So, not allot really happened in that last chapter. Here's a little eventful one.

icanhearthedrums, thanks for the review! I personally love Nadir, he's so mysterious you can do what you wish with him.

Stargazer1364, thank you for this rather...enthusiastic review. Yes, it was rather low of Nadir - but boys will be boys I suppose. I'm glad it surprised you. I do so hate the cliché.

Barefootballerin... indeed.

Okay, so shall we get started?

For the remainder of the day, the petty persian was in the proverbial 'Dog House'. Cynthia, being the stubborn young woman she is, decided to ignore him pretending not to catch what he had said. Actions one would deem as immature. Yet, she had every right to do so.

Erik avoided him like the black death. Now seeing his once close friend as an enemy and pervert, making her wear such improper attire. Especially in fornt of a work force than was predominantly of male gender and of that sexual orientation. Many were even appalled at the new suitors behavior, Lily was furious!

So, she went to work beside Erik - helping to sort out the orchestra. After all, it needed it. She stood by his side all day, listening as they went through each aria, correcting mistakes for the big show tonight. Everything had to be perfect, Erik would not allow a single bum-note, the rhythm had to be bang-on and not any persons could be slacking. He was quite the slave driver.

Nadir found himself drowning his woes in the ale house down the road, it wasn't even mid-day. But there he found solace. He found he had something in common with all the drunks and the merry, he even started to dance with a few of them he recognised. Lots of them were people who Erik had fired yesterday.

In a moment of madness, he invited them back, slurring talk about jobs and gossiping about Erik. They were laughing. Many of the drunkards were falling back and onto the floor, unable to get themselves back up like toddlers. He found himself laughing and stumbling along with them, this was the life.

"Nadir!" Erik came barging in, pushing over several stools. "Nadir, what in Gods name are you doing here?!" The Phantom gripped his arm tight and tugged him from his stool. But the drunks legs were no longer of his own controlling and he fell down. Waving his free arm in the air, he laughed and burped as Erik started to drag him out of the stinking ale-house.

His usually smart attire was disheveled and unsightly. So he held him up against the alley wall outside the stinking brewery, growling in his face.

"Whut doo you want naw!" Hiccupped Nadir as he felt vomit rise to his mouth. Erik recognised the expression on his friends face and managed to dodge out, just before e spilt his breakfast all over the floor. Sighing impatiently, Erik began to drag him back to his house.

"Honestly Nadir..." He trailed off as he lead him to the mansion. It was a grand place. It towered over the bustling streets of higher London, white chalk like brick lined with gold like a palace. The sweet maid Marie opened the door and lead the drunkard up the oak spiral stair case. Everything here reminded him of the Opera house in France.

The golden statues, the white and red and blue furniture. The entire house had a mixture aroma of wine, roses and slight cologne. Erik felt very at home here, though it was the first time he had actually lived in a house - living in catacombs or in basements, or tents. Never had he had a proper home.

"Marie, come into my room Marie!" Nadir laughed hysterically as he fell into his room, "Join me in the bed Marieeeeeee!" Erik impatiently sighed, rubbing his temples and charged up the polished spiral staircase to his friend's room. There he lay, on the bed. "You're not Marie!" Nadir burped as he blinked a few times, looking around as if he had seen a ghost.

"Sadly not." The Phantom shut the door behind him and walked over to the four-poster bed. Nadir held his arms out, looking at him all lovey-dovey.

"Come Erik! Come lie with me!" Laughed the intoxicated Persian as Erik rose his brow. Suddenly, he began to turn his head around, looking left to right. "Where is Cynthia?" He carried on looking around frantically and even picked up a pillow, looking underneath it incase she was hiding from him. An unlikely scenario.

"She's at the Opera House, running the place. Which is usually your job." He jested. However his friend did not see the funny side, evident by his glare.

"Oi! I am good at my job!" He tried to argue as he started to already forget how the conversation had started.

Erik had never seen his friend this drunk since his Mother had died. He remembered finding him, vomit in his hair laid with a couple of prostitutes and a prize butchers turkey under his arm. Of course, he remembered nothing. It was quite obvious he was distraught about the heated row he had had with her.

She even went as far to slap him when he even mildly suggested that she was sleeping with Erik. Which he blushed at and had to turn away, as a lustful man - such thoughts had crossed his mind. But his Christine was so pure and sweet. He could never defile such angelic creature.

Cynthia was different. It wasn't just that he had taken a fancy for her, he lusted for her - whenever she would tap his shoulder or touch his hand he would try and keep her touch there for as long as possible. The smell of her perfume made him swoon. Her fiery temper ignited something deep inside his heart.

Her very presence rekindled a love he thought long gone, her pure passion for music set his head in a whirlwind. He was not sure if he should confront her as a suitor... His friend deserved a love sweet and pure. Yet all day she seemed so deep and lost in her own world. Even more so than usual.

This morning, as she sat at Nadir's desk - Erik went through the seating arrangements for the aristocracy in the local area. After repeating it several times, she had to write it down as she stared into space. He could have sworn she was thinking about Nadir, that faraway look. How he yearned she was thinking about him.

He finished tucking Nadir in and dressed up, changing his tie and suit jacket for the show tonight. Cynthia would be standing in Nadir's place so he had to find a stand-in violinist who was God-awful at playing. He would have to suffice.

During the short walk back to the Opera House, he let his mind wander - for at the moment it was rather lost. Trying to navigate its way through this maze of emotions and labyrinth of possibilities. There was too much ti handle inside his head, even for a genius like himself. If there was on thing that could stump him, it was love. So foreign.

As he battled his way through the crowds leading up to the stage, he heard whispers and gossip of the argument. People falsified information to make it seem as if she was actually being unfaithful - even if he had been her suitor for but a day. Erik pushed his way through them and announced himself at Nadir's office door to be greeted by no reply.

Curiously, he knocked but again there was no answer. So he opened the door to be greeted with one of the most blissfully peaceful sights he had ever laid his eyes upon. Cynthia, sleeping like a baby.

Her arms were folded up on the desk, over a piece of paper she had been shakily taking notes on. For someone who could not see what they were writing, she had such pretty handwriting. Her head was resting on her arms, her eyes were closed and her full red lips remained slightly parted as she took in deep and relaxed breaths.

Sometimes, her breaths would make sounds and her lips would twitch uttering words. For a while he stood watching. Watching the rise and fall of her chest and staring at those beautiful and pure red lips that were so shiny they could have been crafted from ruby.

He found his legs trailing over to her, without his permission. Now he had suffered for so long and come so far, he wanted to indulge himself so very badly. There was a queesy fluttering feeling in his stomach as he bent down to her level, holding his face inches from hers. Their lips were so close he could feel her warm breath against his skin.

Nervously, he withdrew. What if she woke mid-kiss and screamed and everyone came running? How could he ever explain? Nadir would surely string him up by his neck and leave him for dead. But he was so close now, he couldn't bear it.

So he leant down again, feeling her warm, sweet breath against his skin. Then he stole a kiss from her delectable lips. How he revelled in it, those few passionate moments passed so fast. He pulled away and recoiled, trying to see if she had awoken. Luckily, she had not. Wit a sigh and a shake of his head, he left - feeling ashamed.

As soon as the door clicked closed, Cynthia took in a deep breath. Opening her eyes with a start. She ren her fingers along her lips, a blush on her cheeks making her all rosy.

"He kissed me..." She whispered to herself. "He...actually kissed me..."

Bless.