A/N: *Sigh* This is a sad chapter. I don't know whether enjoying it is the appropriate hope. Well... Um... I don't know what to say. I guess read and review and... enjoy, for what it's worth.

Chapter Twenty-three

Dead Inside

Darcey didn't think she had ever had a better birthday and the fun was going to extend to tomorrow. She had spent time with Erik and Meg and tomorrow she would spend time with Lionell. How could it get better than this? She sighed, happy. Just then a thought entered her mind. A dark thought, a lingering doubt that pricked her still. She shook her head. She wouldn't dwell on it. She sat down in the chair. Erik would come get her for their nighttime violin lesson in a few minutes. She let her eyes drift closed as she thought over the events of the day. It truly had been wonderful.

Erik started off towards Darcey's room. He had found music stand for her as well as a jewelry box. He couldn't wait to see the look on her face when she saw them but when he entered her room, he found her asleep. He chuckled and set down the stand and the jewelry box. He turned towards her but noticed a piece of paper on the floor by the door. He strode over and bent to pick it up. It wasn't sealed and he couldn't help his curiosity.

Dear Darcey,

I'm afraid a situation has come up and I will not be able to take you to dinner at seven. I was saddened when I was made aware of this as I was looking forward to your company. However I will be able to resolve this issue by nine in the evening and, if you would allow, would like to take you out to dinner still. Please let me know if this will work or allow me to reschedule with you. I hope your birthday was as wonderful as you are.

Yrs,

Lionell

Erik's heart sunk. It was happening again. He was going to lose Darcey to another patron. He should have seen something like this as going to happen. He had begun to hope that things could be different but it was exactly the same. Well this time he wasn't going to try and stop her. It would only prolong his torture. He strode angrily to her small writing desk and pulled out a piece of paper and a pen. He began to write her a note.

Mademoiselle Dubois,

You have grown quite proficient on the violin and no longer need my instruction. I will inform Mme. Giry that you are ready and all will be taken care of. I took the liberty of leaving you some things that might help you in your future career. We will no longer need to meet. Should you ever need my help, leave me a note on the other side of the secret door or give it to Mme. Giry and I will get it and help you if I can. If I may ask a personal favor, please help Meg and Garren. I believe they will be happy together but my need help developing their relationship. The best way for me to repay my debt to Antoinette is to help her daughter be happy. A word of caution to you. Be careful. Even things that may seem innocent can be dangerous, as you probably know. Do not think you are in my debt as all I did was of my own actions and I never wished to be repaid. Good luck in the orchestra.

-O.G.

By the time Erik had finished, he was crying. His time with her was coming to an end and he didn't want to let her go. The world had played yet another cruel trick on him. Hadn't he suffered enough? He guessed not. Life had tricked him yet again. Why hadn't he learned his lesson? Love was not made for monsters like him. They were only for rich and handsome men of society not for lowly nobodies like him. His place was in the shadows as a ghost of the opera house. He was meant to live this life alone. He had been cast out of heaven long ago and was now cursed to live in a virtual hell on earth. The sooner he accepted the hand he had been given, he would only cause himself more pain and anguish. He placed the note onto of the jewelry box and was about to leave but couldn't stop himself from turning back to look at her one last time. He was setting her free and to remain any longer would only cause grief. Still he returned to her sleeping form and tucked her hair behind her ears. "I love you," he whispered in a voice so low it could have only been his imagination that he said the words at all. He wiped tears from his face and after putting a blanket over her, turned and fled the room.

He could not stand it any longer. He wandered the path blindly. Why? What had he done to deserve this lot that life had handed him? He could think of no sin bad enough to be deserving of the curse of living a loveless life of pain and sorrow. Entering his lair, he strode to his desk. He opened the top drawer to pull out a stack of papers, he started at the bottom. Pictures of Christine that he had not been able to get rid of even when he knew she was lost to him. Many were severely burnt but he had not had the strength to give them up. He then reached a new sheet of paper. This one was not burnt and like the previous ones, had been drawn with love. The familiar face of Darcey made his heart ache. As he continued through the drawings, his heart hurt anew. He had been sure that life had been handing him a chance at love but it turned out he had been utterly mistaken and he was paying the price. He reached the top picture and couldn't help his tears. She had been playing her violin, it perching on her shoulder when she had glanced up and smiled at him. He would never forget that moment and knew it would haunt him for the rest of his life. In a fit of fury, he held a candle to the pile. He couldn't do it. He stomped out the fire not two seconds later. He was too weak to let this go. He picked up the pile now burnt on the edge and placed it back in the drawer. He lovingly stroked a finger down Darcey's cheek in the picture before closing the drawer. He walked to his room slowly, his body drained of energy. He collapsed on the bed, fully clothed. The last thought to go through his mind was that he felt dead inside.