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: Anne is stalling... ~grumble grumble mumble mumble~

Chapter 33

I had a note waiting for me from Christine by the time I reached my room. I scanned it quickly, somewhat pleased to hear that the Vicomte liked the idea of his wife hosting a ball. After that, I threw myself onto the bed and closed my eyes, my entire body overcome with fatigue. I replayed Erik's story in my mind, over and over until I could remember every single detail. I had watched his face the entire time, and it pained me all the more. Almost all emotion was gone as he told about the time before he was captured by the Gypsies. He was detached from everything, and then ever so slowly, little by little, he became more passionate about his story. And then, when he spoke about Christine, I felt as if my own heart would break as he was denied the one thing he desperately needed and that was to be loved. He was bitter towards the Vicomte as he obviously blamed him for taking his beloved Christine away, but I also felt some sort of anger towards her. It however was quickly calmed as she had made her decision and had to live with it. She still appeared fearful of Erik, I could tell that much from spending time with her. But it was misplaced. If she still feared him, then it was obvious that she hadn't truly known him…or loved him, as Erik so desperately wished she had.

I rolled over to lie on my back and breathed a deep sigh. It was so much to absorb and I couldn't get his words out of my head. The life he had, it was something that I had never dreamed he would had lived. It also made me all he more curious to know what was underneath his mask. I had tried to not push the subject, only when he had backed me into a corner, but seeing all of his face, it was a curiosity that I could not always push aside. But it had to be his doing, and it would probably happen after I told him what had happened during those four years before we lived with Grandmama. It was the source of the nightmares, and it was why I couldn't sing anymore. I knew there was something about those years that was terrible and traumatic for me, but I couldn't remember, and I hated that feeling. I felt as if something was being kept from me, like when my mother kept secrets from me, just because she thought I wasn't strong enough to handle it. I wasn't a child anymore, and I had to recover the missing pieces of the puzzle.

I quickly sat up and threw my legs over the side of the bed. Realization hit me, and I knew what I'd have to do in order to remember. I could go over bits and pieces together as often as I wanted, but it wasn't going to get me anywhere. I had to do the one thing that brought on the chills down my spine, and the fear that would strike me numb.

"I'm going to have to sing again," I whispered to the empty room.

"Thank you for coming so quickly after you received my note, Mlle Hillcrest."

"I had to come as soon as I heard. It can get quite stuffy in the Opera House, Vicomtesse." Once again, I was sitting in the parlor of the de Chagny estate, having tea with Christine. "But, I think since we've gotten to know each other a little better, I would feel better if you called me Anne."

"Then you must call me Christine. Does this mean we're friends, now?'

I smiled at her naivety. "Yes, I do believe so."

"Well, since you're here now, I suppose we should need to work on this ball. I hardly know where to start."

"Well, is there so some sort of ballroom here?"

"Yes, of course!" Christine jumped up. She took my hand and I followed her out of the parlor to the ballroom that was located at the back of the house, and the doors opened the garden.

"It's lovely!" I exclaimed, despite the fact that all of the furniture was currently covered with white sheets. "And I think this will do quite well for the ball." I walked around the room taking everything in, while at the same time remembering past balls I had gone to. "The orchestra can go here in this corner. See, you can see where the wall goes back as if to perfectly fit a small orchestra. And then, on this side, you can put out refreshments, and then the back gardens will be open as well."

"What shall we do for the decorations?"

"Well, the room is so beautiful as it is, that you wouldn't want to add too much. Nothing says 'bad taste' like an over decorated ball room, but the same can also be said if there are little to know decorations. I think, we can bring in the gardens from outside, and have flowers in here. These pillars will look stunning with ivy wrapped around them, and then you can have potted plants strategically placed about the room, and then add small floral arrangements on whatever tables you have."

"How many balls have you been too, Anne?"

"I had two seasons of my own, and I went to countless balls and parties. And then there was the preliminary planning of Elizabeth's debut ball. I've known my fair share of entertainment."

"And you never found anyone during your seasons?"

I shook my head as I ran my fingers along the curtains that covered the floor to ceiling windows. "I tend to be a little outspoken," I smiled wryly. "And none of the men lived up to my expectations."

"And what kind of expectations do you have?"

"Trying to play match maker, Madame?"

She laughed. "No. That would be Meg. But…in all seriousness…"

"I want someone who understands why I love music so much. Someone kind, and compassionate. I want someone who is not afraid of life. Someone who will hold me when I cry, laugh at my silliness, but someone I can argue with."

"Why would you want to argue with your husband?"

"Yes, it is strange isn't it? I don't want to be married to someone who expects me to bear him a son and then leaves me to be the perfect wife. I want someone who I can disagree with, but who will listen to me when I have something to say, no matter how ridiculous I may sound."

"So…you want to be equal to your husband?"

Christine and I turned at the sound of a man's voice that echoed in the ballroom.

"Raoul!" Christine turned and ran to her husband who kindly put his arms around her as she embraced him. "Darling, I think we've found the perfect person to plan all of our balls and parties for the rest of the time we're in Paris!"

I was a little confused by the complete transformation in Christine. She went from a grown up woman to what appeared to like the young girl she used to be in a matter of seconds. Her husband's arrival seemed to change her entirely. I couldn't help but wonder at the reason behind the alteration.

"She seems quite progressive in her ideas."

"Progressive in my ideas of planning a ball or in what I look for in a husband? Since Christine is already married, you can't assume that my ideologies would have any effect on the latter of the two."

His expression darkened. "No…I suppose not."

I raised an eyebrow and smiled. It was easy to tell he felt threatened by my ideas. A few well placed words to Christine and she wouldn't be the loving, devoted, blind bride he had married. Instead she would be a free-thinking woman capable of making her own decisions about her own wants, and desires, and entirely unafraid of standing up to her husband.

"And anyway, there's nothing bad about wanting to be an equal to my husband. It makes us more of a partnership than master and servant."

"How…progressive," was his cool reply.

"Yes, and probably means that I'll be a spinster for the rest of my days."

"Perhaps you'll meet someone at the ball," Christine encouraged.

"That depends on whether or not I've been invited. And speaking of invites, we need to move on to the guest list, and from there invitations." I looped my arm through Christine's and led her away from her husband back into the parlor. "Now…whom shall we invite?"

"I hardly know, Anne. I'm not at all familiar with the nobility here."

"Well, then we shall leave the society folk to your husband. But, you should also consider adding Meg to the list."

"Do you think she would come?"

"That's her own decision to make. However, I know that she would appreciate the consideration."

"Her mother as well?"

"Since she raised you, it's like inviting your own mother. You should also consider the Managers of the Populaire, as well as the Prima Donna. The recognition would be good for both them and the Opera House but would also show to society that you are not one to forget where you came from."

"Isn't to recognize my humble beginnings and still feel attached to it a bad thing?"

"If some people think that, then they have no right to consider themselves obligated to be acquainted with you. They should like you for who you are, not who you make yourself out to be."

"But didn't you say earlier that I have a part to play?"

"It's a fine line to walk. The part that you wish to play is all up to you. I'm not saying you should walk the streets with bare feet and without wearing your corset. You have to appear the fine lady everyone expects you to be, while at the same time reminding everyone that you came from nothing and have risen to greatness. You have overcome the impossible to marry a Vicomte and everyone should be jealous of your good fortune."

"Oh…"

"I know it's a lot to comprehend and everyone has to decide what their part actually is, but if played to the advantage of the life you want to lead, then you can be truly happy."

"I'm…not sure how to go about it."

"That takes time. And only can decide. Not Meg, not I, and not your husband."

I heard the bell on the clock chime five o'clock and new it was time to go. "We'll resume this later."

"Oh, won't you stay for dinner?"

"I'm not dressed for a dinner engagement and your husband appears to be the person who relies on protocol. However, should you and your husband wish to have a dinner party and you choose to invite me, then I accept. Just send your invitation and I will respond to it at my earliest convenience."

"Wonderful. I'll tell Raoul and we'll invite Meg as well."

"Good. Now, before I come back, you and your husband need to have decided upon a guest list, when you would like this to be, what type of ball you want to have, meaning if needs a theme or anything, as well as who you wish to hire for the orchestra."

"That's quite a to do list!"

"Yes, but it'll make things go a lot faster if the two of you are together on this."

"Alright. Tomorrow?"

"How about the day after tomorrow? I have a prior engagement that requires my Tuesdays and Thursdays."

"Oh? Anything special?"

I smiled. "It wouldn't seem special to you."

I accepted her invitation to walk me to the door, but as I was getting into the carriage, I felt a hand on my arm. I turned to find the hard blue eyes of the Vicomte.

"Monsieur?"

"You may seem to mean well, but I will not have you putting ideas into my wife's head."

"Whatever do you mean?" I asked, nonchalantly.

"The husband is the head of the household. I will not have you interrupting that balance."

"You will not have it? My dear Vicomte, I think you seem to forget that you have no power over me at all. And what goes on in your wife's head, is something you have to both deal with and accept. If you don't like the way she behaves or acts, then, quite frankly, that's your own fault. You married her. You made your bed…so lie in it." I withdrew my arm from his hold, climbed in the carriage and shut the door.

"Au revoir, Vicomte. I so look forward to the dinner invitation your wife promised me." His surprised look as the carriage drove away was a great personal satisfaction.