Meg's POV

"Meg! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to say it!" Erik shouted as he followed me backstage.

"I refuse to speak to you!" I felt tears prick my eyes and eventually them cascading down my cheeks. That unimaginable bastard! I flew the door of my dressing room open and ran in. I shut and locked it before Erik could catch up. I saw the doorknob trying to move and hands pounding on the wooden door.

I walked over to the mirror. My mascara was smeared down my face. I somehow managed to have a little on my ear. I put my head in my hands and sobbed.

How dare he! Christine? We practiced Marguerite over and over. The syllables were the same so why did he say Christine?

The pounding on my door stopped abruptly.

Good, he must be going away.

Then a soft, barely audible knock came at the door.

"Who is it?" I asked.

"It's me, sweetheart." It was my mother. I looked away from the mirror and headed to the door. I unlocked it, and turned the doorknob to the right. She gave a soft smile and I started to sob. She wrapped her arms around my waist as I cried into her bosom. She laid her head into my hair and began to sing.

Of course, this didn't comfort me whatsoever. Her arms slipped from my waist and she looked me in the eyes.

"I'm sure it was an accident." She said soothingly.

So my own mother was taking his side. How phenomenal!

"Get out." I whispered. She looked at me stunned as if she had said something wrong.

She did!

"I need to be alone for a little while." She nodded and left me standing at the threshold. I wiped my eyes and locked my dressing room door once again. My head was throbbing in pain and I was becoming dizzy. I laid down on my bed quickly and fell into a dreamless slumber.

Erik's POV

My shoulders sagged. How stupid! Now, I would have to go to the after party. I could already hear the crowd still hear the crowd's thunderous applause. Not only was Christine and Raoul here, but Nadir had visited me and told me that the Shah of Persia and his mother would be here.

If that woman calls me "corpsy" I'll kill her. Is "corpsy" even a word, anyway?

I walked into the opera's main hall, and crowds were already flooding it. Camera flashes, shouting, questions. These were normal things for me after one of my opera's premiering, but I usually had Meg by my side. I felt a hand grabbed my shoulder and I jumped about six feet in the air. By my jump I heard a snort of laughter behind me.

Khanum.

I turned to the woman. Time had treated her well. Her middle eastern skin had barely any wrinkles or lines. Her black poker straight hair was laying softly on her shoulders and down her back, and she wore the traditional veil over her face.

"Corpsy! It's nice to see you again."She purred. I had to stop myself from rolling my eyes. I knew she would say corpsy.

"Madame." I bowed respectfully even though I had an urge to wring her neck. "I really do not have time to reminisce on past events. I really must be going." She nodded.

"Yes, but remember I will be in Paris for awhile. I will speak to you one way or another." With that she walked away.

Thank God

I sighed and walked to the manager's office. I was walking up the grand staircase when a woman accidently bumped into me.

"I'm sorry, mademoiselle." I said quickly as I rushed past her. She was on an arm of a man. I didn't get a good look of the woman, but from what I saw she looked vaguely familiar.

I knocked on Monsieur Moncharmin and Richard's office door.

No answer.

They were probably wooing some poor innocent young ladies.

God, help those women... When the hell did I become so God damned Catholic?

I turned the knob slowly to reveal Madame Giry rustling through some paperwork.

"Madame." She glared daggers at me.

"Erik, neither my daughter nor I would like to speak to you."

"I'm quite aware."

"Then do leave." I gave a little half pout and left.

No one wanted me around.