AN: Someone was concerned about me not keeping Gerry in character because they were under the impression that he had a drug problem. Understandable, since most actors are drug users, and there were rumors that Gerry was on drugs recently—which was actually when he noticed he was too dependent on pain medication after a surfing accident, so he chose to go to rehab for that. He did, in fact, have an alcohol problem during his life, but this was before he was ever in any big films such as Phantom. He was a smoker during 2004 and 2005 (but quit after the movie P.S I Love You). As for his attitude, he's known to be a rather friendly, nice person to fans and coworkers alike, and he's never had any personal dramas in the media, such as too much partying, rage fits, affairs, etc. Yes, I think he's an attractive person, but if he were the Charlie Sheen type of actor, I'd be the first to mock him for it. Thank you.

CHAPTER 3

When Christine had gotten dressed, she walked out into the cavern to find Gerry masked and looking around for something—under papers, in drawers, behind blindfolded statues and covered mirrors, everywhere.

"What are you looking for?" she asked quietly, her voice echoing off the damp stone walls.

"A cigarette."

"A what?"

"Oh. I guess they weren't invented until later…I'm guessing Erik didn't smoke anyway," he muttered annoyedly.

"No, he didn't. He said he didn't want to depend on anything except music—not alcohol, nor cigars, nor food, nor people. Except his sanity seemed to depend entirely on me…"

"Then I shouldn't actually need the nicotine, if Erik's body wasn't addicted to it. I guess it's just a mental habit or something…" he thought aloud, rubbing his neck. "How old was he, by the way?"

"He never told me."

"Then how old are you?"

"I turn 17 in April."

"The same as Emmy…then Erik's the same age as me. 34," Gerry mused. "A little awkward for a relationship, don't you think?"

"Not at all. Plenty of girls my age marry men twice their age," Christine said matter-of-factly. "Why? Is this not the custom in your time?"

"Girls your age aren't even thinking about marrying in my time, let alone to guys that old."

"Why?"

"Because most men don't want to go to jail," Gerry said curtly.

"Jail?"

"Yes, jail! For banging a minor!"

Christine blinked. "Banging?"

Gerry groaned and shook his head. "Nevermind…"

The girl crossed her arms and looked towards the wall trapping her in the cave.

"Well, since you aren't Erik and you aren't obsessed with me, can I leave?"

He chuckled. "Oh you poor thing…of course you can't."

Her jaw dropped and she snapped, "Why?"

"Because, I'm not going to survive in this century without someone to help me. Someone to keep ME sane," he sighed. She thought a moment then nodded, seeing his point.

"Well, I should probably check up above for you, to see how much damage Erik caused and how much they want to kill him—well, you."

"Ah, that's right, we were going to film that chandelier part last…" Gerry said, turning to her. "Can I trust you to come back?"

"If at all possible, I will. People might take me away for questioning, and Raoul will want to see me."

Gerry frowned. "Yeah, that won't work. You can't be seen. You won't be able to come back. And if you can't be seen either, then I might as well go with you."

He started to walk towards the lever to open the doors, but Christine rushed to stop him.

"The mob was outside that way looking for you! They may be waiting out there as we speak."

"Why didn't they just blow up the door then?"

"Because they know I'm inside," Christine sighed.

"Ah. Right. This way then!" Gerry said, loping up the stone steps to the line of covered mirrors, finding the last one and tossing away the red velvet drape.

"Why did I have to smash this to bits if Miranda—Madame Giry, I mean…dammit, I keep mixing everyone up…anyway, how did she come through it so quietly?"

"Maybe there's a switch on the side or something," Christine suggested. They both started feeling the sides of the mirror, but found nothing. Gerry groaned and stepped back. As he did, he stumbled forward and caught himself against the glass, accidentally pushing it sideways. It moved quite effortlessly, like a sliding glass door.

"Well…that was anticlimactic," he muttered, peering into the dark tunnel. He was about to ask Christine for a light of some sort, but she appeared with a lit candelabra in hand. Gerry glanced back at the tunnel unsurely.

"I guess 'ladies first' doesn't apply in this situation."

/

"What are these?" Erik inquired curiously, lifting pink earphones from Emmy's bag. She quickly took them from him and revealed her white iPod.

"Those are earphones to my iPod. It's a pretty new technology. You put those in your ears and then press buttons in this part to listen to music."

"Music…?"

Erik looked like a kid in a candy store. Smiling at his excitement, Emmy started untangling the bubblegum colored earphones.

"Yeah. I can put up to 400 songs on here."

At first he looked like he didn't believe her one bit, but then shrugged. "I don't see how any of this is possible, but if a button can make a moving image appear behind glass on what you call a TV, I suppose buttons can make music too."

"Would you like to listen?" Emmy offered politely.

"Oh yes! I would love to hear how music has evolved over 233 years!" Erik said. "Who is the most famous composer of this era?"

"Um…we don't really have composers anymore. I mean, people write songs but it's the singer who's popular. Or a band—a group of people who all play different instruments."

"What, like an orchestra? Nevermind, let me listen already," he said, putting in the earphones (a funny sight) and waiting for Emmy to pick a song. Finally, she settled on 'Let it Be' by The Beatles.

"This is actually from thirty years ago, but people copy their style," she explained before hitting 'Play'. Erik was amazed at the fact that music was coming from such an indirect force into his ears, and the music was far from terrible.

"It's strange to me, but I can see the appeal. The singer needs to project a little more."

Emmy chuckled. "If you want projection, I think you'll like this…"

She switched to a screamo song and Erik jumped in his seat.

"Gah! This is wretched!" he spat. She turned the volume down.

"It's a new style. The screaming represents torment or pain, to show the emotion of the song."

"Well, it's certainly agony to listen to…"

She rolled her eyes and changed it to an electronic pop song with no lyrics. Erik's eyes slanted as he tried to think of how to describe it.

"It sounds like…musical morse code."

Emmy burst into a fit of giggles, quite enjoying the 19th century man's reactions. "I guess you could say that."

Erik spent over an hour flipping through songs, after Emmy showed him how to operate the iPod (he could only turn the volume up and down, and go to the next song). He concluded the following:

Metal/Hard Rock: Sometimes terrible, other times powerful, like modern Don Juan.

50's-60's: charming…for a children's choir.

70's: Too slow and free flowing, but beautifully complex lyrics.

Pop: Fascinating background. Horrid vocals and immature lyrics, however.

Rap: HORRIBLE. WHOEVER INVENTED IT MUST BE PUNJABBED.

Country: The fiddles are familiarly pleasant, but the vocals are awful and lyrics pathetic.

"So there is no genre you totally like?" Emmy asked, a bit insulted.

"No. Is there any genre YOU totally like?" he shot back. "You picked all of these songs, correct? This is your ipatch, right?"

"iPod, Erik," Emmy laughed. "Yes, it's mine."

"Well, you have a wide variety of genres because you like some songs of different types. Otherwise, all your music would sound the same," he pointed out. She shrugged.

"Yeah, I guess you're right."

He put the iPod on the table of the acting trailer they were in and stood up.

"Speaking of music…do you sound like Christine as well as look like her?"

She looked away shyly. "I sure hope so. I am playing her role."

"Sing."

Just like the character…of course he is, you idiot, he IS the character, she thought, feeling stupid. It was still hard to believe this. Clearing her throat, she started singing the first thing that came to her.

"You have brought me, to that moment when words run dry…to that moment when speech disappears into silence, silence…"

Erik's professional, critiquing demeanor shattered as soon as he heard that familiarly beautiful voice. As she continued singing, he stepped closer as if drawn to the sound. She ended before the chorus and looked down at her hands, twisting them together absentmindedly.

"Just like her. You must be her," Erik said quietly. Looking up, Emmy defended herself.

"Maybe I look and sound like her, but I can't have her soul. Once you get to know me, you'll see that," she assured him. "Unless you never really knew her either."

Erik tensed up angrily. "Of course I knew her, I loved her with every fibre of my being!"

The teenager crossed her arms, challenging him. "Really? Then what was her favorite color?"

He scoffed. "I don't see how that's even relevant…"

"If you knew her so well, you'd know," Emmy said, looking amused. "What was her favorite food, then?"

"She ate whatever they served the ballet girls in the kitchen and went out a lot when she became Prima Donna, so…I don't know."

"Did you ever discuss things aside from music, like politics, religion, or what she wanted to do with her life—aside from singing?"

He paused. "Well…I know she's Catholic."

"Wasn't every French person Catholic back then?"

Narrowing his eyes, he quickly said, "Not me."

Emmy shook her head and sighed. "You fell in love with Christine's looks and voice, not who she is."

"No, she was delicate and fragile, and I needed to protect her. Then I built her up to be something great."

"Tell me this. If she couldn't sing, would you have even cared about her?" Emmy asked. For a long time, Erik was silent.

"It's what drew me to her. Her voice. I wouldn't have known her without it. So to me, it was a crucial part of my love for her."

Nodding, the actress stretched her arms behind her and strode towards the door of the trailer.

"If you ever get back home, take some time getting to know the girl you kill for. She might learn to love you back that way."

AN: So this was a little more serious, and the next chapter will be too. But don't worry, I'll still have plenty of comedy in there. It's kind of hard not to with a body-swap story :P Thanks for your reviews!