A/N: Song for this chapter: "But Not For Me" - Ella Fitzgerald (1959 - cover of the original from 1930)

Chapter Three

"It's Friday, so we might be able to snag a slice or two of pineapple upside down cake," Phil said excitedly, holding the door to Annie's open for Erik. "Would ya' look at that? It's not as crowded as I thought."

The diner wasn't like anything Erik expected. While most diners that he frequented in San Francisco were narrow rooms fitted between apartment buildings with only enough space for a handful of booths, Annie's was wide open and home to at least a dozen booths as well as several tables. The bar was long and at the midpoint of the room, it curved to create an L shape, the stools a subtle shade of blue, complementing the ivory countertops perfectly. At the end of the bar was a single door, which, by the looks of it, led to a kitchen.

As he stepped further inside, he was bombarded by a small blonde girl with crazed eyes. He did his best to not flinch away from her presence, but couldn't help it when she cocked her head at the sight of his mask. Thankfully, she spoke not a word of it, instead waved them forward and took them directly to a booth, not even sparing a glance at Phil.

"Here we are," she said, handing them each a menu after they slid into their seats. "What can I get started for you two?"

Erik folded his hands atop the table and peeked up at Phil, hoping that his friend would do most of the talking for him, but found him gawking at the girl as if he had seen a ghost. He had never seen Phil stare at anything like that, not even when he was shown the bank statement for his grandfather's account. And though Erik had no experience in the matter, he had no doubt that his friend had fallen in love.

"Little Marguerite Giry," he whispered shakily, his eyes flicking to her left hand briefly. "And how lucky am I that you have yet to go off and get married?"

"Why, if it isn't Philip Baker," she returned, her eyes sparkling as she gazed down at him, "living and breathing right before my eyes. Never thought I'd see your face again."

Phil chuckled and gestured to Erik. "All thanks to him. Erik, this is Meg, the girl I told you about."

Erik fought back the urge to ask which one he meant, ultimately keeping the comment to himself as he didn't want to dampen Phil's spirits for the sake of a wisecrack. Rather, he smiled and gave her a short nod before dropping his gaze to the table. It was then that he felt something odd, a strange tingle in his stomach and a sensation that he was being watched. A shiver ran up his spine and he swallowed hard, trying to keep himself calm so as not to draw any attention to himself.

With a steadying breath, he twisted in his seat and surveyed the diner for watchful eyes, but only a few people sat behind him and none were paying him any mind. There was also the cook, but only his torso was seen through the service window and he was likely far too preoccupied to be staring at one of his customers.

"Erik, you okay?" he heard Phil ask.

"Yeah," Erik said quietly. "I–I thought I felt something."

"Sometimes a breeze comes in through the back," Meg explained, tapping her pen against her notepad. "I'll check on it in a minute. For now, any drinks?"

"Just two beers, darlin'," Phil said, winking at the poor girl as she scribbled on the pad.

Bashfulness passed over her and she stopped writing, tucking her hair behind her ear. "I'll have that right out for you boys."

"Don't stay away for too long," Phil murmured, his voice low and charismatic. "I don't wanna miss ya'."

Erik's face twisted with disgust and he busied himself with picking at a chip in the paint rimming the table, praying for her to leave so that Phil would stop being a licentious bastard. It was overtly embarrassing and he wasn't sure if he would survive if he were subjected to it again. He did have to give it to the kid though, not many women denied his advances so obviously he was doing something right.

After what felt like an eternity, Meg skipped away and Erik turned his face up to Phil who was longingly watching after her. It was pitiful the way he was so hopelessly in love with the girl. He could never imagine himself in the same way, nor did he ever want to be in the same way. There was something terrifying in the thought of being so possessed by a girl. It was, by far, the most dangerous thing that could happen to a man.

"I think I'm in love," Phil said softly. "Did you see the way she smiled at me?"

"You've said that about the last three girls," Erik remarked guilefully. "How many women are you going to fall in love with?"

Phil scoffed and leaned forward, whispering, "This one's different. I wanna marry her."

"Don't you think you ought to get to know her a bit better?"

"I know her as good as any other person does. We were in the same year together at Hornbeck. Never had the courage to ask her out."

"Why don't you ask her out tonight?"

"That's the plan."

Just then, Meg arrived back at the table with two huge glasses filled to the brim with a pale beer. While beer hadn't always sat right with Erik, he had grown used to the stuff during his time overseas as everyone drank it more than water. His preferred drink had always been a nice scotch.

"Here you are," she said as she slid a glass in front of each of them. Then, she looked pointedly at Phil. "Is there anything else I can get for you?"

"Why don't you come here a moment?" Phil asked, tapping his foot on the floor outside the booth. "Right here, sweetheart."

Meg obeyed immediately. "Yes?"

He reached out and wrapped his hand around her wrist and tugged her forward as he slid sideways on the bench. Without much resistance, she settled onto his lap, a wide smile on her face. Phil gazed up at her adoringly, his chest heaving with nerves, Erik was sure of it. His friend wasn't one to ever be nervous when it came to a woman, but now, with Meg on his lap, the sudden tension was thick.

"C-can I keep you for the rest of the night?" Phil managed. "I promise I won't break your heart."

"Where are you manners?" she scolded as she jokingly batted at his arm.

The display made Erik's stomach churn and he quickly chugged down some of his beer, hoping to drown himself before anything lewd happened. Unfortunately, it didn't take long for Meg to kiss Phil unprovoked, and not just any kiss but one that should only happen in the bedroom. And she was the one asking Phil where his manners were!

"Jesus," Erik muttered, drinking down even more of his beer and doing his best to avoid the sight across from him. He hadn't expected Phil to take on a woman so fast, nor to get one to willingly kiss him.

"Don't mind him, he just hasn't met the right woman yet," he said as he gestured to Erik.

"And you have?" Meg asked sweetly.

"You tell me."

Once again, the two engaged in a kiss and Erik knew that it was his queue to leave, so he pushed his beer away and started scooting out of the booth. There was little chance he was going to sit around and watch his friend practically have sex in the middle of a diner.

"I'm gonna get home," Erik announced, his eyes directed to the table. "Phil, I'll see you in the morning."

"Wait!" Meg cried, reaching out and grabbing his wrist before he could stand. The touch made Erik recoil slightly, but he did his best not to yank away from her as he didn't want to start a problem. "You'll miss the entertainment. Christine always performs on Friday nights. You can't leave yet."

"Christine Daae?" Phil asked. "Would've thought her father dragged her to the Carolina's by now."

"Nope, he was offered a permanent position at Fort Polk," Meg explained. She glanced over her shoulder and excitedly said, "Oh, she's starting!"

Erik continued to slide out of the booth, ignoring the nasty glare from the woman across from him and once he was on his feet, he offered, "I'll come by next Friday. See you at home, Phil."

Meg hopped off of Phil's lap and blocked the way to the door, hands on her hips as she stared up at Erik. "You sit down right now. There isn't a huge turnout and it's hard on her when that happens. Do you really want to be the reason why her hopes and dreams were crushed?"

With a heavy sigh, Erik carefully returned to his seat and snatched back his beer. Why was he letting a woman tell him what to do? Why couldn't he just leave? He was a grown adult, far older than the two of them, yet he was bending to their will. He supposed that it wouldn't be too bad as long as he kept his face tucked into his beer and ignored any unsavory noises that drifted his way. It wasn't like he had anywhere else to be or anything better to do. Might as well sit at a diner and enjoy whatever life throws at him.

A gentle, lulling voice came over the diner just as Erik was lifting his glass to his lips for another drink and his eyes briefly flickered to the source. He was about to return his gaze to the table when his heart stopped and the diner started spinning. A feel, deep in his gut, rose to his lungs and he managed to expel a shuddering breath.

"Holy Hell," was all he could say as he was far too captivated by the woman on the small stage.

Never in his life, not once, had he seen anything as beautiful as her. Even from a distance, he could see the chestnut of her eyes, the pale skin of her cheeks, splotched with the same rosy shade as her lips, her neck enduring the same fate and, by God, the chocolate ringlets piled atop her head, tied up with a white ribbon. He wondered what it would be like to tug on one end of the ribbon and bear witness to the curls falling down her back.

Erik was only vaguely aware of the murmurings across from him, the hushed giggles and the foot tapping his leg beneath the table. None of it mattered, not when she commanded his attention, not when an angel was staring directly at him. Her full bosom heaving as she held the microphone at her chest, the stance much like a prayer.

Wait…she was looking at him? No, it wasn't possible. There was no chance in Hell that a woman such as her would spare a single glance in his direction. Yet, when the corner of his mouth twitched up into a smile at just the idea of the insanity, she returned the sentiment, an even deeper blush enveloping her cheeks. She–no, what was her name? Christine. Christine was looking at him! And smiling, no less!

Only a few seconds passed when music filled the diner and Christine took a deep breath, bringing the microphone to her lips and starting her song. He was dead. He had to be. An angel was singing to him, her resonant voice shaking him to the core and making his stomach twist in a way that was neither painful or uncomfortable, rather something pleasant and warm. He wasn't even sure he could love her any more at that moment and he sent an oath to God, swearing his fealty to the goddess on the stage.

Time passed quickly, each song ending sooner than it should have and he had to stop himself from rising and pleading for more. Only a fool would beg at a woman's feet; he had to control himself, she couldn't know that he was hopelessly in love with her. She would never know.

A lump formed in Erik's throat at the realization that he had no chance with her. He wasn't the type of man a woman like her would marry, or even agree to go on a date with. He had no doubt that she couldn't even see his mask from how far away she was. How would he survive if she rejected him to his face?

Tearing his eyes away from Christine, he looked at Phil who was staring at him as if he knew something Erik didn't. Meg mirrored his expression, biting her lip and bouncing excitedly.

"You okay, bud?" Phil asked.

Erik only nodded and attempted to steady his erratic breathing, his only solace being the fact that Christine had left the stage and he would never have to see her again. But only if he left fast enough. He couldn't be possessed by a woman, not him. He wasn't supposed to fall in love, have a wife, a family. Nothing a normal man was fortunate enough to have.

"Is your friend alright?" he heard Meg say as he squeezed his eyes shut and tried to rid himself of the building moisture.

"I think so," Phil said, his voice low. "I've never seen him like this before."

Meg giggled. "By the way he was drooling, I say he's fallen in love."

Erik ignored their remarks, blindly pawing for the edge of the booth to pull himself out. He couldn't open his eyes, not when he could catch sight of Christine at any moment and be reminded of the way her hips swayed as she sang, or how her gaze kept flitting to him. No, he had to leave and fast.

"I–I'm going home," he announced, sliding to the edge of the seat.

"Why don't you stay a while longer?" Phil suggested. "At least finish your beer."

Keeping his head turned away from any direction Christine would be in, Erik slotted his eyes open and noticed he still had more than half of his beer left. He couldn't waste it; Phil was buying, and that man wasn't one to let slide a beer going to waste. Not to mention, Erik's mouth was completely dry and he could hardly swallow. He wouldn't be able to make it home without stopping for a drink somewhere and he didn't know where any place was in town.

"I'll finish it, then leave," he asserted, lifting the glass to his lips and drinking deeply.

He peeked at Phil who now sat by himself, a wide smile plastered on his face, and then he heard it. Her voice. God, it was her voice and it was directly behind him!

"Meg, please. I–I can't," she pleaded. "Stop it."

"He won't bite, I promise!" Meg insisted. "Hello again, boys. Phil, you already know Christine."

"Hey, Chrissy," Phil greeted, tilting his head towards her while winking at Erik.

Erik followed his gaze, chest heaving and eyes going wide at the sight of her directly in front of him. He didn't know it was possible, but she was even more beautiful and he couldn't believe that he missed the subtle freckling across her nose or the dimpling of her cheeks as she smiled.

"And this is–" but he didn't let Meg finish. Instead, he rose to his feet, towering over Christine by nearly a whole foot.

"Erik," he said feebly, holding out his hand in hopes she would accept it. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Christine," she returned softly as she slipped her hand into his. Her velvet skin was nearly enough to bring him to his knees, but he was able to keep upright through sheer force of will. He couldn't make a fool of himself, not when they had been in each other's presence for more than a minute and she had yet to even look at his mask. It was like it wasn't even there.

Gently, Erik bowed his head and brought her hand to his lips, placing a gentle kiss on her knuckles. He felt her shiver but she didn't withdraw. Perhaps, he was having the same affect on her as she was on him.

"You're very beautiful," he whispered. "I–I mean, your voice is beautiful."

"Oh," she said quietly, letting her hand fall to her side, eyes dropping to the floor. "Th–thank you."

Fuck.

"But that doesn't mean that you aren't beautiful," he assured her, wanting more than anything to slip his fingers beneath her chin and force her to look at him. "I–I think you are very–"

"He means both, don't you Erik?" Phil interjected with the same stupid smile.

"Yes, both," Erik agreed, gauging Christine's reaction to ensure he didn't upset her again. Thankfully, she peeked up at him, a roseate blush flooding her face and neck, hands twisting atop her apron.

"Christine was about to take her break," Meg said, pushing her friend towards Erik. "Why don't you keep her company?"

"Meg and I are going to see about some pineapple upside down cake." Phil chuckled and met Meg by the bar. He gave Erik a reassuring look and followed her to the door to the kitchen.

When they were out of sight, Erik turned his attention back to Christine who was shifting from foot to foot and twirling a stray ringlet between her fingers.

"Would you like to sit?" he offered, gesturing to the bench across from the one he previously occupied.

Christine hesitated for a moment, which brought on a tinge of worry, but it faded quickly when she accepted the seat and slid into the booth. He did the same on his side, folding his hands on the table and sitting up as straight as he could. Now came the dilemma of a topic of conversation. Having never spent time with a woman, he wasn't sure if he should speak of the weather or if she enjoyed her evening. Phil made it seem so simple, though he usually skipped casual conversation.

Mustering as much courage as he could, Erik said, "Tell me about yourself."

"You don't wanna know about me," she said meekly. "There's not much to–"

"Christine, there you are!" a voice came from behind him. "Meg seems to have disappeared so I need you to pick up her tables while I find her. Charlotte can't cover them on her own."

Damn it all the Hell.

Erik wanted to wring both Phil's and Meg's necks for not giving him enough time with Christine. Why couldn't they have made sure no one interrupted them? That's what they wanted, wasn't it? After all, they were the ones who forced Christine into his company.

"Yes, Annie," Christine replied before giving an apologetic look to him. "It was nice talking with you, Erik."

"I agree," he said as she exited the booth.

Christine turned to walk away but paused and glanced at him over her shoulder. "I–I'm off at eight tonight, if–if you wanted to wait for me. It's only a half hour."

"Until then, Christine," Erik breathed, hardly able to believe that he was going to have his first ever date with a woman.

/

A/N: The fic title comes from "But Not For Me". I will post the lyrics below:

They're writing songs of love, but not for me

A lucky star's above, but not for me

With love to lead the way I've found more clouds of gray

Than any Russian play could guarantee

I was a fool to fall and get that way

Hi-ho, alas, and also lack-a-day

Although I can't dismiss the memory of her kiss

I guess he's not for me

I was a fool to fall and get that way

Hi-ho, alas, and also lack-a-day

Although I can't dismiss the memory of his kiss

I guess he's not for me