AN: This chapter took me a lot longer to complete than I thought it would. It's also shorter than I was expecting it to be.

Again, I really want to thank you, my readers, for both reading and reviewing this, my first real attempt at phanfic. I sincerely hope that you are enjoying reading it as much as I'm enjoying writing it.

Very slowly, I began to get better. The promise of hearing Christine's angelic voice again gave me reason to continue on, even when my work made me tired to the point of utter weakness. I worked and slept harder than I ever had before or ever will again, but I managed to finish my opera. With that finished, I paged through it, making absolutely certain that it was completed before I bound it and set it aside. Soon I would deliver it to those fools who ran my theater, who thought they had rid themselves of me purely because I had not sent them any instructions recently.

Despite my still-weakened state, I spent every night I could watching Christine. And every night, I grew increasingly angry at the involvement of that boy, the Viscomte, in her life. The fool, taking the spoils of all my hard work. The years of my tutelage had brought Christine's voice to the beauty it was now, and he swept in and stole her heart.

No matter. Erik would figure out a way. She would love me. Pitiful Erik would win her over.

It was a week after I finished my opera that I finally had the opportunity to see Christine perform, but M. Andre and M. Firmin decided that they no longer needed to follow my instructions. Not only was my box occupied, it was occupied by them. What was worse, they had ignored my casting. The fools! Watching their faces as La Carlotta croaked like a toad- though I failed to hear a difference between this and her usual singing- was almost as glorious as it was to see the horror in their eyes as Buquet's neck snapped at the end of my lasso.

But Christine- Oh Christine, I thought as I registered the horror in her eyes. My heart ached for her. At least, it did until the Viscomte took her by the arm. I strained my ear to hear where they were going, and I beat them to the roof, where I hid behind one of the great statues for them, fully intending to swoop down and steal Christine away.

Before I could reveal myself however, the boy announced his undying love for her. Though this both amused and angered me, I waited to hear her response. The pain in Erik's chest was very real as she insisted that she loved the foolish boy, too. I watched them, horrorstruck, from where I hid, as they drew closer together. So close. Too close.

Painfully close.

Their lips brushed against each other and I had seen enough. I turned away, sliding my back down the side of the statue that hid me until I was seated against the cold, snow-covered stone of the roof, my head in my hands. It was all for nothing. The thought hit me the same way the men at the circus had when I was still small and weak. I had poured my soul into getting better for her. I had written her an opera. And this- I closed my eyes, covering my ears with my palms, trying so desperately to drown out their voices as tears welled in my eyes.

I sat there for a long, long time, my hands shaking as I fought the sobs that threatened to loose themselves from my chest. I imagined that, were there anyone there to hear me, I might've sounded like a wounded animal in need of mercy killing. Oh, poor pitiful Erik sure felt like a wounded animal.

Watching them had ripped open a great and terrible hole in my chest that made the agony of deafness pale in comparison. "I gave you my music," I breathed, clenching my eyes shut tight. "Made your song take wing and now, how you repay me… Deny me and betray me…" I forced myself to my feet, the soles of my shoes slipping on the fluffy snow that had just begun to melt with the heat of my body. I staggered out from my hiding spot, both relieved and angry to find myself alone.

I'd done so much, all for her, all for the chance to see even the slightest glimmer of love in her eyes. She, the only thing I loved more than music. How could she not see it?

I knew how long before the thought crossed my mind. I'd taken too long. I'd been foolish. Rather than simply leading her down to my home, I had to try and impress her. I had to try and see her reaction to where I was leading her. Stupid, stupid Erik, I cursed myself, hitting myself in the temples. I could still hear them descending back into the opera house. They were singing. I hadn't realized it before, when they were there near me. I let out a pained whimper and fell to my knees in the snow, holding my ears again, silently begging them to stop.

Poor Erik couldn't take it. I clutched my chest, where I could feel as my heart broke- again? I hadn't thought there was anything left to break after I'd deafened myself. Had Erik really been so daft as to believe things could look up? Pitiful, foolish creature. How could I have ever thought she would love a hideous beast like me?

I pulled myself to my feet, a new emotion burning deep in my chest, below where my heart sputtered out its erratic tune as it fell to pieces. "He was bound to love you when he heard you sing," I whimpered.

I steeled myself, letting out a low, guttural moan. "You will curse the day you did not do all that the Phantom asked of you!" I screamed as I stole back down the passageway from whence I had come. With one fluid motion, I cut down the chandelier, watched it crash elegantly down across the stage and first few rows of patrons, who applauded what had likely been a spirited performance by my angel.

The subsequent screams of pain and terror that filled my ears only served to fuel the madness that grew within me. As I stared down at them, at her, I smiled. The horrified expression plastered on her face was almost sweeter than her voice. I let out a laugh of pure joy as I watched the crowd of terrified patrons scramble for the exits.

My laughter was cut short, however, as her eyes found me. We stared at each other for a long moment, and in that moment I could feel her looking not just at me, but through me. I felt suddenly, horribly naked.

I hurried from the catwalk where I was perched. There would be other times, other horrified expressions. Let her have her precious viscomte. In the end, I would have her, one way or another. They could all be certain of that.