I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes as I slowly woke up. The performance last night had taken the life right out of me. Then there was the thing with Erik and Buquet, I don't know how we'll go on with that haunting us tonight. Wait. Today was Saturday. Shit, we have to do a matinee show of Hannibal. If there was one thing I could get rid of in this world I'd get rid of matinee shows; now I was in an actual theater company this was serious shit. I looked around at the other girls in the room, they were all still asleep so I guessed that it was about five in the morning. I felt restless from last night. I could still see Joseph Buquet hanging by his neck and suspended in the air. I quietly got up and took a bath. Why did I suddenly take baths in the morning now? I always took them at night when I was at home. I can't believe I'm thinking about this in the tub, how lame am I? What else is there to think about? The way Buquet looked as he was hung in the air? No, something pleasant.

Uwe Kroger, let's think of him. Oh God, that man is gorgeous. He was incredible as Der Tod* in Elisabeth. I wouldn't mind dying if he was there to collect me. But he was only attracted to other men so it would be kinda weird. Still it's impossible to not appreciate his beauty. Uwe was a German Phantom of the Opera. There's no way to escape this thought process is there? I climbed out of the tub and dried off. Erik, what'll happen to you now? What happened to you after you went in that tunnel at the end of the movie? Did you die? I refuse to believe it ends with Love Never Dies. Damn Andrew Lloyd Webber for messing up the Phantom's ending by trying to make it romantical and crappy. Why was I thinking of this now? I'm in the story, it's my life now.

I'd seen a body once before, it was at a funeral and the casket was open. Of course the body had been embalmed and made up before being shown but looking at it it didn't seem real, like it was a doll instead of a human being. It was a terrible sight, not beautiful in the least. It made me want to scream but it felt like there was no air in my lungs to force out into a high, torturing note.

"There you are! We woke up and saw your bed empty, we had begun to worry about you," Meg said upon my return to the room. Christine offered me a faint smile but quickly went back to her own thoughts, maybe of being kidnapped by Erik.

"I just woke up early and decided to take advantage of the fact that no one was using the bathroom, I'll leave a note next time." I winked before tying my shoes, trying not to notice how Christine shuddered.

"The show starts in a few hours! Aren't you excited?" Meg gushed, I was happy that she was excited but I was a little on the fence about this, I didn't have an advantage anymore, between the three months of October and December Erik didn't bother anyone in the opera so the movie and play skipped over it and I don't know what I should do.

"Yeah, I'm ecstatic." I smiled back at her. "I'm going to go talk to Blaise before the show; see you soon." I walked to the door before I felt like I should turn around. Meg was trying to pump Christine up and couldn't understand why she wasn't in a great mood. How could she be in such a great mood after she saw someone killed last night? I guess it was the enigma that was Meg.

"Blaise! You up in the rafters?" I called up from the stage. A few men looked down at me disapprovingly, I guess I was messing with their concentration of something.

"Boo!" Blaise yelled from behind me. I jumped and yelped.

"What the hell?" I smacked his arm and began to walk away.

"Wait, didn't you have something to tell me?" He ran after me and caught up quickly.

"Nope, don't care anymore." I kept walking away.

"Come on! Tell me!" Blaise whined from behind me. I felt a smile tugging at my lips.

"Sorry, you're not important enough." I waved my hand over my shoulder, as if to dismiss him or wave away a fly.

"No, you have to tell me!" He picked me up, threw me over his shoulder and spun around.

"Stop! I'm going to be sick!" I laughed as the world blurred around me.

"I won't until you tell me!" He yelled back at me. I wonder how weird we looked like this; we could pass for brother and sister if attitudes were on the outside.

"You'd better stop before my foot makes love to your face!" Finally he set me down, my head was spinning like a top and I had to keep my feet rooted to the ground or else I'd fall or stumble around like a girl who couldn't hold her liquor.

"Now tell me." Blaise looked like he had just won some long game of monopoly or something.

"I was just wondering if you wanted to go for drinks before the show." Wildly inappropriate but I was feeling a bit antsy and we had at least three hours before the matinee show.

"Depends, would you be paying?" Blaise crossed his arms, trying to look like he was considering it even though I already knew he was onboard.

"Oh yes. My salary has skyrocketed to the moon and I have enough to buy a small town," I said sarcastically. Blaise clasped his hands together gayly.

"Then I'd love to! I'm going to get my coat and have someone cover for me."

"I'm going to get my gloves and coat so let's meet in the front in ten minutes." We went our separate ways to get our things and go. When I got back to the dormitories it was almost empty.

"Where is everyone?" I asked Isabelle, she was lying on her bed with her eyes half open.

"Most of the girls went to practice, I chose to stay here and relax before the show." She looked at my gloves and coat that I was pulling on. "Are you going out?" She asked.

"Yeah, I'll only be gone for an hour though." She shrugged, not caring i I did, only that I came back safe and on time.

"Stay close to the Opera, we go on in three hours." I nodded and left, closing the door behind me. I waited by the stairs while Blaise haggled for his freedom. You never think you're gonna get a great gay friend by chance but it felt good to have one. Sure there are plenty of gay men in my school but they all talked about who they hooked up with. Ha ha, what? I don't want to deal with that. Though I'm sure they would have put up with me out of pity. Everyone knew what happened to me, I'm glad that they have more sense than to ask me about it. They had all seen my scar, it's not like I try to hide it. I wear bikinis and even crop tops. When we were younger they used to gawk at me but the older kids left me alone, the younger ones still stare at me in the hall. It's one of my favorite games to go up to them and whisper 'Wanna see my scar?' it usually gets them to turn white and run away. Dumb freshman.

I had decided to sit down and rest my legs when a letter came fluttering out of nowhere. The heavy red skull seal landing face down on the marble floors in front of me. Crap. I looked around the ceiling but I couldn't see a trace of Erik. I bent and picked up the letter, dreading what it was going to say.

Dear Danielle,
I would not do that if I were in your place.
Erik

Crappity crap crap. How will I tell Blaise that drinks were off?

"Dee! I'm ready, let's go!" Blaise ran up to me and tugged me to the door.

"No can do, the Phantom says otherwise." I showed him the skull seal and Blaise visibly paled. "We can still go out for lunch I guess, but that won't be as fun." I tried to smile and Blaise let out a shaky breath.

"That sounds great. Let's go." We walked out the door feeling eyes on us. Blaise still looked whiter than normal when we got to the restaurant; I decided to ask what was wrong. "I've never been in trouble with the Phantom before. They say if you mess up twice he'll kill you." He rubbed his arms in the invisible chill."Just look at what happened to Buquet; he kept trying to catch the Phantom, kept boasting how the Phantom was no match for him, and now he's dead. I don't want to end up like him." Blaise acted like Erik could still hear him. I bit the inside of my lip and rolled it between my teeth, what was I going to say to stop him from being so afraid?

"Well, Buquet was a bastard. I know you're not supposed to speak ill of the dead, but he was the worst man in the Opera Populaire. He deserves what he got and worse, I hope that bastard was terrified before he died." Well, that was dark. Nice going inner me, way to make your friend think you're a psychopath.

"Yes, he was a bad man, but how can you say he deserved to die? How can anyone deserve to die?" Blaise finished his food and I payed the bill.

"One day you'll understand," I said. And maybe he would; maybe he would see the horrors of World War I and he would see and understand how people could deserve to die. Blaise would be and old guy then, I realized, too old to fight. I hope by then he had found someone to love.

"What are you talking about? Do you know someone that deserves to die?" He got quiet for a minute. "Was it the man who hit you?" I looked at him, surprised. "I didn't say anything at the time, but I was worried for you. What happened?"

"It was the Phantom, I took a bottle of wine away from the kitchen, he saw and he slapped me blue." Blaise looked afraid all over again. "Let's go back, I need to get ready for that hellish matinee show." blaise still looked afraid but nodded and got up. "Let's go drinking after the show tonight, the Phantom can't tell us not to then, we won't have to be sober to do anything." He smiled down at me.

"Sure," we went up the steps and walked our separate ways, "don't do anything stupid, you hear?" He called back to me. I grinned and flipped him off.

"Don't tell me what to do!" He placed his hand over his heart and fake cried.

"You're so mean to me." I blew him a kiss and walked away.

ERIK
Danielle was talking to the stage hand again; I still didn't approve of him, he seems like he's hiding something. I turned and walked back to my home. Why did Danielle drink so often? I've seen her with a flask as well, taking quick gulps of whatever alcohol it was filled with; drinking so often couldn't be good for her. Wait, why am I worrying for her? It's her choice, why should I get involved?

I pulled down the drawing of Danielle I drew the night before; she smiled back at me in black and white on the page. For the first time I wished I had paints to fill in the colors, put life into my work. I left my home, the walls seemed to press into me. I needed to talk to Danielle.

I walked through the passageways that connected to the dressing rooms and backstage. Danielle was leaning against a wall with her eyes closed, rotating her head and rolling her shoulders. By the set of her eyebrows she was upset over something. I pulled her by the arm into a dark corner where no one would notice us. Her eyes flew open and she raised her fist to strike whoever was pulling her; seeing that it was I she lowered her hand and gave me one of her looks, one that said 'what the hell do you think you're doing?'

"I'm sorry, is it time for me to be kidnapped? I thought my appointment was moved to next week," she said sarcastically. Her hands were on her hips and her eyebrow raised, she tried to look mad but she was smiling. "Can't you contact me like any normal human being by, I don't know, knocking on my door?"

"I'm the Phantom, I do what I want; besides, could you ever see me knocking on a door in my own theater?" She rolled her eyes before speaking again.

"So what do you need? Does it have anything to do with my efforts to get wasted before the matinee show?"

"Yes, but more of the question it brought up." Her eyebrow raised in lack of care, she knew that I wouldn't do anything to her again and seemed like she had deemed it appropriate to test my patience.

"Well spit it out," she urged. "I have to go back soon, they're going to come looking for me in a second, and I don't think that it'd be good for me to be caught talking with the Phantom."

"Are you an alcoholic?" I clenched my jaw, surprised at my own bluntness. Danielle's mouth hung open for a second, too stunned to speak.

"No, I'm not an alcoholic, so stop your worrying." She smacked the back of my head. "Why would you think that?"

"Because you drink just as often as those drunken stage hands in the rafters, how can you tell me you're not an alcoholic?" My voice got rougher as my accusation left my lips.

"Don't you know? Alcohol is a natural blood thinner. My medicine can't do all the work; I just drink to help it along." She looked at me haughtily. "Where's your accusations now, Mr hot-shot Phantom?" She took my hand and placed it on her rib cage, just below her breast. I tried to pull away but she held my hand there. "Feel my heartbeat Erik. Feel the broken rhythm." I tried to focus on the beating of her heart and not the fact that I was almost cupping her breast.

Sure enough I soon felt it against my hand. Bump, bumpbump. There was a soft echo after the second beat, making it irregular and a bit uneven. I knew that this had been caused by the damage her father had dealt her when he attempted to murder her. How is she not moving away from my hand? It is so close to her. I had never been this close to a woman before, then again, Danielle had held my head against her bosom before. She seemed to read my thoughts as an evil smile had crept across her face. She let my hand drop; I pulled it quickly to my side.

"Getting bothered? How old are you now, thirty five? Gotta get frustrated, being an old virgin and all." Anger licked in my mind as she laughed at her own joke.

"Hardly, the sins of the body hold no interest for me." I lifted my chin defiantly. Her eyes slitted.

"Not even the sins of my body?" She wrapped her hand around my neck, pulling me forward and pressing our bodies together. I could feel her hips pressing against mine through her white costume. Her lips met my throat, right over my pulse. I felt my heart rate quicken and her lips curve up as she smiled against my skin. "I can feel your heart racing." Her lips brushed against my jaw, I could feel a shudder ripple through my body. I inhaled her scent of jasmine, roses and baby powder. Time stood still for a moment. Soon she pushed me away. "Well, this escapade's been fun, but I have a matinee to do." She skipped for our hiding place into the open.

"Tease." I muttered. She turned and winked at me.

"And don't you forget it." I watched as her hips swayed back and forth as she walked away before disappearing behind some pieces of stage. I turned and walked to my box, determined to keep what just happened from my mind. I didn't take my eyes off Danielle the entire show.

DANIELLE
I can't believe I just did that. Why did I do that? There was absolutely no good reason for me to risk my life for nothing. Yep, that was a bad idea. But God, was that funny. Not 'I'll totally die for this' funny but funny enough. It felt kind of nice holding someone like that. I stopped walking and gently slapped my cheeks. There was no thinking that; Erik was going to fall in love with Christine, get his heart broken and love her until the day he died, he has one of those obsessive personalities.

I went onstage and recited my lines mechanically, I went on autopilot the rest of the show and soon it was over.

"Hey Dee, you feeling okay?" Blase came down to congratulate me but clearly noticed something was up.

"Nothing's wrong with me, but you look like you're about to birth a cow." Blase's face was pale, almost green. "Sup with you?" I put my hand to his forehead. "Are you sick?"

"No, no." He looked around nervously. "It's just... my dad is in the audience. He likes to come see the shows just to torture me." I stared at him blankly.

"Your father?" I asked, not sure I fully understood.

"Yeah, I told him I was... interested in men and he didn't take it so well; he kicked me out the next day. Luckily I was able to get a job and move in here before having to resort to sleeping in a park. My father told me that if I wanted to come home I would have to apologize for what I was and marry the girl my parents had picked out for me. I couldn't do it. Not just for me but for Mirabelle; she's a childhood friend of mine and it would break her heart to enter a passionless marriage with her, she's too good for that." Blaise looked completely tortured.

"Why don't we go out for a cup of tea? I would offer alcohol but someone may be listening." I pointed up and Blaise got my meaning. "I'm going to go get dressed, wait for me by the front door." I turned to walk away, an idea forming in my mind.

I walked out of my dressing room and down the hall. There were quite a few flowers and men wanting dates in the hall and some people who just wanted to compliment us on our work. I looked through the crowd and found a man with dark hair who looked almost identical to Blaise, showing only the graceful parks of age here and there. I made a beeline for him and made my way over.

"Good evening Monsieur, I hope you enjoyed the show." I smiled up at him, trying to come off as sweet and nice as possible. He turned to face me, a little amusement on his face.

"Yes, Madame, I enjoyed it very much. Quite splendid really." He squinted at me for a moment before he realized I was in the show. "You sang wonderfully; I might have to come to see it again." I smiled at him again. I looked around and caught Blaise staring, horrified, at his father and I.

"I'm sorry Monsieur, but I promised a good friend of mine that I would take him out for tea; I must say goodbye." I curtsied to him.

"Your fiancee Madame?" He asked. What business of it was his? I plastered another smile on my face.

"Oh no, just a friend who works here as a stage hand. He's quite the kind man." I turned and walked towards Blaise, making sure that his father saw us walk out the door together.

"Why would you do that?" Blaise whined as we got out of the crowd trying to escape the theater.

"Because I wanted to talk to him for myself. He seems like an arrogant and sad man." Blaise grunted, not wanting to talk about it anymore.

"Hey guys, wait up!" We turned to see Henri coming towards us. I grinned and waited for him. Blaise turned pink and looked away. "Where are you going?"

"Just to the cafe a few blocks away."

"Do you want to come?" Blaise piped up. Good, I thought I'd have to do all the talking.

"Sure." We fell into a pace together.

"You realize I'm not paying for you two, right?" Blaise put his hand to his head in a fake swoon and Henri mimed hysterical crying. "Why are all my guy friends such Queens?" Blaise turned red and darted his eyes to Henri.

"What's a Queen?" Henri asked. Time to lie.

"A drama queen."

"Oh." Henri looked appeased and Blaise shot daggers at me through his eyes. I ignored him and went into the shop.

As we sat enjoying our tea and each others company I could feel the tension leave the air and we talked like everything was normal again.

"I have something to say," Henri said, putting his tea down. We turned to look at him and give him our undivided attention. "I'm not going to stay at the Opera Populaire anymore. My father is ill and I need to go back home and run his shop until he gets better."

Sorry it took me so long to update, I've got wicked writers block. Sorry this chapter's so boring but I hope you liked it. Remember to review and the characters belong to their rightful owners.