I do not own The Phantom of the Opera. Sorry to disappoint you. I love all reviewers, ect. You are amazing.

The words were slow and measured at first, but soon tumbled out quickly in a babbling flood. "Meg...his name is Erik. He's, well, he's the Phantom of the Opera. Your mother rescued him from a gypsy fair when he was young. He's ugly, Meg, really ugly. That's why he wears a mask. Remember when I said the Angel of Music spoke to me? That was really him all along. I left him after every thing that happened after Don Juan Triumphant, but Raoul's family made me leave... Then Erik found me and I've been living with him since...Meg, I love Erik. Really, I do," she said. Christine's blue eyes were wide and imploring. Meg please, please don't be angry with me. There was a brief moment of silence that seemed to stretch like an eternity to her as Meg tried to process the rush of information as quickly as possible. "Meg, I..." she continued to break the silence. She's mad, isn't she?

"Can I meet him?" Meg cut Christine off a little rudely.

"What?"

"If you love this Erik so much, then I want to meet him," Meg repeated in a slightly annoyed tone, as if Christine was stupid.

With a sinking feeling, she realized the magnitude of all that she had revealed to Meg. The other girl was like her sister, but she had affected almost everyone she was close to with that speech. She had qualms about inciting Erik's anger before she spoke, but only now she realized that the life she had built was in jeopardy. Although Christine loved Meg dearly, she had to admit that Meg had no capacity to keep secrets.

"Well, fine then..."

Meanwhile, Erik was deep in conversation with Madame Giry, apologizing for his behavior last time they had spoken, finding out what she had been doing, and watching Christine talk to Meg out of the corner of his eye.

"As I said before, I was rude, and I am sorry. I never should have thrown you out of my house like that," Erik said sincerely.

"I accept your apology," Madame Giry replied. She knew there was no use holding a grudge with Erik. He often said things in anger that he didn't mean; it was just part of his personality.

Unfortunately, Raoul had caught sight of Christine at the same time and began crossing the floor to talk to her.

"Excuse me," said a smooth voice behind Christine. The owner of the voice made Meg's eyes widen, and Christine's throat tighten. She knew that voice!

"Raoul," she said, turning around, unsmiling. The slightly horrified expression on her face unnerved the young vicompte, who had come to the party dressed as a knight, but, nonetheless, he continued.

"Miss Giry, I would much appreciate it if I could talk to Christine alone if you don't mind," he said, gifting her with a dazzling smile.

"Of course," Meg replied uncertain what to do in light of the information Christine had shared. After what had passed between Raoul and her friend, she was unsure whether to leave or stay with her. Shooting a quizzical look at Christine, she disappeared into the colorful crowd.

"Christine, I am very sorry for turning you out like that. I regret listening to my family; they were wrong. If you can ever forgive me... Please, I still want to marry you." Raoul said, still disquieted by the expression on Christine's face. He had mentally prepared himself for either happiness or anger (quite possibly a mix of both) on her part, but not this pitying, sympathetic expression. It was almost as if she felt she was at fault, not him. There was silence, and for a moment, Christine had the odd sensation that the moment after she finished her speech about Erik to Meg was reversed. Searching for words, she found none, and unable to bear his innocent, pleading eyes Christine turned and ran away. Later, she regretted it, but the sight of him so hopeful and repentant and her inability to help him were too much for her. She couldn't face him.

The worst thing of all was that he didn't even try to follow her.

Some part of Raoul knew that Christine was gone; it was a realization that aged him. He had lost her a long time ago. With weary resignation, he turned around and went to find Philippe, who was dancing with one of the ballet girls from the opera, Sorelli. At least it seemed one attempted reconciliation was a success, he thought only a little bitterly.

Blindly, Christine pushed her way through the crowd in search of Erik. She had a strange, instinctive need to see him all of a sudden. Maybe he would help get the encounter with Raoul out of her mind. The only other time she'd felt so guilty was when she'd left Erik with Raoul. It was a poetic irony she would have enjoyed in other circumstances.

Erik was standing alone in an alcove, when an agitated black figure with a white mask quickly approached him. She hadn't said anything, but the consternation on the visible half of Christine's face was worrying. Hadn't she just been giddy and excited? What had happened? He took a step closer to her.

"My dear, what's wrong?" he asked, concerned.

"Raoul," Christine managed to choke out, and it sounded like she was on the verge of tears. Seeing that he had upset Christine so, Erik was obviously angry, and hardly heard what Christine said next. It was something about telling Meg something... It seemed unimportant. Hands dangerously clenching around the folds of his cloak, Erik could only really process that Raoul had upset Christine again, and ruined the evening. Watching Erik's body language, Christine realized that she would have to keep him away from everyone at this point, especially Raoul. In addition, there was no way she could introduce Erik to Meg in this state. Glancing nervously over her shoulder, she saw Meg walking over to her. Oh no.