I'm back, y'all! I don't know if anyone is around that actually read this story in the decade since I last updated it (you heard me, DECADE). I had actually forgotten about it, but I was cleaning out some documents from my old laptop in preparation for the new one when I came across it, remembered how much I liked it and decided I should write some more. I'm a much more adulty-adult now and I haven't written anything other than work emails in a long time, so I'm sure the tone will be different, but really it's the same dopey Phantom dribble as before. If anyone reads it, cool, just forgive me any errors please. I am QUITE rusty. Maybe I'll actually finish it this time...

The day had finally arrived, much to Adrienne's chagrin. Don Juan Triumphant was to premier tonight, and the entire opera was a swirling hive of anxious activity. Everyone from the star singers on down to the washer women felt the pressure to make this performance as perfect as possible. To do otherwise, they thought, would to be to court the wrath of the opera's infamous composer. It was mid morning, shortly after the ballet company finished their rehearsal, that Meg Giry made her way up the many staircases to her friend's tiny, attic bedroom.

She opened the door to find Adrienne sitting on the floor in front of her trunk folding clothes. Tears stained her face, and there were bags under her eyes from a sleepless night. Meg had never seen her friend, usually so strong and composed, looking this weak and sad before, not even the morning she had told Meg about the Phantom.

"Adrienne, what are you doing?" The sad, dark girl looked up at the tiny ballerina.

"Packing. I cannot stay here. I will not be there when the trap is sprung, I cannot be party to this destructive plan." Meg gingerly sat next to her friend and placed a hand on her arm. Adrienne stopped folding, looked at her lap and began to cry again.

"You still haven't spoken to him?" Adrienne shook her head.

"No. He has not come to me and I will not seek him out. He knows how I feel about this. I told him I would not stay to witness this madness."

"But does he REALLY know how you feel?" Adrienne shot a look at Meg through glassy, red eyes.

"Of course not! What good could that possibly do?" Meg shrugged hopelessly and shook her head.

"I don't know. From what little I know and what little you've told me he seems to be fixated on this course of action." She began to nervously twist the edge of her skirt in her hands. "I just hoped there would be some way to avoid whatever disaster is going to follow tonight's performance." Adrienne took Meg's tiny fingers in her larger, stronger hands.

"I know, Meg. I don't see any way out of it, though. So, I must go." Meg nodded and stood.

"I understand. Let me know if you think of anything I can do to help. I do wish you'd tell Armande what is going on, he is so worried about you." Adrienne shook her head slowly and swallowed hard.

"I can't tell him, he'd only do something stupid and get himself caught up in the danger." Meg sighed, bent over and wiped her friend's eyes with the back of her fingers before kissing her on top of the head. She turned and left the room.

Adrienne sat for a moment, staring at the floor, before putting the last of her things in her trunk. She closed and locked the old, battered piece of luggage before rising to her feet and pushing it towards the door. She had not found a new position that would allow her to start work as soon as she would have liked, but she was determined that she would not be in the building when the show began. Her things were packed and ready, so that when the time came she could have her trunk easily sent for. She patted herself on the cheeks to try and perk herself up before walking determinedly out of the tiny bedroom.

As the door closed, a plank in the wall slid out of place. The Phantom stood with his arms crossed, scowling as he looked down at the stubborn girl's trunk. He wondered what Meg had meant when she asked Adrienne if he knew how she felt. Of course he knew, he thought angrily to himself, she had made her position very clear after the masquerade. He had not spoken to her or allowed her to even see him in the two months since, which was fairly easy to do as she had stopped searching him out. He winced slightly as he thought of their last encounter. It unsettled him how much he found he missed talking with her. She had become his first and only real, authentic source of human contact and it pained him to admit that things were different somehow now that that was gone. For a moment, his thoughts flashed to her angry, fiery eyes mere inches from his as they stared each other down after that last argument. The Phantom shook his head and pulled himself back to the present. He kicked the trunk and grunted before grabbing the handle and pulling it behind him into the passageway.

The sun was low in the sky, a warm glow creeping into the lobby of the opera from the square outside. Gas lamps around the building were lit one by one as everyone began to move to their posts for the evening. Preparations were complete, the only thing left now was the performance itself. Adrienne stood silently at the top of the stairs leading down to the lobby. Her hair was braided and pinned to the back of her head, she wore a dark shawl and carried a small bag containing just a few, essential items. She breathed deeply, counting the exhalations as she willed herself to walk down the stairs towards the door.

"So you are leaving after all?" A voice drifted out of the shadows in the alcove behind her. Adrienne shuddered as the hairs on the back of her neck and her arms stood up.

"I told you I was leaving. I do not say things that I don't mean," she said quietly, sadly, without turning to face the voice. "Please, Erik, whatever you have planned, don't do it." A single tear threatened to escape the cage of her dark eyelashes and roll down her cheek. "She doesn't love you or truly even appreciate you, this will not be worth it for you. You know these things, deep down I know you do. Why go forward?" Behind her, the Phantom laughed slightly to himself. The sound was not one of merriment, though, but was instead one of resigned sadness.

"Because I must. There is nothing else for me." At this Adrienne whipped her head around and glared at him over her shoulder. He raised his eyebrows, surprised at the intensity of the anger in her eyes.

"Nothing else for you? Nothing!?" The anger turned to sadness as the tears began to fall in earnest. I wish you the best, Erik, though I do not think that it was you will get". Adrienne turned, suppressing a sob. "Good luck with your opera. It really is magnificent, you know." Erik started to take a step towards her before stopping himself. Adrienne raised her head and tightened her grasp on her bag before walking down the stairs, across the lobby floor and out into the warm glow of the Parisian twilight. He watched her as she walked determinedly across the square, never once looking back, until she disappeared out of his sight. He stood for a moment before setting his jaw and turning back into the passageway from which he had come. The girl was gone, and he had business to attend to.