Erik's POV

"Oh, ange, you're awake…"

I had to think quickly. I had to act fast. Christine was here, and in my room. No! I wouldn't allow it. Despite the agony I was in, I maneuvered my body off the bed and held onto my bed frame for support.

"Angel, you shouldn't be out of bed…"

"Out!" I cried pointing to the door. "Get out!"

The child ran behind Christine and hid beneath her skirts. Great, at least I frightened him. Christine's face turned to one filled with seriousness. I wouldn't have this. I would make her leave!

"Angel…"

"Do not call me that!" I growled. "You are not welcome here! GET OUT!"

At this point, the boy began to sob uncontrollably.

"Gustave, it's all right," Christine assured, but the child didn't listen. Instead, he darted out into the hall, leaving Christine and I alone.

"All we wished to do was help," Christine disappointedly replied.

"Don't come back here again, Christine," I warned. "If you do, the consequences will be fatal. If you love that little brat of yours, you best stay away."

Christine didn't say another word. She simply hurried out into the hall and left me alone. I waited until I heard the door to my home slam shut, before hurrying down the stairs to lock it. I nursed my own wounds, laying in the comfort of my own bed while my back slowly healed. Christine had helped me, but I didn't need her help or anyone else's. She would stay away, or else her boy would disappear. I had no problem with getting rid of children. Yes, I had never done it before, but I wouldn't have a problem ridding the world of Christine's child. All through the night, I laid in bed on my stomach, my body aching and burning from my sore flesh. It hurt terribly, but I didn't care. Oh, a good night's rest was all I wished for.

I was thankfully off the following morning, and I didn't bother getting out of bed. Instead, I laid there while it rained and rained. The thunder soothed my wounds and lulled me in and out of sleep. I had thought that kicking Christine out was for the best, for I soon found out that I couldn't clean and bandage my own back. Infection would most likely begin to settle if I didn't take matters into my own hands. But, like the stubborn man that I was, I let it go and sat shirtless at my desk, pouring my body and soul into my music. Though, a few moments later, I heard the door opening, only to turn around and spot Madame Giry walking in…and she had a key! Oh, damn this woman. I left her house to be alone, and yet, she was still bothering me.

"Your back is a horrid mess, Erik…"

She hurried to my side and attempted to touch the healing scars, but I moved away from her.

"How in God's name did you get a key to my home?!" I angrily snapped.

"I too, am a magician, Erik. You're not the only one…"

The old woman spun around and began walking along the perimeter of my home.

"This place is a disgrace…Cold and condemned."

"Good," I snapped. "It's my lair all over again."

"And have you been eating?" she spat. "Look at this sorry excuse for a kitchen, Erik. Your cupboards are bare."

"Go away, Madame. Nothing you can say will change my mind about wanting to move back with you. I like it here…I have plenty of privacy and it's home."

"Erik, you do know that Christine was only trying to help you."

I slammed my fists into my desk and shot to my feet. "Enough about that dreadful woman! Just because you invite her over for dinner every night does not mean that I have to be friendly with her! I don't care that she wishes to be friendly with me, because the truth of it all is that I hate her! I hate that little vermin for what she did, and there will be nothing that can change that. So, if you're here to drill that little idea into my head, I suggest that you leave and never come back!"

"Christine told me that you kicked her out. I don't know what you believe, Erik, but Christine did nothing to you. She didn't sick the mob on you, nor did she destroy your life. She simply left, and all because you let her go. That is all… You don't know a thing about her when it comes to the past five years. In my personal opinion, the girl has suffered more than you could ever know."

"Oh for Christ sakes, Madame, she's probably singing for Hammerstein in his opera house down town. That's gratitude for you. I teach the girl everything there is to know about singing and she stabs me in the back and takes her talent with her."

"Hammerstein?" Madame Giry sarcastically chuckled. "Oh, Erik, you have a lot to learn. She's working at Madame Marcel's Marvelous Eight."

My heart stopped within my chest. Christine? Working at Madame Marcel's? Oh, it was such a despicable place…

"The gentleman's club?" I breathlessly questioned.

Madame Giry nodded.

"I hope she isn't truly selling herself on that horrible stage…"

"No, Erik. She is a waitress. Though, that isn't to say that the customers don't attempt to touch her while she's working."

"Why would she be working there? She should be working in an opera house! Why, Madame! I demand to know the reason why she's working at that disgusting gentleman's club?!"

"To support her child, of course. As a mother, I know what other mothers would do to support their children. I, myself, was a single mother, Erik."

"And where is the boy! Where is that sorry excuse for a husband?"

"If you're so interested, then why don't you go and find out yourself?"

And with that, Madame Giry left me alone. Oh, it boggled my mind to no end. So much, that I ventured to her workplace myself. I had only ever been to Madame Marcel's Marvelous Eight one time, and that was the worst experience of my life. It was the exact gentleman's club where the women rejected me. Therefore, I decided to stay away from such a place. I entered the building and took a seat in the back of the restaurant, not really being too interested in the women who were dancing half naked on stage, while the entire house of men hollered and chanted out disgusting things. I, of course, was the only one who was sitting towards the back. I wasn't good enough for any woman, not even a whore. Once they saw my white mask, they acted as though I were carrying the plague.

"What can I get you, sir?"

I kept my head down as I heard the familiar voice. I knew it was Christine…But, I didn't want to cause a scene. Therefore, I kept my head down and answered her.

"A glass of red wine, please."

"Coming right up."

When I heard her walking away, I lifted my head to find Christine heading towards the kitchen, wearing one of the most despicable outfits I had ever seen. The black skirt nearly came up to her butt, exposing most of her legs that were covered in fishnet stockings. The very image of it made my blood boil with want, but at the same time, it angered me. She used to be this innocent and perfect creature, but now, she was anything but. Lowering herself to a place like this…Oh, it was horrible. When I caught sight of her approaching my table again, I lowered my head.

"What's the matter, sir?" she began. "It's strange to see a man not truly interested in the dancing women. The only ones who sit back at these tables are passed out drunks."

It was then, that I raised my head, only to have her gasp at the sight of me.

"What are you doing here?" she snapped.

"Might I ask you the same question?"

"That's an odd thing to ask me! And you have to right to judge me…"

"Have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately?"

Christine's jaw dropped and she gazed down at her skirt.

"Look who's talking. Any man in here would be happy to see me dressed like this."

"Really, Christine?" I growled. "Look at these men…Look at them. Do you really think that they would care about your personality? No, they're staring at your bottom. It's disgusting… How could you have lowered yourself to this level of scum?"

"You seem to be the scum, for you're here… Do you take these women to bed too? If you do, then you have no right to sit here and judge me. You know nothing of me…Nothing!"

"I know enough to know that you were a rising star five years ago. And instead, you're here in this disgusting place. Why are you waiting tables to the scum of Coney Island?"

"I have a child to feed and clothe. A mother would do anything for their child…There's not a thing I wouldn't do for my son. That's right…I said my son!"

"Hey, is this man bothering you?"

A man approached my table, a man who was much taller and stronger than I was. It was obvious that he owned the club. Christine looked at him, before looking back at me.

"Yes, Mr. Marcel, he is…"

Christine stood there as the man approached me and pulled me up by my shirt.

"I can walk myself out, thank you very much…." I snapped, pushing the man off of me.

Thankfully, the man released me and I made my way towards the door with Christine still looking my way. Though, before I could reach the door, some of the dancers began to laugh at me and chant out horrible things.

"Hey, freak," one called. "Long time no see…"

"How about another go? Or not…" laughed another.

"I wouldn't touch that with a ten foot pole."

Soon, the men were laughing as well. My hand paused on the doorknob as I took one last look at Christine, who's face seemed to be filled with regret for what she had done. But I didn't care, I left while my heart bled within my chest. The world was such a cruel place, so cruel, and yet, filled with so much hate. I arrived home and took a seat at my desk, too irritated to care. I poured my heart and soul into my music, like I did with everything else. I wasn't sure what time I heard a knock at my door, but when it occurred, I stopped writing and glanced at the time. It was nearly midnight…Oh, who could this be? I stretched my aching shoulders and headed downstairs, pulling open the door to find Christine standing there. As soon as I saw her, I slammed the door in her face and headed back towards the stairs.

"Please, let me speak with you."

I paused when I reached the makeshift railing. Oh, why was I about to give this woman the time of day? I had tried to talk with her earlier, but that got me nowhere but angry.

"And why should I? You didn't seem to care that I was willing to speak with you a few hours ago. What changes that now?"

"I'm sorry," she cried. "I didn't…I mean, I wasn't thinking."

I stayed silent, but that didn't seem to stop her from trying to make her way into my home.

"May I come in?"

"Absolutely not," I growled. "It's not appropriate. Which is why it angered me when you entered my home the other day. It wasn't right…"

"I'm sorry…I only wanted to help you. Please, could we speak…"

"Where?" I angrily questioned.

"There is a twenty four hour café close by…"

"I know the place," I snapped. "Just give me a moment to get dressed and I'll be down."

When Christine agreed, I hurried upstairs and threw on a shirt and my mask. After adjusting my wig and placing on my black gloves, I came back down stairs and locked up. It was awkward standing before this woman after five years, but even so, I didn't have a single nice thing to say to her.

"You get off at midnight?" I questioned as we walked towards the café.

Christine nodded. "Yes, I work six nights a week from three to twelve."

"It's a little dangerous walking around these parts at that hour, don't you think?"

"What choice do I have? I need to work…"

"Right," I said. "For your child. Might I ask, what do you do with him?"

"That is none of your concern," she cried. "He's safe…"

"Christine, I only asked a question. Where is the child?"

"Home, in bed."

"By himself?" I questioned, raising a brow.

Christine nodded. "He knows to stay inside the apartment. I make him dinner and then go to work. He's responsible for his age…He has to be…"

I saw tears escaping Christine's eyes, but I didn't dare go to her aid. No, instead, I sat her down at one of the tables at the café and ordered us some tea. Oh, it was going to be a long night.

"I'll give you the ten cents," she replied, reaching into her pocket.

"No, it's on the house," I said, placing her tea down in front of her.

"I shouldn't even be here talking to you," she said. "I should be home with Gustave."

"So, you named him after your father?"

Christine nodded. "It was only right…"

"Christine, why are you here on Coney Island? Why aren't you in Paris, with your husband? Where is he? I haven't once seen him lurking around…"

Christine began to tremble with fear, her body wracking with sobs. Though, the tears slid silently down her cheeks as she looked up at me and wiped her eyes.

"W…What is your name?" she questioned.

"My name?

Christine nodded. "All my life I have been calling you angel…You told me not to call you that any longer. And so, if I'm about to tell you about the past five years of my life, I need to be able to trust you. I need to know your name."

"No one's ever asked me for my name before," I replied, running my gloved finger up the side of my cup. "Madame Giry has known it, but never has anyone ever wanted to know my name. Strange, for not even you have wanted to know my name in the past."

"Please, tell me…Tell me your name, and I will tell you everything."

I made eye contact with Christine, and opened my mouth. "It's Erik…"

"Erik," she tasted it on her lips and tried to smile. "It suits you."

I nodded. "It's the only name I've ever known….Now, what is your story."

It was then, that I was forced to sit and listen to Christine's past…Or at least the past five years…Sheer horror…

Please review!