Yes, quick updates also are a sign of a slow summer life and travel. I beg to differ, though, that I am very busy... just not today. It may not even be the best writing, either, for I'm not very proud of it, but I implore you that the next chapter will be impeccably interesting. I'd like to say a very profound thanks to the reviewers that I have already, because without the comments I've received, and the knowledge that people are reading, this quick update wouldn't be possible. *LOL* I sound like I just received a Tony:P Anyways-enjoy the chapter though it's not much *kicks ground dramatically*

~The Phantom's Flutist

P.S. Reviews are still very welcome, of course!

Chapter 3:

Planning Against

It wasn't until four in the afternoon that I heard my lock click, and I simply stayed on my bed looking to the ceiling, studying the designs and making pictures of it with my eyes. He knocked on the door with his bony hands, and it sounded like wood against wood, sending chills once more through my spine.

"May I come in?" He asked quietly from behind the door. I didn't answer, looking up to the ceiling again, and began to hum to block out his voice.

"Christine, answer me," He demanded, still not losing the maddening calmness to it. And I didn't answer him despite.

"Christine, are you even in there?" He asked quickly, beginning to bang on the door impatiently.

"Go away." I rasped, resuming my humming.

"Just let me make it up to you, I really did not mean to be so stern earlier. Can I please come in?" He begged sounding relieved at hearing my voice somewhat.

"Did you not hear me? I said go away. You're not my father, and you're not my parent. I've only known you for forty-eight hours and I already hate you. If you value my sanity so much, I would like it very much if you went away." I protested angrily

The door began to creak open and in a split second, it seemed, he was right next to me, with an outstretched hand, looking at me with so much as his dignity. "Could you forgive me once more, Christine? Just once more, and I will leave you alone."

I finally turned my head to look at him, his eyes narrowed at the corners, and he was now pleading me with such a guilty voice, hurt at my ignorance... I rose from my bed and looked at him curiously, tilting my head to the side.

"Why do you wear a mask?" I asked looking over it once more. He tensed almost instantly and placed his hand back by his side slowly, looking over me with disbelief at my simple question.

"That is a question reserved for another time." The cryptic answer annoyed me to no end. I left it at that, not wanting to anger him again. "Are you hungry?" He asked gently, looking over me. "You can either eat downstairs with me or up here. It's your choice."

"I'll be downstairs in a second," I muttered under my breath, looking at myself in the mirror for my hair was in a big knot around my head, thanks to curly brown hair. I looked at myself and sighed, I was already so pale and dull, and felt lifeless simply looking at my reflection. I immediately looked away.

The day went by slowly, very slowly. I spent the rest of the night reading my book in the library until the late hours and he came and told me to go to sleep. I reluctantly obeyed his orders, and went into my bedroom, and fell into another deep sleep.

The following few days consisted of almost the same exact things and I ignored Erik just as he seemed to want to ignore me. The only time we said anything to each other was during lessons where every once in a while he would lose patience with me and continue the lesson as I began to sing the opera arias with his extremely helpful hints. He never complimented me in any way like my old teacher used to, but I was so impressed with my own voice, that I began to believe that it wasn't even my own.

The first conversation that ever seemed to take place after a lesson was my simple question that arose many more questions. "Do you think I'll be able to perform sometime?" I asked timidly, looking to his thin black hair for he was turned toward the piano. He was silent, as if stunned I was talking again.

It took him long before he actually answered, in a shaky, small voice that made me wonder what he was actually thinking for such a question.

"Soon, dear... soon you will astound, but you must know, when you have your pride... that you are singing for me." He said full-heartedly, and I opened my mouth to say something more, and then shook my head, shutting it. Singing for him? I'm the one with the voice. How is it his choice of who I sing for?

Angered, I lingered on the question that I've been wanting to ask for the past seven days, "Can I have my cell phone back?" I guess it was stupid, but the thought of getting out of this home seemed to make me delighted.

"No," He said simply, rising from the chair, and before I could say anything else, he was gone, and so was my chance.

I thought of many things... first, I must earn his trust by being as affectionate as I was when I first came here, then I get my cell phone, and then I can ask if I can go with Raoul to that dinner which was originally planned, and if not, then I could escape by hunting down the servants and demanding them take me. Yes... I even wrote it all down on my diary that I was keeping with all the paper hidden in the writing desk.

I began talking to him again, just as he probably wished it, and we usually spoke in the library, where I spent most of my time, and he, in the music room. Sometimes when he knew I was going into the library, he would follow like a dog on my feet just because he knew I'd speak to him there. It was curious behavior, I must say, but if it got what I wanted, I felt free to manipulate on my whim.

"Do you have a last name, Erik?" I asked, putting my finger in between the two pages that I was reading, resting the book on my lap.

"I have many," he replied furtively, and I arched an eyebrow.

"What do you mean by that?" I asked demandingly, still annoyed once more at the cryptic remarks. "You can only have one last name as your father has..."

"I never had a father." He answered, suddenly cold once more.

"You must have... everyone has a father." I pressed, trying to be concerned, but faking every whim. Did I mention I was once an actress?

"I never knew him." He hissed.

"But you had a mother," I whispered, "Right?"

"I never had a mother," he hissed even colder now, though I knew he held something against whoever she was. I believed I pried enough so I remained quiet.

"Is there something wrong?" I asked, realizing I was bringing something upon him that he'd rather not have. Natural human guilt wiped over me, and I scooted closer in my chair to where he was sitting on the sofa.

He looked at me with bright, golden eyes that looked sad, "Bad memories."

"I'm sorry," I whispered, seeing that I couldn't help in anyway, so I rest my case, and resumed reading.

It eventually came to the comfort level he had with me that I felt good to ask him the burning question.

"I'm fine, Christine, you were curious, and I cannot blame you for that," He explained in a soothing voice and I nodded contentedly.

"I was wondering..." I began knowing that now was my chance. "Because I basically now know this place as home, may I have my cell phone back?" I asked.

"What makes you think I took it?" He acted surprised.

"No, a better question would be what doesn't make me think that you took it. You just don't want me to leave the house."

"I believe we've established this—you're not leaving just yet." His voice sent chills down my spine.

"Erik..." I moaned.

"Christine," He said, his voice raising slightly.

I huffed, and crossed my arms across my chest. "You're lying when you say that you only want me here to be more comfortable... There's some other reason. Tell me." I ordered, trying to make my voice sound just as powerful as his, but failed on that part.

"It is nothing but the truth, darling."

"Lying again... If I said I'd be back before nine o' clock would you let me go?"

"He's busy, I'm sure, with moving in. Leave him alone for now."

"He moved in a week ago! I'm sure the movers are not that slow! Especially for his family's money. Erik, please..." I clasped my hands together dramatically, feeling as if I might just cry in front of him, "You're being overprotective! My father would always let me go with Raoul."

"You've said I'm not your father." He excused slyly.

I glowered once more at him and groaned. "You're impossible!"

"We've established this as well. Now, Christine, are you going to throw another fit in rebellion and I need to put you in your room again, or will you just please calm down." His voice was even more so irresistible and he seemed to have found my own weak point. I glared, settling further into the plush chair, and rest my head against the back of the chair, looking to the ceiling again, my mind already concocting ways of escape. Once he goes out for "errands" again, I'll go into his desk and begin searching for my cell phone.

"I hate you, hate you, hate you!" I screamed at him, burying my face in my hands. I would give anything to see Raoul again... to be in his arms and for him to tell me it's all okay, that it will be fine. And he wouldn't be biased and overprotective, and demanding, and he'd be just as kind as he has always been.

"I'm sure you don't mean that." He was reassuring himself, it seemed, as if trying to ignore my words, flinching at my every word.

"I do mean it!" I rebelled, feeling all the more like a child with him around, more so then I ever have. "I don't understand you at all... If you could just tell me the truth for once... and stop hiding so much. You hide your face, and over than half this mansion from me, and I need at least partially an explanation... Why did you even take me in when nobody else would? I want to know." I pleaded, trying hard not to cry, my throat feeling swollen.

"You want to know why, Christine?" He asked, looking to me slowly with warm eyes, and a hopeful expression underneath that mask.

I nodded, feeling extremely confused almost instantly. The silence between us was suddenly very intense as he looked at me with big and somewhat beautiful golden eyes. He grabbed my hands and engulfed my smaller hands into his larger, bony ones, and he looked down to them as if it was incredible at this simple touch. I couldn't help but grimace at it, the questions beginning to bother me more than anything has ever bothered me before, foretelling that this was rather big of an answer he would produce.

"Know, Christine... That I care very much for you, and it would pain me very much to see you harmed in any way." His voice made this simple statement sound with so much meaning, that something deepened in my chest both of confusion and ignorant demand for the knowledge of more...

"I don't know you..." I breathed lightly, looking to our hands, and thought that I might just pull away, but the better part of me let him hold my hands, my human part of me told me that he wanted to hold them.

"I know," He replied just as softly, if not softer, as my voice, and he brought my hand to where his mouth might just be and held it firmer, and let it drop.

I began to back away, feeling my heart thud at the hidden truth that he is trying to hint at... the truth that is quite disturbing and I couldn't feel anything about it.

I quickly turned away, and made a mad dash out of the room, leaving him there in the library just as he might just say something like "wait" but I didn't listen just as he never listens to me. I went up to my room, and jumped onto my bed, digging my head into my pillow and began to cry, not a deep, scornful cry, but a cry that I don't want to be here. Out of all the homes I've been to, this must be the worst one. No matter how grand it is, no matter how kind he is at letting me stay here, I wanted to leave and go to that foster home. I wanted to be with Raoul and he wasn't letting me. Raoul being the only connection I had to my father... Yes, that's what hurt the most. Being denied someone I hold dearly ached, especially when it was dealing with my father. I went into the drawer of my nightstand, and took out the picture of my father and I just before he died a month later.

We were on vacation in Maine, and we were standing just near the edge of the rock overlooking a lighthouse, his hands clasped around me, and I was only fourteen at the time, and I had short hair with curls that bushed out at both sides, and next to me was Raoul, just as tall as I with a big, cheesy grin on his face that I've known him for and teased him about though I haven't seen him since then. It was there that the memory hit me like a pound of ice.

"What's a girl like you doing out in a cold night like this?" A somewhat familiar voice asked from not so far away.

I turned around, gasping, to see Raoul walking toward my seat by the ocean, his short blond hair in a disarray from all the wind, his blue eyes bright, he looked almost distilled when he was standing there looking down to me.


"Sitting here, saying goodbye to something like freedom. What are you doing out here?"

"Greedily disturbing your peace to tell you something," He smiled.

"What is it you want to tell me?" I asked, putting down my shawl, to get up. That stupid move created from distraction caused it to start blowing away out into the water. I gave a squeak which was meant to be a scream as it blew further into the sea with the crashing waves. "Darn it!" I said, stomping my foot, "There's no way I'm going in there..."

"I'll get it," Raoul murmured nonchalantly.

I laughed. "You don't have to do that!" I replied, holding his arm so he wouldn't bother, but he was already taking off his jacket in order to go into the water.

"Raoul!" I laughed, grabbing hold of his arm, aghast for a second. But the impenetrable boy would simply not listen. It was at this moment that I think I fell for him. Literally. He pulled forward laughing at my clumsiness and then I collapsed into the water, my skirt becoming very wet.

"Don't worry, I'll dry off once I'm done." He called back as he dived into the depths of the water, and began to swim strongly against the current and all I could was stand there and watch him swim for my scarf as his mother threw the door open, and screamed his name, but he eventually reached my scarf unperturbed by her callous pleas for him to return to shore immediately.

I couldn't stop laughing in a flattered way, knowing very deeply that he was, indeed, stupid, but I think he felt the same way as I did... in a way, at least.


Breathlessly, he reached out to hand me my dripping wet scarf, and folded over, putting his hands on his knees, and huffing deep breaths. "Here you go, Christine," His voice, though, was not effected by his exasperated rasps.


"Dear Lord, Raoul," His mother cried, shaking her head, running as fast as her old feet will take her in the sand. "Why did you do that? Why did you do that?" She repeated, over and over again, scolding him, and the following words that she said to him I kind of chose not to hear, but I turned away.

"Christine!" He called, turning away from his mom, calling over her nagging voice. I turned back around with a big, sheepish smile on my face.

"Yes?" I asked melodramatically.

"I'll see you tomorrow, okay? We'll pack up together, alright?" He asked desperately, and I couldn't help but nod, still with the big smile plastered to my face.

The smile was still on my face as I found myself looking up to the ceiling once more.

Suddenly, the door opened, and a woman stepped in with large eyes and feeble hands. I looked at her curiously as she stared back in the same way, as if I was so different from the rest of this room. I guess I shouldn't be so surprised that there was a maid in here, I mean... how could one man keep the entire house himself? Not to mention with all the things he goes through in here, I'm sure it requires attention.

"Good evening, Miss Daae," She greeted a little too brightly.

"Good evening," I replied reluctantly.

"I came to change the covers," she replied innocently, "So if you could please..." she began and didn't have to finish, I went over to the chair and sat into it, folding my legs up.

"Do you know of any possible way I could leave?" I asked suddenly, as she began to strip the bed, she didn't react for the longest time. She wasn't replying, and I questioned her again.

"Master Erik wouldn't like me telling you."

"I don't care what he likes or dislikes. You can blame it on me for all I care, I would just really want to get out for a while. I'll come back, of course..." I said hurriedly, and she turned to face me slowly.

"I can't help you, I'm sorry." She shook her head, and then I groaned dramatically, and looked away from her and begrudgingly out the window.

"Then... could you at least tell me where he has put my cell phone so I could call someone who could help me? Or do you know when he'll be leaving to run on an errand?"

She sighed and shook her head again and for the slightest second I didn't think she'd answer me with something helpful, when her eyes were filled with something strange... pity? She pitied me? I didn't know what to think, so I didn't... She knew whatever Erik had in store for me, and clearly I didn't take the hint.

"I know he'll be out tomorrow during the afternoon. You may ask the man who works near the kitchen for him to drive you, and I will help you look for your cell phone, for I don't know where it is."

"Are you serious?" I asked, leaping from the chair, and felt the urge to go and wrap my arms around her and give a big hug.

"Yes," She nodded, "I'll help as much as I can, at least."

My heart began to flutter with excitement, "Thank you so much!" I said happily, feeling so delighted that I would skip around this entire room.

I was going to see Raoul again! I repeated in my head over and over and no matter how many times I said it, the smile never left my face.

"The master would also ask for you to join him at dinner, and dear, I would suggest that you calm down slightly." She said quietly, moving toward me, raveling the blankets into her arms so much that it almost caused her to disappear in them with her quaint figure.

"I don't want to eat with him," I huffed, the thought beginning to disturb me even more.

"Miss, you don't know how much he cares for you. The least you can do, before betraying him, is have dinner with him." She sounded awfully concerned about him, seeing that she tensed as she left the room and I watched as she left, weighing the options in my head. I wasn't sure I could keep my splendid joy withheld in my chest, the sudden flutter of my heart when I thought of freedom... and for once I could go out like every teenager could, and I could go out with Raoul... And I would smile with him and laugh with him and remember what it was like when I was with my father and him.

I checked my expression in the mirror, fixing my hair, for it was obvious that I spent the last few hours laying on a bed for all its worth. I felt oddly buoyant for the first time in this house, like I was floating down the stairs.

I walked into the dining room with him already sitting there, reading the newspaper, actually looking normal for once. Him with the newspaper in hand made me remember that he was human... he wasn't some strange creature that shuts himself from the world in a large mansion.

"Good evening." He began invitingly. I didn't answer and sat down at the table, folding the napkin into my lap, glaring at him, to act like I did before wasn't so hard. The loathing I felt was something that wasn't very hard to mimic once more. "Won't you speak to me, Christine? What have I done to make you hate me so?" He asked pathetically, his voice reaching another pitch, and I looked up from the food again, glared, and took a bite of the salad.

"What haven't you done?" I mocked.

"Now, now, don't be so ungrateful."

"Yes, but all my other homes let me see my friends. I'm not a recluse, you know... not like you." I hissed those last words, letting my fork fall for extra effect. That seemed to be his weak point, right there... If I brought himself into the situation, I noted that he backed off, finding it offending. He seemed to frown, for his mask went down a little, and he straightened up, as if not to act like that hurt him in such a way as I intended it to. He remained silent, seeing that I finally figured out a way to use his words against him effectively.

"At least I gave you a home, Christine. Would you like to be at the foster home and be looked down upon for the rest of your life? Not be able to go to college and be ignored, and scarcely fed? I'm sure they would be much more overprotective then I."

"Somehow I doubt that," I hissed acidly.

He said something under his breath and then looked down to the newspaper as if trying to read it, but I knew he was trying to concoct something else to say, but instead, ignored my comment.

"I'm going to be away tomorrow for most of the day, but will return late at night, possibly before you're asleep. I'm certain you'll be fine here?" Oh, now he was just begging for it.

"Not exactly."

He ignored that, too. "Very well." And he grunted and left the room. I smiled to myself, seeing that this was the perfect opportunity to go. I bet he thought I wouldn't be able to leave... I, for some reason, am quite sure of that, actually. Either that or he'll be predicting that, and leave just to see if I'll leave as well. The more excited I seemed to be of tomorrow, the more worried I became that he might catch me. I don't know what he's capable of... and I couldn't even begin to think of what he'll do if he actually is very angry that I left him. I wondered, looking back to when I was speaking to the maid, just how much she's actually going to do for me if things actually do take a turn for the worst. She pitied me... but just how much?

I don't think I'll be getting much sleep tonight...