Disclaimer: Just to refresh your memory, the only thing I own is Gabrielle...oh, and Anton, whenever he decides to pop up again.

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Gabrielle could not force herself to sleep now, the way she had so many times before when she had first come to the Opera House. She lay in bed, hair tousled from tossing and turning. It wasalready nearly three o'clock, and she hadn't shut her eyes once. She couldn't tolerate being this idle. Instead, she got up, throwing off her luxurious silk covers, and scurried away, going back to the theatre. She tiptoed swiftly through the hallways and found herself back on the stage.

The night had been magic. It had been something beyond all description, imagination, or expectation. She glanced around and sighed. As magical as it had been, none of it had been real in any way. She had seen the way Erik looked at Christine from the stage, and felt an odd sense of disappointment. She had no right to expect him to keep his wise eyes upon her when his true love was such a distance away.

Suddenly, from somewhere above her, a familiar, ethereal voice echoed through the theatre.

I am your angel… Come to me, Angel of Music…

She looked upwards and jumped backwards as a figure jumped down from the rafters of the catwalk, landing silently on his feet next to her.

"Erik, what—" she began, but he silenced her with a motion of his hand. His gloved hand reached out and gently shut her eyelids. He stepped behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders. The sound of his melodic voice immediately did away with any desire to resist.

Nighttime sharpens, heightens each sensation

Darkness stirs and wakes imagination

Silently the senses abandon their defenses…

Gabrielle felt her shoulders relax under his touch as he sang into her ear, her lips parted in pleasure and surprise. He lowered one hand to wrap around her waist, the other caressing her cheek.

Slowly, gently, night unfurls its splendour

Grasp it, sense it, tremulous and tender

Turn your face away from the garish light of day

Turn your thoughts away from cold, unfeeling light

And listen to the music of the night

The hand around her waist now held one of her hands in a firm grip, caressing the back of it with his thumb. She felt her body began to feel as though it were on fire, and numb at the same time, aching with curiosity as to what this meeting meant. It could not be love, not as long as this was real, nor as long as she was awake. But it was something tangible, and so undeniably intense, Gabrielle continued to wonder.

Close your eyes and surrender to your darkest dreams

Purge your thoughts of the life you knew before

Close your eyes, feel your spirit start to soar…

Gabrielle's breath caught in her throat as he lowered his lips to sing in her ear. Her spine stood straight as the entirety of her body began to tingle and pulsate with sensational bewilderment. She pushed aside the questions she had asked herself only moments earlier.

And you'll live as you've never lived before…

He turned her around to face him, and she opened her eyes. For once, their eyes met and neither of them held anger or resentment. She merely saw into those ominous orbs and saw a soul…a soul that had been there all along, but had hidden itself behind more than one mask.

Floating, falling, sweet intoxication

Touch me, trust me, savour each sensation

Let the dream begin, let your darker side give in

To the power of the music that I write

The power of the music of the night…

He lowered his face to hers and kissed her with a fervor that frankly scared the young girl. It was her first instinct to pull away, but she fought back the idea, and eventually found a strange sense of comfort.

It was not necessarily a kiss of love, Gabrielle rationalized, even as this long, passionate kiss was still happening. As the kisses continued, she saw more and more that the type of caring he had for her, as much as she hated to admit, was like the type of feeling a man had for a mistress. They shared something that came so painfully close to love now that it could be easily mistaken for it, but there would always, always be someone that he would rather have, and that was Christine. Christine, who came first in everything. Christine, who had sent Gabrielle there, a poor orphaned, disowned urchin…and Christine, who possessed the only thing that Gabrielle desired so strongly.

Both of them broke away from their powerful embrace and looked away from one another in the type of shyness that one is often overcome by after sharing so meaningful and powerful an experience.

"They'll be missing you," Erik said.

"No they won't," Gabrielle laughed weakly. "I doubt they ever do." She nodded, and began walking away.

"You will not tell anyone of this meeting," Erik said seriously. Gabrielle froze in her tracks. "Not yet," Erik added. It slightly disheartened him when she hesitated to reply.

Gabrielle only turned her head over her shoulder. "For one who is so hurt by being denied, you're rather quick to deny me," she observed. Then, she walked away.

She felt sad and disappointed, but was unable or unwilling to cry. She was starting to go back to her room when she noticed that the door next to hers was open. She peered inside. "Anton?" she said. Only, she found that the room was completely empty. She turned around, and luckily for her, Madame Giry was passing by. "Madame, what's going on? Anton's room is empty."

"He's been let go," Madame Giry said simply. "He left immediately."

"I didn't get to say goodbye," Gabrielle said in confusion. Her eyebrows furrowed slightly as she glanced back into the empty room. Surely he would have said something if he had been planning on leaving…

"Erik said to have him removed immediately," Giry said honestly. "We were only following his directions."

"Well, do you know where he is?" Gabrielle asked, starting to grow slightly upset that Erik had ordered this and she hadn't even had the slightest clue. Whether or not she felt awkward around Anton, she certainly didn't once ever wish that he weren't there. "He is my friend, and I'd appreciate knowing where he's been taken."

"Somewhere safe, I assure you," Madame Giry said. "We didn't harm him."

"All right," Gabrielle sighed. Then, she spotted a figure walking down the hall. "Excuse me, Madame," she said shortly. She hurried up to the person down the hallway, then stood in their way. "Good morning, Signora Guidicelli," she said with a cattish grin. She'd already had a horrible day by now, and that hellish woman surely had something coming…"May I ask, what do you plan to do, besides trying to poison me?"

"I'm doing what's best for ze opera!" she screeched. "You'll run it into ze ground if they continue to have you here. You don't have the talent, or the voice."

Gabrielle laughed, shaking her head. "Do you believe that your opinion holds any merit for me, Signora, after you've only just tried to sabotage me?" She smirked calmly, an expression that no one had ever seen on the young girl's face. "Don't have the talent. Frankly, if your voice is the measure of talent, then it isn't too important."

"Insolent brat!" the diva screeched, slapping Gabrielle across the face. The younger lady's entire face flew to the side with a sickening smack, a handprint already evident on her porcelain-pale skin. "You horrible little—"

"Wench!" Gabrielle cried out angrily, sparing no effort and hitting the older woman across the face. Immediately, the two began to claw at one another uncontrollably as Carlotta made attempts to rip out Gabrielle's hair.

Suddenly, the two were being pulled apart, and Meg had Gabrielle restrained as best as she could manage while Madame Giry pulled Carlotta back to her feet.

Immediately, Meg started bringing Gabrielle to a more secluded spot, cornering her friend in an alcove far away from Carlotta. "Gabrielle, you're acting so…strange," Meg said in an exasperated tone. "You're not acting like yourself…why are you avoiding me?"

"Oh, Meg," she said remorsefully. "I can't talk here…Come with me!" She now held her friend by the wrist, and they ran to her room to talk. Gabrielle did not consider the fact that they could be eavesdropped upon within these walls as well…

"What's going on?" Meg asked. "Is something wrong?"

"Everything's gone too far," Gabrielle said in a quiet, frantic voice. "I don't have any control over anything that happens here, Meg. It's insane…"

"Is it the Opera Ghost?" Meg whispered. Gabrielle looked up with a slight fury in her eyes.

"His name isn't Opera Ghost," she said defensively. "His name is Erik…and he's…he's my ghost, now. He belongs to me."

"You've gone mad," Meg said in confusion. "He's a monster, Gabrielle. You can't possibly care about him."

"I know he's just using me," Gabrielle said, staring off into the distance. "I know…I know I'll never have the place Christine did with him. I know that. Once I've outgrown my novelty as his fawning, doe-eyed protégée, he'll be through with me." She paused and shook her head. Meg looked at her sympathetically. "But I can't make this stop, even if I did try…Meg, I can't…"

"Gabrielle," she said, placing a hand upon her friend's. Her palm was cold, just as Christine's had been before, and her face just as pale.

"He won't even acknowledge me," Gabrielle laughed bitterly. "We're to keep our meetings a secret still. It proves even more that what I'm doing is wrong."

"You poor dear," Meg said piteously, "You deserve better."

"Don't you understand?" Gabrielle said, pulling away and looking quite upset. "If he would just—" she cut herself off and shook her head fervently. "Never mind. It's futile, all of it! Filling my head with things that will never be real…"

They had gone into Gabrielle's room for secrecy and discretion, but Gabrielle's words were heard by one more set of ears. Erik felt a twinge of guilt. Dear God, how vividly he recalled being denied by Christine, and how it had pained him to hear her speak so little of what they had shared…

No one deserved to experience such betrayal, he decided, most especially not anyone who had shown him the closest thing he had known to compassion.

A/N's and Review Replies

Faust, I've always thought Don Juan Triumphant would have a very dramatic ending, especially with Eik being the playwright. I wanted to elaborate on the play a little more, but I guess that can wait until a later time.

NNC, Suffice it to say that romance will still be rough on Erik this time around, but I think this will turn out better.

Marianne Brandon, Erik is still just lovestruck by Christine, but don't worry. I think he's starting to warm up to Gabrielle.

Kk13, the Anton/Erik conflict will definitely be a stumbling block, but you're right about one thing: Anton is a nice guy (for the most part)

Ophira Holmes, Gabrielle's just getting started. Carlotta will get hers eventually. You can't be that bitchy (excuse the language!) without having karma bite you in the behind.

Summer vacation is almost here! I'm almost done being a sophomore! Woo hoo! And summer vacation means...about 20 essays for my AP classes, of course, but also more updates! Keep me motivated and keep the reviews coming!