I do not own Love Never Dies. It belongs to the amazing Andrew Lloyd Webber and the characters belong to Gaston Leroux

Chapter 1

I was walking away from the pier, Gustave in hand and Erik on my left when I started to think, should I tell Gustave who his real father is? I'll have to. We can't go back to Paris. Raoul is there and technically I had just left him.

A year after Gustave was born I started singing at Gala's and Charity events. Eventually I ended up at the Opera where I belonged. I knew Raoul was upset about me going back and the more I think about it, that could be why he started to drink. Me being gone night after night. After he started drinking he got violent. Not just to me but to Gustave as he got older. He would hit Gustave if he ran off and once or twice he would hit me after coming home from the opera. That's when I stopped singing. I was worried for myself and for Gustave. I didn't realise Raoul had started to gamble and my job was the only thing keeping us out of poverty.

My last concert was in Monticallo where Raoul lost all our money on a game of cards he knew he would never be able to win. We got back to Paris and we were broke. I couldn't go back to the opera. People would talk and we were in trouble enough as it was without people breathing down our backs.

"Christine?" Erik said pulling me out of my thoughts.


"Are you okay? You're crying."

"Mmm I'm fine. Just tired." I said wiping away a tear.

He gave me a sideways glance and raised his eyebrows.


"Yes Gustave?"

"When are we getting home? I'm tired." He said rubbing his eyes.

"Oh, Gustave." I said bending down to pick him up but he was getting to heavy for me to lift.

"Here." said Erik bending down to lift him.

"Thank you." I said.

As we walked back to the hotel, Gustave fell asleep and silence fell between Erik and I. What was I meant to say to him? Thank you for saving my life? I've already done that a million times. I should never have come? No. I had to. The money Erik had offered us was too much to turn down. Why did Raoul want me to leave so bad? Well, that was obvious wasn't it? Why else did Raoul leave?

As we walked up the stairs Erik said the first thing in about an hour.

"Which bedroom is Gustave's?"

"The first one on the right."

Erik walked ahead of me and I had time to think. What was I going to do? All my stuff was in Paris and my farther... The anniversary of his death was coming up. I haven't missed one in nineteen years.

I opened the door to my hotel room and walked inside. The light was on but Erik was nowhere to be seen.

I went to the sink and got myself a glass of water. I felt so sick I put one hand on my head and one on the kitchen bench to stop myself from fainting.

"Fast asleep." Said Erik coming out of Gustave's room.

"Thank you Erik."

He took a closer look at me as he walked over. "Are you okay? You're shaking and you're as pale as a ghost."

"Erik, My son was almost killed, I was shot at and my only friend, not that I could really call her that anymore, tried to kill herself. She could die at any minute."

He looked down at his shoes "Sorry." He mumbled.

"Erik." I said walking over to him "I didn't mean to upset you but I've had a hard few weeks and this isn't helping" I put my hand on his arm and he looked up.

"I know Christine. I know."

There was silence for a few minutes and I left my hand on his arm and we kept looking at each other. He wouldn't take his eyes off me even when I looked away. I realised he would have to go soon. But I didn't want him to go. Not yet. Why didn't I want him to leave? After all he had done to me. Kidnapped me, made me faint, and tired to kill Raoul. Twice! Then he kidnapped me again! Okay so I went willingly the first time, but that isn't the point. Then we had spent the night together and he up and left! And didn't get in contact with me for ten years! Why would I still want him here? Then I saw the coffee tin and I had a good idea. Maybe he would stay longer if he had something to do. Or drink.

"Would you like something to drink Erik? Coffee? Tea?" I asked breaking the deafening silence.

"Oh no. I should be going home. God knows what Gustave would think if he found out that Mr. Y had stayed the night." He said with a laugh "And that couch doesn't look the nicest." He inclined to the living room with his head. "Besides last time I was here I found out you're quite strong." I blushed.

"Sorry about that and who said anything about sleeping on the couch?" I asked raising my eyebrows slightly.

He looked at me with a shocked expression in his eyes.

"What I mean to say is there are beds. Lots of beds because this is a hotel after all and..." I was only digging a bigger hole for myself.

"No Christine. It's best I go home." He said shaking his head.

"Erik I didn't mean..."

"I know what you mean Christine." I went to speak "No Christine. That's exactly what you meant and I don't think either of us are ready for that." He said walking to the door.

"I'll see you tomorrow." And with that he left.