Disclaimer: Nah-uh.

How horrible am I? I ask you guys to review so I'll update faster, and it's been what? Over two months since I last updated! And I got six reviews. SIX! I love you guys so much!

I'm so terribly sorry that it's been so long, it's been so crazy. I would write about a paragraph of this chapter and then I have to run off to do something. So it was slow going, but it's finally here! Yay!

And just to clear up any confusion Meg is going to be staying in France, she's not going to England with Madame Giry.

This chapter is dedicated to my six groovy reviewers: Phantomette of the Opera, Maska, Brit, A.O., musiclife, and OnerousOrangutang! You guys are absolutely amazing!

Please read and review! I promise I'll update faster this time!

Hansom Cab: Basically a horse and carriage taxi.

Chapter 4

The World Renowned Opera Populaire…

xxxxx

The silence that surrounded me in the auditorium was deafening. I kicked some debris from the stage as I stood with my hands behind my back and looked out at all the empty velveteen seats. As I stood there I realized the irony of it all. All I had wanted was to be left alone, and now I was alone with not even a single rat for company. And I longed for someone, anyone. I had never realized that without the residents living there, the Opera House was quite lonely. I had prepared myself for the thought of Christine rejecting me and leaving me to my world of darkness, but I had never thought that the Opera House would leave me behind also. Now all that was left was this empty shell of a theater. I had taken for granted all the people that worked and lived there, and even if they hadn't believed in my existence, they had always reminded me that there was a world out there, even if I wasn't part of it. I at least knew, subconsciously, that I wasn't alone. After the fire time seemed to have become suspended; watching, waiting, reminding me of the life I wasn't living…

-----

"Here you go, mademoiselle. Monsieur Andre's house." Percy said as he helped me out of the carriage.

"Merci, Percy." I said as the carriage drove off. I gazed up at the house, which I thought resembled something more like a manor, and noted that it looked like rain. I subconsciously tidied my appearance as I waited for the butler to answer the door.

The night before as I tossed and turned in bed after my cup of tea with Maman I had resolved not to let some silly man that goes by the name of 'The Opera Ghost' destroy my life. For it was his fault that the Opera House had burned down, therefore making Maman search for work elsewhere, therefore making her leave me in Paris as she goes gallivanting off to England.

I wasn't at all bitter. Honestly.

So the plan to talk to Monsieur Andre had been conceived. I would visit with him and have my hopes reinforced. He would tell me that Monsieur Firmin and himself already had plans in motion to reopen the Opera House with a wonderful new opera, pat me on the head, and send me on my way. I would return home, tell Maman the news, and she would "regretfully decline the position of ballet teacher" for Monsieur Cameron's daughter, and all would be well.

Now here I was, waiting for the door to open to Monsieur Andre's house.

"Bonjour, mademoiselle." Said the butler as he opened the door. "How may I help you?" He asked as he gave me a small bow.

"Bonjour, I'm Mademoiselle Giry, and I was hoping for an appearance with Monsieur Andre today." I said with a polite smile. He opened the door wider to let me in, and leaving me in the entrance hall, walked off to inform Monsieur Andre of my arrival. Some minutes later the butler returned and lead me through the house to a set of doors, and knocked slightly. A gruff "Enter" came from the other side. Monsieur Andre stood when I entered as the butler gave a slight bow, introduced me, gave another slight bow, and left.

"Ah, Mademoiselle Giry, so good to see you again." He motioned to a chair for me to sit in, "What can I do for you?" Monsieur Andre took his seat and poured me a cup of tea.

"Merci," I said as I accepted the offered teacup. "Well, Monsieur Andre," I said without any pretense, "I am here to inquire as to when you and Monsieur Firmin plan on reopening the Opera House. You see my mother has the strange idea that you do not plan on reopening the Opera House…" I trailed off. The confident reply of "Well, we plan to have construction on the Opera House starting within a week or two, and then we'll begin rehearsal for a new opera" was not to be found. In fact, I received no reply at all except for the measured stare that Monsieur Andre was giving me. I tried not to fidget under his gaze as I waited for his answer. The quiet ticking of a clock somewhere in the room only added to my discomfort. As the seconds stretched on I began rambling. "You know how much we all love the Opera House and I'm certain that I speak for everyone when I say that--"

"As it is, Mademoiselle Giry," Monsieur Andre cut me off, "Monsieur Firmin and I have no plans for reopening the Opera House."

"But, why?" I sputtered indignity.

"Because mademoiselle, it was a bad business venture on our part and we do not wish to lose any more money."

"But you won't lose any more money!" I argued.

'It's the Phantom!' I thought. 'Why else would they refuse to try and make more money?'

"The Phantom's dead, he can't torment the Opera House anymore!" I exclaimed, hoping I was a convincing liar. For I certainly didn't think that he was dead.

"That may very well be true, but we'd rather not risk it."

"But what about me—the corps de ballet, everybody?" I asked, desperate.

"I am truly sorry, but both Monsieur Firmin and I would gladly recommend you to any other theater."

My mind was racing. How could they not reopen the Opera House? My home? That couldn't be it. There had to be another way for me to get the Opera House reopened. Appeal to their business sense? Promise them the making of more money? But how? With the Opera House in ruins it would take all their fortune and more to rebuild, and then we'd have to have an opera so amazing that people would gladly spend large amounts of money buying tickets.

An idea filtered through my mind, but I pushed it aside quickly. It was impossible. The Phantom almost killed me the last time I saw him, why in the world would he want to help? He wouldn't. Simple as that. But what if I could convince him? Preposterous. I had not the slightest idea as to how to appeal to his sense of business either.

'But if you did, it could work,' a tiny voice in the back of my head insisted. 'Nothing bad will come of just asking him.' It continued to argue.

'Except for the fact that he might kill me,' I argued back.

'He won't kill you.' The voice continued.

'No, he'll just threaten to.'

I could hear the voice laughing at my cowardice. 'Maybe. But maybe not.'

"What if you had a new opera that was guaranteed to sell seats?" I rushed out. "Would you reopen it?" Monsieur Andre stared off into space as if considering it.

"Perhaps. Depends on how many seats it would sell. But it doesn't matter because we don't have such an opera." Monsieur Andre said in slow, measured words.

"But if you did?" I pushed.

"Perhaps, mademoiselle, perhaps."

For next few minutes Monsieur Andre carried on a conversation (mainly with himself) about dull things that men are suppose to talk to women about; weather, a new neighbor moving in across the street, and such.

Finally, once I had finished my tea, I bid Monsieur Andre a good day, claiming I had other errands to attend to.

"The Opera Populaire, please." I directed as I climbed into the carriage. I was determined to see that opera house alive and thriving again, and so help me God, nobody was going to stop me.

-----

Maman had an appointment to meet with Madame Romilly in the afternoon and had bid me not to keep the carriage all day, so after being driven to the Opera Populaire I ordered the carriage home to take Maman on her errands for the day, planning on walking the distance to our apartment once I had talked with the Phantom. But I soon realized that it would take more than my sheer determination to get to the Phantom.

I let out a cry of frustration and kicked the wall as yet another board refused to budge. They had boarded up the Opera Populaire. Not a single soul would be able to get in unless they possessed the strength of one of those men in the circus that could lift two tons, which I certainly couldn't do. I had been slowly circling the Opera House for the better part of an hour trying to find a loose board that I could pull out. But, as I came to realize, they were resolved not let anyone in there. Or let anyone out, maybe.

I slid down the wall to the ground, leaned my head back against the wall and closed my eyes. I'd have to start heading home soon as it was getting to be evening, and walking the streets of Paris, un-chaperoned, was dangerous enough, but walking them in the dark wasn't just dangerous, it was asking for all kinds of trouble. Part of my mind argued that I should just go back home and try again another day, but the other side of my brain knew that if I headed back now I'd manage to talk myself out of meeting with the Phantom, and at that moment in time he seemed to be my only way of bringing the Opera House back to what it use to be.

I snapped my eyes open as I felt a rain drop land on my head. The sky had darkened considerably since I'd been at Monsieur Andre's house and a light rain began to fall. I stood up convincing myself that a little rain never hurt anybody and continued my inspection of the Opera House's boarded up windows.

As I came around the back to the kitchen entrance and stables thunder roared in the distance and the light rain turned into a heavy downpour. I let out a groan and ran towards the kitchen door hoping maybe they had subsequently forgotten to lock and board it, but I had no such luck. Now thoroughly soaked and only getting wetter I ducked into the stables. I kicked a nearby crate and fought the urge to let out a scream of irritation as lighting streaked across the sky. It seemed that all the world was against the reopening of the Opera Populaire! I couldn't even get in, how was I suppose to convince the Phantom and Messieurs Firmin and Andre that the Opera Populaire deserved to be reopened?

I dropped onto the crate and pulled my cape tighter around me, trying to keep out the chill that being wet usually brings, and prayed that the storm wouldn't last.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk, mademoiselle," a voice said behind me. I jumped up, knocking the crate over, and spun around expecting to find a bandit seeking shelter from the rain wielding a knife. But I found nobody. "I would think that you'd have more sense than to wander the streets of Paris alone without a chaperone." I started turning slowly in a circle trying to find where the voice was coming from, but stopped short when I came face to face with the Opera Ghost himself. I let out a gasp in surprise and backed up remembering our last meeting, thinking, not for the first time, that this was not the best idea. "But then again you are nothing but a ballet rat and sense is not a common trait among such vermin."

"M-mo-monsieur," I stuttered.

"Why are you here?" The Phantom hissed out.

"I-I wis-sh--" I stopped, closed my eyes, and let out a breath slowly, calming myself, then started again. "I wish to talk with you about certain things concerning the Opera Populaire." My voice was almost as cold as the Phantom's.

The Phantom took a step toward me as I took a step back. "You wish to talk with me about certain things concerning the Opera Populaire?" The Phantom repeated in a high voice, mocking me.

"Yes." I said, my voice hard as steel. The Phantom took another step towards me in a predatory way, and I started getting the feeling that I was prey being trapped in a corner. "Well, you see, Messieurs Firmin and Andre seem to have no intention of opening the Opera House again, but I need to have it reopened, otherwise Maman will teach this brat in England and leave me here, and I can't allow that to happen, so we need to get the Opera House running again as soon as possible…" I trailed off, realizing that I'd been rambling.

The Phantom regarded me as if I belonged in the circus, which I probably did, or an insane asylum. I jumped as thunder sounded above us, followed quickly by a flash of lighting. A silenced descended upon us with only the rain hitting the roof as a source of sound. As the seconds ticked by, the Phantom continued to stare at me strangely, until finally, after what felt like an eternity of being scrutinized, a slow, mocking, callous laugh escaped the Phantom's throat.

"Are you saying that you want me to help you restore my Opera House? Help the people that wanted me killed?" His asked this with such fury and such condescension that I felt like a small child being told the sky was blue. He gave another small, heartless chuckle before continuing. "Mademoiselle, you are sadly mistaken if you think that I would ever want to help you." The Phantom had expected me to be embarrassed and to turn and run away, back to Maman and the safety of our apartment, but I was too angry to be embarrassed.

"Oh, stop acting like the world is out to get you! Here you are, angry about being pre-judged, but you won't even listen to what I have to say!" I walked towards the Phantom, leaving only a little more than a foot between us and jabbed a finger at his chest. "You won't even listen to what I have to say! You're judging me before I've even told you my plan!" I jabbed my finger at his chest again. "You, monsieur, are a hypocrite!" I crossed my arms over my chest and gave him a smug look, feeling quite victorious.

I expected the Phantom to throw a fit of some kind but he merely looked down at his chest where I had poked him, dusted off the area as if I had left filth there, and looked back up at me with a hard look.

"Do not touch me again, mademoiselle."

Or else.

The unsaid threat hung in the air between us. I shifted from one foot to the other, uncertain as how to continue.

"I was thinking--" I stopped.

'Maybe it would be better to appeal to his vanity.' The voice nagged.

"I need an opera." I started again. "I need one that will sell to Messieurs Firmin and Andre. It needs to sell seats. It needs to appeal to Messieurs Andre and Firmin 's fondness for profit. It needs to be extraordinary." I locked eyes with the Phantom and dared him to look away. "In a sense, I need you." I watched the Phantom, hoping for a reaction. I don't know why I cared, but I wanted to see him react to my words. He didn't. "You are the only person I could think of that would be able to write something spectacular. You have the talent. You have the genius. You have--"

"The name?" The Phantom spat. "That's what you really want, isn't it, mademoiselle? To have an opera with the words 'Composed by The Opera Ghost' written beneath the title?" Here he gave a little laugh that made my blood run cold. "Oh yes, that will sell many seats. People will kill to see an opera written by the Opera Ghost himself. Am I right, mademoiselle?"

In truth, that thought had never crossed my mind.

"Passion. You have the passion. That's what I was going to say. Before I was rudely interrupted." I mumbled the last part. The anger seemed to drain a little from the Phantom's face. "And besides," I continued, "who would want to go see an opera by you when the last one turned out so monstrous." I laughed a little at my own joke, thinking I was fairly witty, before I saw the Phantom's humorless face and turned my laugh into a cough. "Anyway, you wouldn't have your name on it. Most seem to think you're dead, so I can see why you'd want to remain anonymous. Nobody would have to know you wrote it."

"And what would I get from this bargain?" Ah yes, hadn't thought that far yet. But the Phantom now seemed willing to listen to what I had to say.

"Well… what do you want?" I questioned uncertainly.

"That is a very dangerous bargain to make, mademoiselle." He admonished.

"It's a bargain that I am willing to make." I said matter-of-factly. "Give me an opera and I'll give you something you want." I held out my hand, ready to shake it with the Phantom's, willing to make such a bargain.

Nothing changed on the Phantom's face but his eyes held bewilderment and disbelief. His gaze trailed from my eyes down to my extended hand then snapped back up to my eyes again. "No." He stated.

My extended hand went limp and my jaw slackened. "Excuse me, monsieur?"

"No." A smirk graced the Phantom's face. "I like my solitude. I don't need a little ballet rat ruining it just because her darling mother is leaving her behind and getting on with her life."

I was shocked; I thought that I had actually convinced him to help. "But surely monsieur there must be something you want!"

"There are many things I want, mademoiselle." The Phantom mumbled and turned to watch the rainfall.

"I can get it for you! Money? Food? Anything!" I exclaimed. I wouldn't let him say no. I needed an opera. I needed his help.

"Your naiveté is endearing, mademoiselle, but I am not lacking in either money or food." He said quietly.

"Then what?" I pushed.

"You do not think before you speak, mademoiselle. If we made this bargain there are many things I could ask you to do. And you'd be bound to do it. The Opera Ghost never forgets a deal."

"And I'd honor that deal." I said as I walked into his line of vision.

"Would you now? What if I told you to kill somebody? Christine? Your mother? Yourself?" I shuddered at the thought and at the cold look in his eye. "Or something worse?" At that he raked his eyes over my body, and I didn't need to be told twice what he was implying. I took a deep, calming breath, convincing myself that he was just trying to scare me.

"You wouldn't do that." I said trying to sound collected, even though my voice cracked on the last syllable.

"How would you know, mademoiselle?" He said as he pushed passed me and walked out into the pouring rain.

"But, I need your help, monsieur!" I yelled at his back. He kept walking and I raced after him. I slipped and landed in the mud, slowing me down, and by the time I had caught up with him he had reached the front of the Opera House. A sneer rose to his face as he took in my muddied appearance.

"Monsieur," I begged as he turned and walked down the street and turned a corner. Not a soul was in sight due to the weather, and I wondered where he could be going. He stopped at the corner of the next street that was extremely busy with carriages passing back and forth. "Please, monsieur." I begged again as I came to stop beside him, slightly out of breath. With my tight corset I wasn't use such exertion in it.

The Phantom gave my appearance another once over before pulling a fedora from his cape and placing it on his head so that it covered all of his mask and most of the other side of his face in shadow. "I suggest, mademoiselle, that you go home before you catch ill." And stepping onto the busy street he raised his hand and hailed a Hansom cab. The driver seemed to be trying his hardest to stay dry, even though he wasn't doing a very good job.

I stepped over to the Phantom; I was enraged. "So is that all you're going to say?"

Completely ignoring me, he handed the driver a pouch of francs and said, "Take the lady to whatever destination she desires." And before I could object he grabbed my hand and thrust me into the carriage.

I opened my mouth to berate the Phantom, but not a sound would come out. I couldn't think of a single thing to say.

Upon seeing me speechless the Phantom gave a small, mocking bow and said, "Good day, mademoiselle." Turning to the driver he gave a slight nod of the head, and then slapped the horse's backside, sending me down the street, with nothing to do but turn and look out at the retreating form of the Phantom.

xxxxx

Tsk tsk tsk. What are we going to do with Erik? Wallowing in self-pity and being so stubborn, I don't know how Meg will fall in love with him like that…

Maska: Can I just say how jealous I am of you? I would kill to live in London! Thanks for pointing out my geography problems. I went back and fixed them. Monsieur Cameron now lives near Parliament and Big Ben! Thanks for all your reviews! And I don't mind the nit picking at all, so you can nit pick all you want!

I hope everybody enjoyed this chapter! Please review! I need those reviews! I need them like I need oxygen! So please review!

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