HA/N: This has been a rather difficult chapter for me to write. The scenes had been planned a long ago and some paragraphs had been prewritten but in the final cut, I reworded like 99% of it. Enjoy and leave a review!

Disclaimer: Based on the novel by Gaston Leroux. All Phantom related works, as well as lyrics quoted in the story, belong to their respective owners.

Chapter 18 - Of monsters and men

Christine was growing worried that Meg might have been right about Erik after all. In the beginning, he used to speak to her almost every time she came to the Opera but as time moved on their encounters became less and less frequent until they stopped altogether. Risking Madame's anger, she often lingered longer in her dressing room in hopes he would come but he never did.

"Told ya it was a prank," Meg reminded her yet again when she addressed the topic with her. "The Phantom doesn't really exist and you're not really Christine Daaé."

Christine shook her head in denial. She couldn't accept the fact she'd been living in a fantasy. One last chance, she decided. She'd take one last chance at getting in touch with Erik. If she failed, this time she'd let it go once and for all.

She couldn't wait until the ballet class next week - it would've been pointless as she never had much time either before or after training - so she lied to her mother about going out with some friends and went to the Opera instead.

There was a performance scheduled for the evening and the House was in such a havoc that no one even noticed her sneaking in through the staff entrance in the back. Making her way into the ballet dressing room, she closed the door and called, "Erik? Can you hear me? Please come to me, Phantom!"

There was no reply.

She sank to the ground. Voice strained with tears, she sang, "Ange de la musique, guide et gardien, Accorde-moi ta gloire, Ange de la musique, découvre-toi, Étrange et pur esprit."

The door behind her creaked and she turned around full with hope but there was only a boy in evening wear, peeking in.

"Was that you singing?" he asked.

"Um, yes, that was me," she replied timidly. "Who are you and what are you doing here?"

"I came to see the performance. My father insists that people of our status should be acquainted with the fine arts. My name's Raoul, by the way. And you are?"

"Christine. I'm a ballerina."

"You should be a singer. You have the voice of an angel."

Christine blushed slightly. There was just something about this boy that made her feel butterflies in her belly. He was so cute, with hazel eyes and dark blonde hair, and his name was Raoul just like Raoul de Chagny. Coincidence? Likely not!

"You shouldn't be here," she said nervously. "Come," she took him by the hand, "I'll take you back up front."

Escorting Raoul back to the Grand Escalier, she returned to the backstage, unsure what to do next. A part of her wanted to look for the phantom once more, but her mind kept on returning to the handsome young boy she'd just met. Crossing the halls with her mind in the clouds she didn't even notice when she accidentally came by none other than Erik himself.

"Christine?" he mumbled surprised. "What are you doing here so late?" She never came to the Opera unless for her ballet class, which was long over.

Snapping back into reality, Christine stared at the man in front of her. It was the same man from the pictures on the web, the one the management presumably hired to go around in a mask and attract public attention, but his voice… it was the same velvety voice that used to speak to her in her dressing room!

"So it was you after all!"

Erik made big eyes at her. "What do you mean it was me?"

"It was just you talking to me in my dressing room and I thought it was the freaking Phantom of the Opera!"

"Christine, I am the Phantom of the Opera."

He was? He didn't even look the part! He was just so… normal! Why was he wearing jeans and a hoodie? Where was the suit? Where was the cape, the gloves, the hat? Why was his mask a full mask and not a half one?

"You look disappointed," Erik noted.

"I imagined you differently," Christine explained.

He seemed too tall, too skinny, with lips too thin and weird-colored shimmery eyes, but all things considered, he wasn't so bad.

"Why did you suddenly stop talking to me?" she asked, her tone accusing.

Erik dropped his eyes in embarrassment. Truth was, the more he engaged himself with Carlotta, the less he cared about Christine, and the moment he realized he was in love with the little toad he gave up on her altogether. There just seemed to be no point in messing up with her life more than he already had.

He knelt down to level up with her and murmured, "I'm sorry my angel. I just thought it better to let you be."

"How do you mean that?" she huffed. "You're the phantom and I'm Christine. We're meant for each other!"

Damnit! How was he going to explain this to her without hurting her feelings?

"It could have never worked out between us," he said cautiously. "It certainly didn't the first time around."

"The past is in the past. Things are different now. I'm different."

He laughed under his breath. "No, you're not. You're the same sweet naive girl you've always been."

"I love you!"

Back then he would've given anything to hear her say those words and now… now he didn't even believe them.

"You don't love me. You don't even know me. You only love a concept that I represent."

Whether it was an angel of a mysterious phantom, it didn't matter. The point was, Christine, the past as well as the present, never loved him, Erik, the simple man behind the mask.

"I do love you! I'll marry you if you ask me!"

Okay, now she was beginning to sound like one of the phangirls, the crazy kind.

"Oh, Christine," he sighed, "you deserve better than me. You deserve a man who is young and handsome. A man who could offer you a home, family, children. That man exists out there somewhere, I know that for sure, and one day you'll meet him if you haven't already."

For a moment, Christine's mind flashed back to the boy she'd met earlier, a boy named Raoul, but she pushed the thought away. Her destiny was to be with Erik, it had always been, and that had to be the reason why they met again in this new life: to set things right.

"I don't want any other man!" she said stubbornly. "I want you!" And just to prove her point she grabbed at his neck and pressed her lips hard into his.

Erik froze. It didn't surprise her but when seconds passed and he didn't respond, she reluctantly let go.

"What the hell is going on here?!"

Erik looked past Christine and saw Carlotta standing at the end of the hallway. She had to be coming back from Jerome's because she was in full stage make-up and wig.

"This isn't what it looks like," Erik said, getting back on his feet and coming out towards her.

Carlotta didn't listen. "What do you think you're doing smooching that kid?!" she shouted. She never cared much about the games Erik played with the phans but it looked like it had taken of a whole new and dangerous route. "Do you want to go to jail for sexual harassment of a minor?!"

"Hey, I'm almost seventeen!" Christine cut in.

"Shut up you little dweeb!"

"You shut up! Who the hell are you even?!"

"Christine," Erik said, "this is Carlotta, she's my g-"

"Christine?!"

Carlotta facepalmed herself in her mind. She should've imagined there was Christine Daaé's doppelganger running around the opera as well. It was only logical. She had to be the reason why Erik returned to life in the first place!

"Carlotta?!" the younger girl exclaimed in bewilderment. "As in La Carlotta?!"

Well, other than herself, there also existed Meg and now Raoul so why not La Carlotta! Only, who gave her the right to order Erik around?

"Listen, you old, fat, screeching toad," she hissed. "Leave Erik alone. He's my Angel of Music, not yours."

"Christine, we already talked about t-"

"Your Angel of Music!" Carlotta countered, snapping out of control. "How sweet! Now I bet you think he lives in some candle-lit palace, rides gondolas and underneath his mask, he only suffers from a little sunburn!" she jeered.

"Stop this now, both of y-"

"I know he's disfigured but that's fine. I love him anyways!"

"Oh really?!"

It happened in a matter of seconds. Carlotta's hand shot up and yanked at Erik mask. The rubber band holding it in place snapped and he felt the cold surface disconnect from his skin. Immediately, he buried his face in his hands but it was too late.

Christine's blue eyes widened and she let out a terrified scream. She'd expected Erik to be flawed but not like this! He wasn't just ugly! He was horrific!

"What have you done?!" Erik growled at Carlotta, seizing her by the shirt.

"Let go of me!" she yelled, shoving him off.

Alarmed by Christine's cry, some people ran onto the scene. Among them, there was also Daroga.

"What is this about?" he asked, assessing the situation. "You there," he addressed Christine curled up in a corner, "what are you doing here?"

"N-nothing," she squealed, running off.

Erik scanned the small crowd of voyeurs that had gathered around them, painfully aware that they could all see his face in its full macabre glory. It felt as if time had somehow bent and he was a teenage boy again displayed on stage as the Living Corpse.

He turned to Carlotta. She was the only one that could save him now. "Please…" he whispered, extending a trembling hand towards her but she slapped it away.

"Don't touch me," she spat. "You disgust me!"

Throwing Erik his mask back, she walked past Daroga and the others. Reaching her new dressing room, she shut the door and sank to the floor. Tears welled up in her eyes but she blinked them away. She couldn't risk ruining her make-up when she was going on stage in a matter of minutes.

Getting hold of herself she crawled to her vanity and begun searching the drawers. This used to be La Debonnaire's dressing room and it was no secret that the former diva, being highly emotional, was a fond user of opiates. There was a good chance she'd left something behind. Eventually, Carlotta found a small bottle of tranquilizer. There were only two pills left inside and she took both.

Marie came in to help her fit into costume and Jerome fixed her hair some more and then she was sent on stage.

Act one, act two, act three… She went through the motions as in a trance. All she could think of was Erik.

He had only ever loved Christine. She'd been such a fool to think that could change. That he could love her. Her!

By the time of the famous madness scene, she wasn't even acting anymore. She felt literally mad with grief and she sang it all out from the bottom of her broken heart.

"Il dolce suono… Mi colpì di sua voce... Ah! quella voce… M'è qui nel cor discesa…"

She would never forget that night when she had first heard Erik sing. He'd surprised her intoning Webber's musical and she couldn't help but join him, singing songs that were originally Christine's. Already then, she'd been trying to take her place, a place that, she now knew, could never be hers.

"Edgardo! Io ti son resa… Fuggita io son da' tuoi nemici... "

Day by day, Erik slowly seduced her and she had succumbed to him willingly and completely. She had given herself to him, body and soul, and he had only used her. On what purpose, she wasn't quite sure. Perhaps it had something to do with that bet he had with Daroga, or perhaps he just needed a past time while he waited for Christine to make up her mind.

"Un gelo… Mi serpeggia nel sen... Trema ogni fibra….. Vacilla il piè!"

She trembled, devastated by a pain like she had never felt before because, she only now realized, she had never truly loved before. Not like this. The silly teenage crushes, her infatuation with Antonio, and a couple more boys before him didn't compare to what she felt for Erik: a deep connection that went beyond simple physical attraction. He completed her, patching up the cracks in her souls, and now that she had lost him, she felt herself break apart.

"Presso la fonte, meco T'assidi alquanto... Ahimé!"

She finished the aria and glanced one last time towards box five before collapsing on stage. Lucia was dying and so was she.

Simon, who played Enrico, ordered for Lucia to be taken away and two cameos appeared to carry Carlotta off stage. Lifting her up, they realized she wasn't faking, she'd really fainted, and as soon as they were out of view they called for help. Someone brought some minty toothpaste and stuck in under Carlotta's nose making her come back to her senses.

"There you go girl," Marie said, helping her to her feet. "How are you feeling?"

"Just a little weak."

It had to be the fault of those drugs she'd taken earlier.

"You nailed it though! Now come, have some rest."

The seamstress led her to her dressing room and helped her out of the costume and into a robe. Then, making sure she was okay and needed nothing else, she left.

When Marie was gone, Carlotta finally abandoned herself to despair. She needn't worry Erik would see her tears as none of the mirrors present in the room was build into a wall, so she let herself weep uncontrollably for what felt like hours.

When she began to hear voices and the shuffling of feet behind the door she understood the performance was over. A usual, there was going to be a small reception in the Grand Foyer and this time she was absolutely expected to attend. She was the leading lady tonight and it was part of the job to meet with some of the most important spectators and benefactors of the Opera House after the show. In the world of dramatic arts talent was indispensable but social skills were of an almost equal importance.

Wiping the tears away she sat at her vanity and taking her wig off, she began removing what still remained of her heavy stage make-up. Underneath, her face appeared red and swollen from crying but some soothing chamomile tonic combined with foundation, concealer, liner and a heavy coat of black mascara did the trick. If someone looked closely they could still tell she'd been crying but all in all, she looked presentable.

She was just about to get into her evening dress when there was a knock on the door. She expected to see Marie or Jerome or just about anyone from the costume department but it was actually Thibault.

"I'm very sorry Monsieur," she said, thinking he came to scold her for being late to the party, "I'll be coming right away."

"There's no rush, ma cherie," he assured forcing himself into the room. "You enchanted them all tonight. I'm sure they'll gladly wait for you another moment."

"I have to change," she noted, hoping Thibault would take the hint and leave.

Instead, the Manager closed the door behind him and turned the key in the lock. "Don't you think," he muttered, coming towards her, "we should take some time to celebrate our great success tonight."

Carlotta retracted further into the room. "We'll soon celebrate that in the foyer," she replied as calmly as possible.

Thibault's eyes squinted and he leaped towards her. "I'm tired of your games, you little cunt," he barked, pushing her against the wall. "I made you a prima donna! It's time you show me some gratitude!"

"You only did that because Erik made you!" she countered.

The manager laughed. "Oh, he certainly tried but I couldn't care less about his opinion! You were only allowed to sing tonight because I thought I'd give you some credit! Don't make me regret that decision!"

Without warning, he smashed his lips against hers. Shutting her mouth tight, she tried to push him away but he was stronger.

"What's wrong?" he asked when she kept on struggling. "You had no problem opening up your legs for that monster!"

"You're the only monster here!" she spat.

Thibault's watery eyes squinted in fury and he slammed her hard across the face.

Carlotta fell to the floor, holding at her burning cheek. A hand yanked at her hair, pulling her up, and she cried in pain.

"Cry as much as you like! No one's going to hear you back here anyway!"

Thibault pushed her onto the sofa and pinned her down with the giant mass of his body. Holding her firmly in place, he spread her legs apart and stroked her forcefully.

"Erik!" Carlotta called in desperation, trying to wriggle herself out of Thibault's grip. "Erik!"

The manager put a hand over her mouth. His palms were warms and sweaty and she felt a wave of nausea wash over her. She tried to free herself once more but came out losing miserably. With everything that had happened earlier, she was drained and Thibault was a strong adult man. She was out of chance.

She heard the metallic click of a buckle being opened and then felt her panties being yanked off. She screamed but the sound came out muffled and week. Thibault's large palm covering her mouth and nose successfully cut off her air supply. Black spots danced in front of her eyes as she began to lose consciousness again. The last thing her brain registered was a noise at the door. Then everything went dark.

Just 2 more chapters left!

We're getting close to the big finale. Will Carlotta get rescued? Will she clear up with Erik? Will she be able to withstand his not so classically handsome face now that she knows it? What happens with Christine? Is she really the reason for Erik coming back alive? Or is she not?

Stay tuned!

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