Author's note: The song is Anywhere by Evanescence.

Bold italics are lines sung by both characters.

The man they called the Opera Ghost was rigging the chandelier to fall, if he wished it, during the upcoming opera when he heard an echo from the stage below.

“Have you seen Christine?”

Curiously he peered through the small window; it was dirty but clear enough to see that the Vicomte and the managers were onstage.

“No, Monsieurs,” replied Meg Giry who’d been left in charge of the dancers while her mother searched for the young soprano. “Madame went to look for her but she isn’t back yet. Try the dressing rooms and the dormitories – I think that is where she is going, she already tried the chapel.”

“Thank you, mademoiselle Giry.”

‘So Christine has eluded the presence of her fiancée, I wonder where she went. Not that it matters now.’

He left the small room and started back towards his home to prepare for the opera. AT the entrance he usually used he found a scrap of paper, seemingly put there to fill a gap in the wood, it was a short note from Madame Giry – the only one who knew about this hidden door.

She went to the roof.

Five words and he wondered why she took the time to tell him, why not go back to the stage and tell the girl’s fiancée... He replayed the thought in his mind; Christine was on the roof of the Opera house.

‘I know she’s not happy about this that he talked her into it, but surely she wouldn’t...’

Before he finished the unbearable thought he was walking towards the stairs that would lead him to the roof.

Christine sat on the short wall that ran around the roof; the height had never bothered her and at this very moment she was seriously considering exactly what the Phantom feared, more precisely she was wondering exactly how much it would hurt to let herself fall from the ledge-she certainly wouldn’t be the first young woman to do so. A feeling of being watched made her smile wryly.

“You might as well come out,” she said softly. “I know you’re there, I always know when you’re there.”

He said nothing but she heard his footsteps and knew he was standing behind her.

“Why are you here?”

“I was about to ask you the same Mademoiselle.”

His soft voice sounded harsh in the silence that surrounded them after her question. Christine smiled that same wry smile as she replied.

“You’re here because you knew the answer to the question.”

It was dark but he could see her smiling as she answered him. He was overcome by a rare pang of conscience it was his fault she had felt driven to this.

“Come away from the edge, please, Christine.”

“Do you think it would hurt more than I already do?” she asked ignoring his plea. “You and he, you can not see that you are as bad as each other!

It’s tearing me apart inside and I don’t know what to do! You frightened me, God knows you did! But I don’t hate you, I don’t want to hate you and I don’t want to help either of you kill the other!

More fool I to be engaged to a man I am not sure I love and in love with a man who no longer wants me!”

Silence, and Christine’s harsh sobbing, followed her impassioned words.

“And both of us only thinking of ourselves and what we want.” he replied finally. “For my part I am truly sorry.”

“I believe you. No doubt Raoul would be very sorry as well but does it change what you are going to do tonight, whatever that may be?”

“Yes.”

The single word wasn’t enough he had to tell her more.

“Christine, I love you as I always have but I realise now the choice is yours. Whatever you want I will accept even if... even if this is what you choose.”

Silence reigned the rooftop again as she considered his words. He waited patiently, silently, hoping he would be close enough to catch her if she jumped – yes he had lied but only about that, if she chose the other man he would let her go.

      “Dear my love, haven't you wanted to be with me.
      And dear my love, haven't you longed to be free.”

He looked at her, startled beyond words, as she sang to him.

      “I can't keep pretending that I don't even know you.
      And at sweet night, you are my own.
      Take my hand.”

She turned to him and held out her hand for him to help her stand up. He wasn’t wearing any gloves but her skin felt icy even against the cold of his hands as he led her away from the wall. She looked at him, smiling, and sang on.

      “We're leaving here tonight.
      There's no need to tell anyone.
      They'd only hold us down.
      So by the morning light.
      We'll be half way to anywhere.
      Where love is more than just your name.

Will you?” She asked him, holding both of his hands in her own and searching his face for some hint of the answer. “Will you run away with me?”

      “I have dreamt of a place for you and I.”

He answered her in the best way, the only way.

      “No one knows who we are there.
      All I want is to give my life only to you.
      I've dreamt so long I cannot dream anymore.
      Let's run away, I'll take you there.”

      “We're leaving here tonight.
      There's no need to tell anyone.
      They'd only hold us down.
      So by the mornings light.
      We'll be half way to anywhere.
      Where no one needs a reason.”

Somehow, neither of them quite remembered the details, he ended up with Christine held close to him, her cheek resting against his shoulder and his hands around her waist – a lot like the way they had stood when he sang to her that night in his lair except she was willing and fully aware.

      “Forget this life.
      Come with me.
      Don't look back you're safe now.
      Unlock your heart.
      Drop your guard.
      No one's left to stop you.”

      “Forget this life.
      Come with me.
      Don't look back you're safe now.
      Unlock your heart.
      Drop your guard.
      No one's left to stop you now.

      We're leaving here tonight.
      There's no need to tell anyone.
      They'd only hold us down.
      So by the morning light.
      We'll be half way to anywhere.
      Where love is more than just your name.”

The search for Christine brought Raoul back to her dressing room a short while before she was supposed to be on stage, there had been no sign of the Phantom yet. The room was empty and he was turning to leave when a shimmer of reflected light caught his eye. On the dressing table was a red rose tied with a black ribbon, the ring he’d given Christine, and a small piece of paper. With a gasp he half ran to the table, expecting some kind of ransom note, what he found shocked him more than he thought possible. Two words, in Christine’s handwriting and followed by her signature.

My choice