AN: Well guys, here it is- the chapter people have been awaiting! Thanks to Cymbidium, my beta, who puts up with my quirks and helped me out with this chapter.

And I am incredibly touched by the amount of reviews I received for the last chapter...I thought people ad given up on the story, but when I saw so many people reviewing I nearly cried with relief. Thank you for supporting the story, everyone. You have no clue how much it means to me!

Disclaimer: I own nothing, but would like to own a dvd player sometime in the near future...

Chapter 26


There was a fiery red backdrop behind her as she stepped into position on stage. She didn't glance at Erik, who was waiting for his cue from the left wing. Now was not the time to be nervous and bend under pressure. She'd decided her fate, and as the heavy curtain rose and her eyes met the glare of the stage lights, she knew there was no going back. She stepped forward, and parted her lips.

'No thoughts within her head,

but thoughts of joy...

No dreams within her heart,

but dreams of love...'

She knelt with her flower basket as she hit her high note, and she knew the audience would be hers. Now what she waited for was...

'You have come here,

In pursuit of your deepest urge

In pursuit of that wish,

which till now has been silent...

silent...'

She turned to observe him, as he, gesturing, brought a finger to his lips. He drew closer, stalking her like prey. She stood, watching him approach.

'I have brought you,

That our passions may fuse and merge

In your mind you've already succumbed to me

Dropped all defenses

Completely succumbed to me

Now you are here with me

No second thoughts

you've decided...decided...'

He paused, letting his lips curl into a smirk and taking another step before allowing his rich voice to continue.

'Past the point of no return

No backward glances

The games we played till now are at an end

Past all thought of "if" and "when," no use resisting
Abandon thoughts, and let the dream descend...'

Suddenly he was behind her, hand at her throat, and his voice was husky with seduction.

'What raging fire shall flood the soul? What rich desire unlock its door?
What sweet seduction lies before us?'

His hand moved from her throat to grasp her hand, leading her to center stage. His eyes never left hers and his face flashed triumphant as the color rose to her face and Christine fought for air.

'Past the point of no return, the final threshold,
What warm, unspoken secrets will we learn?
Beyond the point of no return...'

Now it was her turn, and she was more than ready to answer his call. Now or never, Christine..., she reminded herself.

'You have brought me to that moment where words run dry,
To that moment where speech disappears into silence, silence...

I have come here, hardly knowing the reason why
In my mind, I've already imagined our bodies entwining,
Defenseless and silent, and now I am here with you
No second thoughts, I've decided, decided...'

Her head nodded her agreement as she stepped closer.All of her excitement, all of her desire, all of her love-- it was all going into this song.

'Past the point of no return, no going back now,
Our passion play has now, at last, begun.
Past all thought of right or wrong, one final question,
How long should we two wait, before we're one?When will the blood begin to race, the sleeping bud burst into bloom?
When will the flames, at last, consume us?'

She seemed to burn as she sang, radiating passion. Erik found himself surprised at her perfection. This innocent lust combined with her voice...it seemed as though she were truly his lover. He recovered from his thoughts and took a step forward to meet her. He caught her in his arms and turned her harshly against him, holding her protectively.They sang in perfect harmony.

'Past the point of no return, the final threshold.
The bridge is crossed, so stand and watch it burn,
We've passed the point of no return...'

He held her close as the music slowly faded and as their voices cleared the lower register. But there was something wrong...there was another chorus he'd been practicing, without music. Now, say it now! His mind raced as his heart beat madly. Say it while she is still in your arms, what you've tried to say all along!


Christine rested her head on Erik's collarbone, eyes closed. Her song had been for him, and her energy was spent. Had she known before that kind of singing? She felt lightheaded and so free in his arms. For her part, she'd forgotten the audience watching as Erik held her, only to be reminded of them when the applause began.

'Bravissima! Stupenda!'

'Brava!'

Embarrassed, Christine stepped away from Erik and both turned to the audience, taking their bows. As a light flashed before them, she laughed in relief. She'd done it. She turned to smile triumphantly at Erik, but stopped. He bowed as well, but his mouth was set in a grim line. Did it not go well after all? Her spirits sank at the thought.

He'd waited too long. In his fear he'd allowed the chance to pass him by. Yes, it was still an excellent performance even without his addition, but he was still so disappointed in himself. Had he been so fully taken in by Christine's performance that he couldn't sing those words to her before an audience?


When the curtain fell, the audience was still applauding thunderously. They were ushered off-stage for the next performers and Erik took Christine's hand to guide her. As she followed quietly, she bit her lip. He instinctively knew what she would ask.

"You excelled, Christine," he assured her. "You sang like an angel." He patted her hand as she nodded her head. Somehow she still didn't seem content. He sighed. "What's wrong?"

"You didn't seem very happy..." She stopped short as he opened a dressing room for her.

"Your second costume is in here." He led her in. He brought his lips to her ear for the second time that night. "It's less noticeable if we find each other on the dance floor."

"But how will I find you?" Her eyes searched his.

"I'll find you. Just keep the other mask on. Don't remove it." His lips moved to a small smile as he closed the door. Before anyone could congratulate him for his performance, he slipped into the shadows of the backdrop to change. He'd find her out there among the dancers, he was sure, and then he'd take her back. He wasn't worried about an attempt to escape, but perhaps only because the burden of his disappointment was so great.


She looked into the mirror in awe. How had Erik made this? And the beautiful white mask? It wasn't an inexpensive mask made of plastic or rubber. As she settled it onto her features, if felt like cool porcelain... Where did he find all of these masks?

It was beautiful, and Christine was impressed by his efforts. He must have stayed up for so many nights putting this together. He'd put all of his effort into the performance, but Christine wondered if her performance tonight had truly paid tribute to him as her teacher...

She turned the knob, and headed down to the floor.


Had it been his imagination, or had that singer looked familiar? Raoul joined the crowd in their cheering regardless – the girl had wonderful talent, and the piece had been something different from the rest of the night's performances. And this girl...she'd been very beautiful, whoever she was.

But Christine is in Paris with another man he shook himself. It was impossible for her to be here. I must have imagined her...

"Raoul!" He turned as a girl called his name. She took his arm and frowned. "You seem lost in thought."

He took a good look at the pretty blonde he'd accompanied to the Masquerade on a whim. Her eyes were green, not soft brown, and her skin was more tan than milky. She wasn't Christine. And yet, watching her smile, it wasn't something he could fault her for. Perhaps he'd eventually even stop seeing Christine everywhere...


Christine watched the couples dancing, everyone hidden behind a glittering facade. She'd spent the past hour wandering amongst the crowd in search of her escort. Which one was Erik, in this room full of mystery? Was he the Prince handing a young girl a pale rose? Or was he the man in the lion's costume, entertaining someone at the punch bowl? No, she wasn't sure where he'd be. Everywhere, anywhere... So she strolled on, eyes darting around the room.

She wore a white ball gown, with wings fashioned lovingly by Erik with light metals and sheer material that caught the light of the room. She was further illuminated by the glittering star burst ornaments that held her hair in place. All this topped by the porcelain-white mask that kept her identity a secret. How could anyone know that she, this glowing vision, was the quiet and ordinary Christine? No one, she reminded herself. No one saw it but him. But hadn't she tried making him aware of other things? Hadn't she tried to reach him as she sang this very night, to make him take notice?

In that dark alley one year ago, as her dreams and faith lay at their dying hour, hadn't he done something? Whether his ways were misguided or not, he'd intervened and saved her life. And that had made all the difference. What could she say, how could she express to Erik that she understood at least that much?

From the corner of her eye she spotted a man in an 18th century blue gentleman's coat, blonde hair tied back. He was conversing with a very pretty girl in soft pink, laughing now and then.

"Raoul," she whispered. She had the urge to go and speak to him, embrace her childhood friend again, but stopped herself. Somewhere in this room, Erik was waiting for her. Erik, not Raoul. I made a decision, she reminded herself. The past for my future. Perhaps someday, far away from this moment, Erik would understand her, and what she'd tried to let him know on this night. Then there would be freedom. But until then, she knew of his dislike for Raoul, even if she didn't understand the reason for his fear.


Carlotta looked up with her sapphire eyes. The blue plumes on her mask matched them perfectly. She flashed a triumphant smile before the skull the young man bore for a mask. "We're in the same vocal class. I'm sure you must know who I am, but if you can't guess because of my mask, I'll gladly take it off." She lifted a hand and removed the obstruction, but he'd known who she was all along. Her manners gave her away. She was the red-haired girl with a prima donna complex, who hit high notes to shatter eardrums instead of crystal.

"You're...Erik, aren't you, Death? Won't you take off your mask? It doesn't suit a man who can compose such wonderful music." Her soft red mouth revealed her meaning in a smile. He suspected she'd heard him playing tonight and was probably out to use him for some means. Possibly even trying to be his next Aminta. However Erik was at the moment too interested in the wandering angel behind her and had no desire to add to her inflated sense of self.

"You know, I'm very attracted to talent." She nearly purred in self-contentedness.

"Yes, well, unfortunately, so am I." With that he walked past the huffing prima donna. Tonight, the mask of Death would not bother with a mere girl. Not when something truly beautiful haunted the ballroom.

He knew what Christine had stopped to admire, and felt something inside drop as he watched her, only to rise again as she chose to walk away once again. He wasn't about to let her go, now that she'd chosen him over that boy.


"Masquerade, paper faces on parade..." Christine didn't need to turn around to know who sang softly behind her. She closed her eyes and turned her head towards the sound, but curiously, each time she could almost feel the breath leave his lips, he moved slightly further. "Masquerade...Hide your face..." She turned her whole body with him as he circled her, relying solely on the sound of his voice. "So the world will never find you..." She felt his hand at her chin, holding it gently to tip it upward. Her eyes willed themselves open to his touch, gazing deeply into the black-rimmed eyes of Death. The green seemed like glowing crystal in that Death's mask.

She saw him extend his hand to her. "Dance with me." He said the words, and they willed her feet to move.

"I'm not very good..." Her eyes darted down to her feet.

"Don't look away." His commanding voice raised her eyes to meet his intense gaze. It was as if he wove a spell around her. Her apprehension at the dance seemed to fade as she took his hand and his arm wrapped itself around her waist. Everything dissolved from her vision except those eyes.


As The Lover's Waltz began, the crowd fanned out in search of partners. Those who'd already found partners began a circle around the room and began their spins. Gently, Erik led her through the slow count, never taking his eyes off of hers. Every few rotations, his right hand would guide her for a spin under his left, and catch up to bring her back into his embrace. As he'd thought, her inability to dance came from her nervousness, not inexperience. Most musicians had a natural sense of tempo, after all. And here they were, master and diva.

When Christine began to feel the relaxation he'd wanted her to, she still did not break eye contact. A shy smile appeared as she looked at him, and Erik found his breath being taken away by how beautiful she was. Could he, in his wildest dreams, have imagined Christine in his arms, smiling for him, not looking away?

And yet you couldn't sing those words, could you? He flinched as he acknowledged that fact. He hadn't been able to trust her enough, to know how she would react, to sing for her. As the song ended he broke contact immediately, much to Christine's surprise.

"Erik?" Her hand touched his shoulder gently. Her eyes were full of concern. "Erik, what's wrong?" She questioned him and he seemed to feel despair well up at her tenderness. If you won't care for me, don't show me such sweetness, Erik thought bitterly.

"I'm sorry, Christine. I believe I'm not feeling very well." He wouldn't go so far as too remove his mask in public, but he brought his hand to his brow. It was quickly snatched up by her hand.

"If you're ill, we shouldn't stay." Christine smiled. "Let's go home, Erik. It's been a long night for you, hasn't it?" She gave his hand a little tug in assurance, letting him know it was all right to leave. Finally he nodded his head.

"Let's go home, then."


The car trip had been very quiet as Christine continued to watch him with a little worry even long after he'd assured her he was feeling better. He couldn't tell her that it was her gaze that unnerved him. He'd failed to change anything at the ball and regretted it deeply. What would his failure mean once he had her in his home, once again locked away from everything?

Christine also thought about her life. She'd triumphed for an audience, but had failed herself. Now she was simply going to return to their sterile life together. It had been all right in the beginning...she'd preferred it when he wasn't near...but that had changed. Now...now she knew everything had to be different.

He walked quickly to the door with her, giving her his coat to keep her from catching cold in the midnight air. He knew it would be snowing soon. It didn't cheer him up as he entered his apartment quietly with her, locking the door behind them, because they were alone now. She handed him the coat silently and went to change without a word. He instead sat at the piano bench and placed his masked head in his hands.

He didn't know what more he could say to her. He'd taught her well, he'd given her the spotlight as he'd promised...he was done. But he couldn't find it in himself to face this kind of maddening silence, even if he'd learned to live with it for so long. It was necessity alone that had nurtured that ability, but Christine's smiling presence had shattered it.

What can I do now..?


She sighed as she hung the dress in her closet. She wore only her chemise now, and the rest of her costume was being put away. All that remained was the white mask. Though it was beautiful, she felt as though she ought not to keep it. Somehow it belonged only to Erik. She picked up the mask and opened the door and went out into the den. She found him sitting at the bench, but not playing.

"Erik... your mask..." She stretched it out to him as he rose. "I don't think I should keep it. You've taken such care of it, and..."

"Thank you." He took the mask from her and turned to place it on top of the bench. He remained with his back to her, unable to think of something else to say to keep her with him a while longer.

"I think I'll go to bed now," she said quietly, finding nothing else to say either.

He knew she was leaving without another word to him, and he couldn't bear it. The thought of another night berating himself for his foolish hopes, for the gentility in his voice when he spoke to her. He wanted to curse her for the way she'd broken him, but he couldn't find it in himself to do so.

"Christine." He heard her pause. What was in his black, shriveled heart at this moment? What could he do to change the unhappy future he'd forced on them both? Turning, he opened his mouth, and his voice came out in a haunting lilt.

'Say you'll share with me,

One love, one lifetime...'

He wanted to stop! He wanted so badly to stop singing, and yet he knew he couldn't. It flowed from some place he couldn't control. His body even moved forward as she was struck dumbfounded.

'Lead me, save me,

From my solitude...

Say you want me with you,

Here, beside you'

His voice stabilized, and he took her hands in his. Those eyes bored into her. Don't leave me, they seemed to beg. Christine watched him, praying. These words...she recognized these words. He'd sung them by himself, so many weeks ago. Anywhere... As he gripped her hand with both of his she felt something overflowing inside her. Her free hand wandered to his masked cheek, and felt for the edge of the mask.

'Anywhere you go,

let me go, too!

Christine, that's all I ask of-'

She ripped it off. And there he was, standing bare before her. There was no deception, no play-acting in his features. He only watched her desperately, and she knew she'd removed the mask and found the man.

The moment of suspense he felt as she took off his mask and stared seemed like an eternity. He could see the tears begin to sting her eyes, and began to look away when he felt the weight of her arms around him.

A kiss. Her lips touched his in a reverent manner. Such a simple, innocent act, but Erik felt as if he could die happily at this moment. She had kissed him for the first time...it was the first kiss Erik had ever been granted! As he fell before her, she knelt to cradle his head to her shoulder. Her tears slipped down to his upturned face, and it seemed so odd to Erik that her tears could fall even as she smiled so beautifully at him.


AN: Ta-da! Lots of stuff happening, mon amis! And, by the way, I love waltz, which is why I included it here :)

Will you, again, answer my call for reviews?