Ugh, sorry, I know I pretty much promised this would be out sooner but I spent the majority of today so sick I could barely move. Still not feeling utterly good, but I'm well enough to sit up so I'm at my computer typing up a new chapter for my favorite people.

I don't know how you've done it, all of you, but you've taken over my life. I want to write this instead of anything else, even the stories I like more than this. I don't mean to liken myself to such a master but I think I know why our dear phantom was so dedicated to Don Juan. I love this story so much and its not going at all the way I wanted it to, its just running away with me. I know its going to end happy and its going to be an E/M but how it gets there, should be one hell of a ride.

I have given up knowning what's going to happen so lets find out together shall we?

I know you're clamboring for fluff and frankly I am too, but I haven't the slightest bit of control anymore, sadly enough. Somehow these characters have run away with me and I am left in the dark. I want them to get together soon though.

I don't think its going to work like that. sigh

I had never had slippers as nice as the ones that Erik bought for me, and dancing in them I could tell that they were expesive. I felt like a bird, flying across the stage and I danced with as much passion as I could muster...

I am getting ahead of myself, I should start at the beginning of the two acts with ballet (acts three and five had ballet in them but act five was just two dancers, Sorelli and Monsieur Rycroft).

We were all in position, and it was awkward being so far forward on the stage when I was used to being in the background. The first few bars of music swelled up from the pit in front of us and I took a deep breath, fighting to calm my fraying nerves. A battle I was losing until I looked up by chance to box five. A box I expected to look empty even if it was full. There, just by the curtain-I spun once and performed a jetè glissade-a pair of flickering golden eyes focused only on me. Power rushed through my small body and I was determined to be even a better dancer than Sorille, even if it was just for that night. I put all I had into dancing and for that one performance, for just that act, I was as light as a feather, from the tips of my fingers that Mistress Ana was always telling me to watch all the way down to my aching feet I danced with a kind of passion that as a child I had been unable to name.

I was still that child, somewhere deep inside. Little Meg would not leave me but this other Meg, she was scared and skittish. She planned too much and spent her life for other people. I didn't like either prospect and so I was left in this half-way state.

That was why I danced, I realized.

I danced because when I danced I was not Meg, I was not Little Meg, I was not a daughter, not a burden, not anything but the dance. I needed to get better because when I danced was the only time I did anything for me. The rest of my life was spent helping mother, mourning my father. Even the Baron, it was not me he loved, not that any of those feelings were love, I acted towards him because he would help my mother, and he looked to me, as Little Meg. I did not think anyone saw me as anything more than Little Meg. When I danced though, when I danced everyone in the audience saw the part I was dancing, man or woman that was what they saw.

I loved that it was not me they cheered for because I hated Little Meg and I did not understand the Meg that the Baron sought to marry.

When I danced off stage I stood for a few moments, listening to Mistress Ana and the other petite rats compliment me before I felt the pain. I had pushed myself harder than ever before and now I knew why I didn't always push myself that hard. I dropped to the ground, panting and trembling while the girls rushed to get me a towel. As I lay there heaving and gulping down air I saw Sorelli approach me and kneel beside me. "You performed very well tonight Megan Giry. Like a woman in love." I looked up at her startled and she smiled.

"A woman can only dance like that when she wants to show the man she loves her soul. I dance like that for Philippe. Now more than ever because he can see every movement. I wonder though, your Baron is away, whom was it that you were dancing for?" I didn't understand the part about me. There was only Erik in the audience, my mother might have seen but even Little Meg knew that was not the love that the Prima Ballerina spoke of.

Sorelli was right when she said that it was Philippe who had her soul. Of all the men who preposed to her over the years, she said no to them all. She retired when she had to, to a small home by the sea, and Philippe was buried quietly in her garden. But I will get to that later in my story.

She left me there, walking in that elegant way of her's to the Dancer's Lounge where, when I could feel my legs again, I would follow. She was an enigma. I was sure she hated me, why else would the other girls torment me so, and yet the way she had spoken then, seemed respectful. I wondered if this meant that whatever I had done to anger her, no longer angered her. I wondered if this meant the torture would stop.

Just the same I decided I would not leave my slippers here again.

I cannot say that I knew how Megan danced normally. I had never paid much attention to her, despite what I told her mother. Madam Giry could offer me help and services that I needed, the little Giry could not and so she did not matter to me except to convince her mother to do my bidding without question. However, as I watched her that night while she danced I could only regret my earlier dismissal of the young woman. There was a talent there. It was true that I didn't know as much of dance as I did for songs but I could tell that Megan could dance better than Christine had ever sung so long as she practiced.

I could not offer much in the way of helping, but I supposed that I could do more to assit her family so she could focus more on her dance. It was obvious she loved it, even with her raw talent she was a decent rival for Sorelli. She was an angel, dancing across the stage in a mortal body she was not used to yet. I saw her catch my eye and she began to dance even harder. For a moment, I wished I knew about dancing. I wished that I could write entire ballets and watch her perform them. Sorelli was a skilled dancer, but when she danced, she was too angelic. Megan had a human aspect. You could see the sweat, you could see her grow tired. It gave her human qualities.

And those qualities made you feel like you were beside her, dancing with her, living whatever story her dance told. If she kept training, she could be the Prima Ballerina. Christine had little drive. She wanted to sing because as a child singing was something she did with her father, and with him gone it was a way back to him. Singing was not what she wanted to do. She wanted to be with her precious Fop and raise a family. Megan had something extra because dancing was what she wanted, it was her dream and in the end, to marry would be to give up that dream.

Unless she found a man who appreciated art as much as she did, and somehow I doubted her little Baron friend would allow any wife of his to dance where men could watch her show such passion. Sadly men did not want their women to have such passion. I was sure, as loath as I was to admit it, that the passion Christine had sung with on those occasions had scared her, scared her because men did not want women with passion and young girls were not raised to be passionate.

Sorelli had been a rare case. Her passion had been what that fop had loved about her. I mourned his death and I meant it when I swore that I did not kill him. The thing in the lake killed him. It was my fault though, I did not watch over my lake carefully enough and the responisblity should fall to me. I did not know what I could do to help Sorelli, she already blamed me so it was not as though a confession would do anything to help the situation.

I was not surprised that her mother did not come to attend my box even once. I was thought to be dead, only the girl no one believed in had thought I might have survived. I would have been angry about not being tended, but Megan's admission echoed in my mind. Her mother made no money but what she made in tips from tending my box and my box alone.

Yes.

I would have to do something to assist the Giry family. I did not trust Madam anymore, not after her actions had lead to the destruction of my home, but I owed it to the daughter. It may have just been pity which drove Megan to act but after so long of being feared or hated, I could respect that all mankind had to offer was pity. God cursed me with this face, and Megan tried to help despite it, for whatever reasons and she spent her hard earned money on me and caring for her mother.

I did wonder why her father did nothing to help the situation but it did not matter, whether pity drove her actions or no she deserved something, something as a sign of my gratitude and the shoes did not count. It was a gift to me to have her with those slippers for if it weren't for them I would never have seen such a display. I had thought that without the tutoring of me, an angel burning in hell, that no mortal could show such a flaming passion. Sorelli had the passion but it was dampened with her sorrow. She was beautiful both in physical appearance and in dance, but you were always sad as you watched her because she was disconnected, it was not you she was dancing for and you were painfully aware of that fact.

Megan had that human quality that I supposed I could never offer. She danced for everyone to enjoy. Maybe she would be my teacher, maybe she would teach me why it was these lords and ladies deserved such beauty. I certainly didn't know. I had given them Christine and she had been taken from me because of it, so why did they deserve someone who gave them her soul.

I paused suddenly and took a moment to think as thought after thought crashed against me like waves against the shore.

That was the difference between Megan and the others, even myself. She offered herself like a sacrifice to the audience. She would dance until it killed her if she could because of some unexplained, unnamed drive within her. She would give her life to entertain these people and I hadn't the slightest notion of why she would do such a strange and silly thing. For all the intelligence and all the genius I felt I had I could not find a name for the drive that caused that sort of dedication. Megan would die to please her audience. My song, Christine's voice, we two had been selfish with gifts given to us. Even though mine had been accompanied by a curse. I had sung for myself, Christine had sung to bring her back to the days with her father. Even Sorelli who danced-probably-for Philippe. Why was it that somone who was not gifted but worked at it was so willing to give away her art when those who were gifted used their gift for selfish reasons.

For the first time since the Sultana had asked for me to entertain her I was presented with a problem that perplexed me completely. A problem where any sort of answer eluded me completely.

I most certainly did not like to be perplexed. This puzzle, like any other, had to be solved, and I would be the one to solve it. How difficult could a puzzle surrounding a girl who was her dance and nothing more be?

I would teach her to read first. She would only last as a ballerina to thirty at best and that was if she was lucky, so I would have to help her with her finances and her reading because right now I wanted her to dance so that I could work closer to solve the mystery of her. If she didn't dance the mystery would not be solved and I could not have that. I would answer this question and then I could die peaceful. Finally left alone with my pain and my Opera.

Don't forget to spread a few more lines of review-crack for me to enjoy. they make my day. I know I've been good with updates but now that I am back in school and with only a desktop I've about 1/4 of the writing time so I'm soo sorry for the delays which will be coming. I love you sooooo much I know I will miss you as real-life steals my soul so give me some crack-reviews to enjoy.

now on to thanks to my lovely review dispensers!

kate Norris: I think you actually are the reason that I managed to turn out this chapter today. I have left reviews like that to authors I thought far better than myself so that someone left such a review for me, and on a story that has, sickly enough, become as much a part of me as my arms means so much. I hope this chapter-though short-lives up to the standards I have set for myself in your eyes. And now I know that I can no sooner discontinue this story as cut off my arm so you don't need to worry about that.

Quixotic-Feline : Other than loving your name to bits I have more to say. I actually was able to write Erik's part because of your comment, it would have been all Meg again if not for you. so thank you because personally I loved getting into his head.

Erin of course you can love the movie and musical, I worship them, I just love how positivly dark the book is. Normally my works are very light and fluffy and by basing it off the book I was able to expand myself into somewhere where I was not comfortable and try something new, something I've come to love dearly. Besides, how hot are the guys in the movie? Both Erik and Raoul are gorgeous and I love them to bits.

Rownesage: The best? I'm touched!

Dreamspeaker-jt, blondearianne, Nekkyou Hiryuu, and Merinna You are all amazingly kind and I love you all! hugs to everyone!