Winter Rose Alchemist- Well thanx! Glad to get a new reader. Sorry you were almost late for school!

Veritasa- wide grin Yeah they won't get Erik. As you can see. But I hope this next bit brings tears to you all's eyes. It would make this author proud!

Also note, dear readers, there may be a myriad of spelling mistakes. Please forgive me; my word processor is totally screwed and doesn't even remember how to spellcheck anymore.

Part the second

I made my way out into the world, angry, frightened, and alone. I mourned every day for Aria, longing, wanting, loving. There was not a time in the day when I did not think of her, and every night I dreamed that she was with me. It was like going thru hell- again. And I wasn't sure I could get out.

Amazingly, I got a job- a good job. I was an agent for a musical reviewing company. It paid well, and it was a booming business. Thousands of 'musicians' clammered to have their work looked at. The police Andre and Firmin had hired looked no further than the Opera Populaire and did not bother searching the city.

But my heart was slowly dying...after two months without Aria, my heart was dying...

Chapter 16 - Without You

I walked along the Paris streets, unable to be in my cold, lonely house any more. But night-time was the worst time to roam the city. All I wanted was to be alone...but not alone. I wanted Aria. I had been thru this pain before, but...atleast when Christine left I knew she did not love me. Now I knew Aria might possibly, and for all I knew she could find someone else. I glared up at the night sky. Why? Why, when I finally found someone...why! I didn't even know who I was yelling at. A whore slunk over and tried to curl herself on me. "GET OFF!" I roared, kicking her away and running. I ran to the stables- open all day and all night. I threw some money at the stable manand grabbed the closest horse to me. The man bridled it, and I leapt up, bareback. No time for the saddle; no time. I raced out, kicking the poor beast into a gallop.

I'm not sure how long the stallion tried to comply with me, but after around an hour, he slowed to a weary trot. "Poor animal. Mercy," I murmured, stroking its lathered neck. I had no idea where I was going, but my heart did. I turned the horse from the road an into the woods alongside us. We traveled thru the trees and crested a hill, and I saw the molten-red sun spilling over the horizon. So beautiful...like Aria...I slipped off the stallion and caved into a shaking, trembling, broken heap. Sob after sob raked my body. "Aria!" I wailed. I ripped off my mask and wig, remembering that day here. My arms closed tightly around her, Aria sleeping peacefully in the cup of my body.

I remembered her gentle fingers, wiping my face with a cloth when I was sick and helpless.

I remembered- vividly- our first kiss, that strange, uncertain night on the Opera House's roof.

I remembered the various ways that she had comforted me, anywhere from holding me to singing for me. I drew Aria's green hair-ribbon from my coat pocket- where it stayed, always- and rubbed it against my face.

The stallion, in search of good grass and rather concerned, nudged me in the back. I sat up, about to give it a sharp reprimand, but instead looked at his soft, liquid brown eyes. "Sorry, sir," I muttered, stroking his nose. Maybe I should get a pet.

A breeze tickled my neck, and I looked back toward the sun. With a sigh, I stood up-stiffly- and mounted the stallion again. Tired of life to the bone but forced to live, I turned him homeward.

The stable man, a older man, took the stallion back and took in my ragged apperance. "You need a lady, mister."

I sighed. "No one but Aria," I said, smiling sadly at him.

A look of amused understanding crossed his face. "Aria, the pretty opera singer? Prima Donna, they're saying. You'll be 'ard-pressed, man. She refuses ter see 'er 'oard of swooners."

I bristled. "How do you know her?"

"Put yer feathers down, good man. Everyone in Paris 'as 'eard o her lovely voice. Jus' about everyone's seen 'er sing, too. Where've you been?"

"I've been...away for a while. What do they say about her?" I asked, trying to remain calm.

"Oh, a shame they say. She used ta be the pride of da Populaire, didn't she? Sang every weekend. But as of lately, the rich folk say, she's a lost 'er voice. The 'aven't seen 'er sing for nigh on three weeks!"

"What's wrong?"

"Ah, 'm not tha informed. It's not been said why, see. But the richies are missin' 'er...they'll find out soon, I reckon."

I drew a shaky breath. "Thank you, Monsieur." I gave him some extra money.

Aria had not been singing for 3 weeks? What could be wrong? My mind went into hyperspeed, worrying itself silly. She'd just strained it.

No, someone had slipped something into her drink. No, someone had beaten her until she lost her voice.

She'd been attacked and raped!

I lay in bed, panicking. I could not stop thinking about it. I atleast had the consolation that she was seeing no suitors. Or was it because she'd chosen someone else already?

Must go see her. My heart said.

No, you will put her in danger by returning the Opera House. My head argued.

I got up and played my piano- it wasn't as good as my dear organ, whom I longed to have- but it was well enough. I pounded the thing all night.

Knock, knock, knock.

I awoke with a start. I had dozed off over my piano keys.

Knock, knock!

Someone at the door? Who could it be? I checked my mask, slipped the lasso up my arm, and cautiously opened the door. My eyes widened. Hans?

Flopped over black hair; pale skin; black eyes. It was Hans.

"M-monsieur Bennette. Can I help you?" I stuttered, at a complete loss.

"I hope so, Monsieur."

I opened the door wider and let him in.

"What can...I do for you?" I asked, bewildered. "How did you find where I live?"

Hans sighed deeply. "I will answer the latter first; the former is the reason I'm here.

I've been searching for you nearly 2 weeks. You hide well, Monsieur Erik."

My eyes immediately narrowed. "How do you-" The fop cut me off.

"All questions will be answered, just a moment! Monsieur Khan would have been quicker in finding you, but I am sorry to say he is frightened of you.

Now, to why I have come..." Hans dropped his eyes and removed his hat, twirling it with hesitance. "Well, Monsieur...it is this: Aria."

I froze, my breath catching. Fear colored my voice as I whispered, "What has happened?"

Hans's eyes got very sad. "She's sick. So sick; we've done everything we can for her, but..."

My hands began to tremble. "Mon dieu..."

"She won't fight it. She says she's cold but she's burning up; the fever won't come down...and she's lost her job. We've been pooling money- Madame Giry, Monsieur Khan, and I- but it's not enough..." Hans dropped his eyes, a flush reddening his neck. "She calls for you, in her sleep."

I felt suddenly dizzy. "Take me to her; Please..."

"Alright..."

On the way- he'd rented a carriage- he explained how, while she was sick, she had told him everything about me.

I could barely hear him. Feelings of fear and excitement lit a fire within my heart; I was going to see her!

We arrived to the front of the Opera House, but I took Hans in thru a secret way. He understood and I did not have to explain. I knew the tunnels better than I knew the streets of Paris still, but right as I glimsped the mirror of her room, Hans grabbed my arm.

"Yes?" I muttered, impatient.

His eyes were unnaturally hard and demanding. "Aria has told me everything. You have broken her heart too many times, and God forbid I let you do it again!" Hans hissed.

My head fell, and I stared unseeingly at the ground. "I know," I murmured, my voice soft. "And in breaking hers, I broke my own."

But that wasn't good enough for Hans. "This isn't about your heart, it is about hers!" He snapped.

I nodded. "Then there is nothing I can say; I have broken a thing more precious than diamonds and gold, but all I can say is that I am sorry."

Now he seemed pleased.

We continued up to the mirror-Hans pressed the switch. I stepped in, and the instant I saw her, my heart began to bleed. My breathing became heavy and quick as though someone was crushing my chest. Forgetting all about Hans, I covered my frightened heart with a fist and let out a soft, tiny moan. Hans told me not to wake her, and left us.I shook.