The Art of Manipulation || Phantom of the Opera & Loki the God of Mischief ||

-The New Managers-

A/N: Belated Merry Christmas to all of you who celebrate! I hope you all had a fun Christmas! I apologize about this update taking longer than usual but I was busy with work and recently became re-obsessed with Snape. (I know it's weird but I totally ship Sevmione and may have spent most of Christmas reading fanfics about them...) Also, I had an idea for a POTO one shot that I spent some time writing (when I should have been writing The Angel's Shadow's sequel)... The one shot is now finished and if you'd like to check it out it's called The Phantom Of The Opera Is There Inside My Mind. Rambling done! Enjoy this next chapter! :D

-The New Managers-

*flashback*

Rehearsals, changes in the score, complaints - loud complaints - from Carlotta. All these things made the next week go by in a blur. All these things kept me from seeing Erik.

It has been a week now. An entire week since he kissed my hand, since he kissed my cheek. In my room, during the few moments I had to myself, I stared at the rose he had given me one week ago. Waving my hand over the rose, a light blue mist fell over it, reinforcing the spell that will keep it alive and looking like new. I didn't want it to fade, I didn't want it to die.

"Alouette?"

I turned my head to the direction of my name being called, unsure exactly where it came from but recognizing the voice. I waited for it to be spoken again.

"Alouette?"

Second catwalk above the stage, near the top where the lighting barely reaches.

A smile came across my face and I envisioned the dark corner not far from where the voice came from. Appearing in the dark, I quickly checked to make sure no one had seen me materialize before stepping out of the corner.

Walking up behind the looming figure searching for me, I quietly called his name, "Yes, Erik?"

He jumped slightly, whipping around and greeting me with wide eyes, "How do you manage to sneak up on me and I cannot sneak up on you? It truly isn't fair."

Giggling, I walked up to him, tilting my chin up to look at him, "Life isn't fair, Erik."

The smile on his face faltered, his eyes drifting to the floor, "How true."

His two words made my own smile drop, my hand taking on a mind of its own and reaching up to hold the unmasked side of his face.

What is your story? I have meant to ask so many times.

I heard the faint sounds of footsteps coming up the stairway beside us and gently nudged Erik deeper into the shadows with my hand on his chest. Turning around I smiled at the man who reached the top of the steps, "Bonjour, Buquet."

Joseph nodded back and spoke as he walked past me, the faint smell of alcohol trailing after him, "Bonjour, Madame de La Hye." He was about to turn his head towards me but I averted his gaze, a light blue flash attracting his attention on the other side of the catwalk. If he had looked my way he would have seen Erik hiding behind me. It isn't that I didn't want Joseph to see Erik, I merely knew that Erik didn't want Joseph to see him. And, if Joseph did see Erik, he would start with his tattling again. If that happened, Erik wouldn't be very pleased.

When we were sure Joseph was on the lower level, Erik stepped into the lighter walkway, his presence like a looming panther; green, precise eyes glowing in the dimly lit walkway. He held out his hand, a small smile spreading across his face, "You left this in Box Five last week."