Chapter Eleven

Patrick had much more trouble settling in than Alison had because he was slow to learn the language and so had trouble communicating with others in the opera house. His coworkers didn't like him all that much at first because of his pretended heritage, but eventually they came to accept him and they even developed a degree of friendship. Since both he and Alison were very busy, they didn't get to see each other very much, but he managed to get hold of her on her day off as she was going to see Erik. He caught her arm as she was about to open the secret door that led down to the lair by the lake.

"Come on," he whispered. "Let's go to the roof where we can be alone."

The implications of his word choice were not lost on Alison, and she hesitated. "I have to go meet with someone," she said, unsure.

"Please," Patrick crooned persuasively. "It'll be just us two and I haven't really talked to you in so long."

Alison sighed. She knew she owed it to Patrick because he was her boyfriend. With one last glance at the entrance to the tunnels, she followed him without protest.

They made their way up to the top of the opera house, opened the door that led out, and stepped onto the rooftop. A large statue of Apollo holding his lyre in the air dominated the roof. They slipped around it and looked out onto the stunning eagle-eye view of the city of Paris. It was a beautiful summer day and the air felt fresh and clean. The sun gave everything in sight a bright glow. Everything, that is, except the area behind the statue, where a cloaked, dark figure stood watching. As soon as the door swung shut behind them, Patrick took Alison into his arms.

"It's been quite a while since we did this," he whispered. "I've missed you, darling."

There wasn't really any way she could respond to that. She hadn't missed him all that much while she had been here. Lately, she had begun to realize that her attraction to Patrick had been simply that, an attraction. It was not love. But now, she was pretty sure that she knew what love truly was because she felt it for Erik. He filled her mind and even his slightest accidental touch sent light all throughout her body. Fortunately, she didn't have to say anything to contradict Patrick as he pressed his lips to hers.

The figure behind the statue felt a sense of emptiness shoot through him. He felt as though he had lost something that he didn't know he had. Even though the sight hurt him in ways he couldn't understand, he continued to watch the couple on the roof.

Alison tolerated Patrick's kiss for as long as she could, but eventually she couldn't stand it anymore. She broke away from the kiss and turned her back to him, trying not to see his look of hurt surprise.

"Patrick, I'm sorry, I –"

"What do you mean, 'you're sorry'? What's going on?"

"I'm just not feeling anything with you anymore. It was nice to be with you before, but I've grown up, Patrick. I've changed." She stopped.

"Wait. You're breaking up with me?" he asked in total, utter disbelief.

She sighed. "Yes."

"But… but why?"

Her eyes were troubled. She turned around and looked at him. "I just… don't feel for you what I did when we first started going out. I've spent a year here and I've changed so much. I'm a different person from the girl you asked out. I've moved on. I'm sorry."

He couldn't think of anything to say. He just stared at her, unable to comprehend what she was saying.

"I'm not going to ask if we could still be friends. That would be too much . But if we could at least see each other as friends from time to time I would consider myself lucky. We still have to keep up the cousin façade, but if you want I'll stay away from you as much as possible. I'm sorry. I never wanted to hurt you and I think that staying with you now would just cause you more pain. I hope you can forgive me."

Silence.

There was too much to say, but nothing else she could say.

"Goodbye, Patrick." She turned and left the roof, leaving him stunned and hurting behind her. The shadow that watched from the statue was left confused. He had always considered the English language a harsh and unlovely one, but now it reached his ear in the beauty of light even though he didn't understand a word. A spark of hope stirred that seemed to come from the sight before him. Why would he feel such hope from watching Angelique walk away from the young man she had introduced as her friend? Why had it hurt so much when they had kissed? Troubled, he buried those thoughts deep in his mind to think about another day. And with a swirl of his cloak, he was gone, as if he had never been there.

Patrick stared after Alison. Gradually, his mind came to accept what she had just done, but the pain was unbearable. Why? Why had she suddenly broken up with him after coming here? His mind came to one conclusion: she was seeing somebody else. The thought filled him with rage that grew steadily stronger as he stood looking at the closed door. I will find who it is, he promised himself. And I will make him pay for stealing my girlfriend. A phrase came to mind that seemed oddly appropriate for the situation.

"Now let there be war upon you both!" he whispered. He stalked off, away from the rooftop, back into the bowels of the opera house.

Alison, running down the stairs, was trying to hold back tears. Not at breaking up with Patrick, but at hurting him. Their earlier relationship was enough that she still cared for him; she simply didn't love him anymore. But if she was able to push aside his pain from her mind, she felt lightness and freedom inside her soul. Now she was free to do whatever she wanted romantically. And "whatever she wanted," meant Erik. She had tried to deny to herself that what she felt for him was more than close friendship and compassion. After he had almost kissed her, however, she had been unable to push away her attraction for him. When she had visited him the next day, he had treated her the same as always, but with a little more respect. There was no hint that he liked her in any more than a friendly way, and it sent a crack through her heart. There has been too many people I have hoped could be with me, but none has ever really cared, she reflected bitterly. How can I be sure that I can even get him to love me? He's probably still in love with Christine, even though she will probably never love him back. She shook herself. Don't think like that, she scolded. Now that I have no obligations to Patrick, I can actually try to get Erik to love me. A smile broke across her lips at the thought. She skipped to the ballet dormitory, humming.

No one noticed the change in Alison and Patrick's relationship. They hid it far too well for that. But sometimes, when she wasn't paying attention, she caught his longing look and knew that he was not over her. She felt terrible, but there was nothing she could do to make him feel better short of being his girlfriend again, and she had no intention of doing that.

One day, as rehearsals were ending, Christine approached Alison.

"Excuse me, I did not quite catch your name."

Alison looked around in surprise. Why was Christine coming to talk to her now, three weeks after she had arrived? "My name is Angelique."

Christine nodded. "Angelique," she repeated. "A lovely name."

They stood in silence for a moment.

"Is there something you want with me, Chr- Madame de Chagny?"

Christine hesitated. "Yes, actually. I have been thinking a lot about what you said to me when I came."

Alison put up a hand. "We probably shouldn't talk about something like that here. There are too many ears to hear things they shouldn't."

"Of course. Would you come with me, Angelique?" From the way Christine said it, it was clear that this was not an option. Christine turned and walked away, beckoning Alison to follow her. Alison ran to catch up.

She followed Christine, not noticing where they were going, and was surprised when Christine stopped outside the door to the prima donna's dressing room. She opened the door and slipped inside. Alison hesitated at the threshold.

"If you were looking for somewhere that he can't hear us, maybe we might want to go somewhere else."

Christine's face paled, and her breath became faster. Her eyes darted about the room in the same way that they had when she first arrived. With a visible effort, she managed to calm herself.

"I learned long ago that there is nowhere in this place where he cannot hear us. There is no point in attempting to find somewhere. My only goal was to get us away from other people."

Alison knew that Christine's point was valid, especially considering what had happened with Christine and Raoul's tryst on the rooftop. She stepped into the dressing room and shut the door behind her. Christine gestured to a chair and sat down herself. Alison hesitantly slid into the chair and waited for Christine to speak.

There was a long silence as Christine's eyes searched Alison's. Then she began to speak, all in a rush.

"I know that my presence may hurt him, I just felt that I had to come to show him that I am not afraid. He scares me so, Angelique! I am afraid of what he might do, what he might say. But I cannot allow him to control my mind. I cannot let him invade my nightmares any longer. I have come back so that he will release his hold on me and then I can be free of him."

Alison sat and stared for a moment. "Madame de Chagny–"

"Christine, please."

Alison tried again. "Christine, I don't think there's anything you need to be afraid of. It's not like he's going to hurt you. If he wanted to, he would have done so by now. And besides–"

Christine wailed and buried her face in her hands. "I know! I know. But I am afraid of the power of his voice. It can make me do things… can make me think things that I do not want to think or do. I need your help."

Alison frowned. "What would I do to help?"

"I need you to keep me sane in the face of his attacks."

"Attacks? Christine, I don't–"

Christine cut her off. "I need you to remind me of what I think and feel periodically. Remind me that I love Raoul and the kind of life that will be waiting for me. Remind me that my thoughts are my own. Help me retain my will!"

Alison hesitated. "Christine, I really –"

Christine looked at her desperately. "Please! I need someone to do this who understands. You seem to know something about him, enough that you approached me about it. He is everywhere, taking over my soul. If you do not help me, I do not know what I will do!" Her eyes pleaded, reaching into the deepest recesses of Alison's heart. Alison fought their pull for a moment, then sighed.

"Fine. I'll protect you from the big, bad, scary ghost."

A brilliant smile split Christine's face. Clearly, she doesn't understand sarcasm, Alison thought. Christine grabbed Alison's hand. "Thank you, thank you, thank you! You do not know how much this means. All I need you to do is talk to me sometimes, be the person I can go to when something happens with him."

Alison nodded reluctantly. She didn't like this agreement at all. What if the things she tells me hurt him? I can't just sit there and let her talk about him like this. And I'm never going to be able to convince her that he's not actually going to randomly pop up and kidnap her. She has broken his heart far too much for that. He wouldn't dare approach her now. She's just being a little bit of a ditz, but it's not like that's anything new.

I'm getting the feeling that I'm going to regret agreeing to this.