Disclaimer: I don't own Phantom of the Opera :-(

Thank you so much for the reviews, I love reading them so much, and every one makes me want to write more and more!

I'm really, really sorry this chapter had taken so long to get updated, I went over to my friend's house two states away, and left the notebook I've been using to plan and write every chapter of this story at her house (including the plots and stuff for Chapter 8)

So, enjoy and remember, please please review!

The time approached sooner and sooner. Erik was carefully making his final preparations, for this would be a very special night indeed. A bit nervous yet excited at the same time, he stood in the shadows, waiting jittery for just the right moment.

Finally, the grand clock in the Opera Populaire lobby struck twelve midnight, its loud, long tone ringing through every hallway for everyone to hear. With a yawn, Andre grabbed his cloak from the manager office, along with Firmin, and stumbled out the large, gold-rimmed entrance doors. Drunk, Andre laughed as his hand shook with the key. Firmin sighed, pulling the key out of his business partner's hand, and locked the doors. With a good-bye, they parted to go to their carriages around the corner.

Erik smoothly slipped down the backstage corridors to arrive at Christine's dressing room door. He wore black leather gloves, along with long, black pants and a black suit jacket. Slyly, he slipped a long, shiny skeleton key into the keyhole of her door and locked it with an amazing silence. Almost ready to fulfill his plan, he left with a smirk, disappearing once again into the hallways.

Meanwhile, Madame Giry leaned back against the corner wall to the right of Christine's dressing room. A feeling of guilt spread upon her for spying on Christine, Raoul, and Erik for almost the entire night's gala and on. Although, she HAD to see, needed to visually see him again. Dramatically, she put a hand to her forehead, for who could ever forget that night nineteen years ago………..

After a short timeframe, Antoinette arrived once again to the dark underground tunnel where who nonetheless than Erik was. He sat with a scared expression, leaning against the cold, damp rock walls and hugging his knees close to his chest. Slowly, he stood up and approached the brave young ballerina.

" I brought you some blankets and pillows to make it through the night, along with some dried fruit, you must be starving!" she said to him, attempting to try to lighter the strange and uncomfortable mood in the air. "T-tthanks" he mumbled out, suddenly seeming a bit shocked. "What is it?" Antoinette Giry inquired, sensing this sudden mood change. "I'm sorry, it's just nobody's ever cared if I was hungry at all before, or even comfortable actually. I can't believe somebody actually troubled themselves to help.." he paused for a moment, looking very fragile. "Me!" he exclaimed, and began to sob, placing his cloth-covered head into his hands. A bit unsure what to do, Antoinette gazed down upon the boy in front of her. A needle seemed to stab at her heart, and she began to feel extremely sorry for him. How could somebody treat him so cruelly because of a physical flaw? How could the world be so unkind?

Slowly, she walked over to the poor, unfortunate boy and sat down next to him. Then, to attempt to comfort him, she wrapped her arms around him affectionately. Absorbed in shock, happiness, and sorrow, the young boy placed his head on her shoulder, eventually calming his sobs to sniffles. Gently, she began to rock back and forth, when after a while, she realized his tears had soaked through the cloth covering his face.

"My name is Antoinette, what's yours?" she asked him softly. Shakily, he replied, "Erik".

"It's a pleasure to meet you Erik," she answered with a small smile.

Exhausted and a bit embarrassed, Madame Giry slipped off of her spot on the wall, and left to go to her room, deep in thought.

After only a few moments, the few lights on in the Opera began to go out, as if creepily on queue. The candles lit on the edge of the auditorium's stage flicked out, one by one, as many others throughout the opera did too.

Christine during this time came out from behind her dressing wall, in her long, lacey white nightgown. Ready to retire for the night, she began to approach her door when suddenly a strange breeze blew the candles in her room out, turning the atmosphere to be completely darkened. There was a very eerie silence in her room. A bit frightened, she swiftly turned toward her door and placed her hand on the doorknob when suddenly a robust and familiar voice filled the room.

"Insolent boy! This slave of fashion, basking in your glory! Ignorant fool, this brave young suitor, sharing in my triumph!"

Oh no! Her angel was mad at her! "Angel, I hear you, speak! I listen… stay by my side, guide me! Angel my soul was weak, forgive me, and enter at last master!"

She was playing so perfectly into his plan. Although, he started to feel a bit guilty for making her become so frantic. Christine, his sweet angel, was so naive at times, such as now. " Flattering child you shall know me, see why in shadow I hide, look at your face in the mirror, I am there inside!" his voice projected with power.

"Angel of music, guide and guardian, grant to me your glory! Angel of Music hide no longer! Come to me strange angel!"

In shock, she glanced into her mirror to see a very mysterious man, wearing all black and a white mask on his face. He had a very soft yet stern facial expression played upon his face. The man was very muscular. His warmth filled the room, seeming to her to be filled with an exotic, unique mist. This was her angel; he was the Phantom of the Opera!

"I am your angel of music! Come to the Angel of Music!"

Suddenly, she became allured and drawn to his melodious, unique voice. She strolled over to the mirror, in a trance like state, hardily knowing who or where she was anymore. Wide eyed and amazed, she approached closer, entirely under his eccentric yet extraordinary spell in which he cast upon her.

" I am your Angel of Music! Come to the Angel of Music!"

The distance between the two now was only the mirror, which magically seemed to disappear. Breathless and astonished, she stared in awe at her angel, as he gently offered his strong, gloved hand to her. Softly yet slightly hesitant, she placed her hand his.

A spark seemed to explode with radiance the moment they touched.

Dazing at her surroundings, she barely knew where she was going. Was she having a fantasy, perhaps a hallucination? Was this real? "In sleep he sang to me, in dreams he came, that voice which calls to me, and speaks my name, and do I dream again, for now I find, the Phantom of the Opera is there, inside my mind!" Her angel held a power over her she could not resist, and with bright eyes she stared at the flame lit, golden gargoyle torches which brought light to the glowing corridor. Then, in her astonishment, she gazed at her phantom, feeling his tight yet soft hand grasping hers.

Meanwhile, Erik was astonished himself. He couldn't believe he was with her, bringing his angel down with him, down to the lair. Every few moments, he glanced behind, protectively holding her small, smooth hand, gazing at her fascinating beauty. For Christine really was an angel, dressed in white for innocence, gorgeous chestnut curled hair flowing down upon her shoulders. Turning around to view his way through the corridors, he smirked. Delicately, he continued to lead her underground floor by floor, down a long, spiral staircase. Proceeding thorough the darkness, he lifted his torch higher. Next, they turned past another corner to a downward, stone-paved damp hallway.

"Sing once again with me

Our strange duet

My power over you

Grows stronger yet!"

Perhaps she really was dreaming! Glancing behind her shoulder to see, his voice once filled her ear, commanding her mind once again.

"And though you turn from me

To glance behind,

The Phantom of the Opera is there

Inside your mind!"

Gazing still, she did recognize one thing in this unfamiliar place. In front of her, was Caesar, the horse from La Profeta! As a child, she would visit the Opera barn with Meg, and together they would bring the kind horse sweets and treats. One day though, she stopped visiting because Caesar vanished out of thin air! Rumor said he was stolen by the Phantom, the infamous Phantom of the Opera. Suddenly, she felt two strong hands wrap around her waist and lift her off her feet onto Caesar. They proceeded down a few other wet yet radiant stone hallways. Then, he carefully helped her off Caesar, looking deeply into her eyes for a second with sparkly eyes in reply. He turned abruptly, continuing on to their destination.

In front of them, a lake suddenly came into view, as well as a long, sturdy gondola. The Phantom swept her up in a minute, placing her into the boat. Curiously eyeing the strange unfamiliar world, she lifted her chin slightly to get a full glance. She sat in the boat with her hands folded neatly on her lap, as the Phantom's robust paddling was heard.

"Those who have seen your face

Draw back in fear

I am the mask you wear…"

"It's me they hear"

Now, they began to join together in a duet, singing with a strange, sweet serenading

"Your/My spirit and you/ my voice

In one combined

The Phantom of the Opera is there

Inside your/my mind!"

Suddenly, upon their arrival to the underground labyrinth, large, lit candles held by elaborate gold supports arose from the clear, cold water, making the lair brighter and brighter as they rode closer and closer.

"In all your fantasies,

You've always knew

That man and mystery"

"Were both in you"

"And in this labyrinth, where night is blind

The Phantom of the Opera is there

Inside your/my mind!"

Christine shuddered a bit, as it seemed that voices almost echoed there vocalizing, as if a voice inside her mind, "He's there the Phantom of the Opera.."

"He's there, the Phantom of the Opera!" she whispered to herself.

Suddenly, Erik wanted to hear her voice, a reassurance this was all real. He yearned desperately for his angel's voice, he NEEDED her voice.

"Sing, my Angel of Music!" he commanded.

Listening to his command immediately, she began to sing her heart out to him, her voice ascending higher and higher as they moved closer to shore.

"Sing, my Angel!"

With the outburst, she sang higher and higher, rising higher than she thought she had ever sang before.

"Sing for me!" he yelled out.

Soaring with an echo through the labyrinth, she continued to vocalize for me.

"Sing!"

She sang on the same high note a few times. Then, she felt one note more she could sing, bursting out of her.

"Sing for me!" he yelled.

An unbelievable high note sounded all around them, leaving her gasping for air, as the gondola was docked. In awe, she stared at his every move…

" She looks so angelic and pure, in that boat" he thought to himself, swiftly moving onto shore. There was no doubt whatsoever she really was angel, glittering and breathless before him. Trying to keep himself under control, he continued on to sing to her.

"I have brought you,

To the seat of sweet music's throne,

To this kingdom where all must homage

To music"

He exaggerated his words.

"Music"

"You have come here,

For one purpose and one alone

Since the moment

I first heard you sing

I have needed you with me

To serve me to sing

For my music…

My music"

He smiled smoothly as he gazed once again at his angel, with her big beautiful brown eyes watching him completely. Her chest moved heavily up and down, gasping for breath from the moment.

He was ready, he was ready

To share

The Music of the Night.

A bit of Leroux &Andrew Lloyd Webber movie/ show in here. I couldn't resist the La Profeta horse from Leroux, I love Caesar! Lol

Please, please review!