A/N: Some random comedy filler before the plot starts up again. There are some Love Never Dies spoilers towards the end of this chapter so if you haven't seen it or you don't like spoilers, skip that part.

Chapter Thirty-Five

Erik came down to breakfast one morning about a week after he had arrived, wearing the same suit he had come in. It was getting a little wrinkled from all its use. Alison was setting the table for the family and greeted him with a smile. "Good morning, Erik."

"Good morning, Angelique," he replied, smiling back at her.

She turned to fully look at him and gave him a once-over with her eyes.

"What is it?" he asked, feeling self-conscious.

"Erik, we need to get you some new clothes."

He looked down at himself and nodded. "I acknowledge the truth of that, but I do not know where to get any. All of my clothes are still in France, and I have no way or intention of going there to retrieve them."

"That's not what I was thinking," Alison replied, the beginnings of a grin forming on her face.

"What is your plan, then?" Erik asked, confused.

The grin stretched across her face. "Let's go to the mall."

"The what? I have never heard that word before."

"It's a large building that contains lots of stores," Alison explained. "It's got almost everything people need, so we can go and find you some new clothes that fit a little more with the times."

"What is wrong with suits? People wear suits in this day and age, correct?"

"Yes," Alison acknowledged. "But they don't wear them all the time. Suits are generally for special occasions unless you're working somewhere that you're required to dress formally. You haven't been out much, but when we go, you'll see that most guys don't wear suits all the time. So we'll get you something a little more modern than a suit."

"But I thought I explained this to you. I like my suit." Erik's voice was just on the edge of a whine. "As I said, it shows power and class and strength. It is the clothing of a gentleman. And–"

"It's extremely inconvenient in the summer, if you wear it all the time you'll get stared at, and you can't just stick them in the washing machine. They have to be dry-cleaned and that gets expensive. So we need to find something that gives you power and class and whatever else it was that you wanted that isn't a suit. I'll ask Dad what he thinks. I know absolutely nothing about men's clothes."

Erik huffed. "If it is that difficult to find clothes for me, we should just get a suit."

Alison rolled her eyes. "You are really set on these suits, aren't you?"

Erik was about to reply when Alison's parents came into the room with plates of eggs and bacon for breakfast. Alison went up to Étienne's room and brought him down, and they all had breakfast together. Afterwards, Alison and Michael did the dishes.

"Dad?" Alison asked.

"Yes?"

"What would be good clothing for a man that is formal and good for summer but isn't a suit?"

Alison's dad thought about it for a moment. "Well, I generally wear khakis and a polo if I need to be formal in the summer."

Alison tried to picture Erik in a polo and couldn't. No polos, she decided. Not to mention that Erik would have a fit if we tried to get him in a polo. She shuddered it off and tried to think of another way to phrase the question. "Can you think of clothes for Erik that are somewhat classy but not a suit?"

Michael's expression cleared. "Oh, so you want to find clothes for Erik. You could try black khakis. They do actually make those. Or black jeans and a button-down."

Alison thought about it. "That might work. Just on the edge of formal but not a suit. Okay, thanks."

She ran off to look for Erik. Alison poked her head around the door of his room and laughed. He was sitting on the bed with his suit hugged around him and a disgruntled expression on his face.

"What is it, Erik?" she asked.

"Your mother dislikes my suit too," Erik replied, annoyed.

"Well, we came up with a compromise. How about black jeans and a button-down? It's still reasonably suit-like, but without most of the issues that come with a suit."

Erik thought about it, and sighed. "Fine."

Alison tried to cover her amusement at his childishness, and utterly failed. Erik gave her a black look and folded his arms.

"All right, so now that we've got that settled, let's go to the mall." Alison turned to leave.

"Are there many people at the mall?"

"Yes, of course. It's open for everyone and there are lots of shops."

"Then I am not going," said Erik firmly.

Alison turned around and stared at him. "What?"

"I said that I am not going."

"Why not? We're talking about your clothes here." Alison was confused and getting increasingly annoyed.

"I do not interact well with people."

Alison blinked for a moment in annoyance, trying to process. "But you need clothes," she said slowly, as if to a kid.

"I understand that, but I do not like crowds of people in broad daylight. You and your family accept me enough that I can talk to you without fear, but in crowds I am stared at and ridiculed. Have you forgotten this?" He jabbed a finger at his mask. "I am not accepted or liked. You are special, more special than you know because you stay with me even though you know what is behind the mask. But most people do not. They stare and point and laugh. I am a freak and an oddity in their eyes. I know that it is two hundred years after my time, but there are some things in human nature that do not change."

"That makes sense," Alison admitted. "But then how are we supposed to get you clothes? We need to know what your sizes are. We need to know if you like things."

"If it is an issue of preference, then buy a suit!" Erik shot back.

"Aren't you curious at all about what's out there? You've barely left the house since you got here."

"I am curious, I admit it. But this "mall" sounds crowded and I do not like crowds of people. I am not going."

Alison huffed. "Fine. Be childish and stay in the damn house. But don't complain if you don't like what I buy you because you weren't there to pick it out." She left his room, slamming the door behind her. She ran down the stairs and back into the kitchen. "Dad?"

Michael turned around. "What is it?"

"Can you come with me to buy clothes for Erik? I have absolutely no idea where to begin to look for men's clothes."

"Isn't he coming himself?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because he doesn't like crowds of people. I understand his aversion, but this is just not fair."

"What is his aversion?" Michael asked curiously.

"He had a bad childhood because of his mask and learned to dislike large groups of people because they were usually there to stare and laugh at him. It's kind of a long story and it's his to tell. But the result of it is that I have to go by myself."

"Got yourself a stubborn one." Michael grinned at her.

Alison sighed. "Yeah, I guess you could say that. Will you help me or not?"

"Yes, I'll help you. Let me go up and see if I can estimate what his size would be. I'll be right back."

Michael returned in five minutes and they went to the mall. It took three hours to find something they both thought Erik would deem acceptable. They had to go through ten different stores to find everything. By the end, Alison was extremely pissed off at Erik and couldn't wait to get home and give him a piece of her mind.

As soon as their car pulled up in the driveway, Alison jumped out with the bag and threw a quick "Thank you!" over her shoulder to her father. She pushed open the door and ran up the stairs to her room. She opened the door and stopped dead when she saw Erik sitting at her computer, fully occupied with whatever he was watching.

"Erik, what the hell? What are you doing?"

Erik turned around. He looked angry and shocked at the same time. "See this monstrosity for yourself."

Alison looked over his shoulder and stared at the two women embracing on the stage in the screen in front of them.

"My dear old friend

Can't believe you're here, old friend

After all this time

Christine you came!

You look sublime

You look the same"

"Love Never Dies." Alison said dully. Her anger with Erik melted away, replaced by awkwardness.

Erik looked at her. "You have seen this before?"

Alison shifted uncomfortably. "Well, yes…"

"Who would write anything such as this? It is atrocious! Madame Giry and Meg never helped me after the problems at the opera house. I escaped myself. Christine did marry Raoul, but they were implying that we…" He gestured with his hands, trying to avoid saying it.

"Yes, I'm aware. I've seen it before. And if you keeps watching, it kind of gets worse."

"Worse? How could it possibly be worse?"

Alison bit her lip. "Well…um…Christine's little kid isn't actually Raoul's, he's…yours…"

Erik stared. "What?"

"And the Phantom…or you… or whatever–"

"Not me. Not anything like me. Just call the man the Phantom, it makes things easier."
"Okay, the Phantom, then. As you've already seen, Raoul is an abusive drunk and the Phantom shows up at the bar where he's drinking and makes a bet with him that if Christine sings, he has to leave without her, but if she doesn't, he'll let them go and be together…"

"That is not so bad. Does the fop lose?"

"Yes, he loses, but…um…"

"But what? Does the Phantom in this story get a happy ending?"

"Ah…no. Meg shoots Christine by accident and she dies."

Erik was silent for a moment. Then finally: "What? What? That is absolutely ridiculously absurd! First of all, Meg would never do anything like that in real life. What would be her reason for shooting Christine?"

"She was in love with the Phantom…" Alison muttered, looking down.

Erik stared. "That is even more absurd. What kind of a story is this? Meg is so sweet and kind. She would never do such a thing." He got up and started pacing the room feverishly. "And Christine would never bear my child, ever! You have met her. You saw the way she speaks about me. My very name scares her. How in the world would something such as that ever happen between us? I would never threaten her child to persuade her to do what I want. 'A man as hideous as this is capable of anything'? I do not say that and I am not like that. I am not a fool. One would have to be one to do something as awful as that. And why is hearing her sing so important to this man? Her voice is important to me, I will not deny it, but I would not go to such lengths just to persuade her to sing one song. And as much as I loathe the fop, I do not believe he would turn to drinking and treat Christine so cruelly. All of the people in this…thing act so unlike their actual selves. And so I ask you again, who would write this?"

"Um… it was written by a man named Andrew Lloyd Weber, the guy who wrote the musical Phantom of the Opera. Like I told you, that one talks about what happened with Christine."

"Please, please tell me that is better than this."

"Well, it is very good. And from what you've told me, it's reasonably accurate. So then you could say it's better."

"It had better be. This is absolutely not accurate in any way, shape, or form. It does not even have you in it! You are the most important thing that happened to me in the ten years since Christine left me, and it says nothing about you."

Alison's mouth quirked up in a rueful and grateful smile. "In that universe, I don't exist. I'm just a random person."

"You are not just a random person to me," Erik told her.

The last vestiges of her anger with him vanished. She looked down. "Thanks."

"No matter what this Weber man says or writes, this is not my life. I have you and I have Étienne. Christine has fled from me and she is a thing of the past now. You helped me to move past her. 'Love Never Dies' is a cruel lie on his part and I do not appreciate it." Erik went back to the computer to turn it off, then stopped as he realized something. "You did know it before. You sang a song from it to Étienne. Why did you do that?"

Alison shrugged. "Despite the context of the musical, I like the song and I thought it was nice. And it seemed to get him to go to sleep, so I just decided to do it."

Erik nodded. "I see. But let us not even discuss this thing again. It is too horrible to be mentioned."

"Don't be too mean about it," Alison admonished. "I thought it was pretty good before I met you. If I didn't know that you existed in real life, I still probably would have liked it."

Erik gave her a death glare, then subsided as he thought about it. "I suppose you have a point," he admitted grudgingly. "But that is not my life. Nor will it ever be." They stood in silence for a moment.

"Did you get the clothes?" Erik asked.

Alison smiled. "Yes, I did, and you better like them."

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