (KensDragonet), je ne peut pas oublier tes conseils. I'll try to update as quickly as I can, you have my word!

Also thanks to An Anti-Sheep Cheese Muffin, Ophira Holmes, and Diana-Lupin for reviewing as well!

Jusqu'a la fois prochaine...

xoxo
victoria