Disclaimer: I do not own Erik, or Meg, or Madame Giry, or any other characters from the ingenious mind of Gaston Leroux! Anne just currently resides in my head until she's done telling her story. She's getting alone quite well with all of the other voices that reside up there. :)

AN: I needed something new...so I created a villain ( well someone to help push along the discovery of Anne's dark years ). I hope that you all have had a happy Thanksgiving ( if you celebrated it ) and if you don't...well, I hope you had a happy November 22nd. :-) Thanks to all the reviews and comments. They really mean a lot to me and I can honestly say I'm thankful to any and all who read and who review and who favorite and who follow. I don't think I'd have made it this far without you all!

Chapter 31

"Did you have a pleasant visit with Christine?"

Meg's bitter question was raised the minute I opened the door and crossed the threshold. "It wasn't much of a visit. It was more like planning a ball to which you will be invited."

"I don't need a social occasion! I need my best friend back!"

I turned around just in time to see her stomping her foot like a little child who was refused their favorite toy. "Can't you just accept the olive branch for what it is? She feels just as bad as you do about the lapse of correspondence."

"It doesn't help matters any."

"You also have to realize that you two are in completely different social spheres now. There are rules she has to follow and guidelines she must adhere to."

Meg gave a very unladylike snort. "She shouldn't have gotten married then."

"Would you deny anyone the right to marry whom they love, then? It seems rather unfair."

"Well, if I were in her shoes…"

"You don't know her circumstances, so don't even finish that sentence." I took off my day dress and put on an old work dress. It was one I wore often when I went to see Erik and it looked awful covered in soot and dirt that refused to come off. But, it was comfortable and I was going to go pay a visit to the chapel today. I hadn't spent any time in prayer recently, and I could feel the emptiness. A thought briefly crossed my mind that Erik would probably come by and see me, but then I brushed it aside. I was still very cross with him and I didn't want to see him at all.

"Where are you going now?" Meg asked, her voice clearly letting me know how upset she still was.

"I'm going to the chapel to pray. I have a lot on my mind."

"I know where you really go, Anne, when you think no one is looking."

I was brushing out my hair and my hand stopped in mid-stroke. "What do you mean?" I slowly continued to brush out my hair, seeming to be very absorbed in it.

"I mean, that you go down to his lair as often as you possibly can. I know you do. It explains why your clothes are so dirty and why your playing has gotten so much better. He's teaching you, isn't he?"

"Meg…you can't say anything to anyone."

"Eventually everyone will know, but it won't be by my doing. I only know because I see you so often. When you're out in the auditorium, you take great care to remain unseen but your eyes are always drifting to Box 5. Anne, he's dangerous."

"No, he's not. He's just lonely. We just keep each other company."

"Anne, he's killed people!"

"None of us are without sin." I tied back my hair with a ribbon and left the room. I quickly made my way to the chapel, wondering if maybe Meg was going to follow me and continue her tirade. I couldn't risk anyone overhearing us, I didn't want anyone to know the truth about me going to see Erik, whatever feeling I felt towards him at the moment.

The chapel was silent and there were a few candles lit, signs that someone had been here before me. Light dimly shined in through the stained glass window, and fell in a ray to the floor just in front of the prayer candles. I lit Mama's candle and silently said my prayers. But, for some reason, I couldn't keep my mind on the prayers I offered up. Instead, my mind went back to my last meeting with Erik…to when we danced together in the music room. I could still feel the pressure of his hand on my back and the warmth of his hand as he clasped mine. That moment when we stumbled and he caught me was the ever present memory in my mind. He was so close at that moment and the look he had still gave me chills. His face was so close and I thought he was going to kiss me.

My eyes flew open and I put a hand over my lips. Yes. That was the look he gave me…that was what he was going to do, and I instinctively broke the moment because I knew, for some reason, that it couldn't happen. Our relationship had to stay professional, and we were friends…nothing more. We couldn't be anything more, but the question that rang in my head was why?

"Anne."

It was whispered softly and I felt the chills run down my spine. How he said my name, was how Papa used to say Mama's name. It was like an endearment, a word that claimed her as his. I couldn't allow myself to get closes to him. There was something, nipping at the back of my mind that prevented me from getting close. I would not be allowed to get close to him. My mind wouldn't allow it. But…my heart said another thing.

"Anne? What is it?"

I stood up, my arms wrapped around myself. "Nothing. I'm alright. I'm just…I've had a busy day today." Slowly, the defenses went back up. It was almost like I could see the wall build up around my mind. "I went to go see the Vicomtesse de Chagny today."

He stepped into the light and I took a hesitant step back. "Why would you do that? You've already said you don't like her."

I smiled and brushed a wayward curl back behind my ear. "Well, I didn't like you at first, if you remember correctly. Everyone deserves a second chance, and I'm giving Christine hers. I'm helping her organize a ball, to announce her return to Paris after so long a time."

"You know how to organize those things?"

"My grandmother hosted enough in order to get me married that I know how to plan one very well."

"I suppose you'll go, then."

"If Christine wants me there, then yes, I'll go."

"Won't your sister be there?"

"No. Her wedding is very soon so I suspect she's back in England making the final arrangements."

"And…you won't go?"

"I've not been invited. And in any case, I wouldn't go. I'm not her sister anymore. She's made that very clear."

I moved to the window ledge and sat down.

"Anne…about the other day. I'm sorry to make you think that I wanted to hear your story just so that I could get you to sing for me. It wasn't my intention."

I sighed and leaned my head back. "I know. I mean, in my heart I know that you wouldn't do that to me. But my mind is an entirely different matter. I don't like to be used."

"I never…" He walked towards me and knelt down next to me.

I drew my legs up underneath me and rested my chin between my knees. "I know."

"Would you like to come down today? There's something we need to talk about."

"What do we need to talk about?" He took my hands in his and I looked into his eyes. They seemed conflicted with pain and yet I found something in his eyes that I could not quiet put a name to.

"You trusted me, Anne. It's time that I show you the same courtesy."

"You don't have to tell me anything just because I told you part of my story."

"Well, then I'll leave you with just as much a cliffhanger of my own story that you did with yours."

I laughed. I was sure that I was in for some sort of definite surprise. But then, I also worried about what his story would unfold for me. What would he tell me that I hadn't already heard through Meg? Was I sure that I wanted to know any or all of his despair?

"Sure. I'd love to."

Michel Faucher was not a man to be refused. He got whatever he wanted from whoever he wanted whenever he wanted it. Every girl in the ballet corp and the chorus knew that, and knew it well. There was only one girl who had dared refuse him, and he'd allowed her to get away with it for months, hoping that his small attempts at pursuit would make it worth his while in the end. However, Anastasia Hillcrest was not a woman who was meant to be pursued. He had watched her closely for months now, only making his presence known when it was in his best interest. The only problem was that she was a difficult girl to follow. She moved in and out of corridors better than he did, and he knew the Opera House well. She would go down a hallway and when he reached that hallway's entrance, she would be gone, as if she disappeared into thin air. He wondered if she knew that he was following her, but he kept his footfalls silent and his breathing soft.

Today, he followed her to the chapel. She hadn't frequented there in weeks. Today, was no different than any other time when he followed her, only today her steps were fast and it was almost as if she were running from her room in order to escape something or someone. She moved through the back of the Populaire with ease until she reached the chapel. And then, something strange happened. The door shut softly behind her, and he could not get it to budge open. He smiled, mischievously and leaned back against the wall, more than happy to bide his time.

What he was not prepared for, however, was the voices that came from the other side of the door. He heard two voices in there. Anne's and then another's; a male voice. He hadn't heard it before but he was curious as to how he got in there with her, unless…he had already been there. This changed everything! If she was having secret rendezvous with some man… This could work quite well in his favor. He leaned his ear close to the door to try and overhear what they were saying. Either they were speaking very softly, had moved to the other side of the room, or would too involved in other things to worry about talking. He rubbed his hands together, his plan already forming in his mind.

He waited patiently until the door opened, and then he would catch the two together and then, Anne would do exactly as he said. And he had lots of things planned for her. Blackmail was not always the easiest of ways to get what he wanted, but it worked just as well. And the satisfaction was all his anyway. He never worried about pleasing whoever he was with, as long as he got what he wanted.

He waited…and waited…and waited. His anticipation grew for the moment when he would see the expression of surprise and fear flash across her face when she was discovered in the arms of this mysterious stranger. How he would make her pay. She would pay for having pushed him aside on their first meeting and then every other time the had met afterwards. She was too high and mighty in her ways and she would see reason. He would make her see.

Finally, the door slowly opened and he burst into the chapel. Ready to expose Anne for what she really was when he stopped and took a look around the room. Surprise was his first emotion when he realized that he was the only person in the room. Anne, and whoever she was meeting, were gone! Then, he was confused. There was no way anyone could have left the room without his knowing of it! That door was the only way out. As he searched the room over, anger finally took over. To be thwarted again by the mischievous little harlot was not something he had anticipated. He checked the room over and over and over again. There were no levers to open secret passageways, no loose stones to find passionate love notes.

In a fit of vicious rate he picked up the candelabra and threw it against the opposite wall. As he made his way out of the chapel he muttered curses under his breath. One day soon he would catch her. He would find her and her lover and then everything would go according to plan.

AN: Not my best work, I grant you. But I'm not much into the villain writing. I'm sure many of you have already been able to piece together the puzzle as to what Anne's life was like. Don't give anything away! :-)