Clearly, by certain reviews, this story is not for everyone; and I certainly respect the opinions of all. Do not feel the need to continue to torture yourself by reading - there are plenty of other stories out there, written by much better writers than I am. I hope you find one you enjoy.

My writing is a release for me - of frustrations in various areas of my life, of creativity, and my emotions. I write because I enjoy it. I'm not here to impress anyone or outdo anyone; I simply enjoy it. If anyone has any questions about me, my profile is pretty extensive.

For my regular reviewers, thank you for your support and encouragement; you keep me going. Thank you, also, to my wonderful beta, Mlle.Fox. I do hope that all of you have paid her profile a visit and are taking part in the "award" ceremony that she is planning. I know that I have submitted the names of my favorites, in all categories that pertain to the stories and authors that I have read.

Enjoy my lovelies!

DARK SIDE OF THE GLASS

CHAPTER 12

Four shadowed figures sat in the back of the auditorium listening to the orchestra dabble with their instruments and warm up. They had come in just in time to see the conductor slouch over the music stand and bury his head in his hands; muttering incoherently.

He was a tall man, slender but seemed strong in his movements. He was exasperated, but his temper seemed in check. There was something faintly familiar about him.

He was exasperated; there was no other word to describe it. The lead violist was ill and the entire section seemed to rely on that one man to come in on time. They were dreadful without him.

His temper was in check, but he was not sure how long he could keep it so. He seemed to have mellowed over the last four years – maybe a good thing, maybe not – but music was one area where he would not compromise.

"You must count, in your head, and be ready to come in on the third beat of the fifth measure….I clearly direct your entrance…" he was trying to keep his voice down, but his patience was wearing thin. "…there is nothing more I can do other than play it myself; that is, however, not an option!"

The strength and force behind his words carried through the auditorium and those sitting in the shadows immediately took notice. None of them had ever seen him commanding his element; never seen his genius at work. It instilled a sense of wonder and awe in three of the four; the other was feeling slightly intimidated but somewhat awed.

The old hatred Raoul felt for Erik came flooding back into him – if only as an echo, but he felt it burning within his heart. There was nothing to hate anymore, and he knew this; but the man made Raoul envious – which made no sense to him.

The whole section stared at the conductor, dumbfounded. They had no suggestions and they were lost without Charles.

"Let us try it again…watch me this time…Stuart…" the second violist quickly lifted his head and smiled grimly, "…watch me closely – the other's will follow you so count and be ready – I will direct your entrance."

Erik lifted his hand and elegantly looped the baton in the air. The clarinets and flutes began their melody with the French horns making their entrance at the appropriate time. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the feel of the music as it coursed through him…his heart and soul came back to him as the melody filled him.

This time, Stuart had counted correctly and the violins came in on time. Erik smiled, with his eyes still closed, and did not miss one beat. He knew each intricate nuance of the music and by the end of the song – he felt justified in his demands.

"That was superb…" he bowed his head toward Stuart, thanking him for doing it correctly. "…excellent job Stuart."

"Now, we will go on to the love aria for Silvia and Yerik….Tarrah…" Erik called, knowing she wasn't far off.

She came immediately, having heard the last song and knowing that her session was up next.

"Yes?"

"We are going to practice the love ballad. Where is Jacob?"

The young male lead ran out on stage and took his place as they both prepared to sing.

Erik took a few moments to set the stage…

"Remember, they have just confessed their love…although it is a secret love. They cannot risk being discovered for he is a lowly Russian military man and she is an English lady – promised to a baron on her eighteenth birthday.

"The prospect of marriage to the English baron is causing Silvia to despair and she must declare her love for Yerik – if only to herself – knowing that their love is doomed.

"They share one night of forbidden passion – neither one of them willing to fight their love." He stops for a minute to picture the scene in his head, "The morning after, they decide to throw caution to the wind and leave together – starting a new life elsewhere – away from the demands of their separate lives.

"They are captured and Yerik is imprisoned and that is where we pick up…Silvia is singing to him from outside his cell and he answers her from inside."

Neither Erik nor Tarrah were aware of the four people that had made their way into the opera house and sat down in the back row.

Tarrah heard the beginning notes and closed her eyes.

"A time for us, some day there'll be…
when chains are torn by courage born of a love that's free.
A time when dreams so long denied can flourish…
as we unveil the love we now must hide.

A time for us, at last to see…
a life worthwhile for you and me"

Tarrah's voice filled the auditorium and the purity of it drew tears to the eyes of all that listened. Christine knew this girl was everything Erik had wanted her to be; but she had thrown it back in his face.

Jacob followed with his part – a flowing baritone filled with his youth and vigor.

"And with our love, through tears and thorns…
we will endure as we pass surely through every storm.
A time for us, some day there'll be a new world…
a world of shining hope for you and me…

for you and me"

Their voices joined and the sound was that of pure beauty.

"And with our love, through tears and thorns…
we will endure as we pass surely through every storm.
A time for us, some day there'll be a new world…
a world of shining hope for you and me.

A world of shining hope for you and me."

"A Time for Us", from the musical, "Romeo and Juliet"

Words by Larry Kusik and Eddie Snyder and Music by Nino Rota

The music ended and the auditorium went deathly still…but Erik's expert hearing centered on a quiet weeping coming from the back of the theater.

He dismissed it, thinking it was probably Hammond's wife and two daughters – they were always sneaking in and watching the practices. The girls were twelve and fourteen, and fancied themselves as future performers.

"That was well done, thank you." Erik complimented, "Jacob, on the last line that the two of sing together, your voice is a bit overbearing…soften your tone just a bit."

The young man nodded and smiled shyly at Tarrah. He was nineteen and thought she was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen.

"Thank you, Monsieur Lacroix, I will work on that."

Erik raised his brow and watched the young man slowly leave the stage, stumbling over various props and other things; his eyes never leaving Tarrah.

In the darkened seats, those listening felt the sadness of the lyrics and the haunting music; the sweeping melancholy of the romance was breathtaking, and Annette wondered how a man who had never known romantic love could understand it so perfectly.

Now, that they sat just mere feet from him - none of them wanted to approach him. He was not the same man in many ways, but the commanding aura he had always possessed still surrounded him; and he still elicited the tiniest glimmer of fear within their hearts; not because of who had been, but because of who he was; an unheralded genius whose work surpassed almost every other piece of work out there.

Finally, Raoul stood up and began the descent down the aisle and toward the stage. Annette followed him and they moved purposefully, but slowly.

Erik was completely unaware of their slow approach and had forgotten about there being anyone listening to them.

"That boy cannot keep his eyes off you."

Erik's tone was teasing; and he wore an ornery smirk as he stared at Tarrah. He knew the young tenor was interested in courting her; however, she was only seventeen – almost eighteen – and Erik would not think about that fact.

"Jacob…" she wrinkled her nose and shrugged her shoulders, "…he is sweet, but he is entirely too…" she closed her eyes in thought, "…normal for me."

Her face was wistful and she held her finger against her lip in thought.

Erik breathed deeply, closed his eyes in contemplation, and decided to continue with his interrogation.

"Normal…that is what I would want for you, Tarrah, normalcy; explain what you mean?"

She shrugged her shoulders while he picked up music and straightened up the stage area.

Raoul and Annette had stopped, enjoying the verbal teasing that Erik and Tarrah were sharing. They still were not visible, standing just inside the shadow.

"I dan't know….I really enjoy people that have a story to tell…whose lives have not been one perfect moment after another."

She walked up to Erik and wrapped her arms around his waist in an act of affection. He bolted upright and stiffened beneath her touch, but she did not relent.

He did not yield his stiffness, but did pat her on the back with a familiar, fatherly touch. The young girl didn't seem to notice his stern stance, but basked in his secure presence.

"Does this mean that you are going to break that boy's heart in search of some abnormal young man with a story to tell…you live with one of those every day of your life; well, maybe not young – but definitely abnormal?"

His tone was scolding, but Tarrah knew that he didn't think he had any redeeming qualities.

"Are there any more men like ye out there…younger, but just as fascinating?"

Erik couldn't stop the laugh that he let out; he seldom gave into that strange sensation – but Tarrah had a way of bringing it out of him. She was a spirited young woman with a sharp mind and a cunning wit. She knew what she wanted and, more often than not, got it.

"You are hopeless…you certainly do not need someone like me." He let her go and resumed his previous activity. He talked while he tidied up, "Not long ago, I would have given anything to be normal; to have a normal, beautiful wife and a brood of sickeningly normal kids to share my boringly normal life."

Tarrah turned in time to see him drop his head and face the cold, hard truth that he was sure would be the summation of his life.

"That will never be…so, I have made it my quest to make sure that you do not spend the rest of your days with anything less then your personal prince charming."

It was at this time that he noticed the shadowed figures standing just outside his line of vision. The lighting was poor, and Erik couldn't make out any features; but there was something vaguely familiar about them.

"Excuse me…the opera is closed to visitors at this time."

There was no immediate response, and suspicion was settling in.

His alert eyes widened at the four people that emerged from the shadows and climbed up the stairs toward him.

He braced his feet firmly and felt the power surge through him, expecting trouble. A young man approached him warily – a man who had been a boy when he had last seen him.

His animal-like reflexes were poised for the fight, if it came to that; and he could hear his heart beating frantically within his chest. He remained calm in the face of those who had had betrayed him and left him for dead - except Madam Giry, of course.

Is this it? Have they finally come to their senses and decided to rid the world of my hideous existence?

He almost wanted to laugh at the poetic justice of it all – he was finally finding a place to call home…a place he could at least attempt to be a man and not a monster. However, as he had known for his entire life, he was unworthy of such things and fate had come to collect on the debt he owed for having four years of semi-contentedness.

His alert gaze moved from the young nobleman to a face he had thought, and hoped, never to see again.

He didn't linger on her, not wanting to give the impression he still desired her; because he did not – from that, at least, he was free.

"Annette?"

She moved forward, taking the lead where the others dared not go. He continued to stand still and erect – not understanding why she had brought them to him; he felt betrayed and exposed.

"Why…why did you bring them here?"

The dark fury in his quietly threatening tone would have made most people tremble in his presence; but this woman knew him.

"I trusted you with my location…I now regret having given that trust."

The green in his eyes burrowed into the warm gray of hers – and she could not hold his gaze.

"You need not regret anything; Erik…we come in peace."

Her tone was motherly, but he refused to be duped into thinking that the de Chagny's were here on a peaceful mission.

He had almost forgotten about Tarrah. She stood just to the right of him with a curious and inquiring look on her face. She could see his visible trembling – but she knew he felt no fear, only anger and betrayal.

He turned to her and she smiled at him, hoping to lend him her support. She could tell the visitors distressed him; and the accents were French – so she assumed they must be from his past.

"Tarrah, these people are past acquaintances of mine."

Tarrah lifted her blue eyes to look into the faces of those who had once caused Erik a great deal of pain and heartache. Although the young couple seemed tense around him, the woman raked her eyes over Erik's form with admiration – or was it desire?

"This is Tarrah Sheldon, my ward."

Annette moved to stand in front of Raoul and spoke quietly to the young diva.

"Tarrah, Erik has told me so much about you…I am honored to finally meet you...I am Annette Giry."

Tarrah curtsied and bowed her head slightly.

"I am afraid ye have me at a disadvantage…he has told me very little about ye."

Annette smiled, but there was a hint of sadness in her eyes.

"Self-preservation…" Annette met his dark, hard gaze, "…understood."

He nodded slightly, in acceptance of her words.

"You do not seem to be here to have me arrested or beaten..."

His gaze narrowed as Christine emphatically shook her head at his words. Without lowering his eyes or changing his voice, he spoke directly to her.

"…so why are you here?"

Her voice was stuck in her throat as his deep, clear eyes bore into her soul.

"There is a letter…" Annette began, breaking the quiet of the moment, "…I do not wish to get into this right now, Erik…is there a place where we can talk – maybe have some tea?"

He stared down at her – across the bridge of his perfectly sloped nose. He finally smirked in acceptance and turned to his ward.

"Tarrah, could you show Annette and her guests to our home, I will be along shortly."

He quietly made his way to the front of the theater and saw that Beckett had parked the carriage on the street; waiting for them.

Erik turned to Tarrah and took her hands in his. His tone was that of a father, "I will follow in a little while…I need to walk and clear my head."

Tarrah nodded and kissed him on the cheek; unaware of dark brown eyes watching every move she made.

Erik watched everyone climb into the carriage and then gave instructions to Beckett. The carriage jolted to a start and he watched it roll away with a troubled brow…this was going to be an interesting evening. Every instinct he possessed was screaming for him to run and never look back, but his sense of purpose and decency demanded that he stay and face whatever was coming.

He had always been a decent man with a purpose.

TBC