Veronique wandered past countless buildings, focusing on the destination in sight. The ruined building lay in her path, and she was not afraid of the powers within. They only gave her more strenght to face them, knowing she would be out of the fire in no time. But she knew not of the wrath of her Angel, how quickly his temper flares.

Erik flew down a secret passageway; a shortcut to his beloved lair. It was the only place he felt safe from the world's cruelties. But the only thing on his mind was Veronique's gaping expression when he revealed his deepest, darkest secret to her. Such hate and fire burned in her eyes for him, and that fire seared his already scarred face. He came upon his greatest creation and design, and hurried over to his great swan bed. His tears were poured onto the pillows which her head laid such a short time ago. He had lost his last chance. There was no longer a reason to live. He stared at the ceiling, contemplating the many ways to end his tragic life.

Veronique did not care about the stares she received from passersby. Her beauty was marred by the tears that freely flowed from her emerald-green eyes. Her long curly hair was disheveled, as she wanted to tear it out after her ears heard such terrible notions from his mouth. A usually blemish-free complexion was plagued by blotches and blemishes brought on by stress. But she neared her destination, and quickly recomposed herself. She stopped by a dusty window to make sure she looked her best, but she was disappointed by the girl staring back at her. But she took a deep breath and entered into the condemned building, no backward glances given.

Watching her every step, she made her way to the dressing room that held the secret passageway to his secrets. The debris on the ground had been covered in dust from neglect, and ashes from the terrible fire that brought the house down lingered on every surface. Catching a glimpse of the door, she looked forward and saw that she had succeeded in reaching the next step. The door was still open from the first time she had pried it open all those months ago, but this time she did not slip through it with ease. The room was still in immaculate condition, but this time she noticed things more. There were roses scattered all over the dusty floor, and each one had a black ribbon tied around the stem. The flowers had been long wilted, but they all remained untouched with a thin layer of dust and ash coating them. The floor directly in front of the mirror was strewn with these flowers, and the mirror remained open. The dim torchlight proved that Erik had been here recently.

She stepped through the narrow passage between the sliding glass and the gilded frame. Once again, she heard music echoing from the dungeons. Gentle sobs shook the voice that had once encaptured her heart, and she listened to the lyrics with tears brimming in her eyes.

"No one would listen
No one but her
Heard as the outcast hears

Shamed into solitude
Shunned by the multitude
I learned to listen
In my dark
My heart heard music

I longed to teach the world
Rise up and reach the world
No one would listen
I alone
Could hear the music

Then at last
A voice in the gloom
Seemed to cry
'I hear you'
I hear your fears
Your torment and your tears

She saw my loneliness
Shared in my emptiness
No one would listen
No one but her
Heard as the outcast hears

No one would listen
No one but her
Heard as the outcast hears."