Thank you for reading my work, truly.

To the beloved Guest who reviewed I want to thank you for such kind words. Indeed Erik's a brute, as one would expect of the murdering Phantom. However his tenderness will come out. Eventually.

Tearful, Cynthia sat in her dressing room, with the splintered door down the third corridor near the west exit - near the tiny alcove that was always cold no matter what the season. How she hated the mockery. It was not easy for those of a disadvantage to get work... anywhere. Nadir was kind to her, he saw her potential and heard her sweet music - so hired her. They needed a little passion back then.

But then the mocking soon came. The tripping and the moving her chair from under her, it reminded her of those days when she would try to guide herself down the street and people would mug her. After all, she couldn't identify them.

All around her took advantage of her. Mocked her, claiming that she should be in care, instead of doing what she so loved. Since a small child, ever since that first day she picked up her violin and played it with her father she knew it was what she wanted to do. She had her whole life ahead of her.

Though back then she was so innocent. So stupid. For in the real world, dreams do not come as easily, it takes all you have and gives very little back. Cruelty is all around, for those who are cruel hae had evil done upon them by others with sick ordeals in their past. Mockery upon those who mock. An endless cycle, an endless chain of nastiness and shunning, until you meet the bottom of the pile. In this case, it was her.

Those who cannot fend for themselves are cast aside. Yet Nadir reached out to her and gave her such opportunity, now that man, that brute and that 'conductor' had dashed her dreams once again. Recently, the mocking had lessened. Now, she knew it was to make its revival.

How could he have been so... blind? Of course, she had not announced it to him, but surely it was obvious - any idiot could have picked up the hints. Then again, he was probably too self-absorbed to noticed much else.

Footsteps began to gently pad to her door. Soft and quiet, making a pitter patter along the wood - Lily. As quick as a flash, Cynthia rubbed the tears from her eyes with a napkin she always had in her top right pocket and sat up straight. Trying her best to look presentable.

Without even knocking, which Cynthia thought rude, Lily opened he door. But there was something strange. For her sister was not alone, there was a man with her whose footsteps she never heard. His movements were so subtle and silent they escaped even her acute and inhumane hearing.

"In here, Sir." Lily sounded shyer than usual, using that rather comical 'posh voice' she used in the presence of men or those of higher standing. There was a musty, masculine smell in the air - but also slightly coppery however not so coppery that it was a distasteful smell. It was natural, nice.

"Thank you." Appreciated Erik to Cynthia's more celebrated and dearest sister. She heard the door close with a soft 'clack' and then turned her back to him.

"I'm sorry to disappoint you sir, but I do not wish to speak to you." From the crying, her voice sounded swollen and he heard the pain in it. Sighing, she heard him lean against the wall. Rather sloppishly too. "Excuse me Sir, just because I cannot see you does not mean that you do not have to be presentable and well-mannered in my presence. I am still a Lady, I am still human."

"Of course." The reprimanded Phantom apologised gracefully and then stood straight. "I have come to... apologise." Though on the surface it sounded sincere, Cynthia learned (from a lifetime of being unable to see facial expression) about the tones of the voice and hidden vindictiveness and callousness, sarcastic comments and snide remarks. This, was secretly sarcastic.

"Sir, you do not need to struggle to apologise. I have spent a lifetime dealing with the likes of you and I have learned to beg God to-" At this Erik scoffed.

"God, as if there is a God." A slight chuckle came from him, "I suppose you pray for him to spare our souls?" Ignoring him, she continued.

"I have learned to beg God to turn you away from his haven so that you can suffer as I have for all eternity." Erik stood, staring at her, wide-eyed.

"So... you want me to go to hell?" He asked, surprised at how offensive one dumb of the sense could be. For in books they are the innocent. But in this little tale of reality, she was more quick tounged and offending than any woman or man he had ever met. Toughened from years of hardship. As feisty and fiery as the colour of her red hair which now tickled along her shoulders.

"Precisely." Adding a sweet smile that instead of softening the blow somehow made it even more patronising. Had she been a man he would have punched her. He so wanted to. Anger was prominent on his face as he glared at her across the room. Despite the fact that she was blind, she had such an excellent way of reading silence and listening for slight things that suggest expression or emotion.

"Do stop grinding your teeth Mr. Destler. If you are so enraged, you should have thought about that before barging into my dressing room and making sarcastic comments at me." She stood as his jaw opened slightly to prevent him grinding his teeth. "Now do excuse me whilst I get my coat, I have places to be."

Erik looked around, scanning the room for her coat and saw it on the back of the chair. It was a fine coat too, it looked very warm - perfect for the weather.

"It's in front of you, it-" He began but was interrupted by her scolding and offended tone of voice.

"I know where it is you cretin! On the half broken chair - to the left when you opened the door. Now to my right." She stated proudly as she barged past him and grabbed her coat. It was amazing how she could even remember that. He supposed it was because she hadn't images to worry about, that her mind could focus on such detailed and precise location.

She swung open the door and stormed down the corridor. Barging past all in her way, then out onto the streets. Lily came running down the corridor just after she disappeared and with a worried and flustered look on her face, she ran up to the mysterious masked man. Who was closing the door behind him.

"Where did she go? She didn't run?! Anastasia said she saw her leaving?! Where did she go?!" The questions tumbled over each other and the little prim donna struggled for breath. Having come from a rehearsal. But Erik merely shrugged and began to walk his way back to the orchestra pit, observing once again the finery around him.

"Sir you don't understand! She could get mugged or kidnapped or worse! How could you let her leave?!" The small blonde banged her tiny fists on his back, angrily as he walked, causing his body to bob a little. After a while of this he scoffed.

"I'm sure she can handle herself. She's not a child anymore Miss Rivard. She has assured me that she is perfectly capable of taking care of herself." The Phantom stopped in his tracks. Making Lily bump into him and fall onto her backside, making Erik smile. "I'm sorry." He apologised and turned around, holding out his hand to her.

A small blush crossed her cheeks as she looked up at the taller man. It was only then that through the jacket of his suit did she notice just how broad his shoulders were, how prominent his chest was. He was a healthy and fit young man. Though she thought that, it was hard to gauge his age with the mask on - but Nadir had especially emphasised that no one was to ask about it.

Explaining that it was very personal. gave off this autocratic and authoritative vibe, even the toughest of men feared him when he shouted. Lily could hear his angry cries from her dressing room as he tore apart the orchestra. He scared her - a little.

Nonetheless she took his hand, feeling how firm and masculine it was. Erik recognised the blush over her face and nearly gasped, that's how his Christine would always go when Raoul would flirt with her - flicking his long and floppy blonde hair. In shock, he nearly let go. Glancing around as people began to stop and stare. After pulling her up he adjusted his suit jacket, cleared his throat and walked away.

Lily watched as he left and then looked around at the people staring at her. Giggling and whispering. Flicking her head up she walked away with much haste - trying to catch up with her sister. By now she could be God knows where. How could she have let herself get so distracted?!

Her pace quickened, then came to sudden halt as she saw Nadir standing in the doorway of the front of the Opera house. Cynthia stood but a few inches in front of him.

"That snide little mongrel!" Cynthia shrieked, all the malice in the world snaked in her voice. Her teeth were grinding to hard that Lily was scared she would wear them away. Cautiously, she approached, leaping into the conversation as bravely as she could.

"What is this about?" Pondered the pretty blonde, as Nadir bowed his acknowledgement of her entrance into the conversation.

"That ! He said that I am not reliable or able enough to play in his orchestra!" Fumed the auburn, her fists clenched and arms stretched by her sides.

"I will try to persuade him Cynthia, but Erik can be very stubborn. I wouldn't want the two of you at each others throats constantly." Nadir tried to assure her, but she was furious and having none of it.

"Don't bother!" She yelled, Lily had never heard her so insulted and ridiculed "I quit!" Cynthia started down the steps, taking larger ones than she needed in fear that she might trip. Stopping half-way down. Turning her head to them as she met the bottom. "And please tell Mr. Destler that if he wishes to run a good and strong orchestra, he should consider actually having people there to play the instruments!" Then she was gone.

Nadir leant on the frame of the door, taking a large sigh and rubbing his weary eyes. Lily patted his shoulder.

"Our orchestra is dropping like flies. Now she's gone..." The Persian trailed off and shook his head. Before clearing his throat and smiling, standing up straight once again. "Lily, you know how stubborn she can be, but she loves her music. She'll be back, will she not?" He asked, a little too hopeful.

"I-I do not know Sir. She does so loathe Mr. Destler. He was not kind nor considerate to her feelings Sir." Nadir sighed once again. Sometimes work was just too much. The Persian knew that when he took his old friend on that he would be a bother, but now he had rid of his favourite violin player. Wait, no! Their best violin player, that's what she was - she wasn't his favourite... He blushed at the thought of it.

"Mr. Kahn Sir. We have noticed that you seem to have a soft spot for my dear sister. Is this true?" He coughed slightly and laughed nervously.

"No! I assure you my relationship with your sister is strictly professional Miss Rivard!" Anxious, he began to walk down the corridor. Sceptical of him, she followed, prying with more questions. He did often spend time with her outside professional hours, accompanying her to and from parties. She too claimed that it was all strictly professional and perhaps it was to her.

"I'm sure it is. However the way it is portrayed is that you are her suitor." He began to cough and splutter, a bright blush so very evident on his cheeks. "Oh dear, I do belive you have gone rosy Sir." The man held his hand up to his face, blocking her view.

"Please, leave me alone Miss Rivard." He spluttered as he rushed into his office and slammed the door behind him. Taking deep and rapid breaths.

.

As the day drew to a close, Erik sat in the pitch black. Everyone had left the Opera house, leaving him completely alone. He sat, sprawled in the chair like a sloth. His tie sliding off him and his top buttons undone. Tempted to open up a bottle of wine and have a good drink, though he knew it wrong. It had been a long and stressful day. But he had finally found some musicians with a good sense of pitch. None of them were as blind as a bat either.

With a groan, he stood, walking past all the instruments in their cases. Running his hand along the brass, caressing the wood and tapping the metal. But when he got to the string section, he noticed something strange. So he stopped, crouching down. All day there had been a violin, leant upwards against the side of the chair, frontmost to him. Now it was gone.

Suddenly, a spotlight lit. A woman was stood centre stage, looking down at the ground. In her hand was the most beautifully crafted violin he ever did see. Shadows danced across her face, obscuring his view of her. Then as she slowly lifted her head, raising the instrument to her chin he saw who it was. It was her. Her auburn hair swishing side to side as she raised her bow. And played.

So yay