The brisk sharpness of the cold night air caused her to tighten her shawl and fold her arms across her body in loney hug. As she looked out across the city from her balcony Antoinette Giry could see a few windows alit with the dim glow of electric lighting and she wondered if the lives of the people in those homes were as complicated as her. Her mind was swirlling; so much had happened in the last few months, and even more in the last few days and now it seemed like the new lives she had forged for both herself and Meg could be destroyed thanks to Christine Daae.

The former ballet mistress was unsure of how long she had been standing on the balcony considering the possible implcations of the most recent development in her life. She could have taken solace that th woman's reappearance in their lives would certainly shift any misplaced and misunderstood lustings that Erik had towards Meg away from her daughter and tonthe Victomtess, but instead she felt a dull ache in her heart. She could feel the warm stinging of tears forming in her eyes as she knew her rekindled friendship with Erik was most likely coming to an end.

"Maman, please come into the warm. You will catch a cold and possibly die of consumption", Meg called from the French windows leading to the balcony. Antionette rolled her eyes, her daughter was being very melodramatic - she would not catch consumption from standing on the balcony, but she was correct that she may catch the cold.

"Meg - sit down child! A young woman does not bounce", she chastised as she reentered the sittingroom. Her daughter was moving around erratically, and seemed to be shifting her weight between each foot. It was clear that she was buzzing with energy and was fit to burst.

"You should've see her Maman, dressed to the nils. That dress alone must've cost a year's salary at the Populaire - and then mother, and this is what really got my goat, she saw Erik and fainted! I mean, she fainted Mother! If that is what she really did of course - I wouldn't be sure...she could have pretended to faint. Oh maman, poor Erik, whatever he did was going to be wrong. If he stayed the Victomte would most likely have attacked him, but his fleeing it looks ever so suspicious. Oh maman...think of the gossip!"

Antoinette hadn't been listening to everything her daughter had said, she was more concerned about Erik's wellbeing than Meg's jealousy caused by her current infatuation, but the word "gossip" caught her attention. Monsiour Andre had once said that "gossip's worth its weight in gold", and he was right, which was something that was a rareity. Yes Meg was right, the gossip could very well be Erik's downfal; reinforcing his belief that people are cruel and he is better off shunned from society than within it. He would retreat into himself, go back into hiding. He could possibly revert back to to his old ways - murderous, obsessive and frightening.

"If there is any gossip then you must correct the stories. You were there. Both you and Erik are people of moderate standing, the Victomte and his wife are unknown entities here. People will believe you"

"The entire company were there mother, not just Erik and I. Oh mother, it wont be what they witnessed that forms the basis of the gossip, more the reason of why Erik fled. I am certain there will be rumours of a clandestine affair - people will make a connection as they are both French and she is a singer and he a composer. Oh maman! Poor Erik".

With a hefty sigh and a morose feeling Antionette knew she needed to be the architect behind any story that involved Meg. It wasn't that she didn't trust Erik's intelligence - the man was a genius - but when it came to Christine Daae he was blind. She needed to know that Meg's interests were protected as there would already be people gossiping about her daughter's role in the whole affair. Afterall, the younger Giry was engaged and had accompanied a man who was not her fiance to a social event, furthermore she had spent time with him in his private opera box. The gossips would convienatly forget that both herself and Meg's betrothed were there and turn the whole event into a sordid rendezvous given the slightest opportunity.

"Firstly my child, stop this 'poor Erik' nonsense. I have known the man a long time and I can count on one hand the number of times that, as an adult, he has been in a situation that warrented pity. He is more than capable of looking after himself. Secondly, as you were present, and it will be assumed that you were Erik's date, you will need to make sure that both yours and Erik's backstories align, and that his connection with the Victomtess is clear"

--xXx--

Nadir Khan was mindful to aviod stepping on the shattered glass that littered the floor of the sitting room. He surveyed his surroundings - several chairs were upturned, ornaments smashed and his friend stood hunched over the fireplace. Both of Erik's hands were gripping the mantle, his head hung, his face maskless and his scalp wigless.

He had heard his friend enter their shared apartment not 20 minutes earlier. He had been bedridden for the last week with a dreadful case of American influzena and although almost recovered, at his age such an illness takes a toll on the joints meaning he had not felt strong enough to attend his friend's premier. Looking at his friend's dishevelled state nd the mess that littered the sittingroom he knew he wsn't strong enough to deal Erik's current mental state; when Erik was happy or sad he created, when he was tormented he destroyed, and judging by the extent of destruction Erik Destler was deeply troubled.

"A penny for your thoughts?".

Nadir thought that Erik would be amused by the English idiom, but he was wrong. Idoms (as they called it) was a quiant game they often played where each man would speak to echother in idoms from around the globe, eventually one 'player' would be unable to think of one that was relevant to the situation and that person would lose the game. It was a simple game - if you spoke multiple lnguages and umderstood the cultures of a variety of countries - but it helped keep both men's minds alert while practising their foriegn language skills.

Erik span on his heels, and in one swift movement he turned and held the former chief of police by the neck. Nadir's feet were dangling off the floor, while his hands tried to pry Erik's harsh grip from his neck. The Persian knew that Erik had descended into the depths of his mind, that his rational self was not enagaged, and that the only viable way he was going to survive was for his friend to chose to release him.

Nadir's breathing was already strained as his chest was still sore from influenza, and as his friend's grip tightened it felt like a vice was being closed around him. His eyes swarched in a desperate attempt to find something to hit Erik with while his hands pawed at his throat. His vision begn to fade - It was a loosing battle and he knew it. Then, as suddenly as the whole situation began it ended. Nadir found himself on the floor, hunched over on all fours breathing rapidly. He sat back on his feet, as though he was praying, and looked at his friend. Erik stood stoic no more than two feet from him looking at his hands. It was clear that it had dawned on Erik that he had almost ended his companion's life - his eyes were wide, hands shaking, and it took several attempts for him to find his voice, "I am sorry old friend"

"It's...alright...Erik" the Daroga rasped inbetween strained breaths. He noticed that Erik was running his hand through his sparse hair, which was something he would do when he was wearing his wig and needed to gain some self-control. It was a sign that he was agitated and was attempting to curb his emotions. Nadir was about to enquire as to the cause of his friend's current emotional predicament, but changed his mind when Erik started pacing - circling Nadir as though he was his pray. His eyes were narrowed and in even in the dim candlelight Nadir could identify a fire behind them.

"Erik, please stop. You are making me dizzy". It took several attempts for Erik to acknowledge his friend's request, and when Nadir held out his hand but Erik stood still. "For Allah's sake man, help me up will you!" Reluctantly Erik complied, but as soon as Nadir was upright he turned his back and started pacing again.

"Stand still man! What has happened?"

Erik was once again at the fireplace with both hands gripping the mantle. "She is here. I saw her"

"Who?"

"Chrstine".

"Ah. Did she see you?"

"Do you think I would've done this?" he replied waving his hand frantically in the direction of the mess he had created, "if she had not?"

"To be honest my friend, I do not know. You are unpredictable, and although you have relaxed remarkably well since coming here, I don't try to understand your moods. Am I going to read about the encounter on the front pages or the society pages? I would prefer the latter, but if it must be the former then I will make arrangements so that we - you - can flee the country. I quite fancy England"

"This is not a joke Dragoda"

"I am not treating it like one"

"You are. Do not play games with me Nadir. I am the Opera Ghost, the Phantom of the Opera, the Angel of Doom. Better men then you have cowered in my presence".

"Droll" the Persian said as he poured two large glasses of port.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me my friend. I said 'droll'. You can be very droll Erik".

"Droll!", he roared, "You dare call me droll! If I had my punjab lasso you'd not even be thinking now"

"Good thing you don't have it then"

There was an awkward silence as Erik made his way to the chair on the far side of the room. When he passed Nadir he was certain he saw the man flinch, something that his friend hadn't done for years. They had found themselves in this predicament before; Erik having the opportunity to kill Nadir and vice versa, but neither actually wanting to do it, and they both knew they were safe around eachother, so Nadir's flinching added to Erik's inner turmoil. It had been an awful day: he had abadoned Meg and will probably have to face Antoinette's displeasure sooner rather than later, he had seen Christine and ran away like a small child, and then he had almost killed his closest friend. With a loud groan he sat and and placed his head in his hands.

"I thought I had purged myself of her Nadir. I thought she held no power over me. I use her memory to inspire my writings, but I didn't think seeing her would cause this burning pain within me. She was there with the fop. The Victomte de Chaney, and her his Victomtess. She looked exquisite, perfection, the angel that she is. And then there is me - a vile, disgusting monster, hideous and horrible. She fell into unconsciousness at the site of me"

"Could it not have been shock? After all, she thought you dead"

"Not shock. Just a memory of this abborant face". Erik shouted the last three words while waving his hand frantically in front of the masked side of his face.

--xXx--

"...abborant face" a booming voice echoed down the narrow hallway, causing Joseph Cantwell to stop midstep. He smiled briefly at the two women behind him in an attempt to offer some reassurance, but neither woman seemed remotely phased by the unnerving event.

Joseph hadn't been in his current post very long but he was very much aware of the two occupants of apartment 18. He had spoken with Mr Khan on several occasions, but had only seen Mr Destler twice, and he found the Frenchman unnerving. The young concierge closed his eyes and gulped hoping that it wouldn't be Mr Destler that answered his knock.

He let out a sigh of relief when the Persian gentleman opened the door. "Joseph my dear boy. What do you want at this hour?", but before he had the opportunity to answer Nadir spied the two women behind him. "Antionette it is unseemly for you and Meg to be here at this time, especially unaccompanied"

The eldest Giry woman pushed past the concierge, "oh hush Nadir. I do not have time for your Persian ramblings".

"I am speaking French good madam, as you well know". She ignored him and gestured to Nadir to reward the boy for his assistance. As he bid farewell to Joseph he passed him a few coins for his silence.

"Antionette, although it does not happen often, I must agree with Nadir. It is unseemly" Erik's dulcet tone came from the sitting room.

"Only those with unseemly minds see unsemnly things" came a voice that Erik had not been expecting; Antoinette might venture out into the night alone, but he was surprised to hear that she had allowed Meg to to accompany her.

Meg's words brought a smile to his face, reminding him of the sharp wit she she seemed to reserve for those she trusted and he wondered whether she used such a tone when in polite society or with her bethrothed and his family. Upon seeing Meg his smile broadened; she looked even more enchanting than when he had left her at the opera house - her hair was loose and slightly disheveled, showing signs of having previously been worn up, her dress was a mint green with light pink embroidery, complimenting her goldern hair and complexion. She could have easily found herself in a simular position to Elisabeth Siddell as a muse for accomplished artists and poets, yet she had been on his arm earlier that evening. He wasn't sure if it was the light or the alcohol, but at that moment the resembalnce between Meg and her mother was remarkable. She held herself with the same presence, her eyes and smile were almost identical, in fact if it hadn't been for the stark contrast in hair colour she could easily have been mistaken for a younger Antoinette.

"We have come to collaborate your story". Once again the look in her friend's eyes did not go unnoticed by Antionette, and her firm tone was designed to rip him from whatever fantasy he was currently indulging in.

"There is nothing to collaborate", his attention was successfully returned to her.

Nadir shook his head and placed a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder, turning to address him in a solemn tone "You are incorrect my friend. You were seen with Miss Giry on your arm..."

"and Raoul, the Vicomte de Chagny, looked as though he was going to lynch you" Meg interjected

"And then the Victomtess fainted upon your entry. Followed by you fleeing and leaving the poor Miss Giry alone" Nadir continued

"She was hardly alone. The entire company was there and her mother and fiance in my box", Erik looked in Meg's general direction but stopped short of addressing his comment to her personally. He wasn't really sure why he had felt the need to empthise that Meg had a fiancé but nonethless it was done.

"We need to establish why you fled in order to prevent unsavioury gossip", Nadir said in the most stern tone of the entire evening

"I pay no mind to idle gossip!"

"For God's sake Erik, you may not, but it is not just your reputation at stake" Antionette returned just as forcibly. It took Erik a moment to realise that she was referring to Meg. With a hefty sigh he conceeded and jestured for them to sit while they concocted thier story.