Hello, this is bo-leigh bella. This is my first attempt to write of my beloved Phantom. Raoul fans shield your eyes. Please let it be known that I do not own or have any rights to the Phantom movie, book, or musical. This is not a one-shot. Please review so I won't suffer writer's block.

Christine stared ahead as she heard her beloved angel's final lamenting song. She flinched at each splintering crash that was followed by chimes of glass falling to the stone floor. It's over now. No, it couldn't be finished. The music of the night, her heart cried out. It cannot be, the melodies of the night should never end! Her mind ran back to the passionate songs he had taught her, the way he lived the music he wrote. Some people wrote music, he created masterpieces. Every time he played, every time he sang, she was transported into the notes and lyrics. But, he only did so for her, his muse, his light in the dark pit of a lair.

Silent weak tears fell down her alabaster skin. What am I doing? She wondered. How can I leave him, without me, he doesn't even have his songs. Nothing that is what I have left him, nothing at all to console his betrayed heart. Now he will suffer pain beyond endurance with no beauty, no light to distract from its potency.

"Christine, my love, why are you crying?" Raoul looked down into her face, worry casting a shadow over his countenance. Christine gazed up into the eyes of the man who just risked his life to save her. Why was she disappointed, mournful even, that he was taking her away?

"I… I am just… so relieved." Liar! Her mind shrieked it over and over. Instead of saying anything further, she leaned against Raoul's shoulder, needing strength that she did not possess. She felt exhausted, and her chest felt like it was caving in on itself. Was this the feeling of being brokenhearted? She remembered the last words he had sang directly to her, his beautifully intense green eyes boring into her very soul.

"Christine I love you." His rich velvety voice had overwhelmed her. And what had she done? Placed her would be wedding ring back into his large tanned palm. The devastation he reflected had made her wince as his pain became hers.

"Wishing…You were somehow here again." She couldn't stop the hushed whispers. The Phantom's greatest creation, her voice, lamented in the saddest tune to ever go unwritten.

Erik shattered the mirrors he had gazed into for years. He couldn't bear to see the monstrosity of his own face any longer. Of course Christine couldn't love him, what an ignorant fool he was. He had felt almost beautiful, almost worthy. The way her large brown eyes had gazed at him, he thought it was awe. Maybe his sick mind had twisted the picture to allow him to see what he wanted, what he needed. But then again, when she sang with him, nothing could describe the feeling, so vulnerable and so powerful. He felt the ghost weight of her hand upon his shoulder. He shuddered at the delicious memory.

That kiss, how could Christine kiss him so completely, so passionately and feel nothing. Her lips against his had been nothing short of magical, wondrous. Never had someone dared to touch him so intimately. Why should they? Who would kiss the devil incarnate? Christine would. She had walked into his embrace with fear and uncertainty hanging between them, but the moment he tasted her lips all emotion fled, save intense desire. Her kiss had been so sweet so glorious, yet so seductive. A thousand feelings had overshadowed him. She did not stop at one. Her lips met his again and again, the salt of their tears intermingling. When she had backed out of his embrace, the joy within him turned immediately to searing agony.

He had endured a lifetime of pain, but no tortures he had suffered could compare to this monstrous agony. Moments ago he had everything he had ever wanted out of life, Christine. Allowing her to leave was the worst self masochistic torment he could ever imagine. He wanted her, needed her beyond any limits or reason. Loving her so much made him realize how much he hated himself for keeping her. What right did he have to keep such a perfect creature, especially against her wish? His heart bled as he watched her go. Nothing mattered anymore. All his genius, plotting, commitment, and talent did not earn her love. He had nothing left to give. She took his soul with her in that cursed boat.

Erik was only an angel with Christine. Now that she was gone, he sensed himself returning again to the wretched demon he was. "My darling, farewell," his voice choked on the goodbye.

"Wishing you were somehow here again." Christine? That was her sweet soprano tone floating on the air to him. What had she said? Was she speaking of him? Erik ran to the stairs of his landing and splashed into the river.

"Please, please sing something more to me. Anything," He begged brokenly, knowing she wouldn't be able to hear. The silence tore at him. "Christine!" He yelled, in anguish.

Christine awoke in the hotel suite Raoul had arranged for them to stay in. She donned her wrapper and walked softly to the vanity, hoping to cover the redness beneath her lids with powder. She had sobbed wildly when Raoul had retired to his own room, her heart fighting against her mind to return to her Angel. Mourning him seemed to drain her spirit. When she finally succumbed to sleep, the Phantom sang to her, lullabies to comfort her sadness. The discovery that it was only a dream dashed her hopes.

When she had seated herself at the mirror, she froze. There on the counter was a red rose tied with black silk ribbon, accompanied by a sealed letter. She broke the wax seal carefully.

My dearest Christine,

Within this letter I have enclosed the sheet music of my final song. My music was always yours as all of my being will remain. I sincerely hope that you find happiness in this life, no matter what form it is in. You will always be my angel; memories of our nights together will be treasured always. Thank you for them. I do not regret a single moment I have spent in your presence. I truly wish you may look back fondly on me one day.

Forgive me for the times I have hurt you. I never meant to do something so devious as to harm your innocent heart. Of all the sins in my life, I hold that to be the blackest. I pray you forget those hurts and remember nothing of the dark violence I demonstrated, but only the gentle side that you and no other have seen.

I have a final entreaty to ask. I know I presume too much to think I can ask anything of you. But please, never let anyone silence your mesmerizing voice, my darling. Through that lovely instrument, you will always be free.

I have no certainty that I will able to remain in the Opera House. If I cannot, you will always find me hiding with in the shadows. However, I will not hinder or intrude in your life anymore.

Yours eternally,

Phantom of the Opera

Christine stared at the letter in silence. If he left the Opera House, she might never be able to seek him out again. She was truly losing him, perhaps forever. The music had slipped out of the envelope and onto her lap. Picking it up, she read the pages, hearing the notes play out in her mind. The title rang with all of the accusing, sorrowful words her Phantom could not write in his letter. Finale: Lost Love.

Erik heard the trampling feet descending his stairwell. He smashed the final mirror and stepped into the passageway hidden behind it. Drawing a curtain behind him, the Phantom ran along the tunnel. The exit led to where his ebony horse was hobbled. Grabbing the reins, he jumped atop the stallion and rode into the night that was as black and empty as his heart.

He knew not where he would go or what he would do now. He knew only that he must find Christine before he did anything else. She was the only person on Earth worthy of the final piece he would ever compose.

I know this first chapter was short, sorry, future ones should increase in length. Will Christine remain with Raoul? Or will the Phantom's final tune recapture her heart and soul once again? What will happen to Erik? Is his music truly dead? Read and review to find out! Please read through ch 7! You won't regret it.