A/N: OH. MY. RAMIN! I AM SO SORRY PEOPLE! My internet was not paid for- for a friggin long time! But fear not! I have written out the next 12 chapters and will try to have those posted through the week. So! Erik has begun packing before he moves to Boucherville to visit some old family friends. And his trusty side kick Daroga is there to help!

Erik

Not everything would be able to come with me on my journey. I had to pick and choose everything that came with me, and the rest I had to leave behind, and most likely burn. I couldn't bear the thought of anyone finding trails of my belongings. There would be no proof; no evidence, or record for that matter, that I ever existed here in Paris. That is of course, outside of my victims who survived my rage. And they wouldn't dare speak a word, and knew the consequences' if they did. It was nice to be in control. To have power. I had worked so hard to obtain it as a Gypsy in my youth, and while working in Persia, and now that I was older I could just hang it over their heads with the thought of me. Death was at their door. Christine and her precious Raoul would not live to let the truth breathe into the streets of France.

I walked into my music room to gather up any music that seemed necessary, though in reality, most of that room consisted of angrily crumpled disasters that had piled up over the years. Though there was a glass case on top of my organ that I kept all of my finished, decent compositions in. I decided to simply fold up the scores and set them aside to pack. Other than that, I started remembering all the work that went into the room just from singing. So much soul seeped through the cracks in the walls, memories were substituting for oxygen. All those nights I stayed up with Christine, until she hit that note just right. All of my time wasted. I abruptly left the room, slamming and locking the door behind me before I would start to remember, and regret the choices I was making. I turned to find my Persian friend, who was taking on a more parenting role as time and youth drained from him. He was walking down the stairs, carrying loads of my things with him. He seemed to be losing his balance, and was trying to look down at his feet, which had disappeared from his view. After a moment of him struggling to get to the bottom of the stairs, and my watching, being rather inwardly amused he set the boxes in front of my threshold. I was giving a friendly laugh by then, though he wouldn't return one. This was out of character for him. I had always gotten a laugh or a smile out of him in the worst of times. Why was he ignoring my silent plead for comic relief now? He stared at me, his eyes filled with some concern that was unknown to me. A few grey strands fell into his face and I began to wonder how much longer it would be before I myself would become so old.

"Erik, what are you going to do with Christine's room?"

"Are you thirsty, Daroga?" I had been avoiding anything that had to do with her all day, all week we had been packing up and getting ready to leave. Though, Nadir knew my games.

"Erik, I am not going to go through her room for you. That is one room you need to do yourself."

"Should I pack a heavy coat? I can't say I remember the weather, it was so long ago. Mother never let me outside anyways."

"Erik."

I bowed my head in surrender, I promised Nadir that he would be my conscience, and whatever he said, for the most part, was law. I dragged my feet up the stairs as I did when I lived with my mother all those years ago. I stomped down the hall, passing by my smaller drawing room with the fire place and turned to the hall that held her room. I knew there was no need to go down the hall that led to my own chamber. Everything valuable to me was hidden in my sleeves and had been all week. I cautiously opened the door. The hinge squeaked just the slightest out of minor disuse, and her sent aired out and hit me. I walked in and took a look around, finding everything in place, as if she were still living here. A used tea cup sat on the night stand, her bed was messily made, she never cared to properly make her bed, and a desk with used writing paper sprawled on a desk I had picked out for her. I gave a shrug of indifference.

"I can just burn the whole room," I carried my voice downstairs. I picked up a few of the papers, skimming through. "There's nothing here I really… need."

It was her diary. I sat down and began reading, starting from day one and moving through her stay. Day one: …There is no angel of music, Only Erik! I have been fooled all…. Day Six: How I wish that Raoul would leave me alone! I am trying to be polite, and I will go out to dinner with him from time to time, but now that I am taking on more roles, I am stressed and there is no time for him,… Day 7: …..and I don't understand why my angel is with me. Day 14: …..I have decided that I am running away. Erik has hurt my heart, and Raoul is promising to mend me up! He has proposed to me!

I stopped reading through her thoughts. I had spent hours reading her life, and my heart began to ache. I let my eyes rest and began to whisper a prayer.

"Dear God! How could you tempt me with this curiosity! I do not wish to feel this pain anymore! Erik has tried, has he not? Trying wasn't good enough, I let her go. Yes, I let her go, I had to! She was no more use to me. She did not love me anymore, and Surely I did not love her either. Help me have the strength! Help me say good bye!"

Erik wants to move on! And he needs help in doing so! Nadir has helped him pack and that was the last time we see anyone living under the opera house! Say good bye to what you know. Next chapter, Christine is going dress shopping , and is HIGHLY confused. Next time we hear from E, Nadir is helping settling into Erik's childhood house in Boucherville!