I wanna kiss you
But if I do then I might miss you, babe
It's complicated and stupid
Got my ass squeezed by sexy cupid
Guess he wants to play, wants to play
A love game, A love game

Love Game - Lady Gaga

((i just figured out that my beginning and Britts ending don't match up. But lets just imagine back there that it took her a while to get in the room))

He sat on the edge of my bed with a piece of parchement with a red wax seal on it. Very intriging it was. He handed it to me. "La Opera Populaire's Phantom has sent these to all of the homes in Paris. I assume he's trying to find you."

I slowly opened the letter to find thses words.

Sister,

Soon my life will expire. Strength is vanishing. Giry sits beside me to write as Brittany has ran off to find a cure, a cause. I suspect you know. Find the cure, sister, as only you can. I have faith in her, I do, but time runs out. By the end of the week, my life as the Phantom will have faded. Not like anyone will bother. I pray to whatever God watching over you will take care of you. Come back, she misses you... I must leave this note unfinished, for strength has faded ompletely and I must rest.

Erik.

Miss Destler, you must return soon. The small things we do are sapping it all out of him. Eating is a challenege and the simple medicines we can afford are even more poisonous that expected. Godspeed, Madame Giry.

"So... Do you even remember your name?"

I shook my head softly. "Nope, not a bit. But I have this nagging feeling that where ever I was, theres a problem that still exists."

His hands grasped a cup and held it to my lips. The brown tea smelled mintish. I took a tiny sip. Tasted like chocolate, licorice and mint. "This is supposed to fight the effects that the water might have on you. It could've been contaminated. Alot of people in Paris have caught sick from the river you jumped in. The best doctor in all of France gave this to me."

I tilted my head to the side and wondered why. He doesn't look sick. And that he doesn't. Clear blue eyes with concern. Overgrown auburn hair that hung over his brow and collar. His shirt open to reveal a slightly tanned but still white chest.

"Who?" I wondered.

"Nadir." The name rang a bell. Quite a few.

"Take me to him? I can use a good run in the city. Meanwhile, tell me about these rumors. Who is the infamous Phantom of the Opera you fear. And why does he want me?"