Hello all! Thank you for the feedback from last chapter, you guys are the best and it's always a pleasure to read your thoughts. I hope you all enjoy the new chapter and if you are Jewish, I know tomorrow is the first day of Hanukkah, so I hope you enjoy! :)

Chapter VIII: Not as Planned

It wasn't a surprise that when the performance was over and when she was ushered into the room by Madame Giry—since there was even more people than the day before who wanted to interview her and give her praise outside her room—that on the chair on top was her folded frock that she had left down in the Phantom's lair. Now Theresa found out why he was called the phantom, Erik was more elusive and sneaky than the common man. He must have had done it right when she had left, too. The folded frock seemed to be there for a while. Theresa looked around the room, it seemed to be just how she had left it. It was almost ten as she sat at her vanity.

The door opened without a sound and it took Theresa a moment to realize that it was a woman dressed in a pale green gown. It hung off her shoulders and her waist was made to be skinnier than hers. Theresa thought that to be impossible. The skirt of her dress bustled to the floor with a flawless floral design that had the colour of a soft black. She wore a necklace of diamonds and her ears had earrings of pearls. She was rich. Theresa could tell just looking at her.

At her side was Jean who had a smile on his face. But his eyes were distant and his smile was far from being bright.

"Signora," he started, walking with the woman on his arm. Theresa acknowledged the two of them with a small smile and Meg followed behind them, but staying by the door. Jean looked between the woman and Theresa, who were looking at each other with a mild interest. "I want you to meet my fiancé, Monique Bonnet." Her cold, black eyes held no feeling at all. The beautiful woman with her cheeks painted with a light pink that matched her petite mouth knew what status she was compared to Theresa. Clearly she was proud of it.

Theresa tried to remain cordial with the pompous air flooding around her so suddenly. "Monique, this is Signora Theresa Baccelli, the Prima Donna." She bowed her head at her and held out her hand for Monique to shake.

The woman only looked at it. This was Jean's fiancé? She was nothing like him. Monique only curtsied showing a bit of politeness. She declined the hand that Theresa offered her, which Theresa slowly brought down. Theresa tried to show that she wasn't at all taken aback by this. Monique said to her, in an almost high-pitched, forced tone, "Pleasure, I am sure."

"Pleasure?" Theresa questioned softly for a moment not realizing what she meant. She took pleasure in meeting her? Clearly her sour face spoke for itself. She looked like she smelled something funny just by the way she crinkled her nose while faking that smile. "Oh," she realized that Monique thought that Theresa was taking in pleasure meeting her. Woman was delusional. She only met her for a second and already she wanted her out. But she politely replied, "Pleasure is all mine. It's great to meet Jean's fiancé."

Monique's smile fell and she furrowed her brow at her, "Jean?" Jean visibly gulped and turned to look away from her as she was still hooked on his arm. Monique looked over at him clearly dismayed. "I thought I knew your name as Gaston."

Jean's jaw visibly tensed. Maybe he didn't like her, too. By the way he looked at her, he didn't seem to. Jean looked over to explain, but Theresa stepped in to help. Standing up from her seat, she stated, looking apologetically at Monique, "Oh, I apologize. His name is Gaston. I was just talking to that... French journalist... uh, Jean..." she trailed off, not finding a last name.

Meg decided to save the day from the door, "Jean Dubois!" Monique looked behind her shoulder and at the sound of her voice, so did Jean. A real smile crossed his face as the blonde came walking to Theresa's side and away from the door. Jean's eyes followed while his smile visibly grew. Theresa saw a strange look in his eyes as he looked at her. She couldn't pinpoint it. Meg looked to Monique as her eyes scorned Meg's precious brown ones. Why did they look like they were scorning? Meg explained to her, "Well, you see... a man talked to her before maman rushed her in here. His name was Jean. She gets tired and singing on stage could be tiring. She even messed up my name several times and her and I are good friends."

Monique's scorning stare made Meg more nervous as she spoke. A great look of admiration sprawled on Jean's face and he mouthed appreciative, 'Merci.' Monique looked to Theresa, who was smiling innocently. She looked down at the floor and shook her head. Theresa admitted to her, bringing her eyes back to look into hers, "I know, it's silly of me to not know the patron's name by heart already. But I did only meet him today."

"Yes, but I did make it a point to meet you sooner," Jean said to her quickly, holding up a single finger. His eyes never left Meg as he talked to her. Theresa tried not to gawk at what she was seeing, but she made it a point to lightly kick his foot when his fiancé wasn't looking. He was brought out of it and looked to Theresa taken aback, but she only looked back at him warningly. He could've thanked her as well, but instead he teased, "And I did hear that people were talking about my arrival."

"I live under a rock usually," she retorted to him.

He countered easily. Chastising her came easily since they had met."I see that... probably in the woods where the wolves live to not hear it."

"The rock must be very big, too," Monique started, looking at Theresa, her fake smile back to haunt her. Monique continued and what she was saying to Theresa sounded more of an insult if anything, "To not hear of Gaston being the patron of the Opera Populaire is absurd. He is part of one of the most prominent families in France next to mine. It indeed is a silly thought that you made it a point to not remember his name, signora." She laughed loudly and Theresa hated it.

Theresa mumbled softly, "Silly thought indeed."

Jean gulped, obviously the meeting between the two wasn't going as planned. She was going to be invited to dinner, but he could see the distaste in Monique's eyes. He felt it come to a close, even though it was so short a meeting. "Well..." he trailed off, he couldn't possibly know how to even leave now... it was getting awkward by the moment. Jean went on to saying, "Congratulations, Theresa. You sang beautifully tonight." Jean looked over at Meg and nodded to her. "You too... Meg, your dancing was sublime." A genuine smile was exchanged between the two of them.

Theresa could feel Meg's happiness just from the compliment. She tried not to roll her eyes, it was clear to see that the two took a fancy with each other. This was bad... very bad and it wasn't going to get better with the coming weeks if they continue... whatever it was that they were doing. Theresa answered for the both of them, "Thank you, J—Gaston." She cursed herself for the mistake. Jean chuckled to cover it up and nodded. Theresa looked over at Monique, "Nice to meet you, Monique."

"Same to you," replied Monique shortly. Theresa tried to hold back a scowl. Monique didn't bother with saying goodbye to the ballerina. She patted Jean's arm who looked over at her. "Come on Jean, my mother and father are awaiting in the carriage for dinner." Jean sighed a bit grudgingly, but Monique didn't notice at all. He nodded to her and then looked to Theresa and Meg a bit apologetically. Jean gave the two of them a small wave before turning with her on the crook of his arm.

Meg and Theresa stood there watching them leave and when the door shut behind them, Theresa looked over at Meg curiously. "Well," she started, her eyes flickering from Meg to the door several times. "That was... interesting, wasn't it?"

She replied shortly, still looking at the door dazed, "Very."

"Monique is... very courteous." Theresa said slowly and carefully. Meg looked over at her like she was insane. "She at least had the great mind to put on a fake smile for the two of us. That might have been her good deed for the day." Meg and her shared a laugh at the small joke. The two plopped in two seats, Theresa crossed her legs while looking at the door with slight disgust. "That woman better watch next time who she looks at like that. Maybe I won't be so polite next time."

Meg shook her head no, "Too bad that she is there to stay. Poor Jean," the sadness in her voice was evident as she spoke of her. Theresa raised both of her eyebrows as she continued, "stuck in that arranged marriage." Oh, no wonder were the two nothing alike at all. The marriage was arranged. Theresa thanked the heavens that her father and mother were no longer there to arrange marriages for her. Her mother would have surely, but her father would have stopped it before it would happen.

"Oh, I knew that him and her wouldn't be together otherwise. That is such a shame," admitted Theresa honestly. Theresa wasn't upset about the aspect that Jean was getting married, no, she didn't like him like that. The shame about it was that he was wasting a life with a woman that he clearly didn't love. Meg slowly nodded agreeing with her, but she didn't say a word. Theresa sighed, "That handsome man being married to that pompous ra—."

"Theresa!" Meg laughed, shoving her shoulder lightly to cut her off. "You shouldn't speak ill of her like that."

"You're right I shouldn't," chuckled Theresa, looking at the door. "I only just met the woman." Theresa looked over at Meg, maybe she should pull it out of her easily and slowly. Theresa was never good at being subtle when she wanted to know something or when she was curious. It would bother her like an insect for the rest of the night if she didn't ask. But she would be subtle about it, get it out of her gradually. She started nonchalantly, "So how did you find out about him being in an arranged marriage, Meg? Are you two close?"

Maybe that wasn't as nonchalant and subtle like she wanted but it was a start. Meg nodded, "I have talked to him since the first day he started being the patron. Nice man, he had told me yesterday about it. He seemed very distraught about it as he told me though. I cannot blame him, it must be horrible for him to be in that."

"Hmm," she hummed, looking at Meg in a way like she was trying to figure it out. Meg had cast her eyes downward and Theresa shrugged her shoulders. She pressed on further; she had a feeling that she wasn't going to get anywhere with this at all. "He is handsome. I only remember some of the patrons from my mother's operas. I was young, but I still remember. They were all old and not good-looking."

Meg nodded, "The patrons here have been the same. I think the youngest before Jean was the Vicomte De Chagny, Raoul. As you know, he married the Prima Donna before you, Christine." Her voice seemed to dampen a bit saying Christine's name out loud. Theresa frowned, they must have been friends maybe before. Theresa smiled sympathetically at her and Meg felt her gaze on her. She explained, "Christine and I were friends since she came here when she was seven after her father died. She was like a sister and I hadn't seen her for a while, only a couple of times since she married."

She understood what she was talking about. When her friends were married off while she was being trained, she felt so alone since she suddenly saw them a couple of times here and there. Theresa had never gotten two words in a conversation since there was no conversation when she would see them. That was why her thirst for marriage to be with them only made her resent her mother at times. Theresa stated to her optimistically, "Well, who knows, there might be many times soon after those couple. She probably misses you too, Meg."

Meg smiled back at her and opened her mouth to say something when the door opened revealing Madame Giry. Meg and Theresa looked over at the door where she stood in immediate attention. "There you are, Meg." she stated, "I've been looking for you." Meg stood up obediently for her mother as she walked toward them. Out of instinct, even though she wasn't a ballerina and Madame Giry couldn't punish her (she probably wouldn't), Theresa straightened her posture for she was slightly slouching.

The mistress looked to Theresa, a smile on her face, a small one, but a smile nonetheless. "I should have known to find her here with you. Don't know why I hadn't checked here first," the thick accent from her voice was hard for Theresa to almost understand what she was saying to her. When Theresa talked did people understand what she was saying most of the time with her accent? She suddenly wondered that.

Theresa didn't respond, she merely nodded. The Madame took her daughter by the shoulders. "Now, all the other dancers are going to bed now. I suggest you..." she trailed off. Theresa watched her carefully for a moment and followed her eyes to where they were gazing at. They looked strange and maybe a little worried. "Theresa," Theresa saw Madame Giry let go of her daughter's shoulders and absently go to where she was looking at. Theresa watched as she picked up a white rose with a black ribbon on it tied in a perfect knot. The discomfort clearly on her face.

She continued, "Where—Where have you...gotten this rose from?" It was Erik again. Theresa tried not to widen her eyes, she should have saw it sooner but she was too absorbed to notice it yet again. Theresa slowly stood up and hovered over Madame Giry's shoulder to see that she was touching the black ribbon tentatively like it was going to burn her if she would. Should she lie? Should she tell the truth? Or should she say she didn't know?

Theresa gulped inwardly and slowly Madame Giry looked over to her. Theresa thought quickly, "Henri."

"Henri had given this to you?" Madame Giry asked, Theresa got the feeling that she didn't believe her. Theresa tried to make her point believable.

"Yes, he had. It's beautiful, isn't it?" Theresa pointed out and gently took the rose out of her hands. The pricks on it, she noticed, weren't there. "It took me by surprise. He even took the time in taking off the thorns for me. Monsieur D'Aubigne can be a gentleman when he really wants to be..." Theresa held the rose tightly, worried that she would get it taken away if she wasn't careful. Madame Giry looked into her eyes for a while, she knew that she was lying. But soon broke her gaze from her.

"Pass my compliments to Monsieur D'Aubigne then," she stated softly and reluctantly. Theresa nodded slowly, taking a step back from her as she still held the rose possessively. Madame Giry looked over at Meg. "Come on, my dear. It's time to retire to bed."

"Yes, maman." Meg stated with a small nod. She looked over at Theresa, "Goodnight, Theresa."

"Goodnight," said Theresa to the both of them. She watched the two of them leave her room and shut the door quietly. Theresa stood there for a moment, her eyes suddenly drawn to the rose that was in her hand. The Phantom didn't have trust in her now? He owed her even more for hiding his secret from Madame Giry, the woman that she was sometimes scared of. Theresa stood there still and she felt something cold go through her while in the warm room for a split second. Theresa felt herself walk slowly to her vanity, placing the rose there.

She then went to her bookcase, skimming the binding of each that had the titles written in cursive. Theresa took the one on the far end, The Hunchback of Notre Dame. The pages in it were untouched and after she placed it on her bed, changed quickly into a nightgown, she opened it to find the smell of a new book open up in her lap as she sat on her bed. She got it the first time she stepped into Paris. But she never brought herself to read it until then. How little did she know that she'd be reading it all night, unable to stop.

Theresa woke up late the next day with the book opened on her lap. She fell asleep. The page was turned to one of the later chapters, not many works made her do this. There were only a couple that had. Theresa blinked repeatedly to get her vision back to normal from it being blurry. It took her awhile to actually get up, but she had forgotten that she didn't need to.

They were all off. The Opera House usually takes days off after a performance. Until they get what they are to work on next. Theresa heard the managers talking about a newer ballet... Swan Lake, she believed it was called. But she wasn't sure, she might have been wrong.

The day went on to be very uneventful. Theresa was in need of work the whole day and no one was in the mood giving it to her. Small things, like helping out in the kitchen, helping with the chores around the Opera House. She wanted to help to keep her mind from being bored, but no one had let her. All of them would only give her a funny look, ask 'Why?', and then laughed while they continued their work. She found a lot of the people absent as well when she had awaken. She didn't even remember sleeping last night, which was strange enough for her.

Theresa went to the small cafe with the people she thought that she would never go with. The managers. They invited her to go with them across the street and their conversations were all blurred out by her. She really didn't care about what they were talking about. They ate lunch rather late, too. It was around half past two, and when they came out, Theresa didn't realize how long it was that André and Firmin kept talking on and on for... with basically only between the two of them! It was already almost five!

When she had gotten to her room it was a quarter past five. Theresa sighed as she opened the day the light was straining through the opened curtains as the sun was beginning to set. She shook her head, she just had lunch and soon she would have to have dinner because it was served at around six. Speaking of dinner, Theresa kicked a small note that she didn't noticed was slid under the door before. The sound of the paper shifting across the floor caused her to bend over and pick it up in her hand. The parchment was folded over several times.

Her name was in cursive in the front and she tilted her head curiously. Theresa debated if she should unfold it and see what was there. She looked around herself, getting an eerie feeling that this note held something that she really didn't want to happen. Theresa cursed her curious mind as she unfolded the parchment. She soon found that she was right.

My Dearest Theresa,

Roses are red, violets are blue, it's just so sweet the surprise I have for you. When the clock strikes seven and the night sky is at its best, princess, walk down the foyer stairs to find an eager prince waiting for you. I'm bad at poetry and I do not have a game in the rhyming play, but what I do have is reservations at the La Belle Dame and I need a lady to come with me. I hope to see you soon, my dear, and soon I would have to wait. Impatient I am, so hurry up. Look your best.

Love your dearest,


P.S. You look your best all the time, so I shouldn't ask of it with you.

Theresa stood there looking at the graceful cursive and the time and care that he had put into this note. Something stirred in her stomach, she didn't know what the feeling was, but it made her nervous. She never felt such what she was feeling then, but what she did feel that was familiar was that her face becoming hot by the minute. She shook her head, taking the note in her hand and ripping it in half. "Il bastardo mi lusinga," muttered Theresa under her breath as she placed the rip note on the near table.

She walked over to the closet, knowing how long she was going to take getting ready and how long it was going to pick a dress.

Henri paced back and forth on the tiled floor in the foyer. His body was stiff, but his back was slouched as he held his hands behind him. He stopped, looked up at the top, she wasn't there. He took out his pocket watch that was in his jacket to see that it was exactly seven.

Where was she?

He looked away and continued to pace back and forth, he was nervous. Henri was nervous. It was a new feeling that he really hadn't felt before and it was strange that it came now above any other time. A minute passed, then two minutes passed, and then three minutes passed. His patience just kept lowering

Finally, Henri just stopped pacing in the middle and walked over to the railing. He looked absently to the side at the manager's office. He couldn't say that he wasn't worried that she wasn't going to come. Maybe he went all about this wrong... or maybe she didn't notice the note... No, of course she noticed it. Now he was just being ridiculous.

Then he heard someone clear their throat and he looked over to only get his eyes widened. He tried so hard not to gape, but it was just so hard to not. He gulped, murmuring breathlessly, "Theresa."

When she heard her name, her smile had fallen and her grip on the railing tightened on the railing. "I'm sorry," she looked down at herself, she wasn't sure if she dressed right. She never went out to dinner... well a formal one. Henri furrowed his brow to her confused about what she would be sorry for. Theresa shook her head when she looked up at him, "I... hope this is appropriate to wear out."

"Sorry?" He repeated questionably. He chuckled, there was nothing to be sorry about. She looked absolutely gorgeous. If there was someone to be sorry it would be him for staring and gaping at her. "Nothing to be sorry about, my lady," he went up the stairs to her slowly. Theresa's eyes smiled as her lips curved into one. Henri held out his hand to her, "I'm dressed just as formal. It would be an honour taking you out in this." He smiled charmingly at her as she slowly took his hand.

Henri brought it to his lips and kissed the knuckles on that hand before actually placing it for her on the crook of his arm. "I have a carriage out in the stables getting ready, my lady," he informed, never taking her eyes off of her as they both descended the stairs. "The restaurant isn't that far away though. We could always walk if you want."

"The carriage is fine, Henri." She replied quickly, in his grey-blue eyes she could see how nervous he was about this. When he placed her hand on the crook of his arm, she felt it become stiff and tense. Henri nodded to her and then looked forward, suddenly frozen in his spot. His eyes widening in horror as a couple walked into the Opera Populaire with smiles on their faces. The woman had a genuine smile and the man's smile was something that one should never trust. Theresa looked over at Henri, stopping abruptly was a surprise.

She almost had fallen on top of him. Theresa questioned, "Henri? What's the matter?"

Henri didn't answer, he only looked over at her. Shocked and speechless beyond belief. Theresa never thought that this man would be at a lost for words until then. The woman spoke out, "Henri, you're not going to greet us?" Henri faced her and gently moved his arm forward to make Theresa move along with him again.

"I..." he trailed off. He didn't know what to say to see his mother and... step-father come in. Jeanine and Edmond D'Aubigne were standing there, watching Henri walk down the stairs. He finally asked instead of greeting them politely, "What are you doing here?"

Edmond chuckled with a sting of venom. Henri loathed that chuckle since the day of their marriage. His lips curled into a slight sneer when he spoke, "And that is how the man greets us? Like we aren't his family at all? Son," when Henri was walking toward them with a very confused Theresa, he patted his shoulder. Henri tried not to glare. Edmond continued, "it's not wrong for your father and mother wanting to see you."

"Oh, you must be his parents," Theresa stated, no longer in her confused stupor. The two looked over at her confused as she held out her hand for them to shake, "I'm Theresa Baccelli, pleasure to meet you."

"Henri, this woman is beautiful," Edmond stated, sending a look to him before looking back at her as he grabbed her hand. "Pleasure is all mine, mademoiselle. I detect an accent, Italian?" Theresa nodded and let go of his hand. "Edmond D'Aubigne, signora, and this is," he gestured to his wife, "Jeanine, my wife."

"Pleasure to meet you, madame." She curtsied, earning a small bow of the head from her. Theresa looked to Henri, now he looked even more nervous to see them and her in the same room. Why would he? It wasn't that bad.

"Same to you," her voice was delicate and motherly. She wasn't Theresa's mother and yet her voice was soothing to her ears. Jeanine studied her for a moment, "Wait a minute, I saw your poster outside with our Henri," Henri almost scowled at our; he wasn't his Henri. Theresa nodded slowly, unsure of where this was going, but she decided to nod nevertheless. "Pleasure to meet you indeed! We meant to see the opera yesterday, but other affairs had gotten in the way."

Theresa went to reply to her, but Henri next to her interrupted her, "You still hadn't answered my question."

"Do we need to answer it?" Edmond asked curiously. Henri narrowed his eyes at him. He only just wanted to get out of here with Theresa, not be here dealing with him and his mother. Henri waited all night to do this and they weren't going to ruin it. He nodded to him. Edmond sighed before looking between them and stated, "Well, we wanted to see you. Your mother has begged me for days."

"Really?" Henri asked, no hope in his voice at all. Theresa looked over at him shocked by his tone, what was wrong with them seeing him? "You wanted to see me too? I highly doubt that, father."

Edmond visibly stiffened next to Jeanine, but she placed a hand on top of his to stop before whatever was going to happen would start. "Now, Henri," his mother started, her voice with an edge that was subtle and yet firm. "We don't need to start anything what was left unfinished. We wanted to see you because we missed you, that was all. We hadn't seen you for four years, so we only wanted to see you."

Henri stood there for a moment, unsure of how to respond. Theresa felt uncomfortable between the the three of them. She didn't feel welcomed in this business at all. Why was there so much tension that was in the room now? It was so sudden that it gave her chills up and down her spine. Henri nodded, "Well, you caught me at a bad time then." He looked at Theresa before looking at his mother. "Signora Baccelli and I were just about to leave for dinner."

"Oh," his mother's 'oh' seemed dismayed. She clearly wasn't expecting this. Henri nodded slowly. Jeanine's grey-blue eyes looked between them unsure of what to say. Now Theresa knew where Henri had gotten those mesmerizing orbs. Jeanine told him, "We wanted to take you tonight to dinner, but if—."

Edmond cut her off, his eyes seemed to get a dark look to them. "We could still take him, my love." Henri snapped to attention, he didn't bother hiding his agitated expression in front of Edmond. "And we'll take the signora also. I'm sure that they wouldn't mind at all, we did come from great ways to be with him tonight." Henri gawked at what was happening right now. Theresa didn't know what to say at all to this as Edmond looked over to her like she could have input on it. "What would you think of that, signora? I'm sure Jeanine and I would love getting to know you."

Theresa opened her mouth to answer, but she couldn't. Nothing came out. Jeanine looked between her and Henri, then to Edmond. She shook her head, "I don't know, Edmond. I would think Henri and Theresa would like to be alone."

"Nonsense, I would think that they wouldn't mind. We did come from a great way and to come here for a waste wouldn't at all be good." Henri pursed his lips, his lips threatening to curl into a scowl. No, Edmond wasn't going to ruin this. He knew that look in his eye all too well and it wasn't happening! Theresa was caught off guard when Edmond turned to her again, "Don't you agree, Theresa?"

Theresa went to reply, "Well, I—."

"The reservation is for two people," Henri said quickly to them. Theresa looked over at him abruptly, she was starting to get irritated by him since she kept getting interrupted by him. Henri didn't realize her scorching glare that was burning a hole into him, or starting to, "Two people. That would mean, one and another. Not one and another plus two."

His son had arrogance in the tone of his voice. Edmond breathed in, this wasn't something that he missed when he was home. He stated to him, "Well, I'm sure the restaurant could fit two more people on that reservation, Henri."

"They might not be so courteous. We are already late and we are going to be even more late, I'm sure, if you keep us held up."

"Henri." Theresa warned, earning only a glance her way. Before Henri could continue acting like he was a child, Theresa talked to him as if he was one, "No need to be so rash about this."

"She's right, Henri," Edmond told him. It was like he enjoyed to make Henri's patience go even lower and make him peeved off. "No need to be rash at all. We have reservations at a restaurant as well for you, so one more person would be better than adding two more."

"It's not only the reservations that are the problem," he started again. His voice getting more and more irritated as he continued, "I also have a carriage waiting for us at the stables. For two people. It would be more expensive to put two more people in it."

"You could go in our personal carriage, problem solved." Edmond stated to them. Theresa and Jeanine looked at each other. They were both clueless if they should go into it before a war would break out before them. Henri shook his head stubbornly. Jeanine sighed before giving a hopeful look to Theresa. The look in her eyes told Theresa what she must do. It was as if they said to her, 'Talk to him for us.'

Theresa looked over at him and put a hand on his shoulder before he could continue on with going back and forth, "Henri—."

He ignored her, "I can't just cancel it, I already paid for it."

Theresa gritted her teeth and through them she tried again, "Henri—."

"Not only that," he ignored her again, still ranting. "But since I paid for it, it would be a waste. And I earned it, so I'm not—."

Theresa snapped, "Henri!" The patience that was now teeming with her made her voice so loud that people who were passing by stopped to watch. Theresa narrowed her eyes at him as Henri abruptly was pulled out of whatever he was arguing about to look at her. His face was twisted with both shock and disbelief. Theresa added to him, "Henri, stop acting like a child." She paused looking at the two people with an apologetic look, "I'm sorry, excuse us for a moment." Edmond nodded to her curtly as Theresa roughly led Henri to the side.

Far to the side, too, behind a pillar. Henri surprisingly let her as he let his body go into a sudden sulk. Theresa rubbed her forehead, feeling her head suddenly ache as she had let go of him. "Henri, I think we should let them come with us or go with them," she stated, looking at him. He suddenly was stiff as a board as he looked down at her. The glare she was under by him was ignored by her. "It doesn't look like we could do anything other."

"We're not," he stated stubbornly. "I don't care how far they travelled, I don't care about why they are here, I just don't care. I have plans already and I'm not ruining them because of them."

"But I don't mind, Henri. I don't see the problem with them coming with us," said by Theresa. She put her hands on her hips as she looked at him irritated.

"No." He said to her even more firm. "Theresa, I've made this reservation a while ago for us. I am not letting them ruin it for us."

"Then we can add them on. Henri, there are going to be plenty of other nights to do this." Henri shook his head. Theresa didn't know if she could get through to him. Unless... "Henri, please," she grabbed both of his hands with hers and he looked into her eyes, "will you do this for me at least?" Henri hovered over her like he was waiting for something else that she should add. Theresa took a sigh and leaned up, removing her hands from his and placing a tentative kiss on the corner of his mouth. The slight touch made Henri's eyes widen slightly not really expecting it.

"That's not going to work, my lady," he stated his eyes looking at hers with a slight curious mischief sparking in his eyes. Theresa chuckled, but shook her head no causing Henri to frown. He muttered annoyed, "Minx."

"Am not," Theresa said defensively, taking a step back from him. Henri narrowed his eyes at her. She added, "Make it an exception this time, please?" Henri looked at her for a moment, frowning. Then he glanced at Edmond and his mother. Theresa looked at him hopeful before he rolled his eyes at her, offering his arm to her.

He flashed a fake smile to her as she placed her hand on his arm, a genuine smile crossed on her face. He stated to her, "I better not regret this later on, my dear."

Erik watched from afar, unsure of how to react. He watched there seeing Theresa and Henri walk out of the Opera Populaire together with another couple. Then he soon walked slowly away from them and to a passageway through the catacombs. Erik found himself without, realizing it, walking toward the Prima Donna's room. When he was faced with the dark setting that everything was without a single candle lit, he slowly opened up the mirror, taking a careful step out to survey the room in the dark. He smelled a sweet scent burn through the air and he manoeuvred easily through it seeing the only bright thing. It seemed bright to him.

He narrowed his eyes curiously at the black ribbon tied around the bedpost with a tender knot. He felt it in between his fingers, the black silk against his glove. Erik's green eyes roamed to the book on her bed, still opened upside down as if to hold her place. Erik looked at it for a long moment, before picking up the white rose that he had left for her the night before that was left on top of her bed. Why was it there?

His hand caressed it from the stem to the petals. The soft petals from the rose seemed to sting him through the glove like it poisoned him. And just from that, he dropped it as if it had and his lips parted in disbelief. Erik took several steps backward to the mirror, his eyes bewildered. He shook his head no, he just realized what he was starting again. History repeats itself... the words went through his mind. History couldn't repeat itself. He was not going to go through this again. She was not his Christine nor would she ever be.

Erik didn't realize how far he backed up until he had hit the mirror clumsily. He straightened himself up as he took his cloak into his hand. What had brought him to bring that rose to her again? What was the reason? He begged to know, but he couldn't find any explanation in his mind! It was starting to drive him mad. Erik gulped as he went back behind the mirror with an almost silent flap of his cape.

Thank you so much for reading! Later I'll post the character bios about Theresa and Henri because for some reason they are not on my Facebook page, and also I will post the face characters of all characters in the story. I only found a good face for Theresa, and that's about it. If you haven't liked it, please do :) I really like to talk with my fans on there. See you all next chapter!

~Tiana xoxo