And It's All About Us

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Erik

The silence was thicker than the blackest smoke. There she stood, Christine, the love he has waited for, the one to finally make his happiness begin. He knew giving her the diary was a good idea and that she would put two and two together. Back in the 40s Christine had told him about the Man with No Face and how he would have her sing for him and how he would help her voice grow. It was only inevitable that the Christine that stood before him would have the same dreams, except incorporating the 40s as well. It was their souls that traveled time, not their bodies; therefore they have a bond not only physically, but mentally as well.

Christine finally broke the silence.

"I need proof," Christine sniffled. "I need to know that you are not some creep just trying to make this all romantic and whisk me away to some dungeon or something."

"The diary," Erik started, "It...it was yours."

Christine brought her head up, showing her tear-stained cheeks and red eyes. "That's not good enough."

Erik walked toward Christine and brought his hand out for the diary.

"The backing, there is a slit. Look inside."

Christine took a step back from Erik as if she was scared. There was no need to be afraid of him, Erik would have never hurt her. He was more worried about her newfound love and how he would react.

Christine opened the back slit and found a photo, she immediately dropped to the ground as she held it. Erik saw her eyes grow damp again, and now Christine was sobbing.

"This isn't true," she cried, "You...you are a liar!"

Erik knelt down in from of Christine and took the photo from her.

There she was, in her white wedding dress and beautiful smile, there was Christine holding onto a man with a mustache and long hair.

"Fortunately, you look the same," Erik somewhat chuckled, "I, on the other hand, I need to go back and tell that version of Erik to shave his mustache, he looks ridiculous," Erik smirked to himself and questioned the very fashion of his look back in the 40s.

"If this was real," Christine chocked out between sobs, "why do you not look like the way you do now?"

"Well, to be quite frank," Erik said, his chuckles subsiding, "I covered the deformity up with my facial hair and the reason I had very long hair as well."

"Now you cover your scars with makeup?"

"Yes," Erik tried to take Christine's hand, but she pulled away, "You have read the stories of our tragedy, yes?"

Christine nodded.

"Well, my deformities were greater than all the books have written. I was in fact a skeleton. I was a corpse waiting to die, and then I heard you for the first time singing to yourself on that stage. Pretending to be a primadonna. You don't remember that Christine, at least not yet." Erik stood up and paced. "My deformities healed through the lifetimes I suppose."

He didn't know how to tell her the ending of the story was wrong and In fact, it was he who died in Christine's arms that night, on the roof. They actually showed a good interpretation of it in the 1990 miniseries.

"Have you ever watched the Charles Dance version of our story, dear?" Erik asked as he beckoned her to get up.

"No, I haven't."

"Well for our original story, I feel that this was the most accurate, except for the singing part at the very end."

"So, we are destined then?" Christine stood, wiping her knees.

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