A/N I am trying to update this fast with long chapters. And as I write, my previous chapter hasn't even shown itself on fanfiction yet as I only put it up this morning. I'm on a roll! Or so I think. Thanks for all the great reviews I hope you enjoy this chapter even though it has taken ages to write! By the way, this Erik isn't masculine; it's just Erik; a lonely man in love, his one true companion (apart from the cat), a diary. Therefore he treats it like a friend even if that isn't masculine at all. Thank You Come Again!

Disclaimer: I own… whatever I said I did last chapter. Ok I think I will stop with disclaimers now, I only need one.

Previous entry: You can come back soon just not now, they will think you have been kidnapped!' 'Ok than, if you promise.' 'I do' She came closer to me and then kissed me! Not just on the cheek, a proper kiss! My first. It was fantastic! It is ok; she has gone back to her bedroom for a moment to make sure she looks decent. When does she not? Oh gosh, it is amazing how much I love her! She must like me too. It is too soon to tell her how I feel though. After all, I don't want a repeat of last night. But now I must go and return Christine. I will write of the rest of my day tonight after Il Muto.

Yours truly, Erik

Chapter 2: Disasters and Second Chances?

22:30 organ (when is it not) 31st October 1870

Dear Diary,

What have I done! I can't honestly say I regret the whole murder thing (more on that later when I get to it) but I don't think Christine was happy about that. Christine… oh god have I ruined my chances with her? She certainly seemed to prefer that "Raoul". But with Carlotta, she laughed, she really did! And oh how her eyes lit up like they do, it was worth poisoning the toad just to see Christine laugh. Ha, I said I would use that toad thing on Carlotta one day. One day turned out to be the next day. I feel mixed up. I have to speak avec Christine immediately. That may not be an option so I will just write to you about it first.

When did I stop writing…? Ah yes. I took Christine back to her dressing room the way we came, not keen to use any other route just in case. I left her inside (not before she hugged me close and we said our farewells) and returned to my lair to write some intimidating notes. I heard Madame Giry and her daughter enter Christine's dressing room just as I had left. I hurried away and when I returned, I scrawled letters to Messieurs André and Firmin, the Vicomte, Carlotta and one for Madame Giry to find and give to one of the managers.

Then I took a short rest on my bed. It's amazing just how comfortable it is compared to the organ bench! When I awoke I ventured outside of the opera house and using a scarf to cover my face instead of a mask (I could get away with this as it was bitter cold outside) Strolled to the nearby market and bought some fresh fruit. Then I went to the jewellers and bought a beautiful white gold ring with many crystals. The ring cost 1,500 francs and was worth every penny as I am sure Christine will love it. I even paid extra for a velvet heart shaped box. I next went to the florists and bought a dozen red roses as I had used my last on Christine yesterday. That reminded me that I needed to purchase some more black ribbon also.

When I returned to the opera house I heard a small group of people – from what I gathered consisted of my managers, Carlotta (DAMN, I forgot to acquire some stupid ear plugs!) and Raoul and Madame Giry in different locations. They were singing about Prima Donna. From what I deduced, the world wanted Carlotta and she would be the Countess. Furious, I stalked back to my lair. I had made sure that they knew that I wanted Christine to play Countess. So, they thought to mess with the phantom of the opera did they? I would make them very much so regret their decision!

I got dressed and spent the rest of the day reading Shakespearean sonnets. A whole book of them. It was very interesting. Or in other words, time consuming. But that is what I wanted. When it was time for the performance I noticed that yet again that stupid fop was sitting in box five without a care in the world. Already annoyed, I decided that I would not stand for this. I hurried up to near the ceiling well hidden behind the chandelier, and waited. After Carlotta had finished her ho-ho-ho-ho-ho's, I made my voice boom out did I not instruct that box five was to be kept empty? Yet again Mademoiselle Giry whispered 'He's here, the phantom of the opera!' Then Christine… Oh Christine! She murmured 'It's him' Carlotta heard and said 'your part is silent little toad,' perfect for my plan, for I had already poisoned the liquid, which she used to help with her voice, so that she would croak. 'A toad madame? Perhaps it is you, who are the toad' she ignored and used her crimson liquid. After minimal waiting, she started to sing again: 'you cannot speak, but kiss me in my croak' it was most amusing. Then again, 'poor fool he makes me laugh ha-ha, ha-ha. Ha-ha croak, croak, croak.' She ran off stage and inside where the rafters were I was silently laughing. Little did I know that the stupid Bouquet man was following me for some queer reason.

Firmin announced that they would continue in 10 minutes when none other than my wonderful Christine Daae would be playing the Countess. Well I did promise her she would. I had already placed a fresh rose in her dressing room. A stuttering André declared that the meanwhile the b-b-b-b-ballet would be taking place. I had previously seen and quite enjoyed it. When I found Bouquet he seemed to have changed his mind at wanting to find me. our games of cat and mouse – me of course being the mouse – were fun but soon the cat trapped his prey. I suffocated the man then tied my rope around his neck. I dropped him down and it took a couple of moments before some spinning rats realised. Everybody was screaming, and then I dropped the corpse down below.

With a swish of my cape I moved away to find where Christine had got to. Raoul found her first and she took him away saying they were not safe there. I followed them as the ran up some steps to where I knew would lead them to upon the rooftop. They broke into song. But it wasn't really interesting – well the if he has to kill a thousand me, the phantom of the opera will kill and kill again amused me as she didn't even know me well enough to tell. But then she started singing the bit I did before music of the night except with her own lyrics:

Raoul I've been there, to his world of unending night. To a world where the daylight dissolves into darkness, darkness. Raoul I've seen him, can I ever forget that sight? Can I ever escape from that face? So distorted, deformed it was hardly a face, in that darkness, darkness. Buthis voice filled my spirit with a strange sweet sound. In that night there was music in my mind. And through music my soul began to soar. And I heard as I never heard before.'

That face so distorted deformed it was hardlya face! When I called her a lying Delilah I was right. That two faced bitch lied to me to make me happy. How could she door that? But wait, it gets even better:

Yet in his eyes, all the sadness of the world. Those pleading eyes, that both threatened and adored. She was getting alarmingly close to the statue behind which, I was hiding. Then the fop started his bit and they started a cheesy love song that I won't even waste my time writing down. They did not realise that I was there listening to every word. She had even dropped my rose leaving it forgotten like she had me. Then they proclaimed their love for each other and kissed. Their song also made me assume that she was a little bit frightened of the dark too.

But none of that mattered. For she didn't love me, she loved the stupid fop. How could I have been so stupid? Surely I should have realised straight away that somebody as wonderful (ha she's about as wonderful as my abhorrent face) as her would never love a man with a "face so distorted it was hardly a face" such as myself. It hurts so. Literally my heart aches and yet again I find myself yearning for her. She will be mine and we will marry with or without her consent. It is destiny. We are meant to be together and I just know it.

Even after tonight I am willing to forgive and forget and… well, maybe it isn't me who should be forgiving. "My god who is this man, who hunts to kill?" that is another phrase she sung. Maybe I was the only person happy that Joseph Bouquet was dead. What is this! This woman is making me feel guilt now? My god who is this woman, who hunts to torment? But maybe, I will give the killing a rest. And I do have to sort things out with Christine I don't think she likes the idea of me being a murder. Well that is hardly my fault is it? She should have thought about that before she sought friendship (and maybe, hopefully much more) with the Phantom of the Opera. I have just had an idea. I shall act as though I do not know that she is in love (not when I'm finished with her, I got her to kiss me the first time we met!) with the fop who is in dire need of a haircut. I will act as though I did not overhear their conversation or well actually song… and I will see what she is like. If she pretends nothing happened and strokes my horrible face and tells me she loves me than I shall know she really is a two faced bitch. But if she tells me the truth…

Let us just say that I would be hurt but I can trust her. And forgive her. And she can forgive me. We will marry and live together. Again, about that house thing, I was thinking… maybe we could be happy in just a big flat. After all, who needs stairs? Stairs are just a waste of space. And it would also save a lot of money. Neither of us would ever have to work for the rest of our comfortable lives. Still, I really haven't thought this through. I shall have to talk to my beloved about it a little while after I propose. That is another thing. I have never proposed before. Nor have I seen anybody else proposing. I can turn my hand to anything but this romance stuff is pretty much an exception. Should I just give her the ring? Should I get down on one knee? Should I say would you marry me? Should I write it in red roses or maybe arrange candles to ask it? I'm in way over my depth here. You aren't exactly helping either! What the hell would you know you stupid notebook? When have you ever known anything? Gosh, am I going insane? No, no of course not. It is just this love for Christine; it is really getting to me.

What if that fop has proposed to her? What if they are together right now! Whispering sweet nothings in each other's ears. Or even worse, singing to each other! No! I cannot allow that. I have waited to long for this moment – all my life! –And just because some Vicomte decides that he loves her also (which isn't surprising I mean come on, Christine!) I will not lose her. I refuse to. I do not take failing well, at all. That night I first showed myself to Christine, he was ignoring her objections completely. She deserves somebody who listens to all she says and relishes in her words. Not laughing a stupid girlie laugh and walking out. What is the world coming to? Fops these days, honestly!

It is getting late. And I can't bear to think of my competition and misfortune any longer.

I bid you goodnight diary. I apologise for saying you don't know anything, earlier. I was lying. You are very smart and helpful and I am so glad I have you. Night, night.

Yours truly, Erik

01:43 organ 1st November 1870

Dear Diary,

Happy All Saints Day. Ha-ha.You know I don't believe in religion in any form. It was a good joke though wasn't it? Wasn't it? Well somebody is moody tonight. It isn't me. I am happy, happy, happy, happy, happy. And maybe a little bit tired. And intoxicated. It is nothing. Maybe I had a glass or too of champagne. Huh? Is that even how you spell too? I don't no. Well I do no something for sure as hell. I have my second chance. I'm not exactly what it's for. But second chances sound good. I love Christ

12:00 organ 3rd November 1870

Dear Diary,

Ow. Why does my head hurt? And why did I wake up on the floor? Oh, I just re-read what I had written last night. Stuff is coming back to me. oh god Christine is here. That reminds me. I do not love Christ. I already said I don't - oh hello Christine dear, I was just writing about you. Ok maybe I was supposed to say that. Maybe it will be easier if I just get her to read my diary.

That is what I have done. And for the record I meant to spell "too" two. And my second chance is with Christ. No wait, Christine. Am I still a bit wasted? No, my head hurts too much. Thank – I don't know, thank god? – Christine's laughter is soft so it doesn't hurt my head. That is another thing though. I do know that know is spelt exactly as I just spelt it. Am I really that stupid when drunk. And if a glass or two is a bottle or two than I was telling the truth… Ow head hurts. I hope you don't hate me for that joke. I thought it was quite funny. I mean, actually pretending I care whether it is a saints day or not…

Well anyway. I found Christine in the chapel yesterday and put my plan into action. Oh does she know about that yet? Oh good I told her yesterday – phew that could have been awkward! She told me she loves Raoul as a friend and when he kissed her she just obliged. She didn't want to ruin their chance of friendship and tell the truth. Or, she could be saying Raoul when secretly she means me. The look in her eyes is telling me no. She really does love me! But what about all my problems? Don't worry Christine honey it's nothing I was just talking about my head. And neck. And just about every other part of my body. Yes, I suppose a massage would make me feel a little bit better…

It may not be professional but my gosh she does a good massage! Even my neck has stopped hurting and it has been aching since October 30th! Ok so she wasn't best pleased at my performance on Il Muto night but I got her to admit that Carlotta's toad act was funny. She still scolded me. But it was worth it.

We stayed in the chapel till late just talking. Then I stole a couple of bottles of champagne from the kitchens and celebrated my success of winning back Christine's love (and also planning and starting my opera Don Juan Triumphant) in style. Which wasn't very stylish. I now realise this; it caused me to fall unconscious at my organ, making it look like I loved Christ, slip off the bench causing me to bang my head very hard on a nearby candle holder and stay asleep on the cold hard moist floor below me. So to say not very stylish is a bit of an understatement. Well this paragraph has very much made Christine laugh. I'm glad somebody finds it amusing.

I wonder where Ayesha is. I'm starting to miss her. She is my cat; I have had her since she was a kitten, Christine. I love her. The cat not you. I mean, I do love you but at that precise moment in time I was talking about Ayesha. She went off in a huff because she was jealous of you. No, it isn't your fault. She will come back soon. She always does. Whenever we fall out. But she cannot survive on her own so she uses me. If she was here, she would have scratched me until I awoke last night so I could get to my proper bed. Oh well. It's ok now. No lasting harm.

Did I mention that I didn't sleep on the 31st even though I said I was going to? Well it is true. I couldn't sleep. Well I didn't even try. I just wandered around for a couple of hours than I made up a new song. It shall go in my opera. I made up lyrics that go perfectly with it too. I call it: Point of no Return.

I just showed and sung it to Christine she loves it. I wish you would say something constructive. That would be nice. But you are not. I am tired. Lack of sleep. I am going to sleep and I don't care if Christine is here, she can just go. Or alternatively she could just look around my home and stuff. I have some books to amuse her with. Books that are not my diary. I don't trust her. I'll put you underneath my mattress when I go to sleep so she cannot get to you. As if I would she says. Yeah right I can see in your eyes how curious you are to see what I could possibly write down that fills up such a large notebook (you are a disgrace, so fat. You should be ashamed). Well I tell you now, my love, mostly I write a load of rubbish. And I know you are desperate to reveal some of my secrets you deceiving book. I should lock you away. Or sleep. Sleep sounds good.

Yours truly, Erik

22:56 organ (I don't even know why I bother to write that anymore) 3rd November 1870

Dear Diary,

I would have written yesterday evening – or night as it so often is – but I was kind of… tied up. When I awoke at about 3:30 Christine was still here. I really expected her to have gone but I am glad she was here. The only criticism I have of her is that she will read my diary, well, you, over my shoulder even when I don't want her to and as I am too polite to say anything I just have to put up with it. But no matter, when we are married everything we possess will be each other's and I will allow her to read my diary. Now is hardly any different…

But anyway, so Christine was reading some Enid Blyton book she had found, when I went over to her. I swear I have no idea where that book came from. Nor have I ever even seen it before, let alone read it. I put my hands other her eyes and said 'guess who?'. She thought for a moment then mockingly replied 'erm…Monsieur Reyer? I chuckled at her and she turned around and kissed me. I could get used to that sort of love…

So then she went into the kitchen area and came out with a plateful of fruit salade. There were apples and bananas and grapes and all sorts arranged ever so nicely. I sat in an armchair with Christine on my lap and we ate some fruit. Every now and then I would feed her some. It was probably the best moment of my life.

I got my 20,000 francs about an hour after I told Christine to leave. We both know that she can't stay here for long. Search parties would go out looking for her, not to mention the fop. He would probably foolishly try and duel with me. I, of course would win. I always win. After all, I did get Christine back even though I murdered that man (remember when I said she wasn't best pleased, that was an understatement, I actually feared she would do something very harsh. She hit me over and over again, she through my possessions, she knocked over candles and she looked like she was about to rip up my music book!). But she still came back to me with apologies and sweet smiles. And I lapped it up like when Ayesha drinks her milk.

I might go looking for her tomorrow. She could be in danger or maybe even lost. We don't want that now do we. I shall explain to her that she is the number one girl in my life, always has been, always will be. Christine is merely a human and with Christine and I together we could give Ayesha even more love. Or if all else fails, I can bribe her with lots of fish and milk, and lots of cat toys including string.

Not a lot else happened. Being bored, I decided to return to my organ and write some more of my opera. It is coming along nicely. I aim to have it finished by the New Year's masquerade. Then, I shall give it to my managers and they will be forced to show it and put Christine in the lead.

I look forward to seeing it performed. But for now I shall sleep. Goodnight, sweet dreams.

Yours truly, Erik

00.00 chapel (ha! Somewhere new) 4th November 1870

Dear Diary,

I had a lovely dream last night. My guest for the masquerade, was Christine. We danced all night long and then we came back to my lair and sang to each other for an age. Then we went to bed and… well let us just say my imagination got the better of me last night. Like it usually does. I don't know what my brain is thinking, before marriage! That would be most improper!

I stayed in bed until mid afternoon. Christine came down at about 14.00 and I was still in bed. She kicked her shoes off and climbed in. My breath caught short. She nuzzled up to me and it really felt as though I was in heaven. We fell asleep; her in my arms, and when we awoke at about 16.00 I picked up the courage to ask her. Christine… do you want to, I mean I would love it if – but you don't have to, would you like to, err, have dinner with me? I bet you thought I was gonna propose! As much as I would love to it is too early and I would probably just scare her off. It's a wonder I haven't already. She laughed while I blushed scarlet and agreed. I told her that I would be at her dressing room to escort her to dinner at 18.00 sharp. She smiled and said she had to get ready. Then she rushed up to me and pecked me lightly on the lips. I love her, I really do! Just in case you didn't figure that out before.

I got ready and decided that I would take her to a lovely restaurant I had heard good things about on the banks of the Seine. After all, that is kind of romantic isn't it? At five minutes to six I started on my short journey to my angel's dressing room. The time when I got there was 10 seconds to. I waited until the exact right time and then walked in. My angel glanced at a clock and smiled when she saw how punctual I was. I held out my arm for her, which she took. Oh by the way, did I mention how beautifully stunning she looked. Well she did. Her gown was baby blue and she had a midnight blue cloak to go over it. I was wearing a boring old suit, quite similar – but with a different shirt – and a blue (coincidental) cravat.

I led Christine out of the Opera Populaire and got a carriage to take us to our restaurant. My first date avec ma ange. In the back of the carriage, Christine leaned against me and I talked to her about my opera. She even suggested to me some ideas of plot lines. I was intrigued, her notions were interesting and I liked them very much. Then we got to the restaurant named La fleur rose.

Upon entering, I took Christine's cloak and hung it up in the cloakroom. After getting a table, I pulled the chair up for Christine then took a seat for myself. The evening went smoothly and after dinner we went for a stroll along the Seine. This has been a magical evening Erik, Thank you. Nine words. That is all it took. Nine words and my heart swelled and filled with emotion as I never felt it before. I pulled her in close for a passionate kiss only puling away reluctantly for breath. We continued on our saunter along the riverside, hand in hand. An old woman walked past us and cooed about young love. I smiled at Christine who returned it and cuddled close to me.

It felt all too soon when the clock struck 23.00 and I decided (against my will, but listening to my better judgement) that we should head back. We decided to walk instead of getting a carriage and it only took half an hour. I escorted her to her bedroom and was parted with another passionate kiss. Thank you. she repeated and I merely replied, non mademoiselle, thank you. I left but decided to grab you and write inside the peaceful opera house chapel. I lit all the candles and began to write. I began to write about a day.A day where my disfigurement didn't matter and I felt actually loved. The best day of my life. For tonight, I roamed with angels.

Yours truly, Erik

23.14 Organ22nd December 1870

Dear Diary,

Well it is about bloody time! I haven't abandoned you for Christine, do not worry. You are still my number one. (God I am sad…) I have been searching for nearly two months for you. Ayesha came back the day you went missing. I went to tell you about it and you had gone! Disappeared, just like the magician, that came to perform here, for one of his acts. Panicked, I practically turned this lair upside down looking for you. I gave up after five hours and stared at the tip that was my home. Christine came down and saw the tears in my eyes. She asked me what was wrong so I told her. She said that she would buy me a new notebook – the most beautiful one in Paris. But I didn't want another – I wanted you. I will never replace you dear diary! Knowing how much you mean to me, my beloved helped me look for you for the rest of the day. We gave up at about 19.00. It was obvious you weren't here. It didn't register that Ayesha wasn't helping or anything. She must have done it in jealousy. For she thinks I prefer Christine to her. I tell her everyday it is not true and I spend three hours a day just Ayesha – Erik time. She thinks I'm doing it to trick her into thinking she is my number one girl even when Christine is. This is not the case.

But I think she did it because she knows you're the most precious think I possess. When I found you tucked neatly in a crack at the bottom of Apollo's Lyre I sat down and laughed. I go up to the rooftop every night. I didn't even think of looking there. Typical Ayesha to hide it somewhere so near to me yet at a place I would never look. She is very intelligent.

She's lucky that nothing too eventful happened this past few months otherwise I would have swung her into the lake by her tail:). Don't look so shocked I am joking. Even I can jest. I would have only dipped her in for a moment or two.

I took Christine in a few more dates each much better than the last. I shall propose to her after the New Years Bal Masque. I have it all planned out:

As the crowd slowly disperses through each exit I take Christine by the hand and take her to my lair. Along the passageway I will make it brighter and decorate it with flowers. The ground will be laden with red rose petals. As we turn the corner to the lake I will hear her soft gasp as she notices it. Small flower shaped candles floats atop spelling out; Mon ange will you marry me?

Nearest to us on the bank will be Ayesha with the ring tied on her collar (whether she likes it or not), looking cute. I will turn to Christine after taking the ring from Ayesha and get down on one knee. Her face will burst into a smile as she accepts. That night we will for the first time make love and it will be beauti-

No. Once again my imagination gets the better of me. If she accepts than obviously we will marry and then it will happen. No sooner then that! I don't know what I am thinking. It is probably all these years of loneliness and finally having the chance to show somebody what it means to be loved.

In any case, I cannot wait for New Years. It will not just be a new year, but a new beginning also.

And now I must go and escort my beautiful fiancée-to-be to dinner.

Yours truly,

Erik

A/N voila, finally the next chapter. It took me so long because I did about 9 pages then I had to go and never got round to finishing this. I ran out of ideas of what could happen so I just lost the diary to get to the masquerade faster. Yep, next chapter. And If I didn't than this wouldn't be up until next millennium and would be 40,000,000 pages long! Anyway, please review, I love to read them: D

And I don't mind criticism if it is constructive. Please no flames. Danke Schun.