Well aren't you lucky? Two updates in one week? That's gotta be a new record or something. Anyway, short chapter, but when inspiration hits at 11 at night and won't leave you alone, you really aren't concerned about length so much as you are finishing the thing so you can sleep. Besides, like I said, you're already getting an update early, what more do you want? XD (kidding!) Read and Review like always, and if you have and questions, comments, concerns, suggestions, you can always leave them in a Review or PM me! Love you all!

~nibblesfan

Hidden in the darkness of the catwalks, Erik watched Ella run through the now empty theater to get back to the ballet dorms before she was missed. When she was out of sight, he exhaled slowly, realizing he had been holding his breath unintentionally.

He had to concede, Ella was even more talented than he had originally given her credit for. It had been obvious since he first heard her sing that she had natural talent, but even so, he had been planning on helping her improve it as well as get over her stage fright. But now, working with her voice one-on-one, he discovered there wasn't going to be a whole lot that needed help, technique-wise.

And God, that voice, that voice was going to be his undoing! Ever since Chris-…she left, Erik had forced himself to become an unfeeling stone column to survive the pain of the heartbreak. Yet Ella's voice called to him, and he could already feel cracks beginning to form. If he didn't get himself under control soon and keep himself in check, Erik was terrified he was going to fall and fall hard.

Ella was sweet, shy, pure, vulnerable, and talented. All those traits were the things that drew him to Christine years ago, and now were pulling him towards Ella. "Get ahold of yourself," he growled. "She recoiled when you touched her, remember?" But then she smiled at you and thanked you, a voice in the back of his mind reminded him. That doesn't seem like disgust.

Erik cursed himself for being so pathetically weak. "She's just a pretty face with a pretty voice. That's all she is, that's all she'll ever be," he repeated the entire way back to his lair. "There's no way she could ever love you. She'd run away just like Christine did."

He stared in the mirror, and sang to himself a reminder of what happened the last time he had gotten too attached to someone.

"To be involved with this
Would surely not be wise
For in the final word
She means nothing to me
The trick must be
To just avoid her eyes
And the question
What she means to…"

Erik shook his head, frantically trying to clear his mind, trying to rid it of the young redhead who was plaguing his every thought.

"Who is this child?
What does she mean to me?
I close my eyes
And still her face I see
She is but one
Her kind is everywhere
Can't you see there's no way I should care?
And you see it in the night
And you feel that it's out there
It's the arcing of a life
And it's hanging in the air
Though I try to close my eyes
And pretend that I don't know
In my heart I just can't let it go
There has to be another way for me
A way that leads from this insanity
A way that leads from my destruction as I say
Can you see it in the night?
Can you feel that it's out there?
It's the arcing of a life
And it's hanging in the air
Though I try to close my eyes
And pretend that I don't know
In my heart I just can't let it
Go"

He sat down next to his organ and sighed in frustration. Absent-mindedly, he tapped a few keys. Then a few more. Then a whole song, then two, and even more. Erik's eyes grew wide when he realized he was playing, really playing, for the first time since Christine left. Not only did he now have a new protégé, he apparently also had a new muse. He shifted the song to something softer, lighter. Something that, with a little work of course, could perhaps be a song for his new pupil.

Upstairs, Ella was tossing and turning violently in her bed, her mind far from the Opera Populaire. 'Papa!' she could hear a young girl scream. 'Stop! You're hurting him! No! You're going to kill him! Papa!'

Ella sat up with a gasp, her chest heaving. She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself after the nightmare, her eyes darting around the room to make sure she hadn't woken anyone else up. When she confirmed that all the other dancers were still asleep, Ella buried her face in her pillow.

Several tears slid down her cheeks as she tried in vain to remove that image from her thoughts. The one she knew would haunt her for the rest of her life. She was afraid to sleep again tonight, because every time she closed her eyes, there was a cold, dead stare waiting for her. "I'm sorry," she whispered into her pillow. "I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry. I couldn't stop him. Please forgive me."

For what seemed like hours, Ella remained tormented by the awful nightmare. Suddenly a sound drifted through the silent night. It sounded like a piano, but it was so soft, Ella was almost positive she was dreaming it. The music was warm and soothing, and within mere minutes, it had lulled her into a much more peaceful sleep.