Hey all! Wow, got lots of good comments since the last section. Thanks everyone! Alright, well this section is a little bit shorter than we hoped for but don't worry, there is definitely more coming. As always, please review. Thank you.

A Few Thanks

shimmeringtears- You rock my socks off! That was extremely nice- like Sum and I were beaming after we read your reviews. I'm thrilled that you are enjoying it, and that you think Raylan is kinky. Ha, I don't really think she is right now but she most definitely will be later- and that's all you get cause if I say anymore I'll ruin the surprise. Really enjoyed your reviews.

CC- Ok, first just because seeing the initials reminded me of a band, out of pure curiosity does that stand for Coheed and Cambria? Probably not, and I probably just made a fool of myself, but just out of curiosity I thought I'd ask. LOL, onto the actual purpose of this, thanks so much for the comment- you also made my day. About the America thing, we aren't bad we just aren't how Raylan described it anymore, but with that I was sort of going off the whole New World, American Dream kind of thing. Now Ethan... I'm glad you think he sounds hot because I intended him to be... hehe attractive indeed, but he's Summy's (co-author) type. I like the darker, brooding and mysterious types... I just write Southern boys well. As for Raylan... well you're going to have to wait to find out :). Awesome comment by the way.

swm- Hmmm, what can I say about you besides 'wow, this person is a really good reviewer'? Thanks so much, I mean truly, especially for being honest and pointing out what you thought needed fixing. I tried my best to shorten the paragraphs in this portion- I hope it helps. As for more Erik, oh trust me, there is A LOT of him coming. Little things are going to happen that requires more of his participation. There will be no lacking of Erik because I and millions of other phans love him, not because the story needs him which is a given, but because he is loved beyond compare and I will get jumped if he is not present. So yea, look forward to many more of your helpful reviews.

Thank you everyone who has read and reviewed, and now without anymore delays, here is the story.

-Olivia N.

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He slipped into his private box as he always did, in his own mysterious manner. The House had quieted down for the night, the stage remaining lit by those who still believed that illumination warded off the ghosts of the night. That meek light though would not keep the Phantom from his performance, his nimble Vitusia.

The Phantom slowly walked around his box, his green eyes scanning suspiciously over the small area. Something was different; he could sense it in the very air of the room- someone had been here. Again he examined all, looking for a trap, the change, the intrusion. At last he found it, there, sitting on the farthest seat to the right of the front row, his usual seat. Sitting upon the red velvet cushion, filling the room with its delicious fragrant was a vibrant red rose. A smile graced his lips; his gloved hand snatching out and bringing the gift to nostrils as he inhaled its intoxicating perfume. He knew who it was from, although he had to admit he was surprised by the gift. The question 'why' crossed his mind.

Almost instantly the smile turned to a frown. There was a second motive, a reason why she had given this to him, but what? A growl of frustration escaped him as he took his place in his normal seat. So many questions this girl filled his mind with, so many wonders. He yearned to know what lay beneath her, to solve this elaborate game she played. Why had she left him a gift, this gift? He was suddenly restless; the urge to answer his questions longing to be resolved. He had to know; no one residing in his Opera had the right to deceive him.

Growing ever impatient and agitated, the Opera Ghost waited for his nightly performance, his monitoring of the dancing protégé. He longed to feel the emotions that she brought out, her graceful body majestically soaring. His eyes glanced around the stage, growing irritated, counting the minutes that passed. Vitusia was always so good at being on time; what was keeping her now? A good time had passed when he had come to the conclusion that she wasn't showing up tonight. The Phantom growled softly as he vanished out of his secret entrance.

In his restless annoyance, the man-like apparition sought out some peace- the only peace he had ever known. He wisped through the dark passages, former melodies playing softly in his head while old memories directed him to his one place of worship; the one place he could visit to remember the harmony he had once felt, before she had left him. "Oh, Christine... why did you leave me?" His lips whispered as he stealthily floated through the dark passageways. No matter; he could bathe in what still remained of his love, in what she left behind in her dressing room. He had only to turn the corner and...

A howl of great despair and rage rang through the Opera House, and all of its inhabitants shuddered in response. He had found the sanctity of her room annihilated. The mirror through which he had taught his love destroyed beyond repair. Someone had desecrated it; their fist had pounded against the precious glass, nearly shattering it all the way through. The horror of such an offense deserved worse than death, and in his rage he decided such a punishment they would get.

The Phantom looked down at the red rose he still held, the gift from Raylan. It slowly dawned upon him what the rose meant. However, white meant forgiveness, not red. The flower crumpled under his crushing grip, and fell to the floor, discarded as a pathetic excuse to cower from the wrath of the Opera Ghost. Rage surged through his veins as he planned out the girl's slow and painful death. He would enjoy her screams of agony, her begging for mercy, her blood running down his hands as he carried out her sentence for the crime she had committed. Make no mistake, the Phantom Of The Opera would have his revenge.

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Raylan had not gone to work the next day, on the excuse that her hand was too injured to work a needle and thread at the present time. This was partially true. She indeed had hurt her hand enough to where it was painful to handle a needle, but truthfully there had not been enough damage done to make it impossible. Madame Giry had insisted she remained dormant though, arguing with Madame Dacio for nearly an hour before she had agitatedly allowed Raylan leave.

Raylan had spent her entire day locked inside the apartment she shared with Vits, curled up on her sofa either sleeping or staring accusingly at her smaller suitcase and journal. She still remained troubled by the previous nights events, and it was all too obvious by her constant muttering and nibbling on her thumb nail.

Vits walked in, taking her lunch break in the apartment as she usually did, and stopped when she saw Raylan lying there. Normally she came back here to work, while her men cleared out. She held her rolled plans in one hand and a pencil in the other. Her tone was cheerfully conversational when she asked, "Raylan, what are you doing here?"

Raylan lifted her hand as explanation, pulling her eyes from her suitcases to Vits for the first time in hours.

Vits sat on the edge of the table looking concerned, "Yes, I know about the hand, but you look awful. Ray, what's wrong?"

Raylan spoke in a hushed tone as if it were a secret, "I've made a terrible mistake."

Vits shrugged, "Who hasn't?"

"I broke her mirror," She hissed, the anger and fear of what was to happen thick within her voice.

"Her?" Vits looked confused.

"Christine Daae's mirror," She sighed, "The mirror in her room."

Vits looked surprised. "He'll be pissed," She admitted, "But why are you all edgy? Sure, he'll be mad, but I doubt he'll kill you."

"Well you wanted to know what was wrong," She pulled her hand back to her chest, cradling it gently.

Vits watched the hand, "That's nice wrapping-who did it?"

"Madame Giry,"

Vits nodded "She's good. Well, I won't abandon you, unless you're dying to be alone"

Raylan sat up then, possibly an act of desperation not to be left alone again, leaning her back on the arm rest as she grinned, "I wouldn't mind a little company."

"That's good, because I have to wait for the lumber yard to cut my order, so I won't have it until tomorrow," Vits groaned.

"Ah, so you're here all night," She sighed with relief, "Well... at least that can guarantee the ghost wont get me tonight."

"Are you worried about a fable?" Vits asked trying to hide her laughter.

"No," She said softly, "I'm disturbed by the truth."

"Do you honestly believe that he is a ghost?"

"No," Raylan spat as if offended, "It's because I know he is just a man that I am even slightly worried... he is a bone and flesh and therefore capable of harm."

"And capable of being harmed," Vits wisely reminded her roommate-something she had had to tell herself quite often in her past.

Raylan smirked, "Yes... but the trick is catching him before he does you, and I have heard such a feet is rather difficult."

Vits shrugged, "You could wait until he does something. There's a reason I'm always armed, and it's not because of the ruffians that wander the streets of Paris."

"I have no wish to use guns," She said strongly, "And I'm not very fond of knives... so what would you suggest?"

Vits nodded "Guns are too noisy. And knives are only good if you're well versed in their use." Vits idly pulled one out from its hiding place, all Ray could tell was that it was on her side somewhere. Vits began twirling it, not threateningly, but as an old way to ward off boredom. Now it was merely something for her hands to do while she thought, "How are you at hand-to-hand?"

"I've learned enough to defend myself...usually. My father taught me how to throw a mean punch when I was younger so I could stand on my own two feet when playing with my brothers," She chuckled fondly, "Least to say growing up with four brothers who are all older than you, you learn to protect yourself rather quickly."

Vits nodded, "Try twelve instead of four."

"Twelve brothers?" Raylan gawked, "Blood brothers? Lord, your mother must be a rabbit."

Vits shook her head, "No, I grew up on a ship of twelve other men-not including my father-and they got pretty rough when they were drunk. I'm an only child, to my knowledge."

"Hm, there's a story in there I take it," Raylan said, smiling curiously.

"Not really, My father was a sailor," Vits basically dodged the truth without making it look obvious.

Raylan continued to question softly, "And your mother?"

Vits truthfully answered, "My father told me she was dead when I was four."

"Is she?" The question was brash and blunt although her voice still held the tone that hinted that Vits wasn't required to answer.

Vits paused thinking, it was a question she had asked herself when she was younger, after she had found out the truth. "Yes," Her tone was cold and uncaring, preventing her from feeling the pain. Vits didn't meet Raylan's eyes. She didn't even try.

Raylan made a mental note of Vits voice when she answered but did not pry further.

After several minutes of uncomfortable silence Vits finally turned the table, "So what 'bout you? Ethan said you lived in North Georgia-what is it like?"

She shrugged, "I can't remember much of what it looked like- my momma and I left it when I was thirteen... but I remember we had a some good land, grew cotton and such... and we had a horse named Whisper, I remember her." Raylan smiled fondly, "My brothers were always jealous cause I could ride better than any of them... I've always been a good rider."

"I've never ridden a horse before, so I wouldn't know," Vits said with a shrug.

Raylan laughed, "Well I suppose on the sea a horse wouldn't come in handy, now would it?"

Vits chuckled, "No, they tend to get in the way."

"I could imagine," She giggled for some time before releasing another sigh, a comfortable sigh. Raylan was relaxing, taking her mind off the present danger as her thumb finally went free of her teeth and rested in her lap.

Vits also enjoyed the break. However for her it was about to end. The Patron opened the door to Vits's apartment. She growled threateningly, and drew both daggers from their hiding places faster than lighting. The Patron had a broad smile, the type that hinted deeper meaning and made Vits nervous.

"Ah, Chalondra," The Patron said cheerfully, Vits's growling with the use of her first name, "I have some excellent news that you would like to hear."

Vits almost interrupted with a smart ass comment, but he kept going.

"I have found out how to keep Carlotta from leaving!" He was almost giddy with glee.

Vits was certain that she didn't want to know the answer-and she was right.

"I have invited Malorea Chalondra to come and stay with us, and even more, perform in our production of Romeo and Juliet!" He finally exclaimed with such enthusiasm it made her want to launch out and end her misery right then and there, but instead Vits groaned loudly. This was not happening. This had to be some horrible dream.

Raylan in her immaturity of the situation inquired curiously, "Who is Malorea Chalondra?"

The Patron looked at her like she was stupid. He started to say something but Vits cut him off.

"The greatest Opera Singer in Europe, and one of the best dancers in the world," Vits sent a glare at the Patron threatening to carve out his heart should he say anything else.

The Patron paled visibly and spoke extremely fast, "Well, I have to go tell the others, they shall be very excited! Good day." He nearly ran out the door.

"Lord he is such a coward," Raylan laughed, referring to the patron. She then very smoothly commented, "So Malorea Chalondra huh? Never heard of her...but... that's odd. Vits, isn't your first name Chalondra?"

"Yes," Vits growled crossly.

Raylan eyed her for a moment, catching her tone, "What a coincidence."

"Not really,"

"Why? Common name?"

"No,"

Her eyes narrowed, "So why isn't it a coincidence?"

"My father gave me the name so I would know my heritage. My mother is dead, she never existed. Unfortunately the women who bore me still lives,"

"So she's your...barer?" Raylan's mouth had fallen half open in surprise and her cheeks had gone a dark scarlet when she spoke this. How could she have been so blind as to miss the connection?

Vits's pent up pain, the hurt that she had buried beneath her calloused exterior lunged out. She had wanted a mother, someone to love her after her father had died-none came. Her voice became nearly shrill, the pain evident in her body and her voice, "How do you explain to a four year old: mommy doesn't want you? Mommy doesn't love you, and she never will! My father told me she was dead to spare a child the pain of being unloved!"

Raylan's eyes widened in shock, and her voice caught in her throat. She was holding her breath out of pure surprise and although she offered her arms out to Vits for comfort, she doubted her cold roommate would take it.

As expected, Vits shook her head, and took a deep swallow, pushing back the tears and the past. She carefully shut the doors in her mind, and locked them, securely once again. "Unfortunately she brings that side out of me every now and then," Her voice had returned to its normal deepness, and she had regained her composure.

Raylan however let her arms fall to her side, heavy with rejection. "I understand," Was all she could offer as she leaned back into the sofa, cursing herself internally for being so foolish as to let her affections show. You can not get attached, she reminded herself harshly, biting her lip to emphasize the importance of her thought. Even after Vits had been open to her, and even if Raylan had willingly allowed herself to let her guard down, getting attached was not an option. Don't get attached, she demanded herself harshly, You know better than to trust, again.

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Hope you enjoyed it, although it was shorter than most. Please review! Thanks all!

-Olivia N.