Chapter 3

I darted out of the theatre, wanting to be anywhere the Phantom wasn't. I knew he was going to be wherever Christine was; she was on the stage, so ergo I wasn't. I wasn't really thinking about where I was going, only that I wanted to be somewhere secluded. When my feet had finally listened to my brain to stop, I was in the chapel. I remember this scene, Christine told the story of her father and then right before the Don Juan scene cried to Raoul about being scared. I looked at the stained glass Angels and wondered how long it would be before people come up here. This could be my own little safe haven.

I quickly returned to my room to retrieve some paper and pencil, glancing around occasionally and discreetly walking through the halls, hoping not to be spotted. As soon as I had what I wanted I swiftly returned to the Chapel. Sighing my delight at not being seen I sat down on the floor and began to draw my forte, wolves. When I was younger it was dragons, but ever since I turned twelve it's been wolves. I have been breeching my comfort zone as of late though, which came in handy today.

I don't remember how long I was there drawing, but all too soon my temporary bliss ended. My earlier terror had returned with a vengeance when a smooth deep voice half whispered, "Interesting."

My drawing hand twitched, I let go of my pencil, slowly standing and looking around as to not be taken by surprise. I don't show fear that often, but I was a bit scared right now. What was that saying in the movie and musical?

I started to hum the tune in my head then found the words, 'Keep your hands at the level of your eyes.' I slowly pulled my arm up to my neck, looking as if I was only uncomfortable with the situation. I swallowed then said, "What is?"

"Why, your drawing of course. It is obviously a wolf, but there is a slight difference in style that is new to me."

I looked down at my drawing of a wolf; it had some... human-esque features. Cartoonish is what I called it, but it was more often than not distinguished as 'Anime', much to my chagrin. I smiled, "It's... an animated type of drawing...?"

I trailed off, unsure how to explain it. Trying again I explained, "Not really realism, but... I don't know. It's just how my style developed over the years." I had finished but he remained silent. Tensing up, I added, "The modern styles in America influenced me a lot."

"Ah." The Phantom said as if a great epiphany had happened. "So, that's where you are from. Indulge me mademoiselle, why did you come here in the first place?"

Instinctively my leg began to bounce up and down. Whenever I was mad or nervous this happened, it was pure habit. I had to be logical; he was probably listening in on my conversation with Madame Giry, so that means I can't lie. If I lied he would catch me and I would be in so much trouble. I bit the inside of my lip then mumbled, "My friend wanted to come here." That wasn't a lie; Erica would die if she was able to be here...no pun intended.

"Who is this friend of yours?" he asked.

I stopped for a moment, he sounded much closer than he did before. I looked around but didn't see him, and as I talked I crept slowly towards the exit. "She and I have known each other for six years; she is a fan of yours."

"Yes," he said casually "from the newspaper; but you are not?"

I was maybe three feet from the exit, but I had to act casual. I tilted my head to the side a bit, as if thinking, then glanced to the exit yelling, "Nope," as I dashed to freedom. I was just about to slip through the archway when a swirl of black blocks my path and slams the door, which I didn't even know was there, shut.

I jump back in surprise mumbling, "Shit!"

The Phantom raised his visible eyebrow, probably at my language. There is at least five feet of space between us, I try to add more but every time I take a step back he takes a step forward. I stay put, deciding some space is better than none. He stares at me, studying the features of my face, and I can barely breathe. It's not because he is looming over me like death itself, or the fact that his eyes are studying me like a hunter before it catches its prey, oh no; it was the fact that a very distinct piece of white rope was visible under his cape. His...'magical lasso'.

"You seem nervous." He stated calmly, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. I pulled my eyes away from the rope to look at him, and he seemed to be wearing a ghost of a smile on his face.

This bastard would have a bloody nose by now if he wasn't...well, who he was. I finally took a breath then stated, "I am nervous. Actually, I'm more wary than anything."

"Who are you?" He asked standing straight and glaring at me.

"My name is Hailey, and I want to leave."

"Then leave," he said as if I had insulted him.

"Listen...wait what was your name?" I asked as I tried to remember.

"I didn't give it-" he began, but I cut him off laughing.

"Erik, that's it. Duh, how the hell did I forget that? That's all-woah!" I jumped back as he made an attempt to grab me. We both fell to the ground, he grabbed my ankle but as I scrambled to get away I grabbed a lit candle. He looked up at me as I held the candle next to his 'hair'. He glared at me as if I was about to be strangled, which could possibly be the case.

He growled, punctuating each of his words, "How. Do. You. Know. My. Name?"

"Let me go, or I'll burn your wig. Trust me, if the good side of your face gets burnt you're screwed." With a sneer he released my ankle and I jerked it back, swiftly tucking it underneath me. I smoothed my hair back as he sat up on his knees and I muttered, "Where the hell is Erica when you need her?"

"Who is that, and how do you know these things about me?" Erik snarled menacingly.

"I'm not from here." I blurted out against my will. I slapped my forehead, smooth Hailey, smooth. "What I mean is, obviously I'm not from France, but I'm not even from America in this time. I'm from West Virginia, in 2012, well 2013 now since the year just turned. I was born October 30, 1996; I'm sixteen years old and I know all of these things because..."

I stopped, how much should I actually tell him? Why am I trusting him? Why am I sitting here explaining myself when I could be running? The Phantom cleared his throat to grab my attention, remarking, "Not to seem rude, but if you expect me to believe you are not insane and do not belong in an asylum, then finish your sentence."

"My best friend, she was probably your biggest fan, she has read everything there is to know about you. She knows your music by heart, she knows your past, she knows about Christine, and...She knows about your deformity. So do I, only because she never stops talking about you."

Erik looked at me as if I had a watermelon growing out of my head, "She knows and you do as well, how did you come across this information?"

I shrugged, "Your life was written down and turned into an Opera, which she has seen every version of."

"Why was she so interested in me?" He asked, looking suspicious.

I laughed, "If I knew that I would be rich; why does somebody love anything? They have a strong, obvious or sometimes deep, connection to the subject in question. With you, I think she connected with the tragic romance of it all. The love triang- I mean, your passion towards love and music. She saw that, in our generation nobody acts like that, and I think she wanted a life like that in some way. If I could switch places with her right now, so she could meet you, I would."

I paused to see his reaction to all of this, it wasn't good. Nope, he didn't believe a word I said. He abruptly stood, "If I were you, I wouldn't open my mouth spouting craziness like that. If it were anyone else I would extract them from the theatre myself, but lucky for you you've been in an accident and I'm in a good mood, so I'll ignore your ramblings. Just go back to whatever you were doing before."

He disappeared around the corner while I sat there, completely shocked. He...I just...wouldn't he...? Ugh! What did I expect?! This isn't Fan fiction; of course he isn't going to believe me! I pounded a fist on the concrete underneath me as I got up; I swiped my drawing from the floor then paced back to my room. I was pissed. I turned a sharp corner then connected with...a wall of some sort. I fell on my butt so hard it echoed, and I was about to get up when two strong arms grabbed my elbows, swiftly pulling me up. When I looked up the 'wall' that I ran into was none other than Raoul De Chagny.

"I'm sorry, Hailey. It seems I can't help but run into you everywhere I go. Are you okay?"

I poked his chest saying, "I'm fine, but what are you, a body builder? I ran into you and thought I hit a brick wall."

Raoul seemed to take that as a compliment, it even looked as if he had puffed his chest out a bit more; pshh, men.

He smiled, "Thank you but no, I was in as much a hurry as you appeared to be. My brother sent word to me that our sister was hurt; I have to return to my chateau. I will be back tonight though, with any luck."

"You have a sister?" I asked confused. Since when? Philippi yes, but a sister? Erica never mentioned a sister before.

"Yes," Raoul confirmed, "she's my adopted sister, she's about your age. She was out walking today near some of the cliffs a couple of miles away from our home, apparently there was a rock slide. It took her along with it, she hit her head pretty hard on some rocks, but Philippi says she should be okay. I'm returning home just to make sure."

"Oh," I nodded, "well give her my best and tell her I hope she'll be okay."

Raoul nodded then bowed, "Till we meet again, hopefully without one of us being injured."

I giggled...wait, I GIGGLED?! When the hell did I ever giggle? "Check around every corner and maybe we'll accomplish that." He smiled one last time then exited the building. Sister? How much of the story don't we really know?

(Four Hours Later)

Christine was about to go on, and I was up on the catwalks with Anthony. After meeting everyone, I'd have to say that I liked Anthony the best; he was sweet, funny, and he seemed interested in my life. He was constantly asking me questions about America, and what other things besides drawing that I dabbled in. I didn't mind talking to him; he seemed to be the only person relatively close to somebody I would hang out with back home. I laughed as one of the ballerinas nearly wiped out; thankfully she caught herself before it was noticeable to the audience. Anthony changed one of the backdrops then returned by my side.

Here we go, I thought as Christine appeared center stage. So far from what I can tell this is like the 2004 movie, Christine even sounded like the same girl who played her part. I saw Raoul and a few other aristocrats in Box 5, but as I glanced over I saw a girl with Blonde hair walking out. For a moment I thought it was...she walked like her, stood like her...her hair? I shook my head, it was impossible and it was just my overactive imagination being hopeful.

Christine had finished the song and Anthony quickly laid down on his stomach saying, "Grab my legs!"

Before I could ask what he meant half of his body went off the side. I grabbed his legs pulling him back up screaming, "Are you...nuts?"

He held a white rose in his hand, twirling it between his fingers while I stared at him.

He laughed, "The stage hands always try to catch one of the white roses since they are so rare, everyone throws red or pink. This is the first time I ever caught one. Thank you."

After he said that he smiled the biggest smile I had ever seen in my life, it made me laugh, "Next time give me a better heads up, I nearly dropped you Mr. Acrobat."

"Ah, don't worry about it, I trust you."

I smiled, this was going to be fun, saying, "You probably shouldn't."

He turned a bit too quickly to look at me, he was surprised, and he tipped his hand. "Why not?" he asked, trying to seem calm.

"Well you don't know me that well, yes you know about me, but you have only known me a day. How can you say you trust me with your life, I could have dropped you, it would only have taken a second to let go...and maybe three for you to hit the stage."

I smiled, he looked worried for a moment, but quickly recovered saying, "I may not have known you longer than a day but I do know that you are what was the word you used before? 'Screwing' with me."

I tried not to laugh and look as serious as I possibly could, but I realized he saw through my facade. Anthony tsked at me then said, "You need to work on your acting skills if you're ever going to get out on stage."

"I don't plan to ever go on stage." I said confidently, because I didn't.

"We shall see about that."

"What?" I asked Anthony confused.

When I looked at him his face went pale, whispering, "I didn't say anything."

"Let's get out of here." I gulped before he grabbed me by my arm, pulling me to the staircase, but instead of following him down I started to pull him up further.

When I threw open the final door we were on the roof, oh God, déjà vu much? If either of us started to sing I was going to rip my hair out.

"Creepy, huh?" Anthony said, swiftly pulling me away from my own thoughts.

"Yeah," I agreed "I was never one for a lot of paranormal stuff. As long as we're up here I think we're good though."

Anthony nodded, it was quiet up here and warm for the time of year. We both walked closer to the edge, I leaned against the edge of a statue while Anthony stood there staring off into space for a moment.

Anthony sighed, which surprised me; he seemed like one of those guys that were always in a good mood no matter what. I looked up at him questioningly then asked, "What's wrong?"

Anthony looked at me pleadingly, almost as if he was begging my forgiveness for something. "I'm sorry." Oh no, this wasn't going to be good. "I know that you are from America and different from girls around here but, I didn't know that something like that happened to you."

For a moment my heart stopped, stuttering I asked "W-what are you talking about?"

"I know," Anthony whispered. "I know you are not from this time, and I know how you got here."

I laughed, "Funny, Anthony. Yes, I'm here because I got hit by a carriage."

He shook his head, "No, I know the truth."

"Ok Anthony," I exclaimed getting up. "I'm going to leave because you're starting to creep me out."

"Just listen to me!" He yelled as I opened the door, I paused a moment looking at him.

"I know about Erica dying. She didn't!"

Yes, I'm leaving this here for now. I don't know which way I'm going to go with this but, I'm bringing Erica back in. She won't be in there a lot but enough to where Hailey won't be dangling when she doesn't know what's happening. I know what you're wondering, how does Anthony know about Hailey? Well, REVIEW and see if you can guess it; if you can I'll PM you and tell you you're right and what I intend to do with his character. I made Erik a little mean in the beginning but don't worry, I'm a HUGE Erik fan, and I couldn't keep him mean forever. Plus, if I want this to be somewhat believable then I had to make him skeptical, who wouldn't be? He'll be coming around soon enough. Until then,

Phan3145 8D