This chapter took way longer than it's worth. It was rather boring, maybe that's why it took me so long to write it. Anyway, I need reviews, I have gone way too long without seeing that little flashy thing that says... "(1) New Mail"

Much thanks to:

Inspector: Always my favorite reviewer :hands cookie:

Twinkle22: thank u so much for such kind feedback!

Jamea: Thank you for sticking with my story for this long, even though we both know it needs work.

LittleChorusGirl: You make me smile:)

Carillon: Yes I think everyone was pleased to see a Christine with a backbone. Thank you!

TroyGabriella 4eva: every thing you say in your reviews when u comment about my story is exactly how i feel! Especially with the... "grr, damnable raoul!" the whole time i was writing that chapter that's exactly what i was saying to myself! Just thought it was interesting, lol.

Thank you to anyone I didn't mention and to all my new reviewers, and this time you get a candy bar for reviewing.(just cuz i got a load of em for valentines day and don't wanna eat em.)

Ok I'm going to shutup now. :readers cheer:

:glaring:

Chapter 10:

He stared at the dancing forms around him, finding himself incapable of seeing anything other than the vivid and lustrous colors of their skirts and the alluring swish of their long curls as they shimmered across his line of vision. They were surrounding him, encompassing his being in seductive flashes of red and green, gold and silver.

There were more than thirty of them, all of them dancing erratically around Raoul as he attempted to see beyond the flow of chestnut curls that fell delicately around every girl's face, striving to catch a glimpse of their mysterious eyes to distinguish who the desirable girls were.

The girls were all stunningly beautiful, and every time one of them swirled her skirt, or twisted an arm around his neck, his body would tremble slightly and he'd weaken slightly under her touch. Before long, all the girls materialized into one swirling, graceful dancer, turning and twisting but still managing to keep her back on Raoul the entire time. He was growing impatient now, and he slowly began to approach her from behind, anxious to reveal the beauty he knew was behind the curtain of flowing locks.

As her left arm went up in a swirling pirouette, he noticed a glimmering ring resting on the fourth finger of her left hand, its solitary stone sparkling majestically on top of its golden band. With a sharp intake of breath he recognized the girl immediately, and quickened his pace until he was right behind her, finally grabbing her shoulder and turning her around roughly. "Christine!" he cried out frantically just as he came face to face with the person he had least hoped to see.

Erik grinned maliciously at him from underneath his mask, fingering the lasso in his left hand, the ring having completely vanished. His beautiful Christine had somehow morphed into Erik, and Raoul was completely horrified. Raoul gave out a cry of fear as he turned and began to sprint away from Erik, running as fast as he could fueled by nothing but fear and hatred. He could hear Erik's tortuous laughs following him as he quickened his pace. He continued to run for what seemed like an eternity, but he never reached a door, a passageway, even a wall. But as he ran, everything around him started to fade, from the luminescent light that was before to an intolerably dense darkness, so thick he felt his chest close up as the last light faded from the never ending room, along with Erik's teasing cackles. Finally, he felt confident that Erik was no longer behind him, and stopped to catch his breath.

He looked around him, but was surrounded by nothing but darkness. He closed his eyes, giving a silent thanks to God for letting him escape Erik's grasp once again. But when he opened his eyes, he was staring straight into two glowing golden eyes, shining like headlights in the seemingly endless gloom. Raoul gave a scream of horror as he collapsed on the ground, and everything vanished into mist.

Raoul bolted upright on the couch, the scream still echoing from his lips. He was sweating frantically, yet he felt completely ice-cold. His chest was heaving unevenly, and his heart thumped wildly beneath his soaking chest. He looked around the small living room, his wide eyes scanning the odd furnishings as if he were a child who had gotten lost. He looked down at his clothing, realizing he was wearing strange European robes. Looking across the room, he saw his clothes from the night before draped across the chair in the corner. He recognized nothing in the room, forgetting for a moment that he had been there the night before, yet he noticed that most of the furnishings resembled Erik's own lair, and he couldn't help but wonder if this were Erik's real home.

However, before he could spend any more time contemplating this new theory as the memories from the night before flooded through him like a hot wave. He felt a wide, mischievous smile cross his features as he reminisced on Christine, laying in his arms as he slowly drifted off into oblivion, he himself knowing that Christine would never leave his side now that they were reunited once more. But, if that were true, then where was she at the moment? He looked around the small room, lit only by the thin shafts of sunlight coming through the extremely clean blinded window on the left side of the room.

Fear rising in his chest, he rose from the couch and began to search every room in the small apartment, hoping with all his being that he would find Christine, slumbering the day away on a guest bed or a sofa. When he did not find her in any of the rooms, he began to cry out for Christine, softly at first, but with ever-growing nervousness and panic. Where was she? Where was anybody? He seemed to be alone in the house, whoever's house it was. He remembered the strange man who had helped him the night before, but he had been too in shock from the night's events to question the man even once.

He collapsed on the couch, hoping it would help him think of where Christine might be. Surely she hadn't gone back to. . .him? Had she? He thought back to when Erik had come through the kitchen door and had frozen over the threshold, his gaze suddenly becoming icy and fierce as he looked upon Christine in Raoul's arms. He had felt a bitter wave of triumph, and had struggled to keep off the smirk of victory from his face. But then Christine had run to Erik, run to his side and leapt from Raoul as if he were a disgrace to be around, and had dashed straight to Erik's arms as if she were a pleading puppy. Erik had simply pushed past her, as if she had betrayed him by being in Raoul's embrace. Christine had looked heart-broken, and looked out the window repeatedly as Raoul attempted to sleep. In simpler terms, she had not looked pleased to see Raoul in the least.

Suddenly Raoul remembered something from the night before, something that made a wave of panic rise in his chest, and made him extremely doubt that Christine had not been 'resting' with Erik only hours before she had come out to find him in the living room. The first time he had seen Erik the night before had not been when he was coming from the kitchen, but when he was coming from the bedroom in the hall! He had walked from the room, looking strangely calm, but his eyes had flashed with hate as he noticed Raoul was conscious. But that wasn't important here, what was important was who had come out of the room only seconds afterwards.

When Erik had emerged, the top of his waistcoat was unbuttoned and his cloak looked slightly disheveled, but Raoul had been too distracted to pay attention to that crucial fact. Then, Christine had emerged from the room, wearing nothing more than a slender nightgown and a night robe. Her face had the same look of Erik's, the same calm and serene look that did not come from a simple nap. Once again, Raoul had paid these important details no mind, as his head had certainly been elsewhere. But now, the realization that Christine was no doubt having an affair with that. . . monster hit him full-force, and he found his breathing increasingly ragged as a hot jealously coursed through his body.

Why? Why would she betray him? Especially with that hideous thing. Was it because he did not save her sooner? He had tried, oh, he had tried for three weeks! He had crawled, gone without bathing, even become an alcoholic all because of Christine. And she repaid him by going off with that monster! No doubt she was probably laying in his bed with him right at that moment, laughing at Raoul's own ignorance.

Oh, he was such a fool! He laid his head in his hands, taking long, steady breaths to calm his speeding heart. Why did he have to fall for a mere chorus girl? He should have known she was no different than the other chorus girls who would give anything to have his company. He had a strong urge to cry, to cry for hours on end and hope that the salty tears would wash away the heartbreak of Christine's betrayal. And to think, he had thought her still an innocent, delicate child, the same as she had been when he had saved her scarf from the sea. But now, it was obvious that she had grown. He bolted from his place on the couch, the warm afghan he had been sitting on falling gently to the hardwood floor. The delicate way it fell was a complete opposite to the rage that was simmering within him. He was overcome with rage and contempt, and his mind was entirely clouded by his desire for revenge.

Christine would not get away with this. She had made him utterly miserable, pathetically helpless, and had offered nothing to him other than a broken heart. It was a complete disgrace to himself, and what was more, his family. He figured that the whole town probably already knew of Christine's whore-like actions, and his family would undoubtedly shun him from the household as payment of letting a filthy chorus girl fool him into thinking he had her heart. No, he would have his revenge. His face seemed to darken as he gave a sly sneer, and he began to formulate his plans, feeling abnormally evil.

Just as he was contemplating how he was going to go about getting into the lair in the first place, there was a brief and sharp knock at the door. Not knowing what to do, seeing as it wasn't his house, he walked over to the blinds and peeked through the glass.

It was the strange-looking man from the night before, and he felt confusion cloud his thoughts as he struggled to unlock the strange bolts. Wasn't he the owner of the apartment? Why didn't he have a key? He opened the door, ready to bolt questions at the strange man, but was completely cut-off my the mans thick foreign-accented greeting. "Ah! You're up. Very good, I thought you would sleep through the entire day. I'm rather glad you didn't, for I require the couch for my afternoon tea." The man pushed past Raoul, who just remained standing, dumb-founded, with the door held open. "Oh, do close the door, Monsieur Vicomte. It is rather cold." The man's tone was light and cheerful, as if Raoul was nothing more than a roommate. Finally, he got over his surprise and started to question the man once again after hastily closing the door.

"Pardon me, Monsieur- uh. . ." he struggled to remember if the man had told him his name, but quickly had his quarry answered before he could trouble himself with it any longer.

"Call me Nadir, and I shall call you Raoul!" The man's tone was still as light as before, and Raoul couldn't help but remember the change in the man's attitude from the night before. The night before he had been serious and his lips had been set in a grim line, and every once in a while he would see his head perk towards the bedroom where Raoul now knew Erik and Christine had been at that time, as if trying to listen in.

"Right, Nadir, who exactly are you? And why did you knock if you did not expect me to be wake? Surely you have your own key?"

He studied the man curiously, his eyes focusing on the elaborate gold designs and the intricate threading on his deep maroon vest. His eyes finally rested on the man's striking jade eyes, and could not break away from his strong, almost hypnotic gaze. He was an interesting man indeed.

"Oh, I'm just an old friend of Erik's. His only friend actually."

His face was no longer cheerful, his grin had fallen into a tense, grim line as his eyes became unfocused. After a few silent seconds his eyes returned to Raoul's, and his face became light and merry once again.

"And I feel it pointless to answer your last questions, Raoul, as I do not know the answers myself."

Raoul looked at the man with an annoyed expression, this man was certainly irksome. But now was not the time to think of that, he had other things to discuss. He walked to the desk where Nadir had sat himself down at and had become increasingly interested in some foreign business-looking papers set out before him. He studied the papers for a moment, noticing with intense curiosity the way the foreign letters flowed from the man's hand as he jotted down odd numbers and random facts and figures. Raoul guessed that he must've been a high noble or something of the sort in his old country, his home certainly had the atmosphere. The man did not seem to notice Raoul's unwavering gaze, as he continued on as if he were the only person in the room. He even began to hum a light tune as he ruffled the papers and went on to a new set of figures. Finally, Raoul could take the man's silence no more, and took a deep breath as he prepared to confront the strange man.

"Listen, last night, there was a woman, Christine Daae, do you remember her?" Raoul's tone was harsh and abrubt, but Nadir simply looked up at him with a cheerful grin on his face. " Monsieur, surely I would remember a person who I myself took in when she had no place to go."

Raoul looked irritated for a minute, and started to question the man again, before the realization of what Nadir had said dawned on him, and a series of lines creased his handsome brow. "Wait-. . You said she had no place to go, my estate was always welcome. Even if I wasn't there, Philippe would surely take her in, was she afraid he would push her away? Wait, what was Christine doing here in the first place? How did she meet you? Why-. . ." He was cut off by Nadir's hearty laugh.

"You have a lot of questions, boy, and you can go ahead and save your breath as I can already tell you the answers to even those you have not yet spoken." Raoul remained silent, waiting for an explanation. Nadir was taking his time, torturing Raoul as he fiddled with his fingernail and seemed to be investigating an obviously rather annoying piece of dirt on the sleeve of his robes. With a slight sniff, he turned to see Raoul's impatient expression, and he fought to fight back a snicker despite himself. He cleared his throat to add effect, and finally began his story, adding 'alterations' where necessary.

"The way I understand it, from Mademoiselle Daae, Erik released her from his lair. Obviously, she had been living with him for some time, at least that is how I perceived it. So, once she left the Opera House, she was not sure where to go, for she was. . . afraid of your reaction to her return, I guess you could put it."

"Afraid?" Raoul interrupted, completely insulted that Christine would ever be afraid of him. Nadir simply nodded.

"Not in the way you think, Monsieur. She was completely overwhelmed by Erik's previous actions-. .Oh, no, Monsieur, he did not hurt her! Never would Erik hurt her," He added hastily after seeing Raoul's terrified expression. Oh, this poor boy, what would his reaction be when he told him the truth? Well, they would get to that. Raoul nodded in understanding, urging him to go on.

"She was overwhelmed by the way he offered comfort for her in her time of sadness, and then ripped it away from her by telling her to leave."

"But-. . ." Raoul interrupted Nadir once more, but Nadir knew what he was asking.

"No, Raoul, Christine did not want to leave Erik."

There was silence in the room as Raoul felt his heart sinking lower and lower in his chest, until he felt it nearly impossible to breath. Nadir looked at him with kind eyes, knowing the hurt that the poor boy was feeling. "Go on," he choked out meekly. He had to know what had happened, no matter how much he didn't want to hear it.

"So, she was grief-stricken, she was freezing, she had nowhere to go, and she remembered me from a brief-and rather foolish if I might add, on Erik's part- incident where Erik forgot to purchase more tea, so he had to bring Christine with him to my apartment to retrieve some from my cupboard."

He ended up stealing the whole box.", Nadir added with a light air of annoyance, before continuing.

"So, I guess she figured that I was the only place she had to go, so I took her in and she told me her whole story."

"And, what is her whole story?"Raoul asked hesitantly, not sure he wanted to know the answer.

Nadir simply smiled gently. "I can not give you that information yet, Monsieur." Raoul nodded once again, and Nadir went on, this time without interruptions.

"Well, after she had informed me about the reason she had come here, I showed her where she was to sleep for the night. I left her to her privacy, and had just begun working on my business letters when Erik started pounding on the door, nearly tearing it from the hinges." Nadir gave a light smirk, remembering the ordeal.

"I opened the door for him, and this is where you come in, dear Vicomte. He came in carrying you in his arms, and he thrust you upon the couch- rather roughly if I might add- and asked where I was to keep you. Rather rude of him, was it not? Well, that's Erik for you. Anyhow, I knew Christine would come bursting from her room any minute to find out what all the fuss was, so I took that time to get his story. Not that there was anything interesting in his, as he is as stubborn as a mule, no matter how much of a genius he is.

"So now, I can presume, you would like to know where Christine has gone?" He asked this with slight hesitation, knowing he would have to tell Raoul the truth. As much as he resented himself at times for it, he was never a liar. Raoul waited silently, failing horribly at trying to mask his curiosity. Nadir stood up from his seat and started to go into the kitchen. Raoul jumped up and cornered Nadir before he even noticed anything, and Nadir couldn't hide the shock that crossed his face at the speed of the young Vicomte. Why, it was hardly a comparison to Erik, but that went without saying. Nadir sighed softly. He had to tell him.

He gestured with his eyes towards the couch, and once again sat across from Raoul in the large, over-stuffed armchair where he had sat only the night before, confronting Erik. He thought of the best way to go about telling him the truth, but still unable to mutter even one word as his mind flashed back on his promise to Christine. She did not love this man, and Nadir only wished the pitiful boy could see it. He cleared his throat, prepared to tell the truth in the most subtle way he could manage. The boy was leaning curiously towards him on the edge of the couch, his fingers dancing impatiently on his bouncing knees as if he were a child about to receive a birthday present. He looked at the man in remorse, knowing what he was about to say would make the eager grin fall from his face and vanish into his features as if it had never existed.

"She is with her Angel." Just as Nadir had predicted, Raoul's visage instantly became crest-fallen as he stood from his spot on the couch, the bitter rage once again boiling in his throat. "So it is true," he spat, glaring at Nadir as if it were his fault Christine was with Erik. "She is honestly having an affair with that monster?" Nadir looked at him calmly, but his jade eyes were cold and icy as he glared daggers at the bold Vicomte.

"Erik is not a monster, and you would do well to not insult him. And Mademoiselle Daae is not having an affair with Erik, so I would relax if I were yourself, Monsieur."

Raoul looked at him in disbelief, as if he had thought that Nadir would be in the same state of rage and jealousy as he was at that moment. He frowned as he returned Nadir's harsh glare, all cheerfulness of minutes before instantly dissolved in that one gaze.

"Then what, Monsieur, do you presume she is doing, if she is not having an affair?" He asked the question coolly, but Nadir could tell that it was coated with absolute loathing. He found himself liking this young noble less and less. He simply stood from his position and strode into the kitchen, followed closely by the agitated Vicomte. He started to prepare the tea, and Nadir could practically hear the Vicomte's impatience seeping through the entire room, and he felt himself sinfully enjoying this silent torture.

"Monsieur, please remind me to the conditions of an affair?" He asked lazily, as if he were having trouble teaching a simple method to a foolish child. Nadir could tell that Raoul did not understand his question, or was taking an extraordinary long time to think, so he answered his own question.

"As I have come to understand, an affair is a condition in where two people become sexually involved why one of the partners is meanwhile seeing another, thus leading a private life. Christine did not leave a private life, she never told you she loved you then ran off into the arms of Erik whilst you went unknowing, did she?"

Raoul was silent. Good, Nadir did not expect an answer. He finally turned back to the Vicomte after finally setting his tea water boiling. With an ever-growing look of ceaseless intelligence, he drank in the Vicomte's stunned expression as he completed his explanation.

"So, you see, dear Vicomte, whatever life she has been leading with Erik is none of your concern, as she never pledged herself to you except for a brief engagement which, if you might have noticed, is obviously no longer taking place." Raoul had noticed, he had witnessed with his own eyes the empty ring finger of her left hand, but had at the moment simply thought Erik had taken the ring from her. Or been given it. He opened her mouth several times as if battling to say something, but always closed it back when he couldn't find the words.

Nadir felt pity for him then, but would not tell him anything that would cause him to act irrationally. He would make Raoul understand. He had too. He poured them both a hot cup of tea, sliding one across the table to Raoul. He took it without a word, and silently sipped it as he stared into the wood of the cabinets above Nadir's head. Nadir gave him a few moments to process what he had been told, and when Raoul's eyes finally came to rest on his own he cleared his throat once more, hoping it would be the last time he would have to explain anything that night.

"She loves him, Monsieur. I think she always has since he first came to her in her childhood. You were, in a way, her romantic awakening, but I do not think it was ever more than that. But she never once thought ill of you or lied to you, she simply was young and naive. She did not understand her desires, neither could she differentiate between the unmistakable pull she felt towards her Angel, and the warmness of your protective embrace. She was scared of his mystique, frightened by his utter presence. He was intimidating, yet she loved ever bit of that danger of him. However, she was always too childish to understand. But as you very well know, she was forced to live with him for some time, and I can only guess that she came to realize her true desires in that time."

Raoul regarded him with curiosity, staring in amazement as the man spoke with such easiness of the true desires of his ex-fiancé. Realization seemed to dawn on him for a moment, but not long enough as he stifled it was the foolish jealousy that still tugged at his heart. Nadir seemed to sense his still-present jealously, and gave an audible sigh as he buried his head in his arms. This man was definitely a piece of word. Maybe even a bit more obnoxious than Erik.

"Where are they?" Raoul asked with renewed strength that was fueled only with his desire to take away all of Erik and Christine's happiness. He had struggled for too long to find her to have her in the arms of that beast. He was already standing before the words were out of his mouth, and had already gathered his freshly washed deep brown dress coat that was draped across the couch before Nadir answered.

"I cannot tell you Monsieur, I am afraid of your actions." Raoul had been expecting these words, and simply smirked as he strode from the apartment, slamming the door confidently behind him. He ran down the steps, nearly slipping on the wet dew that had rested on the railings and rusted steps of the stairs. He continued running, never stopping even when the cold continued to beat against his freshly tear stained face and his weak legs threatened to give out underneath him. Finally, with a heaving, gasping breath, he reached the front door of the Paris Opera House. Knowing who laid inside, he took a deep breath as he grasped the blackened metal handle. This was it, he would have his revenge on Christine and Erik. He wasn't sure what he would do, but he was satisfied that anything that would cause Christine the most pain would suffice. Calming his nerves, he said a silent prayer, and quietly pushed the door open to the darkness.

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Blech, I don't like this one. Review and tell me how much you hate it! Next chap will be better, I promise.