A/N: Thank you for the comments! I'm glad that this is good so far and I hope that you continue to read! Thank you Halley for doing a wonderful job and here's the next chappie!

Chapter 2: Some Advice in Both Worlds

Paris, 1898

"I'm worried about Etienne," Christine said as her husband slipped under the covers. "He's a man, a very attractive man, with no companion at all."

"I know, mon ange," Erik told her reassuringly, encircling his arm around her slim waist. "I know you want him to marry, so do I, but we cannot force him against his will."

"And why not?" she pouted. Erik laughed.

"He's waiting for the right woman to fall in love with. Just like I did." He nuzzled the chestnut curls on top of her head and placed a light kiss. "I'm thankful to have you and the children in my life."

"As am I, mon amour," she giggled, snuggling closer. "Do you think if you never had met her, we would be together?"

He gazed at his wife lovingly and sadly smiled. "I'm afraid not love. I was shown, for a fact, that if I were to continue to behave like an ogre that I was I wouldn't be with you."

"You're no ogre! But if you were to do what you had told me before, then I would reconsider it," Christine teased. "We're together and that's all that matters. The Angel of Music and his Little Lotte."

Erik chuckled. "Yes. I owe it all to Stephanie. I miss her."

Christine nodded understandingly. "I know you do. I wouldn't mind meeting this young girl who helped my husband."

"Ah, but she will be a woman now," Erik corrected. "And I would like nothing more than to see that occur. Though it's impossible. I barely know how I ended up in the future and back except Fate."

"Well, from what you've told me, she seems to be lovely. She probably married that boy she had affections for."

"Oh yes, Dan Shaw. I believe you might be right, Christine. That is… if Stephanie was able to conquer her fears."

xxXXxx

"I hate my life," Stephanie grumbled over a cup of coffee with her friend, Veronica Bingley.

The fair-skinned, green-eyed blonde sighed to herself and took a sip of her own latte. "Steph, honey, you really ought to get out of this lovesick stupor of yours. Crying over Dan won't bring him back. I mean, how long has it been? A year. This moping of yours has to quit. He's not worth it."

"I know, I know," Stephanie mumbled, waving her hand. "But Vee, I love him! How can I simply get over him? It's impossible. He was the only guy to see the real me and without him… I'm nothing."

"Oh please, not that again." Veronica drained her hot drink, not caring that it burned down her throat. "Stephanie, there are plenty of men in the world, if you hadn't noticed. Okay, I grant you he was your first love, no one forgets that, but it's not like it's written in stone that you have to be together. I bet there are hundreds of guys dying to meet you. And that crap about you being nothing without him is what it is—crap. Did Dan get you noticed by Crawford? No. That was all you baby with your hard work and motivation. Plus, you have your trademark with those eyes of yours. Any man would fall to your feet with a simple sultry look." Veronica winked.

"I, however, have the gossip column so if anyone should bitch about the lack of a love life it would be me. Happy now?"

Stephanie chuckled a little and nodded slightly. Veronica never was the one to beat around the bush, and at times her honestly could be a little too brutal. Nonetheless, Stephanie enjoyed her company after being hired for The Michigan Press when she graduated.

"Good. No more about Dan," Veronica stated firmly. "But back to my 'lack of a love life' I really shouldn't complain. You know Greg from Sports? Well, he finally asked me out after these long months of flirting endlessly at parties and meetings."

"About time!" Stephanie exclaimed. "I believe there was a poll going on of whether or not you two would hook up seeing how you could never keep each other's hands off the other."

Veronica raised an eyebrow innocently. "I never noticed."

The two women laughed before the blonde became silent, a crafty smirk sprouting on her scarlet lips. It was a look that Stephanie was all too familiar with.

"Oh no, Vee."

"What? You don't know what I'm going to say!" she protested.

"I have a feeling. Don't," Stephanie continued.

"C'mon. It's nothing… except Greg's pal Bernie likes you."

"Vee—" she warned, her irises flashing.

"All I'm trying to say is that Bernie's a nice guy and you would like him tons. And don't make any plans this Saturday night."

"You already told him I would go?" Stephanie said, glaring at the conniving gossiper.

She gave a dismissive shrug. "It doesn't matter. It's not like you have anything productive planned. Think of this as a step up in forgetting Dan bloody Shaw. Don't skimp on the details either. I want a full report from you."

"Christ Vee it's tomorrow!" Stephanie's voice was starting to rise.

"Shh!" She held a finger to her mouth, grinning like a mad hatter. "Trust me. You will thank me later."

"Vee!"

"Look at the time!" Veronica gasped. "Time flies when you're having fun. Now don't forget I want to know everything. Ciao love!" Veronica was up and out of her seat in seconds, leaving a very steamed Stephanie Larson behind.

xxXXxx

Paris, 1898

"Etienne! Could you come in here for a moment?"

Sighing, he turned on his heel and walked the five steps back to his father's music room. When he was inside, Erik was head bent over a new composition, his left hand scribbling away.

"I don't know how you do that Papa, but is there something you want?" The distinct edge in his tone wasn't attempted to be disguised around his father. Etienne knew his parents far well to know what actually he wanted. It was a matter of time when it would be addressed.

"Come sit down son. Now wipe that forlorn look off your face. You look as if you've been condemned to the guillotine."

Etienne stretched out his long legs before crossing them over, his piercing sea-green eyes staring ahead at the man who sired him. As a child, he was always fascinated with his father's ability to demand attention and convert the worse of offenders to saints. He knew some about his past and the unjustified treatment over his scarred face. It disgusted Etienne that his brilliant father was judged before he could make an argument. Alas, 'tis how the cruel world works.

"I'm certain that you're aware your mother and I have discussed this quite thoroughly," Erik went on.

When his son didn't respond, Erik continued. "Etienne, we're looking out for your best interests. A man of your age should be married by now, enjoying the prospects of being a husband and father. I know you once favored Mlle LeBlanc at one point, why is it now you do not seek her hand?"

"Father," he sighed resolutely. "Maybe I would have long ago, but I cannot see myself married to her. She is lovely and a pleasure to have around, but she doesn't inspire me as Mother does for you. There's no passion in our relationship and she can be a bore at times with her incessant chatter over God knows what. Do you expect me to condemn myself to a life of foolishness?"

"Of course not!" Erik exclaimed, stunned by Etienne's words. "We don't want you to be in an unhappy marriage. No parent wants that of their child. We, especially I, had thought Mlle LeBlanc was in your best interests."

"She's not," Etienne replied stoically. "She's a child in many ways and I don't want to become her handler."

Erik nodded, though confused by his sudden impassiveness to the girl he loved as a childhood sweetheart. Perhaps everything is not what they always seen to be. Christine was not going to like this report.

"Furthermore, I'm tired of yours and Mother's constant nagging of my life," Etienne glowered. "I am a man and I make my own decision over whether or not I want to be married. If I end up alone then it's my choice."

"Etienne…"

"No! Before you say another word, let me tell you how insufferable it is for me to put up with your invitations to social gatherings I don't wish to partake in. You do not always attend these functions and why must I? It's not like I'm representing the Opera Populaire!"

Erik stood up abruptly, his black brows joining together in a scowl. "Those functions are to help you! Not me!"

"Oh, why, thank you Father for enlightening me with the truth. I apologize if I do not take too lightly with your desperate attempts for me to mate! If only I had to hide behind a mask and society to find a decent wife!"

Erik's whole façade fell as Etienne stormed out, slamming the door behind.

TBC…