A/N: This picture has nothing to do with the story. I just like it and I thought I'd share it with you, even though you might have already seen it. MUST READ!!!: You HAVE to go back and read the first chapter again if you haven't already. It is based off of the original, but I deleted it (the original), thinking it was bad, but I realised that it wasn't. If you don't want to read the entire chapter, READ THE SECTION IN ITALICS. IF YOU DON'T REREAD THE FIRST CHAPTER, YOU WILL BE CONFUSED LATER ON. I'm sorry for yelling.
Anyway, enjoy the story!
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"Y/N?"
Y/N froze. It couldn't be. Could it?
She turned around, and what she saw shocked her. The man who said her name had soft, messy, dirty blonde hair and striking blue eyes. He had a narrow yet built figure and a defined face. His skin was a colour somewhere between pale and tan and he was wearing the finest men's clothes in all of France, maybe Europe, and he had a witty look in his eye. He was wearing a ring on his pinky which had the family crest on it, and the gold chain of a pocket watch linked itself across his midsection, at the bottom of his navy blue vest. He was wearing a very well tailored suit; it included a soft, white shirt, a shiny black tie, a curved golden tie pin with one green stone in the tie, a navy blue pinstriped suit jacket with tails, a matching pair of well laundered navy blue trousers, and a pair of well shined black shoes.
The mere look and sound of him was enough to make Y/N recall the one name she always associated with just the structure and colour of his face, hair, and eyes, and that name was Philippe. Y/N stood still, shocked that he would be here and not in his estate in England. How could he be here?
'Oh, no, no, no,' Y/N thought.
"Ph-Philippe?" she asked.
"Oh, Y/N, it really is you! I've been yearning to see you for years!" Philippe ran to her and wrapped her arms around her.
Philippe embraced her for a long, awkward thirty seconds or so and then released her.
"So, Y/N, how are you doing? What have you been up to? I hope you have been making an agreeable future for yourself," he said.
Y/N cracked a fake smile, now feeling the weight of the bucket which held the water. "I am doing well. Everything is great. My future looks magnificent, but for the moment, I really have to go," Y/N spoke slowly, trying to make herself sound as if she was annoyed that she had to leave him.
Philippe responded immediately. "Of course, of course! Would you like me to carry that bucket for you and escort you back to where you live?"
"No! No. It's fine, really," Y/N rushed. She didn't want him to see that she lived in the old opera house, where the Opera Ghost was rumored to live. Philippe would kill Erik for sure. Philippe would see the Phantom as a threat to Y/N and immediately kill him, thinking that he would be protecting Y/N.
Philippe contorted his face into one of confusion and jerked his head back a bit. "Alright then. But if you are to leave so abruptly, may I at least see you again? I would like to get a chance to talk to you. After all, we haven't seen each other in quite a few years," he said. His face smoothed out and painted on it was a questioning look, which replaced the confusion on his features.
Y/N's heart stopped. If she were to see Philippe again, the Phantom would surely get very angry, but if she didn't see him, Philippe would become his worst self. Y/N wouldn't be able to rid herself of Philippe for years if she didn't see him. That would result in potentially getting Erik killed and most likely having a forced marriage with Philippe. Either way was a hard choice, but saying yes was the best for both her and Erik. There was a lesser chance of Philippe knowing about Erik, which would mean a lesser chance of Philippe knowing about Y/N's feelings towards Erik. This would all mean a lesser chance of Erik getting into trouble. So, Y/N decided to choose the best decision.
"Yes you may," she responded.
"Wonderful! When am I to see you again?"
"How about in five days, on Friday, in front of the fountain?"
"Perfect. I shall see you then, Y/N. Oh, and do wear something nice," Philippe instructed.
'Oh, that won't be a problem,' Y/N thought. She had many very elegant, high class dresses in her wardrobe, luckily for her and Philippe.
"Alright. Goodbye," Y/N uttered.
"Goodbye, Y/N. Until I see you next!"
"Okay," she said and waved to Philippe, a fake grin plastered onto her face.
Philippe walked away, into the large crowd of people, his back turned to Y/N. Y/N huffed and picked up her bucket again, not realising that during her seemingly long conversation she had put it down. She once again walked towards the opera house, climbed the steps, and walked through the audience, performance, and backstage areas of the opera house. Once she got back to Cesar the horse, it was already the late afternoon, about three o'clock. The sun was lower now, and was projecting an afternoon mist that was usually only present in the summer. The atmosphere had a pinkish hue, a characteristic for Paris, and the chatter, which could be heard from inside the opera house, had died down a little. Cesar was lazily hanging his head, just dozing off until Y/N neared him. The horse woke up with a start and was immediately ready to be the mode of transportation.
Y/N mounted the horse and told him to go forward. Being the obedient horse that he was, Cesar obeyed and started walking forward at a comfortable pace.
The ride to the boat was silent, except for Cesar's hooves stepping on the ground. His footsteps rang through the tunnel and the water in the bucket sloshed from side to side, forward and backward. It did not spill once however, for Y/N once made the mistake of filling the bucket too close to the top with water, and she was quick to learn from her actions.
Cesar and Y/N arrived to the boat quickly, and Y/N soon got off of Cesar, tied him up and fetched him some food and poorer him some water. He was very happy, so he soon began eating hurriedly. He ate almost half of his food by the time Y/N got into the boat. She laughed and threw him a carrot, which he happily ate with only a small amount of difficulty. Y/N rolled her eyes and started rowing down the river, thinking about what had happened.
How could Philippe be in Paris? The last time Y/N saw him, he said that he would be in his estate in England most likely forever and would be leaving Paris for good. This was two months before Y/N had lost her mother and step-father.
Y/N sighed and remembered when Philippe had sent an angry letter to her house one day before she had lost her parents (or at least what she considered to be her parents). He had been angry that Y/N didn't go to the train station to say goodbye. He was angry that Y/N wasn't caring enough to at least say goodbye to her only friend. All of this was captured into one page and a half, displaying his anger in fierce, dark ink. She remembered how he wrote that she was unkind and didn't care about anyone's wellbeing. He had said that she was one of the cruelest, most horrid monsters in the planet; he said this all because Y/N was too occupied on making him a going away present, and she didn't know when he was leaving.
Y/N shook her head. The amount of stress Philippe had caused her then was almost unbearable. The only person who actually befriended her had just split their friendship into two pieces. Luckily for her, she did find new and better friends at the opera house (A/N: These are your friends in real life) though Y/N could only know them for a few years before she met Erik.
Y/N let out a huff of breath as she jumped out of the boat and pulled it to shore. She grabbed her belongings and strode over to the place where Erik and her normally kept their food and water and placed the bucket and the basket down. She grabbed the box which held the pocket watch, however. She didn't want Erik to discover it in their food.
Y/N walked to the organ and and put the newly flipped chair back into its position. What she heard next was what she dreaded.
Heavy footsteps walked up next to her and a pair of large hands grabbed her shoulders roughly.
"Where have you been?" Erik hissed harshly through clenched teeth, in his deep voice. His hands and voice both made Y/N look up at his masked face. His tone made goosebumps rise on Y/N's arms and neck and made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.
"I've just been out getting food and water," Y/N replied in a calm voice. "I left you a note," she said.
"Where was it?" He asked, still in the same tone of voice, shaking Y/N by the shoulders.
"It was underneath your mask, Master."
A silence filled the room and Erik's hands loosened.
"Once again, Y/N, I told you to call me by my name, which, if you have forgotten, is Erik," he said in a gentler voice. "How many times do I have to tell you?"
"Not many times, Erik," Y/N replied.
Erik nodded. "Good."
He then looked at Y/N a little longer with his hands still on her shoulders. He looked at her eyes then at her lips and moved forward only a small distance, but it was still enough to make Y/N's heart pound and the butterflies in her stomach flutter frantically. Their breaths were mixing when Erik looked at her eyes once more and then looked at her lips before he took his hands off of Y/N's shoulders and walked away, back to his room.
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A/N: I'm so sorry that it took this long to update. My grandma is visiting and is making me spend a lot of time with her, which gives me less time to write. I'm sorry if it's bad, and I'm sorry that it's shorter than usual. Anyway, I can't believe I got 136 reads! Thank you so much for reading this book and this chapter and thank you for the votes. Until next time!