I sadly don't own the Phantom or any other characters created by G. Leroux, S. Kay and A. L. Webber, but they always have a place in my heart. Thanks to Green6Eyed7Lady for looking over my chapter!

THE BALL PART 2

After Erik had left his wife with Florence, he purposefully made his way towards Christine. When he came close though, she was involved in a conversation with an elderly woman.

But as if she had sensed him, her head rose, and her eyes met his. He gave a slight nod, then walked out onto the terrace. Choosing a spot that was only dimly lit but gave him full view of the doors, he waited nervously, not sure if Christine had understood his wink.

Only seconds later, his former pupil emerged through the doors, her eyes roaming over the terrace, searching for him.

"Angel?" she whispered.

"Over here."

Christine turned and hesitantly approached him. Even in the dim light, she was still breathtakingly beautiful. She had filled out a bit, clearly for lack of constant exercise that she had had while being a dancer.

"My god, it really is you," she said when she had come close enough.

When this woman and the tall man had offered their congratulations, he had immediately seemed familiar. It had taken her a while to notice the mask, but then she instantly had to think of her former teacher. But she thought it impossible that this man could be the Opera Ghost. He seemed so different, the only resemblance being the mask.

But when he had looked at her before walking outside, she suddenly was sure of his identity. Those golden eyes were unforgettable.

Timidly, her hand rose to his new mask, not really surprised that he shied away. "What are you doing here?"

"Christine…."

Erik was at a loss for words. For so long, this woman standing in front of him had occupied his thoughts, had been his whole world. But when she reached for him, he had a flashback of her revealing his deformity for the whole opera house to see. He never feared exposure when he was with Joséphine.

'What in God's name am I doing?' he asked himself. Instead of kissing the grounds the woman that loved him sincerely was walking on, he hurt her and continuously stalked after the woman that already had rejected him once because she loved someone else.

He took her hand and put it back to her side. Christine looked at him, bewildered. "Angel? Please, talk to me," she pleaded. "I prayed that we would meet again."

Erik cast her a doubtful look. "You did?" he asked her.

Christine smiled; glad that her guardian finally spoke to her again.

"Of course," she told him enthusiastically. "I always wondered what had become of you after…after that night." She hesitated a moment. "I feared that you might have…"

'Committed suicide because I could not imagine living without you?' Erik thought. It was true that he had thought about ending his life, but he would never tell her that. And thanks to Joséphine those dark thoughts really belonged to the past.

"Have what?" he asked her, his tone soft but demanding.

"Never mind," Christine answered, feeling that it was unwise to linger on that particular subject. Instead, she talked about the first thing that came to her mind. "This woman, is she really your wife?"

Erik only nodded, suddenly wanting to end this conversation as soon as possible and return to his wife. But he had not counted on Christine's reaction to his revelation.

Christine raised her hand again, but this time stopped at his shoulder, her fingers playfully caressing his collar. "I thought you loved me," she said, pouting.

Before Erik knew what was happening, Christine had risen on her toe tips and pressed her lips on his. The moment their lips touched, Erik knew that he no longer loved her. He even started to get angry with her for kissing him. How dare she? And at a ball in her own home, with her husband not far away.

Then, realisation dawned on him. She may not love him, but had always counted on him desperately being in love with her. It hurt her that he was married, to find out that she was no longer the sole object of his affection. Had she always been that superficial that she thought everyone must adore her? Erik had no answer to that.

Erik started to break away when he heard the voice he least had wanted to hear in that particular moment.

Joséphine really did not feel so well, and the alcohol in the punch apparently was doing her no good either. She had started to feel dizzy now, and was glad when she could feel the cooling breeze from outside.

Stepping through the doors, she took a deep breath, inhaling the cool night air. A light sent of jasmine was lingering in the air, coming from the darker corner to her left. She turned her head, her eyes slowly adjusting to the dark.

And then, all the hopes she had just had moments ago evaporated into smoke. There, in the corner, Erik was kissing Christine. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she felt as if her heart was torn into a thousand million pieces. Having proof that Erik really did not love her, was only passing his time with her until he had Christine back, hurt more than she would have ever thought possible.

She must have said something, because suddenly Erik broke away from the girl and looked at her. The surprise was evident in his eyes. Her own darted towards his lips, remembering their kisses. It had all been a fake. He had made her fall in love with him, played with her like a spider with a fly, caught in its net. And she had been stupid enough to fall for it.

She did not want him to see her tears, so she turned around, dashing back into the room.

When Erik stepped away from Christine, he only saw Joséphine turn around hastily, rushing back inside.

"Oops." His eyes darted back towards Christine, who had the nerve to look at him innocently, grinning.

Disgusted, he shot her a look that made her still instantly. "Angel?" she said hesitantly.

"I am no longer your Angel, and now excuse me; I have to see to my wife."

"But…"

"Go back to your husband, Christine, he loves you." 'Even though he would probably be better off without you.'

All this really had been one of his less brilliant ideas. 'Idiotic, that's the word you're looking for,' his conscience mocked him when he passed through the crowd in search for his wife. 'Irrational, just like in your high times as the Phantom,' the voice continued.

'Enough,' he silenced the voice. 'I will…'

Suddenly, he heard a commotion inside, followed by surprised yells and calls for help. A dark foreboding came over him, and he dashed trough the crowd towards it.

When the crowd parted to reveal what had happened, he thought his heart had stopped for a moment. There on the floor lay Joséphine, unconscious, her face as pale as his old mask had been. A few people were bent over her, trying to help her.

"Joséphine!" In a second, he was at her side, trying to waken her. Panic seized him, the fear of losing her the moment he had finally realised that he loved her overwhelming. Tears started falling down his face when she did not react.

"Please, wake up! I love you, Joséphine, wake up!" he cried, not noticing that one of the persons next to him had reverted his attention from the unconscious woman on the floor to him, observing his face, or, in fact his mask.

Raoul had not noticed the mask at first, when the Marquise and her family had offered their congratulations. Only after a while, he had realised why the face of Erik Perrault appeared a bit strange. But no one, not even Christine seemed to make the same connection like he did. In fact, this man seemed to know some of the other invites, chatting amiably with them and showing no sign of being uncomfortable.

While he had danced with the Comtesse de Faubournet de Montferrand, who he knew had been present that fateful night at the Opera Garnier, he had nonchalantly inquired about him. The Comtesse had waved off his suspicions, telling him that she had already met him before at a dinner, and that in no way Erik Perrault could be the person he thought him to be. But still, she could not fully appease his doubts.

So when he had seen the daughter of Stanislas d'Escayrac pass the ball room without her husband, he had approached her, asking her, hopefully unsuspicious, about her husband and his strange 'accessory'. Thankfully she had not been the least bit offended by his inquiry, answering him without hesitation, and he sensed immediately that she truly loved her husband.

But what if he was the Phantom and she simply didn't know? Suddenly, the woman in front of him had grown ghostly pale, her eyes turning upwards, and she had fainted dead away. He had reacted instinctively, catching her fall, so she did not hit her head on the floor.

Other guests gathered around them, someone calling for a doctor, and then, Erik Perrault had appeared, kneeling down next to his wife, begging her desperately to wake up.

For the first time, Raoul de Chagny had the chance to observe him up close, noticing not only the mask, but also the fake hair. He really had a striking resemblance to the Phantom of the Opera.

One of the main reasons for their small wedding and rash departure on honeymoon had been his fear that, despite having let them go that night, the Phantom would come after Christine again. They only had returned that early because she was pregnant, and he did not want to tire her from travelling. There had been no sign of the Opera Ghost since they had left, and Raoul thought it save enough to return.

And now the monster apparently was back, had set foot on the Chagny property, but instead of going after Christine, he was kneeling above another woman with tears streaming down his face, telling her he loved her.

Erik was desperate. Why wouldn't she wake up? She had looked sick the last few days, and a dark thought crossed his mind. Could it be that Clara had something to do with this? Had this been her plan all along? He looked up, searching for her face in the gathered crowd, but could not see her. If she was responsible for Joséphine's current state, he would kill her and never regret it.

The doctor arrived, checking Joséphine's body for any outward injuries, then recommended to get her home as soon as possible for further treatment. Erik only nodded, still in a daze.

'Please, don't let her die!' he thought desperately.

When he scooped Joséphine's unconscious body up in his arms, he saw Christine approach the Vicomte.

'It would only fit,' he thought cynically, 'that she tells her husband who I am, now that I rejected her. But if Joséphine dies, I no longer care what happens to me.'

Not waiting what Christine would tell the Vicomte, he followed the doctor outside, the crowd hastily parting for them.

When Christine came back inside, still offended by Erik's rejection, and intent to talk to Raoul, she was surprised to find a big commotion across the room. Thinking that Raoul, in his duty as tonight's host, might be there, she walked over, in her mind already preparing what she wanted to tell him. She did not expect to find both Erik and Raoul, tending to the woman her former teacher had left her for.

The moment Erik took Joséphine into his arms she bent down to her husband's ear.

"The Phantom, Raoul, he is here!" she whispered, trying to appear shocked and scared.

Raoul turned his head to look at her. So it really was the Phantom, but why had Christine not told him earlier, if she had already recognised him before?

"It's him," Christine continued, discretely pointing at Erik's retreating form. "Don't let him leave, or he will try to hurt me again!"

Raoul looked back towards the Phantom, who at the moment disappeared into the corridor towards the main doors. He could not imagine that the tears that man had spilt were faked. He had moved on, and no longer was a threat to them. And if Joséphine would get well again, he would not take away the man she loved from her.

Making up his mind, he stood up. "Erik Perrault? He's not the Phantom, you must be mistaken."

Christine looked at him, shocked.

"But…"

"They may have the mask in common, but that is not the same man that haunted you at the opera," Raoul told her sternly, indicating clearly that he was not willing to talk about that subject again.

"Now come, we have to make sure that the ball continues."