(A/N Leroux, slight Kay and LND references here. Enjoy!)

Christine's POV

I remember that night vividly and doubt I'll ever forget it. The night of Don Juan Triumphant. Being kidnapped off the Opera Populaire's stage in front of probably all of Paris, almost forced into matrimony, the Phantom of the Opera almost killing my fiance with a torture chamber he built with his own hands. His hands that smelt of death. Then again, he himself smelt of death. Death mixed with some musty cologne that all in all wasn't that unpleasant. What can I say? I have a weird sense of smell is all. Raoul, on the other hand, smelled constantly of liquor, and cigars. I would, personally, prefer death and cheap cologne over that anyday. Not that I don't love Raoul I just can't fathom his new addiction. Not only was Raoul becoming a drunkard, but also a compulsive gambler. Gambling is how it all started. A friendly bet with a few friends, one or two serious bets, and placing our entire fortune on a roulette table when we visited Monte Carlo.

He tried to hide his financial issues but nothing got past me. When he was out with his drinking buddies I'd go through the threatning letter and bills claiming to take away the mansion, horses, maids, butlers, and even the chefs. The only way I could find out about what's going on around this place was to snoop through Raoul's things and that's what I did. All because of Raoul's new hobby we were losing everything, and there was only one thing to do stop us from falling deep into debt. That way was to sing. Sing for him again. That's why I must return to the Opera Populaire.

Raoul's POV

Why did I give into her? Every ounce of anger that boiled in my very being evaporated when she looked at me with those pleading eyes. I can deny her nothing. I don't know what it is that smile, those coffee colored eyes, or those bouncy curls, maybe even that face which causes her to look identical to a porcelain doll? I really wouldn't know. She has always had that affect on me. Even when we were small, innocent, gawkish children. Saving her deceased mother's precious scarf from the sea. How childish. The chill in the water was absolutely unbearable. I risked my life embarking into that below freezing water. The current from the undertow taunted and tried to swallow me into a dark, watery, abyss. I refused, however, my objective was to reach the scarf and bring it back to the little girl sobbing into her hands about her lost garment. I succeeded. Even thought it was such a childish act I do not regret it, whatsoever. If I never retrieved her scarf then we never would have been childhood sweethearts. There'd be no Little Lotte. I would never have come to her dressing room after her first singing debut. For all I know she could be in the clutches of that monster right about now. I'm glad I did what I did, or things might not have been the same.

Then again times are a little rough right about now. With my drinking problem and my gambling addiction. I did indeed lose everything I could offer her. From what I've heard is that that monster has the high Parisian society at his feet. He has now became a very respected, famous composer around France, England, Greece, and even Persia. The men I gamble and drink with talk about it how all of his operas end in tragedies. Disaster to the main character is always the outcome. Most likely, it's from the heartbreak Christine has caused to his demon soul. Many of my fellow friends have made generous donations to the Opera Populaire. Some have even invested handsome amounts of money to the Phantom's opera's. This has only happened in the matter of six months. Rumors seek that the only way he was brought to fame was by those meddling Giry's. Antoinette Giry had dug him out of his lair/cave/tomb whatever the hell that place was called and brought him up to the land of the living. After a month or two of sitting in despair he started to compose a fenomenal opera. Very few people had come to his first opera, but after the premiere it was immediately a smash hit. Sold out seats, except for Box Five, every night, ten minute standing ovations, people begging the beast to become their children's Angel of Music.
The list goes on and on.

Added to the fame he became wealthy. Probably as wealthy as I once was before I sment my entire inheritance on brandy, cigars, and poker. I am indeed losing my estate and just can't stop drinking. I loathed myself for doing this, but I must ask for Christine's help. To get us both out of this finacial crisis. She must sing again even if it is for that damned devil. I will ask her to return to the Opera Populaire.

Erik's POV

I twisted the rope in my hand into a Punjab Lasso. I had a horrible past. One filled with murderous acts, suicide attempts, passion, vengeance, obsession, morphine addiction, torture, rape, and much more. But that was the past. The future held for me a bride-to-be and one of my closest friends becoming my mother-in-law. Now Christine wanted to rid me of that? She wanted to enter my life again? I couldn't let her. She betrayed, and shunned me to go with the Vicomte de Changy. Around Pairs it's known that he gambled his fortune away. What a shame. Don't get me wrong here I'm glad the boy lost his money. Now "aristocrat" can be crossed off his resume.

Even though hie lost his wealth It somewhat worries me. What of Christine? She doesn't deserve a life of poverty. Poverty was one of the main reasons I let her go from my wrath. She deserves a life in High Society. She deserved perfection. If that boy had been able to keep his perfection she'd have perfection. Perhaps I would offer him a nice sum of money that would keep them from falling down further into debt. No! I couldn't. That money would be gone in a matter of weeks.

The gossip had found that not only did he gamble but he drank as well. To me he doesn't really seem to be the type to become a drunkard. Possibly an adulterer but that's another story.

I probably should be heading up soon. I'm usually already at dinner with Meg and Antoinette. I threw the lasso into the underground lake. I watched as it slowly sank into the bacteria filled water. I stood up and sighed. I missed it down here. I slowly made my way to the lever that raised the portcullis. I pulled it back and the gate rose. I stepped into the knee deep water and slowly but surely made my way back up to the Opera Populaire.

Meg's POV

"Maman, he's been gone for over an hour. Shouldn't we call the police?" I shouted as I paced the kitchen in my flat. Maman rolled her eyes.

"I'm sure he's fine. Police? Really Meg? It's not as if he was found murdered." That statement had earned my mother a nasty glare.

"I'm going to let that pass for now." I said through gritted teeth. "But he has been gone for over an hour."

"I've known the man for many years he's probably just thinking over some things. Possibly the wedding? Speaking of the wedding, how was your fitting today?" She asked hoping to get Meg's mind off of Erik.

"Hell. Have I ever told you that corsets are the worst invention known to man?" I smiled.

"Well, my dear they are not supposed to be comfortable. Woman favor them because what they do to our shape."

"I'd rather look heavy then not being able to breathe."

Maman smiled at me and we began to talk about different things. Christine, Raoul, Don Juan rehearsal, my father, and even Sorelli. We had gone on like this for over an hour just reminiscing of our past and future. Erik had finally come home to our flat just across the street from the Opera House. He had told us that he changed a few things in the score of Don Juan and that rehearsal tomorrow will go on for quite a while. Since we needed a Don Juan so desperately Erik decided he would just play the role himself. Then we fell asleep in eachother's arms. Aminta and Don Juan together at last.

(A/N I'm sorry but I hated this chapter. With a passion :( Please review! Flames are welcomed... not a very warm welcome... but they're welcomed.)