Disclamer: No, I do not own Erik. ( i simply borrow him for my own purposes )

AN: Sorry for the long wait. My husband and I have family coming in for the holiday weekend, and we've spent all week getting ready. As always, thank you for going this far with me and please, tell me what you think!

Chapter 6

"Dear Mama,

I have arrived at Paris and I find everything to be just wonderful. Of course, I'm probably taking everything at face value. Aunt Giry and Meg are very friendly and I'll be spending some time observing rehearsals, provided they don't ask me out of the auditorium. We went out to dinner last night and I got to learn a lot more about your sister and my wonderful cousin. Meg is a lot like Elizabeth but I think lacking the forthwith manner that Elizabeth has.

I trust you are doing well. I pray you are so. I say my prayers, just like you taught me and I am told that there is a chapel here so that I can go pray away from everyone. Speaking of prayers, I was in the middle of a prayer while observing the spectacular view from Box 5 when someone cut the ropes of the backdrop! Everyone says it was an accident but I saw the ropes and they were cut. I think Aunt is hiding something because she seems to know a lot more than she is letting on, but I'm learning to trust her as you have…"

I finished reading over my letter, folded it, and sealed it. I had spent well over an hour composing the letter including everything I had seen during my first three days at the Opera House. It was now Saturday and Meg was due any minute. She would come bursting through my door at the drop of the hat and we would be off doing…well, whatever popped into Meg's head. I knew that I had to go post my letter and that I needed some new dresses, or Grandmother would kill me.

I looked at my reflection in the floor length mirror. My blue morning dress was a pleasant contrast with my dark hair and made my eyes actually appear blue. I did not want to avoid any unwanted stares. I adjusted the cuffs of my sleeves when I felt that uncanny feeling that I was being watched. For the past two days, ever since I returned back from the restaurant, I felt as if someone was watching me. I had always believed in some sort of guardian angel, but this felt different. I didn't feel threatened, but I didn't feel protected either. There was just this presence that walked with me and was with me…everywhere.

"ANNE!" Meg bounded through my door just as I suspected and wrapped her arms around my waist. She looked at my reflection in the mirror and gasped. "You look absolutely beautiful!"

Beautiful was never a word used by anyone in reference to me except by Mama. "Well...I don't feel beautiful, but I thank you for the compliment just the same."

"Oh, I wish I had dark hair like yours. People don't seem to take blondes very seriously." Meg fingered her blonde curls that today piled atop her head but left to hang loose down by her shoulders. She looked grown up but that youthful innocence was hard to hide. Meg wore a light green day dress with black trim and it brought out the green in her blue green eyes. Her skin appeared ivory in the candle light but I knew that once we reached the sunlight she would shine beautifully.

I look back at the mirror and smiled at myself. I wasn't jealous of Meg's beauty. I had learned a long time ago that worrying about appearances and what a person looked like mattered very little with what was on the inside.

"Beauty is of little consequence, Anne." Mama's voice sounded in my head like it had so many other times in the past three days. "And besides, a true person's beauty comes from within. One beautiful soul will mean more than a thousand beautiful faces."

When it was apparent that Elizabeth would make a great mark upon the world, I learned, very quickly, to not expect much and had therefore made a great effort to like who I was, knowing that I couldn't ever really change it. Yes, in the beginning it had been a trial. Papa had always thought I would turn out a beauty, and a young daughter always wants to be the pride of her father's eye.

"Anne?" Meg shook my arm gently and brought me instantly out of my reverie. "Are you alright?"

I smiled and looked over at her. "Yes, Meg. I'm quite alright. Shall we get going?"

"Yes! I have so much to show you!"

I just barely managed to catch my breath as Meg grabbed my hand and led me from my room to the sunny streets of Paris. As if we had been friends for years, instead of acquaintances for three days, Meg looped her arm through mine and guided me through the busy streets. It was not yet noon but there was a pleasant warmth in the air and there was a slight breeze. Everyone around us was talking in hurried French and I barely caught any of the conversations going on around me. Gone was the darkness and shadows of Wednesday nights and it was replaced by the sunlight and brightness of Saturday. I had scarcely had time to set foot outside of the Opera House as I spent most of the previous days lost in rehearsal. I managed to sneak in when no one was watching and slip right back out before rehearsal was over. It wasn't that I didn't feel particularly welcome, it was just that I didn't want to be seen or get into any sort of trouble. After all, I was new to the Opera House. Who were they to think that I could be running off and telling some critic or well payer the secrets of rehearsals? I wouldn't put it past them. I had seen things like that happen countless times at the Wetheringtons.

"So, we have to post your letter, first." Meg pulled me along to la poste and my letter was paid for and then placed in a bag that was to be shipped to England where it would, hopefully, make it to my mother in good time. The gentleman was very kind and promised that he would have it off before the end of the day as the service hadn't made its run yet. I thanked him kindly for his services and was a bit surprised at his kindness. I chuckled slightly as I remembered that Mama had told me that the French could be exceptionally haughty.

"I think we should go to La Marguerite." Meg pushed a blonde curl over her shoulder. "They have some of the latest in French fashion and they're quite proficient at getting their customers in and out in record time."

"Have you been there often?" I asked, secretly worrying about the bill that would be incurred. I knew that Grandmother wouldn't mind dropping a pretty franc on keeping me fashionably up to date, but I hated shopping and having a large bill to settle wasn't something I enjoyed, especially when my mother had had so little money for so long.

"I've been there but not for myself. The Vicomte de Chagny took his wife there to buy her wedding trousseau. His wife, who used to be Christine Daae, was a ballet dancer at the Opera House and is still my closest friend." Meg's face lit up talking about this Christine Daae, and I could tell that their friendship ran deep. "I was with her through everything when she lived at the Populaire, and I was herdemoiselle d'honneur at her wedding. Her maid of honor."

"Where is she now?" We turned onto a new street that was filled with adorable little shops.

"She's currently in Italy with her husband, I believe. They have a daughter, Adele." Meg got awfully quiet and bit her lower lip. She looked up at the pink cloth overhang that marked La Marguerite. "To be honest, I haven't really had much contact with her since she got married."

Meg walked in first and I heard the tinkle of the bell. I chose not to continue the conversation about Christine, as it appeared to make Meg uncomfortable. Friends were hard to make, even harder to keep when circumstances changed. That was a fact of every day life.

"Ah! Bonjour, mademoiselles!"

The shop keeper was an older lady, with salt and pepper hair and adorable crows feet around her eyes. She was wearing a pink day dress which made her appear younger but the excessive amount of make up on her face made her appear older than she was. It was an amusing sight and I was glad she mistook my smile for a friendly greeting.

"Good morning, Madame!" Meg stepped forward to accept the lady as an old acquaintance. "I have a friend here who is in need of the latest Parisian fashion!" Meg pushed me forward and I gave a respectful curtsy. However, without really acknowledging my curtsy, I was pulled farther into her shop without further ado and was then lost in a whirlwind of satin, silk, and lace.

The patron, whose name I discovered to be Catherine, was talking in hurried French, taking my measurements and asking me all sorts of questions. Where I was staying, how long I was going to be in Paris, did I have a secret admirer back home…the questions went on and on. I answered all her questions and she was quite interested when I told her I lived at the Opera House.

"Ohhh….I do all of the Vicomtess de Chagny's dresses. Everything she owns comes from this shop." She chuckled. "Well, besides the family jewels and a few specialty gowns the Vicomte bought for her while living in Italy."

I saw Meg's hand still on the bolts of fabric she was caressing.

"I'll need five day dresses, Madame, and three evening gowns. I would like them to have interchangeable ribbons and lace so that I can have many uses with them."

"Oh, and she'll need gloves, shoes, and a few accessories!" Meg smiled mischievously and I knew that she was having a grand time helping me with my clothes. She unfurled a fan and held it over her mouth and batted her eye lashes, making a funny face as she did so.

I laughed so hard I had tears running down my face which sent Catherine into a frenzy as she was measuring my bust at the time. I quickly stifled my laughter but Meg kept casting me very suspicious looks. I watched as she flitted about the store looking at fabrics, shoes, and a few pieces of costume jewelry. Though at many times I thought she was like Elizabeth, I saw a side of her that was very much unlike my sister. I could see a pure look of envy on her face. I was sure that a ballet mistress salary didn't provide much in the way of finery. Meg was quiet as she walked about the store and I thought about ways that I could help her. I didn't have much, but one thing my mother had taught me was how to make a lot out of a little.

After my measurements, we talked over the fabrics and the general design. I believe that I shocked the elderly lady because I wanted dresses that had a bit more of a modest neckline and that did not have a lot of extra frills. We haggled a bit over price but in the end everyone was satisfied. I looked over the accessories that Meg pressed into my hands but told her that I Had very little need of anything extra, which surprised her. I could tell it was going to take her a little while to understand that not all ladies of society wanted all the frills that life could bring. We decided on a close date for my clothes to be ready and Meg and I finished our business at La Marguerite.

"We must go to this adorable café by the Opera House!" Meg had looped her arm through mine and we set off back towards the Populaire. "Their food is so good and it will provide us with a quiet place to talk."

My ears perked up and I looked over at her, the sun playing nicely off her blonde curls. "What do you need to talk about?"

"The Opera Ghost," she whispered

'Oh, Meg!" I was exasperated. "There's no such things as ghosts!"

"Anne, if you're going to stay at the Populaire, then you have to know what's happened there. Granted, I don't know what happened before or how the Phantom arrived, but I can tell you what happened over the past few years."

"And why…"

"It's important!" Meg earnestly said. "You must know if you're going to stay. That way you have been warned!"

I watched Meg keep looking over her shoulder as we walked towards the café. I could see that she was serious about this phantome however much I would try to dissuade her. As we entered the quaint building, the bell tinkled, and we were escorted to a quiet corner. We spent a few minutes in silence as we perused a menu and after we both ordered, and our food brought to us, Meg launched into her tale.