Okay, so, umm…hi. I know it's been a while. Welcome to all newcomers, and welcome back to those who waited for me so diligently! You cannot know how much it means to me for you to wait and send the encouraging reviews—I never thought this story was that good, but some of you clearly adore it and it's astounding to me. THANK YOU. I know I've been on hiatus far longer than I originally scheduled…my sincere and humble apologies. I've kind of been on a writing break and only recently started to tentatively get some stuff out again. However! I now have most of the story planned out, at least mentally. So hopefully you can look forward to updates once a week or so!

Disclaimer: I do not own Phantom of the Opera, Love Never Dies, the book Phantom, or anything Phantom-related. I do have an original cassette recording of PotO with Michael Crawford and Sarah Brightman, but that doesn't give me the rights.

Chapter 17

Raoul paced in his cell. He always paced in his cell.

"Watch the madman run, eh, monsieur?" he asked the guard in French, who either didn't understand or chose to ignore him. He chuckled, continuing his relentless pace. Anyone could sense the tension contained inside his frame, and virtually everyone who even briefly came in contact with the Viscount avoided it for fear of getting hurt. Raoul growled and kept pacing.

His two companions were nowhere to be found, and according to that Persian they had gone back to France. The Viscount was incredibly enraged at this clear display of cowardice and mutiny, but it was no matter—he would continue his revenge himself. After all, he wasn't about to give up so easily—he had suffered through the Phantom's mazes and his lair and that infernal mirror trap for Christine, and he had given her everything and he would get her back because she was his fiancée and he gave her a ring while she gave him a promise and his brother had drilled it into him since childhood not to go back on a promise.

"Grazi," Erik said with a smile to an Italian vendor and handing him some money. He and Christine walked away, with Erik carrying the bundles of food that would serve as dinner.

"It's lucky for us you speak fluent Italian," Christine said, her chocolate curls bouncing as she walked with a smile on her face.

"There's no such thing as luck," Erik replied briskly, keeping a fast pace and the tiniest hint of a smile. "I happened to live in Italy for a while in my youth."

"Oh?" Christine asked with a raised eyebrow. "What were you doing in Italy?" Erik's face closed up in the specific way it did when something about his past came up. He didn't answer, and Christine closed her mouth in quiet though disappointed acceptance. They walked the rest of the way home in silence.

They were now living in the Coney Island staff apartments, which were actually relatively nice if a bit small. Christine and Erik lived next to Squelch and Gangle, and Miss Fleck lived across the hall. Christine regularly gave her singing lessons and Erik often pitched in, even if it was just through the door. Several other members of Erik's show lived in the same hallway of the building—a pair of extremely handsome male conjoined twins named James and Timothy, who loved seeing Christine and Fleck because they were women who accepted their condition (a rare occurrence for them, apparently). Other performers included Jenny, a jolly and plump bearded lady, Lynn, a fiery red-haired contortionist, Marcus, a fire-breather, and his best friend Julius, who was a snake charmer and positively coated with tattoos. Marcus and Julius both adored Meg and competed for her attention whenever the Girys visited, which was often.

"Hi, Jenny," Christine called through the open door, where the bearded lady was cooking something.

"Well, hello, Christine!" Jenny laughed (she was always laughing). "Did you want something to eat?" Jenny was always trying to coax Christine into eating something extra, not only because she was "too thin" but also because she was pregnant.

Marcus and Julius were also there—Jenny had practically raised the two boys since they had come to work in the show as teenagers. The two dark-skinned boys (Christine had to stop thinking of them as boys; they were both around her age. She supposed she just thought of them as boys since she was married) smiled at her and waved hello. Giving Christine an amused glance, Erik went on ahead with the groceries as she stopped to chat.

"No thanks," Christine replied, leaning against the doorway. "We just got ingredients for dinner." Jenny laughed again, shaking her head.

"You two are the only couple I know where the husband does the cooking," she commented, stirring something on her own stove.

"Well, it's not like we follow the standards of society anyway," Christine pointed out. "Hi, Marcus, Julius," Christine greeted. They were lounging around Jenny's apartment (honestly, they practically lived there).

"Hey, Curls," Marcus grinned. "When's your friend coming by next?"

"Even if she knew, you two would be the last to know," Jenny scolded. Christine smiled despite herself. Julius wiggled his eyebrows at Christine and she laughed.

"I think she'll be around sometime this weekend," she said. "I'll see you later."

"Eat something!" Jenny called as Christine went down the hallway.

Christine just laughed again and continued toward her own apartment. When she got there, Erik was already in the middle of preparing their meal.

"What are we even eating?" she asked upon entering, hanging up her coat and going to the kitchen.

"Italian food," Erik said evasively, not taking his eyes from the food.

"Whatever you say," Christine said with sparkling eyes. Erik stirred something and put the lid on the pot of whatever-it-was, muttering a satisfied affirmation. Erik turned to her, suddenly looking shy. Christine's eyebrows contracted slightly, concerned.

"Is something wrong…?" her voice trailed off as Erik went to the kitchen table, picking up a completed manuscript.

"I finished the aria," he said softly, but with triumphant ecstasy gleaming in his eyes. There was something both dark and childlike about his enthusiasm. "Sing it, Christine!" he all but begged. "You're warmed up and you haven't eaten for a few hours—it's a perfect time." He all but shoved the sheet music into her hands, placing his hands on either side of her face, effectively trapping her against the wall. "Please, Christine," he implored. His amber eyes were wild and dark with anticipation. Christine found herself a little breathless—the intensity of his excitement was practically contagious.

"All right," she said, somewhat weakly. She cleared her throat and tried again: "Yes." Erik released her physically, but the contagion of his voice and his intense energy had her just as trapped as before.

Christine straightened her posture and controlled her breathing. She opened the manuscript, scanned the page for a few seconds, took a deep breath, and began.

"Who knows when love begins?

Who knows what makes it start?

One day it's simply there,

alive inside your heart.

It slips into your thoughts

It infiltrates your soul

It takes you by surprise,

then seizes full control.

Try to deny it

and try to protest:

but love won't let you go

once you've been possessed.

Love never dies,

love never falters.

Once it has spoken,

love is yours.

Love never fades,

love never alters.

Hearts may get broken:

love endures.

Hearts may get broken:

love endures.

And soon as you submit,

surrender flesh and bone,

that love takes on a life

much bigger than your own.

It uses you at whim,

and drives you to despair,

and forces you to feel

more joy than you can bear.

Love gives you pleasure

and love brings you pain.

And yet, when both are gone,

love will still remain.

Once it has spoken,

love is yours.

Love never dies,

love never alters.

Hearts may get broken:

love endures.

Hearts may get broken…

Love never dies!

Love will continue!

Love keeps on beating

when you're gone!

Life may be fleeting,

love lives on!

Life may be fleeting…

love lives on…"

Christine finished, but the sensations created by the singing would not ebb. She would be lying if she said that she did not feel physical desire for Erik after such a beautiful song, knowing he had made it especially for her. The rhythm of the song was still flowing through her, and she stared at Erik with her mouth slightly open. Erik, meanwhile, was staring at her with an even greater intensity than previously. Wordlessly, the two embraced, trembling and not needing to say a single word.

The door burst open, startling the duo, and all of their neighbors crowded around it in wonderment (when they made their livings off of being ogled at, many of them chose to disregard personal boundaries). Fleck was at the front with her mouth hanging open and her dark eyes popping out of her head.

"I never knew anyone could sing like that in my life," she managed to say, looking at Christine in awe. Everyone else murmured in agreement.

"I had a great teacher," Christine murmured, a faint blush tinting her cheeks and looking up at Erik.

"Be careful, Christine, or one of the managers will hear you and try to get you as an act!" Julius joked, but his expression was a little too serious. "I mean…wow."

In the kitchen, the pot started to rattle, startling everyone out of their reverie. Erik practically ran to the kitchen. The crowd started to disperse, and Christine quietly shut the door.

So…any good? Let me know if you spot any mistakes, please. And review!