By opening night, everything was perfect.

The mask stayed on quite well. The only way it would come off would be if someone ripped it. This seemed inconceivable.

I wore the best clothing I owned, black, velvety, and fitted in all the right places for my body. I slicked back my hair and wore black gloves in an attempt to hide my somewhat abnormal digits. I gave the mirror one last glance, smirked, and with a wave of my cloak turned and made my way through the passageways that would lead me back above ground.

The grand staircase was more crowded that I had seen it in years. Eager upper and middle class opera goers talked and laughed and anxiously awaited my show. I felt a flutter of guilt that I should be pleased to be admired by the aristocrats that I had for so long ridiculed and denounced. I felt a little like a hypocrite, and I despised hypocrites. But I tried not to care. This was my night.

Nadir and Madame Giry were standing off to the side of the crowd. Madame Giry smiled as I strode over, and then I saw the recognition fill her eyes and startle her, as she elbowed Nadir and gestured towards me.

I grinned.

"Hello. You two look splendid, I must say."

Nadir laughed.

"You picked a perfect time to stun us once again with your mask-making skills, Erik…the whole female population of this city is dying to meet the composer of tonight's piece. If so you desire, Paris is yours tonight, my friend."

I shrugged, trying to suppress my smirk. Madame Giry sighed.

"You both are-"

But what we both were I never found out, for at that moment, a squealing girl had decided to pull my arm. I turned around slowly and slightly menacingly, and saw the voluptuous blond who had bothered me the day I had been searching for an apartment.

"Monsieur," she said, grinning, in a sing-song sort of voice "you never did tell me your name!"

I looked helplessly at my friends. Madame Giry looked like she was biting her tongue in an effort to keep from bursting out in laughter.

I scratched my elbow awkwardly.

"Its Erik."

Her eyes glazed over, making her look even less intelligent.

"Erik…" she said, as if letting it simply pass her lips was pleasurable,

"Do you like the opera then, Erik?"

"One would gather I did, as I am here tonight," I said coldly.

She didn't take the hint.

"Some people who aren't fans of the opera at all are here tonight, though. After all, it's Don Juan Triumphant! Everyone's talking about it."

"I told you!" Nadir whispered loudly, poking me in the back.

I sighed. "Uh, Mademoiselle, I'd love to continue this uh…shall we say conversation? Yes, well, I'd love to talk, but I have business I must take care of."

She looked crushed.

"Could I meet you after the show, Erik?"

I looked at her for a moment. She was very pretty…

"Alright then. Meet me outside the doors right over there. Don't take long; I need to catch a carriage."

She nodded quickly and took off to no doubt tell her friends.

I smiled to myself, feeling wicked.

I felt a sharp pain suddenly as Madame Giry grabbed my hair. I almost fell to the floor as she ripped my head backward.

"Ow!"

"Erik, she's younger than you! You can't go meeting her after the show, she'll get ideas."

Nadir nodded.

"You're setting yourself up for trouble…you're almost fifty, Erik, you can't go around just…"

I put my arm on one of each of their shoulders.

"Please, both of you, relax. First of all, she's probably twenty five, at the youngest. Older than Christine…Second of all, I have no intention of doing anything too obscene."

Madame Giry sighed. "Well, alright. Let's go to our seats now, men."

Box five was the same as I remembered it. It was comfortable up there, and I felt remarkably calm as I waited for the opera to begin. In fact, Nadir was the one who looked stressed.

"If your opera's not a success tonight, this could be the end of our new found careers…"

I laughed, stretching out my legs and looking up at the new chandelier I had purchased earlier that year.

"Relax for once in your life, Daroga, please. Have more faith in the Angel of Music."

The crowd waited in hushed anticipation for the opera to begin once more. The lights dimmed, and a shiver ran through the room as the first chord was struck