Phew, I've been working on this for a bit, and it is SO long! But it was sooooo fun to write! I hope you enjoy this little bit of Erik/Meg! :)

POINTLESS DISCLAIMER: You should probably figure that Phantom goes to all it's rightful owners. Meg Giry really goes credited, because his Phantom built up Meg's part. Although he destroyed any qualities in LND, but let's just drop that topic, m'kay?

Meg's Masquerade

I had entered this Masquerade feeling grand, like the princess I was dressed to be. I had my blond hair up into a bun-like style, with a headband that had feathers upon it. My dress that was covered on top with a bit of white feathers went down smoothly in a velvety white cloak. I had white gloves and a glittery white masque that I held up to my face. Altogether, I had felt like a princess of ice and snow.

But now I just felt like the princess of ice. Frozen and cold hearted, turning down ever suitor that came my way. What a way to make an impression! Something told me that waiting for that spark maybe wasn't such the best idea.

If I wasn't always so sucked into magic and mystery, with my mind set on dancing with the one man who made my heart leap, maybe I'd be laughing and twirling at this moment. But no, I had to be stubborn. I had counted, and five suitors had come to ask me for a dance. I had turned all of them down, though. Why was I so heartless?

I scanned the dance floor, and I saw the first man who had asked me to dance. I looked on regretfully to the man, who was dressed as a tiger, I believe. He wasn't all that bad looking, if it counted. He was now grinning though, sweeping a small girl with black hair in a waltz, and by the look of things, she was having a wonderful time. I frowned and crossed my arms, leaning against one of the grand marble pillars.

I had devised a test to see who would be the one to dance with, I would look in their eyes, as all my romance novels say, and there would be some connection between us. Some... spark. But so far, I was thinking of burning every romance related book I owned. This night that was supposed to be so grand, so fantastic, was being ruined! Maybe I should go back over to the man...

But he looked so happy, twirling little Miss Gorgeous-Hair, and what worse way to spend this night than not only having a horrid time, but making someone else's night worse? I may have done some admittedly foolish things in my life, but I knew enough to not make enemies over something simple as men.

So I stood there alone. I quickly looked around the room to see if there was even a chance of being asked to dance again. But my heart sank, as I slowly realised I was literally the only one who was not dancing with a partner. Even my dear mother was spinning (though not quite as quickly as some of the younger ladies) with one of the older stage hands. I wish I could blame everyone else for not giving me a chance for dancing, but I knew that it was all my fault.

I sighed and looked down from where I was, which was on top of the grand staircase. There were no lords or ladies, no Counts or Countesses to announce any longer, everyone was already inside the Opera House to celebrate, and only a few pitiful nobodies straggled inside now.

Putting my elbows and the railing and putting my head into my little pillow of arms, I searched for a face I might be able to recognise, even with the makeup, costumes, and masques. I looked over the swirling gowns and saw two of my ballerina friends, there was that ghastly Carlotta. She was frowning though, staring at someone. I tried hard to see where she was glaring at and my eyes caught onto a familiar face. It was Christine Daae.

I peered hard enough and I saw that her whole face was lit up, her eyes locked with that boy, Raoul, I believe. They seemed to be completely in love, and something in my heart stirred. It was jealousy. I looked away from her, not wanting to think badly of her. She was my friend, after all. It wasn't that I was jealous of Raoul, no, she could have him. He wasn't polite to the ballet rats anyways, he was always asking for Christine, like she was some kind of drug he had to have. No, it was just the sense of completeness that they shared. I wondered if I'd ever find someone like Christine had.

The song ended, and the dancers either kissed their partner playfully, or began clapping for the prefomers. I hoped that some of the people would come off the floor and begin to talk, Maybe come up and ask me if I wanted to dance, but the orchestra began warming up quickly. In about a minute, there would be another song, and by the excited looks on the women's faces, it would be a slower dance.

I groaned and leaned against the railing again. My dream night was turning into one of those nightmares where I couldn't do anything about it. I kicked the railing a little angrily with my white slippers. I wasn't wearing lovely heels like nearly every other lady here, mostly because they were impractical to dance as well as walk in, and there was no point to them.

I looked around one more time and my fears were confirmed. There was no man without a woman, and no woman without a man, at that. I felt my face growing red, as I was the only being in the room who was not dancing with a friend or suitor. It was not as if anyone was looking at me anyways, it wasn't as if anyone cared. Nonetheless, even if anyone looked up, they couldn't see me. I was still hiding behind one of the big stone pillars, trying to hide my shame.

I saw some of the party-goers look up suddenly, towards me. Some began pointing towards me and others were covering their mouths. I blushed even deeper and slunk down a little. Was it really that scandalous that I did not have a dance partner? But no, they didn't seem to be looking at me directly, and they couldn't see me if they'd wanted to, unless they came up the stairs. I looked around the staircase but then suddenly, to my surprise, there was someone there.

I hadn't seen this man before, in the swirling crowd of colors or not. He had a red outfit on, and a dark velvet-looking cape of the same color. He was wearing the masque of a skull, no feathers or faux jewels to decorate it. He also had some black makeup around his eyes, shielding any trace of skin around his upper face. His golden eyes darted downwards towards to crowd, looking for something. Or someone, I thought from behind my pillar.

The man scowled at something downwards and gripped the railing tightly. If it was not made of the best wood I'd ever seen, I would have been afraid of it shattering in his strong grip. I took a small inward gasp as I followed his glance towards Christine and Raoul, who seemed to be getting ready for the next dance, Raoul's hands on her hips. The stranger looked as though he wanted to murder the poor man. That's when I noticed that he was gripping a small stack of papers in his other hand. I was curious to know what it was.

I heard the orchestra stop warming up and the man looked suddenly with wide eyes around the room. I wondered if he had noticed that everyone but him and I were about to be engaged with the dance. That's when suddenly he looked directly at me. I bit my lip. He walked with a stride to me, and he was suddenly face to face with me.

"You are the last woman not dancing, are you waiting for another?" He asked somewhat impatiently. Had I known this voice? It seemed horribly familiar...

"N-no," I stuttered.

"Then you won't decline a dance, would you?" He said, holding out his hand that was covered with a black glove. I stared at it for a moment, before I cautiously placed my white gloved hand into his. He placed the papers down into a pile, before leading me down the steps in a hurry to get to the next dance. I fumbled a bit trying to get down the steps in a hurry, but thank goodness that I was graceful, if nothing more.

We ran down the steps, and the strange man had dragged me into the crowd which was just setting into their place. We stopped in what seemed a random place, and for the first time, he looked directly into my eyes. Even though I knew the trick had betrayed me before, I still searched for something.

To my great surprise, there was definitly... something. I wasn't exactly sure. Maybe a small sparkle, not enough to light a flame, but still a small hope in a dark room. Was the spark for me to ignite? I took my chance and asked him. "Before I dance with you, Monsieur, may I please know the name of the man whom I will be dancing with?"

He looked elsewhere, almost absent-mindedly. "You may call me Erik," He said, not glancing again at me. I frowned a small bit.

"Have you no last name?" I asked. He still didn't look at me.

"That is not really of your concern, is it?" He asked. I shut my mouth. This was not exactly how I had pictured my perfect night.

"Well, then, Monsieur Erik, excuse me for being so rude. My name is Meg Giry," I said, introducing myself. Was there hope for this odd man yet? He suddenly turned his head sharply towards me.

"Meg Giry?" He repeated quickly. His golden eyes glowed with curiosity suddenly and I raised an eyebrow.

"Yes," I said slowly. "But I doubt you have heard of me before. I'm not very popular here at the Opera. Nothing but a ballet rat, really." He still looked at me, but in his eyes I could tell that his surprise wasn't for a mistake, that he really did know of me.

"Excuse me, I thought I had heard the name before," He mumbled and looked back once more. I was drowning in questions when the orchestra began playing. The tune was a bit lively, not slower like I had suspected. Erik shook his head, as if coming out of a dream. He faced me once again, and took my hand. "Mademoiselle?" He placed his hand on my shoulder and my waist. I blushed a little.

He smirked a bit at my blush. "Surely this isn't your first dance of the night, Mademoiselle? I doubt I am the first to ask for a dance." I bit my lip.

"I have been asked tonight, I have denied some though," I said slowly as the music began, and we began to dance.

"Playing hard to get?" He said with a slight twinkle in his eye. I blushed even more.

"That is really none of your business, Monsieur," I said, frowning. He was quiet for a moment, probably regretting he had asked me to dance, I being so sour.

"Ah, symphony No. 40," He said after some time, startling me a little.

"What?" I asked as though he was speaking another language. He smirked a little bit.

"The song. It is one of Mozart's pieces. Symphony No. 40, this is the third movement," He said simply. My eyes grew wide.

"How could you tell?" I asked, flabbergasted. Anyone who could recognise a song and composer in just a moment or two must have been a musical genius! "Are you a composer yourself, Monsieur? Or play an instrument?" We spun around a bit quicker as the quick tempo of the song was fitting. Then the music began to grow slower and a bit more quiet.

"A composer, you might say. I play often instruments as well," He said. I raised both eyebrows, interested and impressed.

"Forgive my being nosy, but which ones, may I ask?" I said as I took a few steps in the dance. He looked happy that I was curious though, and answered eagerly.

"Well, I play the violin, the instrument most composers know as well as their hand and love as much their own children. Organ as well. Sometimes I sing," He went on. I nodded, approvingly.

"Quite the accomplishments, Monsieur Erik!" I praised. "I wish I had any musical talent at all, all I can do is dance, and not very well at that. But I am learning, and someday I wish to be the Prima Ballerina at this Opera, as most dancers here do."

"Practice, that is all that is required," He said simply. I sighed.

"If only it was that easy. I practice as much as I can, but with all the distractions here, it is hard to focus often," I said, thinking back to around three months ago, when Joseph Buquet was hung right above my head.

"Distractions?" He asked, almost with humor.

"Horrible ones, Monsieur. Have you heard of the Opera Ghost? This man, for I know he cannot be a ghost, has murdered another during the middle of a showing three months ago. The man who died fell right above me! It still haunts my dreams, seeing a man die before my eyes!" It was the truth, and I had sometimes woke up screaming, making sure I was still alive. "After that, I have often not wanted to continue dancing."

"Meg, that is but a small setback. If dancing is what brings you ultimate joy, than you will not abandon it. This... Opera Ghost, he sounds vicious. There have not been any plans against him, I suppose?" He asked.

"No, he has not shown a sign of life for three short months. He is always trying to get Christine into the lead role, for her voice is a miracle! With the measures he takes, sometimes I wish he would get me into a lead ballerina role like he does for her," I chuckled, joking. He nodded, as if thinking. He began looking once more above my shoulder, and I was ultimatly curious to see what was so interesting. I turned my head, and saw none other than Christine Daae, hand in hand with Raoul. I turned back to Erik, and his eyes were locked onto Christine as well, almost lovingly. I frowned.

"If you have any hope of dancing with Christine tonight, you might want to let it go. She's been attached to him all night, they barely take a break from dancing!" I said half angrily. Another suitor for Mademoiselle Daae? It made me furious to see her raking in men like leaves in the fall.

Erik suddenly squeezed my hands hard and I nearly cried out. "Do not say that. I'll dance with her tonight if I have to wait until dawn," the man said roughly. Where had I heard this voice before? As if in some distant dream long ago.

"Persistence seems your weapon in this battle," I commented. He smirked.

"Persistence, yes, you could say that," He said. Suddenly, my right foot was stepped on by him and I pulled it upward.

"What was that for?" I hissed. It didn't hurt very much, but I was still irritated. Even beneath the masque of the skull and makeup, I could see a faint blush appear.

"You must forgive me, I'm not much for dancing," He said, embarrassed. I smiled a little.

"Well, then with my lack of knowledge in music, and your lack of skill in dancing, I believe we can forgive each other," He still looked mildly embarrassed, but he couldn't suppress a smile.

"You must be careful, Meg. With a tongue as sharp as yours, you could cut many a suitor," He warned playfully.

"Words can be sharper than any knife," I joined in. "When carefully sharpened they can cut through any surface, including hearts." Erik suddenly looked back over my shoulder to Christine and his eyes lost some of the laughter in them. Had Christine attacked him with words before? "Have you ever talked to Christine before? Perhaps her words have hurt you once?"

He frowned, looking back to me. At first, I thought he might squeeze my hands for being so intruding, but the furry in his eyes dimmed suddenly, and pity fell over me suddenly, the sad music making the moment even more somber. "Christine... yes, she- she has hurt me before," He said.

"Is it because she is dancing with Monsieur de Changy? That is really nothing to worry about, it is what happens at these masquerades, we all dance with multiple people, not just one the whole night, surely after this song finishes, you could-" I began to say, but he interupted me.

"No, it's not just because she dances with the man. They look whole together. Christine would never dance with me, a monster. She would never even so much as glance my way, all night. It's their completeness and passion they share," He grumbled. My eyes grew wide and as my brain comprehended that he was saying what I had been thinking just minutes before, the song grew lively once more. Erik seemed to have barely a clue on how to dance with a partner, and I tried helping him. I wondered if he'd been to many masquerades in his lifetime.

"A monster?" I asked somewhat amused as I lead him to spin to the right. "Monsieur, you have no right to call yourself a monster. The only monsterous quality to you is your determination, and your grip. I see no horror before me, only a man who has his mind and heart set on dancing with the prettiest woman at this masque!" Although it was insulting myself, I said these words with truth. It really was no place of his to dub himself a monster. He looked at me with surprise.

"You... you think so?" He said, somewhat softly. I nodded, curious to know why he was so grateful for a simple compliment.

"Yes, if it makes a difference. But Christine would be a fool to not dance with you. You have some potential, I believe. You may not be the best dancer, but you make the mood light with your conversation," I smiled. "Monsieur de Changy seems like an extremely boring person to dance with. Christine would be wise to have at least one dance with you."

Was he blushing a small bit? I giggled and he smiled humbly. "Meg, you are the kindest woman I've ever talked to in all my life. Do you normally go around complimenting strangers this way? Showering me in these false accusations seems nearly a sin." I shook my head.

"Hardly is it a sin, you are as well one of the most interesting man I've talked to. Christine is lucky to have a suitor like you," I blushed. His smile faded a little and he sighed.

"Christine..." He sighed, though his voice was hinted with confusion. "You know, you are just like your mother, Meg," He said. I stopped smiling and looked at him questioningly.

"How to you know my mother?" I asked sharply. "You said you'd recognised my name before, do you work at the Opera House?"

He frowned, like he had been caught. "Never mind what I said," He mumbled.

"No, I WILL mind it! How do you know my mother?" I asked, wanting dreadfully to know what Erik had to do with my dear old mother.

"You are too straightforward for your own good," He said sharply.

"Too straightforward? So women should keep their pretty little mouths closed when spoken to at all times? What a sexist notion, for us to keep quiet! I have the right to know!" I persisted. The song slowed once more and Erik spun me around quickly so I was a small bit off balance and nearly fell.

"If you know what's good for you, you will drop the subject," He growled, his killer grip on my wrists once again. I bit my lip and closed my mouth, knowing it was a worthless battle. I was turned toward Christine and looked at her. She suddenly unlocked her tender gaze from Raoul and spotted me. She grinned and took a hand from Raoul's, waving to me. I smiled back, and nodded my greeting.

She looked curiously at the back of Erik, then at me with a questioning look, as if to ask, Who is this man you are dancing with? I blushed a little and just shrugged, to show it was not anyone that she or I really knew. She chuckled a little, but her gaze flickered back to Erik. We turned and suddenly, Erik was facing Christine. I looked up at him, but he was staring at Christine.

I turned and looked to Christine, as if to show her, See? This is him, the man who asked me to dance. But Christine didn't look at me again, for her face was pale, her cheeks hinted with pink. I turned back to Erik, who's rock solid gaze was still on Christine. Frowning, I questioned him. "She looks like she's seen a ghost!"

He chuckled darkly. "What a fitting phrase," He said, not looking my way.

"She looks..." I said, peering back at her. There was some fear on her face, but when she looked to me, there was something else that I faintly saw there. "She looks somewhat jealous!" I exclaimed to Erik.

"Jealous? Do you really think?" He asked, as if he was forming some kind of new plan. I frowned thoughtfully.

"Well, yes. She looks kind of jealous. Maybe she shall care to dance with you after all," I said, kind of hurt, really. After this song, the stranger Erik would abandon me for the night, sweeping Christine up into his arms, sharing endless dances with her. I was left with no one, but maybe another stranger. Maybe I would find another man to dance with.

The song came to a close suddenly, and some of the people started clapping. I saw Raoul take Christine and kiss her passionately. It made me want to coo and to throw up at the same time. But Christine didn't look like she felt as happy as Raoul, and she was still staring at Erik. It made me angry, really, that Christine could not be satisfied with one man!

Erik seemed to notice them too, and I could feel by his tense hands that he was jealous of their shared kiss as well. He suddenly look at me, a newfound spark in his eyes. "Let's see how jealous Christine can get," He said. Before I knew it, suddenly he had swept me up and his lips met mine.

My eyes grew as wide as they could, and I reached to push the man away, but found that not only I couldn't (for his insanely strong grip on my arms would not allow me to move) but I did not want to move. For the moment, the rushing of the masquerade, jealousy on parts of Christine and I, and life in general died, and there was nothing but him and I. This man I had known for but a few minutes was now all there was to life itself.

I closed my eyes, forgetting that I was in the middle of everyone I knew and others, including Christine. Wrapping my arms around Erik's head and pulling myself closer, I kissed back. This was my first kiss before... was I doing it right? Oh, God, I didn't know what was happening.

He suddenly pulled away from me quickly, staring with some surprise at me, like he was amazed that he had just kissed me. I blushed and looked down, away from him. He let go of my arms and said softly, "I'm sorry." I looked back up.

"No!" I said, grabbing one of Erik's sleeves. "No, please, do not be, monsieur. I..." I couldn't find any words I could say that would be apropriate for the moment. I looked back up at the man, and saw on his face something like confusion, mixed up, almost sad. "You would not run from a girl you have given her first kiss?"

He was silent for a moment, and slowly I began to remember that he had just been dancing with me to get to Christine. The kiss was... was just to make her jealous. I let go of his sleeve slowly, regretfully. "Oh, I'm sorry. I... I should not... I should leave you alone." I turned around and began walking away.

I thought I had heard him call to me and turned excitedly, but I couldn't see him anywhere. My heart felt heavy as I made my way through the buzzing crowd, bustling with couples and friends. I made it to a small, nearly unpopulated area and leaned against the wall, holding my head and trying to figure what had happened. Suddenly there was a hand on my shoulder and I shrieked, turning to face Christine.

I sighed, letting my heart slow. "Oh, it's just you," I said, smiling. But she wasn't smiling. She was frowning with anger, and possible worry.

"Meg Giry, what were you thinking?" She hissed to me. Surprised, I didn't say a word, so she went on. "Do you have any idea of what you did out there?"

I shook my head. "I... I was just dancing..." I said.

"Do you know who you were dancing with?" She whispered desperatley. Confused, I slowly shook my head a no. "You just danced and shared A KISS with the Opera Ghost!"

My head suddenly started spinning. The Opera Ghost! My hand went up quickly to my mouth, not in only naturally because of the shock, but also because not five minutes ago, the Phantom of the Opera had his lips there. Christine looked horrified, but there was also some kind of fire I could see in her eyes. My curiousity overcame my surprise and I questioned her.

"Wait a moment, Christine. If you knew it was the Opera Ghost, why did you not stop him from dancing with me? You could have had his caught, and hung like any other murderer!" I asked her. She opened her mouth, then thoughtfully closed it, her cheeks turning barely a shade of pink. "Christine, you are not in love with the Phantom, are you?"

She quickly shook her head, angrily. "No, of course not! Meg Giry, don't be so stupid!" I frowned at her unkind words.

"Who's the stupid one, really? You like the Phantom, and I could have been-" I stopped, as something coming from her neck glimmered up at me and caught my attention. I gasped. It was a golden ring. And engagement ring, for certain! Had... had the Phantom proposed to her? My heart suddenly sank. Christine was in love with the Phantom, that's why she was angry with me. Because I had just shared my first kiss with her husband to be. "What is that?" I whispered.

Christine's face paled. "Meg, I was going to tell you-" She said quickly, but suddenly Raoul came up behind Christine, grinning. She saw Christine with her hand on her ring, and I was worried he would see it and freak out. But he just grinned even bigger.

"Hello, Mademoiselle Meg, are you having fun tonight?" He asked me, his hand around Christine. Confused, I answered back cautiously.

"Yes, it's but a very interesting night," I said slowly. Christine nervously smiled, but with her eyes, was shooting me some kind of warning. Giddy with anticipation, Raoul gave me a big smile.

"So Christine has told you? That we are engaged?" He said with a stage-whisper. Christine bit her lip as I gave her a surprised look.

"Yes," I said slowly. "I am very happy for the both of you, when shall you make the engagement public?" I asked. He shrugged.

"My dear wife-to-be Christine does not feel like going public yet, most likely due to the fact that becoming a Viscountess is stressful enough, without all the publicity," He said, unaware of Christine's lip biting.

"Raoul," She said softly with warning. "Why don't you go request Vivaldi's Spring?" She asked sweetly. I looked at her though before Raoul could respond.

"No, Christine, it's quite alright. As much as I do love Vivaldi, I will leave you two. I believe I should check on my mother, anyways," I lied, walking away, and throwing Christine a kind of betrayed glance. How long had the two been engaged? Why had she not told me yet?

I walked around the corner, away from the party and down into a hallway where there was no one. I heard the band strike up again and laughter coming from the party. I sat down to think.

Christine was engaged to Raoul, and she would eventually become the Viscountess. On normal terms, I would be extremely supportive and excited for her, but why she had not made the announcement suddenly made sense. Christine was seeing the Phantom as well! I made a noise of disgust to myself. Of course she wouldn't announce it! Erik, if that was his real name after all, would find out and probably murder another man, or woman even.

Erik, I thought, the name blocking out all other thoughts. What had really happened? I knew I had been used by him, to get to Christine, he had hoped. But that kiss... the kiss. It had seemed so pure, so genuine. Like there WAS no Christine in his life. Come to think of it, I had been talking to him about himself without I in the knowing it was he. I had said I wished he would prefer I over Christine more than once, and I was not dead.

'Meg, you are the kindest woman I've ever talked to in all my life', he had said. My heart began beating quickly again. He had not gone off to dance with Christine, in the end. He had gone off. To where? I thought. I sat down and sighed. Could it really be true that I was in love with the Phantom of the Opera. But there was an even bigger burning question.

Was he in love with me?

I'm in love with Erik/Meg! Hehe.

Symphony No. 40 belongs to Mozart, who is dead.

Vivaldi's Spring belong's to Vivaldi, who is also dead.

Gotta love dead guys. Like LeRoux! Haha!

Best Wishes,

Aktress.