Author's Note: Welcome to my latest piece of fanfiction! I would like to start off by saying that I own neither the story of the Phantom of the Opera, nor any of the song lyrics/titles that I am utilizing for this piece. I hope that everyone will enjoy this one, and I'd like to once again express my appreciation for those that read and review, and I encourage everyone to be honest in their commentary, because every little bit of criticism helps, believe me! Finally, the title for this chapter is based on lyrics from the song "Drowning Lessons" by My Chemical Romance. That said, I'll let y'all be on your way with this. Enjoy!

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Chapter 1 – Rice Grains and Roses

Christine

The recently chaotic snowstorm has finally eased into a gentle fall of quiet, unassuming white flakes. It's peaceful, so serene that in any other setting I might have actually felt calm and contented. But to watch the snow drift silently down to the grounds of Raoul's family estate below my window left me with a pang of unease that I couldn't dismiss. Such a feeling was not uncommon recently. It was all wrong; I didn't deserve such placidity, didn't want anything to do with it. The world around me didn't reflect the turmoil in the deepest part of my heart – it mocked it as intensely as my thoughts had bitten at my heart all these long weeks.

It had been snowing when he gave me that last rose. Had I known then that it would be his last sincere token of affection – not something born of desperation and given in a moment of anguish – I would never have discarded it as I had. No, not at all. Had I known then what I know now, I wouldn't have kissed Raoul in front of him, wouldn't have declared a love that I simply didn't understand, and I wouldn't have let the small flower out of my shaking hands. Erik had destroyed it in his grief; all I have left of it now is the petals that I later found broken in the snow, contrasting with the white ground as if they were the very drops of blood from the heart that I had so quickly ripped from his chest.

That night was similar to tonight in appearance only, the regret I feel now a cruel reminder of what I then had thought to be bliss. I know it wasn't necessarily that, not entirely. It was a fleeting thing, masking what I had felt all along but was too young, too cowardly to acknowledge. I was such a fool, a child too naïve and spoiled to understand what was happening all around me. Oh, how I've thought of that in all of this time.

It suddenly struck me as odd how much had happened to me – to all of us – in a relatively short amount of time. We had gone so long leading our lives separately and for the most part normally before our meeting. Hearing Erik's voice, so pure and gentle, for the first time, recognizing Raoul after so many years apart – it had all happened in a rush for which I was wholly unprepared. How my actions have tortured their hearts all this time. But then, were they so fair to me in return? I thought briefly. I sighed, wishing for a fleeting moment that none of us had ever crossed paths, were never allowed to play our cruel and desperate games against one another, intentional or not. How I wished none of us had fallen in love. It was far simpler to daydream with Meg and the other girls in the corps de ballet than to actually live through my heart's awakening.

It has been several weeks since the disaster at the Opera Populaire, since that night when my actions, compelled by a misplaced sense of revenge and justice and terror, set in motion an affair that has left us all ruined and broken in our own ways. In all these weeks I suppose I should have spent my time moving on, forgetting the voice that still haunts my dreams and that last look of love and heartbreak in its owner's eyes; I should be planning my wedding with great joy and innocent anticipation. Yet I still see Erik when I close my eyes, feel my hand in his, and all thoughts of marital bliss with Raoul strike me as more of a burden than a blessing. It makes me sick. How ungrateful must I be to feel this way?

But I cannot deny my feelings any longer, as conflicting as they are. The very idea of Erik leaves me with a sense of awe and pity, of fear and longing. So many unanswered questions, ignored pleas for understanding and hope. I want nothing more than to just see him once again, to say what I need to and accept whatever he has to say in return. I need it. If I'm perfectly honest with myself, I know I need him, and that notion leaves me scared yet oddly hopeful. This isn't the first time that thought has come to me as if from nowhere; my heart whispers to me often what I should do, what I want to do. Tonight, however, it's screaming, begging me to finally see the light.

I cannot marry Raoul, I know that now more than ever. I have to see Erik, even if doing so turns out to be the final act of our short-lived romantic tale. If I find myself an old maid with only my memories of his eyes boring into my soul, loving me without question and heartbroken that I could not return that love in time, then I shall take that fate if it means having the chance to see him one last time. I feel compelled by emotions I do not yet entirely comprehend, by a need for redemption and understanding. If I do not do this, I know I'll come to regret it in time. It's not fair to any of us to lead the life of a liar, even if the lies are only to one's own heart. But it goes beyond that; if I chose to stay with Raoul, my disservice would be not only to myself, but to him, my oldest and dearest friend – it would be a disservice to Erik to continue to deny a love that has always been in the wings.

In all of these weeks of reflection, all of this I can say without a doubt is true.

~~oOo~~

I expressed my feelings to Raoul as well as I was able the next morning. He and I sat facing each other in one of many gardens, isolated from his home and the prying eyes of his disapproving family. No one but us had ventured out that far in the hours since the snowfall ceased, and the untouched landscape was bright all around us, hills rolling gracefully into the horizon, benches and fountains covered in white as if nestled under blankets for the remainder of the winter. It gave me courage to be in that environment; I needed all the strength I could get to break off our engagement, and the cold air and startlingly blue sky seemed to say that everything would be right again once I was done; a new start.

"What are you saying, Christine?" Raoul seemed in shock when I uttered my last words.

"I can't marry you, Raoul. It wouldn't be fair. Not to you, not to any of us."

"You're seriously considering going back to him?"

"Only to speak to him."

"Then why not just do that? Seek him out, say your peace, and be done with it. I wouldn't stop you, I'd certainly want to go along to ensure your safety, but if this is troubling you, I wouldn't stop you from saying what you need to. Then you could come home and we can finally have closure."

"Oh, Raoul," I sighed, "Can't you see? It's so much more than that. I love you, but not in the way you need me to, not in the way you deserve. I love you as I would love any dear friend, someone I've known and cherished as long as you. But I don't love you in the way that a wife should love a husband. It wouldn't be fair. You deserve that life, not a lie."

"How can you be so sure, though? After all we've been through. Perhaps we need only to postpone the wedding. You especially have been through a horrible shock. Christine, are you sure you know what you're saying?" he asked gently.

"I am. I know I told you that I've been feeling many conflicting emotions, but of this I am quite certain. Postponing the wedding would only be delaying the inevitable. We'd marry, yes, but we would grow to resent one another. Our love wouldn't be sincere."

"My love for you is sincere."

"Now it is, yes, but with time, when I cannot prove to love you completely, your love will falter. You and I are only human. We cannot live lies and expect to get through to the end unscathed. I will not do that to you."

He looked at me sadly, but I knew that my words had settled in his heart. Perhaps he had known it all along, or perhaps he was simply too much of a gentleman to try and change my mind - either way, he accepted my words. I felt guilty, but it had to be done. I meant everything I said, and in telling him the truth I knew I was doing the right thing. He did deserve better than half a heart, and if I could give him the chance to find that with time, then these moments of pain would be worth it. No, it wasn't easy for me to say the words that would end us, not in the least, because I did truly have affection toward my friend. But in that sadness there was the comforting knowledge that he would be given a fair chance in life, something we should all be so lucky to find.

"It hurts to see this end," he whispered solemnly.

"I know it does, darling, I know. I'm so very sorry."

"You needn't be. Just know that I do love you. There's nothing I regret in having known you."

Tears welled in my eyes at his words; I knew they were of sincerity and not a ploy to make me feel guilty, and I was overcome by my appreciation for him, "You'll never know how much that means to me," I sighed, "I hope you know that I feel the same."

"I suppose everything happens for a reason."

"I suppose so."

"Are you sure you will be safe? Seeing him?"

"He would never hurt me. As fearful as I was before, I'm sure of that now."

"And if he rejects you?"

"Raoul, I'm not seeking to have him take me in. I just need to see him. I told you that."

"I'm just afraid. If he won't even speak to you, what will you do then?"

"It's quite alright. I'm going to arrange to stay with Madame Giry and Meg. I will never be unsafe no matter where I find myself."

He sighed, "If you're sure. But please know this. You are always welcome here."

I squeezed his hands, "Thank you. Thank you for everything."

~~oOo~~

Meg's eyes widened so comically when she opened the door to me, I had to stifle a laugh. It was an odd sensation; I had long since thought that such light emotions were lost to me.

"Christine? Is everything alright? Mama hadn't mentioned that you were coming here. Please, come in."

We embraced when I entered the small apartment, "Oh Meg, I seem to have thrown myself headlong into something I don't quite understand yet, not entirely, but I need to talk to Madame, it's quite urgent."

"What do you mean, dear? What's going on?"

"Christine?" Madame Giry called from another part of the home, "Dear child, we weren't expecting you. Has something happened?"

"I've left Raoul," I blurted out nervously, "I've broken off the engagement."

They both looked at me, so stunned at my sudden and unexpected admission that neither of them could speak at first. Madame Giry led me to their sitting room demanding further explanation in her stern, concerned way that I had grown to love after all the years living under her guidance. I told them what I had told Raoul, but the reaction was quite different indeed.

"Foolish child, do you have any idea what you're doing? All that you're giving up to see this man?"

"Madam, I do understand the gravity of the situation, but I couldn't lie to myself or Raoul anymore. It's just as I said, it wouldn't be fair to anyone involved."

"My dear, you of course may stay with us, if it is indeed true that you are no longer in love with the vicompte, but I have to put my foot down on this plan of yours. You cannot see Erik."

"Why? Please, just tell me that much. Don't I deserve this closure?"

"What exactly makes you so desperate for it?"

"Oh Madame," I said hopelessly, "It's too much to bear. So many things remain unspoken, unanswered. I need to know if he's safe, I need to see for myself. I have to know what led him to his actions. I…I have to know he's not evil," I whispered the end.

"And what concern is that of yours, Christine?" Madame Giry asked very gently.

"Because in all this time since the fire, since he escaped the mob, I have realized just how much I care for him. I've realized that I love him, and have for a very long time," Meg gasped but I continued, "I have to know who it is that I fell in love with, to give it a chance."

Madame Giry sighed again, looking defeated but giving me a knowing glance. Once I said the words aloud, she seemed to understand immediately, as if she had known longer than I had of all the feelings that I had just admitted. At long last, she agreed to take me to the place to which Erik had fled.

On the journey there, she told me all that had happened to him in the time since our separation, her involvement in his life, and what his next step would be. Hesitantly, she revealed to me that he was in a bad way, trying to numb himself yet sliding down further and further into a black depression that she feared would end in his demise. My heart ached for him as I took in her words; his tragic life had taken on that much more darkness, and I knew my involvement in it was deep. I wanted so badly to make amends as quickly as possible, to somehow reach him and pull him from the nightmare in which he now resides, yet willing the carriage to do so didn't prove to make it go any faster, much to my despair.