Disclaimer: I don't own the Phantom of the Opera. Credit goes to Leroux, Kay, and ALW.

Chapter 2

Antoinette hurried toward the dormitory as fast as she could when the rehearsal was over, leaping over Lefevre's leg, which had suddenly materialized in her way. She glimpsed Madame Legrand shooting a disapproving glance at her, but decided to disregard it. She hoped Madame wouldn't come up to the dormitories again. Lifting the mattress of her bed, she pulled a small purse out and counted her money. More than enough to buy a good shirt and a pair of trousers. She would procure the food at dinner later.

She stuffed the purse into her pocket, arranged the mattress neatly again, and ran down the stairs. Thankfully, neither Madame Legrand nor the managers were in the main hall. The door of the Opera House was open, and she ran outside. The cool autumn wind lifted her hair slightly as she walked toward the general store. She loved autumn—the fragrant air, the colorful leaves, and the hint of cold in the air. The harsh near-winter wind made a bird's nest out of her long brown hair just then, and she quickly changed her mind. Blast the yellowing, dying leaves and the frigid winds.

At that moment, the large, dirty-looking men thundered past her again. One of them suddenly stopped and looked back at Antoinette. "You seen him yet?"

Antoinette rolled her eyes. "You are still around? You're the only monsters I've seen around here so far."

The man started walking toward her with a glower, but halted when he saw her bend down and pick a stone up. "D'ye really think—" he started, but the next moment he found himself backing away around the corner, nursing a rather large bruise that had suddenly formed on his nose.

Feeling thankful for the year or two she had spent in a rather slummy part of the city, Antoinette finally arrived at the store and walked inside. She looked around once and made a mad dash for the men's clothes section. No one was looking at the clothes for the moment. She hesitated, then picked a shirt and black trousers. The coats were too expensive, unfortunately. She dumped them on the table where the shopkeeper sat, and pulled her purse out. The shopkeeper looked at her with a quizzical look in his eyes.

"It's…it's for my friend," Antoinette quickly explained, paid for the clothes, and strode out of the store. Only then did she realize that she had forgotten to bring her cloth bag, and had to carry the clothes back.

Antoinette ran into the opera house, only to collide into someone. The clothes dropped to the floor, and she hastily bent down to pick it up. "I'm sorry, I wasn't looking where—"

"Antoinette!" It was Madame Legrand's voice. Antoinette winced and looked up. "Oh…hello! It's lovely to see you again!"

Madame peered down at her, her eyes now forming hazel slits. "And what are you doing with a boy's clothes?"

"Boy? Ha ha! You must be kidding! Those are…hm… I… uh… I was getting costumes for the production."

"Hannibal doesn't use any of those clothes, Antoinette." When Madame was annoyed, her slight Russian accent grew more exaggerated.

"I knew that. I'll talk to you later, Madame!" Silently berating herself for being so horrible at making things up on the spot, Antoinette flashed Madame Legrand an apologetic grin and darted up the stairs. Drat, I'm going to need to come up with better stories if I'm going to be keeping everything secret.

To her relief, dinner went much better. Her friends did remark on how fast Antoinette was eating, and Madame warned her to stay trim, but that was about it.

--

Elena Legrand glanced at the twelve-year-old ballet girl as she reached for yet another roll. What on earth was wrong with that girl?

--

Erik looked around. This was by far one of the best rooms he'd ever had in his entire life. For once, he had solitude. Safety from prying eyes and jeering faces. It was quiet here. He sat down and buried his face in his arms. The right side of his face throbbed again from all the slaps he had suffered earlier that day. How he hated his "jailer." He'd killed him, but for some reason he did not feel much satisfaction. Just immense guilt. And how he hated the deformity. He still remembered those repulsed glances his mother had always given him. His eyes suddenly felt hot—silently, he cried for the first time today. His emaciated chest heaved, and tears brimmed in his eyes and streamed down. Choking back the sobs, he leaned back against the wall and swiped at his wet face with balled fists. His entire life was a nightmare, and he had just wanted it all to end.

And yet, he had now been blessed with someone who didn't fear him. Antoinette was…friendly to him. He hoped that it wasn't a dream. He sat there and finally lost track of time. When he came to himself, his eyes ached, and his lips felt salty.

He shook his head and sat up, deciding that there was no use in sitting around and moping. The cavern was rather dull—if he were to live there, he would need to make major modifications. Countless ideas already sprang up in his mind. He smiled, despite himself. Candles, lots of candles. He'd always loved candles—something about that flickering, mysterious fire attracted him. And rooms, separated with curtains. A raft! He could build a raft. And when he had some spare time, he'd explore all the—

He heard someone sloshing toward the cavern and stiffened. Right outside the cavern, the footsteps stopped. "Erik? Can I come in?"

Erik immediately relaxed again. "Sure."

The slim figure of Antoinette appeared at the opening of the cavern. She was carrying a cloth-wrapped bundle. She carefully made her way up out of the water and set the bundle down. "Here, I brought you some clothes," she said, unwrapping the cloth and laying out a pair of trousers and a shirt. "Oh, and it's probably going to get cold down here in the winter. I couldn't buy a coat, so…I hope this one will do." She handed him a coat that just barely fit him. "And I hope you don't mind the ruffles."

Erik looked down in slight alarm. White, lacy ruffles surrounded the fringe of the coat, as well as the sleeve. He finally shrugged. "I don't mind."

Antoinette grinned and tried to hold back a laugh.

"No one's going to see me, anyway," he added darkly.

Antoinette gave a quiet sigh as she looked at the boy's scarred face. "Oh, and I brought some food."

"Thank you." Erik almost sounded happy for a moment.

"Well, I have to go." Antoinette stood up. "Madame will probably be wondering about me. I'll come by again."

--

Elena walked into the manager's office. "Monsieur Alvord?"

"Yes, Madame Legrand?" Henri Alvord looked up from the stack of papers he had been perusing.

"Did you tell Antoinette Lauran to buy any costumes for the production?"

"No…why would I send a ballet girl on such an errand, anyway?"

"How strange. But I was just wondering. Good day!"

-To be continued

Yep… good ol' Hannibal. And my, isn't Mme. Legrand nosy…