Author´s note: Usually I don´t do chapter dedications. But this one is dedicated to HPROXMYSOX because you guessed the title so well and gave an interesting suggestion for interpretation of one of Mme. Giry´s sentences. Although of course Erik himself said he was dying of love, not of grief... I´m always interested in your thoughts. So let me know!

9) ...to have someone understand

"Hello Meg!" Meg forced herself to smile. But inwardly she groaned. Couldn´t she even go down a corridor without meeting someone? And why was this someone Ariane of all people? She had informed her mother about Christine, and now all she wanted was to be with Erik again.

"I´ve just heard about what happened on stage – how terrible!", Ariane exclaimed with a theatrical gesture. "There´s nothing terrible about a bit of meat.", Meg mumbled. She really had more important matters to think about at the moment. "Yes, but all the rats! Marie passed out when she saw them. They carried her past my room." "Very interesting…" Meg rolled her eyes.

Apparently Ariane was determined not to notice it, just like she ignored her impatiently tapping her foot to the floor. "The other girls told me that all this had been done by that man… the Opera Ghost." Erik would have been pleased to hear someone speak his name with so much awe. Meg tried to suppress an amused grin. But as Ariane continued Meg grew more and more serious. "They also said that he watches our every step from behind the mirrors. And when he finds a girl alone he comes to her and… and…"

"That´s not true!", Meg yelled so suddenly that Ariane jumped. "Er- he would never do that. At least that´s what I heard.", she added quickly. But the new girl was unstoppable. "And they told me that he has already killed someone.", she said in a hushed whisper, as if she was afraid he could come out of a corner and do it again. Meg couldn´t believe her ears. How had the other chorus girls managed to pour out so much gossip over poor Ariane in such a short time? "Why don´t we go to your room and I tell you a few things about the ghost?", she suggested. Of course she wouldn´t talk about him and her. She´d just tell her a few things to make her less frightened. She hated it when Erik was portrayed as a heartless monster. He would surely understand that she had to improve his reputation before returning to him.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………..

Meanwhile Erik was, once again, waiting. He wasn´t a very patient person. Over the years he had developed his own methods of making people work at the speed he wanted them to. But now he couldn´t do anything. This was probably one of the reasons why the present situation was almost unbearable for him.

After a few minutes he peered out of the door cautiously. Maybe he could ses Meg coming back to him. They still had a lot of time, and he had a couple of ideas how to spend it very nicely. He shrank back behind the slightly open door as he heard voices. But it wasn´t his beloved, perhaps talking to her mother or one of the other girls. These voices were clearly male.

Erik barely suppressed a sigh. It were none other than his dear managers, who apparently stood a few doors away from his. Usually they weren´t even worth to be eavesdropped. But then, it couldn´t hurt to find out what they were talking about. They were probably just marvelling at the incident on stage and what he had wanted to achieve with it. Of course they would never understand it. They possessed only little imagination and had surely never been that madly in love.

He held his breath, listening closely to their laughter. Laughter? Yes, they were actually laughing. "´A tame ghost´ - that´s a lovely way of putting it!", M.André said. "I also believe our phantom is getting old. Throwing meat on stage… I thought such childish tricks were below him. I guess in his next note he´ll announce that he´s going to retire and buy himself a nice little house in Nice." That remark made them laugh even harder. Erik started asking himself if the concept of the ´tame phantom´ had been born with the help of a good deal of alcohol.

"Maybe he has found himself a nice little mistress.", M.Firmin blurted out, giggling. "And now he doesn´t want to startle her by doing bad things." M.André´s next utterance supported Erik´s assumption. "Even if your sister has given birth to a healthy baby boy this morning… I think you´ve had too much wine. Next you´ll tell me it´s one of the ballet rats." Both of the managers were too busy laughing yet again to hear the small gasp behind the door.

"Actually that´s not a laughing matter." It was clear that M.André tried to pull himself together. "Some of the girls are a little… peculiar, but none of them would tangle with the Opera Ghost." "Why not? I´m sure ghosts also have certain needs." "I don´t want to think about that, Firmin.", the other man said strictly. "We should better go back to our office , now that we made sure the stage will be clean soon." "Do you have another bottle of this delicious sherry there?", M.Firmin wanted to know. "We´ll see." With these words the managers turned around a corner and were gone seconds later.

It was good that Erik wore gloves. They had protected his palms from the worst damage as his hands had clenched into fists more and more tightly during the dreadful conversation he had been forced to listen to. Yet he almost wished there was blood. He wanted to destroy something, even if it was his own skin. He hadn´t felt like this for a long time. As long as Meg brightened his days with her smile and soft caresses it was easier for him to control his fury.

But now the thought of Meg only fuelled his anger. How could these fools dare insult him… and her as well? How could they speak as if all people who concerned themselves with him were insane? Fury spread through Erik´s body like flames. The last time he had had this emotion he had disfigured the left side of his face. Absent-mindedly he reached up to touch the mask with his gloved fingertips. Even weeks later he wasn´t entirely used to it. He had always enjoyed to feel fresh air at least on one part of his face. Yet the new mask covered everything apart from his mouth. Occasionally Meg complained that it pressed uncomfortably against her skin while they were kissing, but Erik would never remove it. He wasn´t going to let Meg pay for his own stupidity.

This time not he would pay either. This time it wasn´t his fault. The managers and their dirty lies were responsible for his anger and they´d have to deal with the consequences. After all, it was his opera, not theirs. It was about time that he reminded them of this fact. When Mme.Giry came to the dressing room it was empty.

Author´s note II: I hope you didn´t forget Erik´s disfigurement. I didn´t forget it either-I just had to wait forthe right moment to tell you how he copes with it. The mask he wears now has about the size and form of the one on the stage show posters. Or like the one Claude Rains wore in the 1943 movie...