It had been three days since the Don Juan Triumphant incident. The official story was that the rope holding the chandelier had been cut when the bullet aimed at the Phantom, instead hit the rope. Only a small fire had been caused and while a few people were injured there were no deaths. The fire itself had been contained to the auditorium so most of the theatre remained intact. As for Raoul and Christine, they had come back up from the lair claiming that the Phantom had disappeared, and had only kidnapped Christine as a distraction to that he wouldn't get shot. Juliette had a feeling that story was Christine's idea. A thank you for letting them go. All of this ran through Juliette's head as she fastened her cloak tight about her when the voice of her mother stopped her. "Where are you off to Juliette?" Juliette turned to see her mother standing in the entryway. Madame Giry looked the same as ever. Juliette smiled to herself. Leave it to her mother to be able to look the same even after an event like the one that had just happened. "I have to go and see if he is there," Juliette involuntarily clutched her locket. Her mother nodded in understanding. "I suppose I should have expected this. If you find him tell him to… take care." She paused and looked at Juliette sternly, "And be careful yourself." Juliette nodded, finished pulling on her dark green cloak, and stepped out into the evening. It was dusk and Juliette knew it would be unsafe to walk all the way to the opera house so she hailed a carriage. "To the Opera Populaire," she told the driver who just nodded and the carriage set off. Once she had paid the driver Juliette looked up at the building. The outside may look the same, but she knew the inside was a very different thing. In truth, the Populaire wasn't the same, and neither were its people. Making sure that nobody was watching, Juliette snuck around to the side of the building where what looked like a drain pipe, big enough for a person to walk through, was covered by a grate. Juliette, knew better than to judge by appearances. Fiddling with something near the grate there was at last, a series of clicking sounds. The grate opened and Juliette quickly went through, closing the gate behind her and hurrying through the pipe. The tunnel itself was damp and dark. This meant Juliette had to light a match so as to see the way forward. Lucky for her she already knew which traps to avoid and where, meaning that she made fast progress. At last she reached a curtain, which she pushed aside to real the Phantom's home. Juliette looked around. Things were spread all around music, drawings, etc. Some of it was obviously from the mob's raid but the other part seemed as if someone had been packing. "Erik?" she called out. There was no response. Grief and fear rose up inside of Juliette. She walked over to the organ and saw some of his drawings, one of which, she recognized. It was an image of three girls stretching together in ballet outfits. One girl was very young, with a white ribbon in her golden-blonde hair, the next was the oldest with chocolate brown curls and brown doe-like eyes, and the last was average height with bright blue eyes, dark-blonde hair and a slightly mischievous smile. "I wondered if you would come." Said a voice behind her. Juliette jumped and turned to see Erik standing behind her. He was dressed in his usual evening attire and wore his half mask. "I couldn't really think why you would come but I am not entirely surprised." He continued. "Oh Erik!" she hugged him. "I was so worried for you. I had to come and see if you were alright." Juliette looked around. I'm sorry for everything the mob ruined." Erik shook his head. "It isn't your fault." After a pause he asked, "How is Christine? I assume she and that boy are happy." He turned around and continued picking things up and packing them, clearly trying to hide his expression. "Christine is fine, a little shaken, but fine. She actually broke up with Raoul after they left the opera house. She said she couldn't give up all she had worked for and that it was probably better if they stayed just friends. She actually gave me this for you. I guess she figured I would try and find you." Juliette handed him and envelope." Erik took it somewhat shocked. Opening it he quickly read the short note. As he read the grief on his face lessened slightly. Erik then tucked it away in his coat pocket. "Thank you, Juliette," Erik said to her. Juliette nodded and then look up at him.

"So, I take by all this that you are leaving." Erik nodded. "I'm a wanted man. I will have to get out of Paris and probably even France itself. I have contacts in other places so don't worry." He told her as he continued packing. "Is there any way I can help?" asked Juliette, unfastening her cloak and laying it on a chair. "No, I'm not taking much. Mostly just clothes, my violin, and some music." Juliette nodded. "The rest I am leaving here." "Will you ever come back?" Juliette asked. Erik paused. "If I can and when it is safe then perhaps I will. I am sealing all but one entrance." He told her. "Then I will try and make sure it stays intact." Said Juliette. Erik looked at her. "You know there may be one thing that you could help me with. He turned and picked up some letters, adding a few sentences to one of them, before putting each of them in an addressed envelope. He then handed three of them to her. Juliette looked down. One was addressed to her mother, one to Jamie, and the other to Christine. "I would appreciate if you could deliver these." Juliette nodded and set them by her cloak so she would not forget them. "Thank you." "You're welcome." She told him but she was not smiling there was sadness in her eyes. Erik, who had just shut his violin case looked at her with his head tilted slightly. "What's wrong?" he asked her. She shook her head trying to sound like her normal, optimistic self. "What makes you think something is wrong," she asked a little too fast. "Juliette, I've known you for quite a while. I can tell when you're upset," said Erik, crossing his arms. "You aren't exactly a hard person to read." Juliette sighed and sat down. "I just feel so guilty Erik." She told him. This answer clearly surprised him as he was speechless for a moment. "Guilty? What on earth for? You are the last person I would blame for any of this mess." Erik sat down next to her and hesitantly put his arm around the girl. Juliette raised her face from her hands. "I knew this would happen. I knew how this whole Christine ordeal ended and I didn't stop it. The day you dropped that backdrop I made a promise. I promised that I would make sure you got a happy ending not the one in the play. But I failed." She was now all out sobbing. "Oh Juliette." Erik said softly running a hand through her hair in order to calm her. "You know, only you would find the kindness in your heart to try and do that. And as I recall you did try and stop some of this and I didn't listen." He paused. "My dear you did not truly fail. As I have learned many times over, life isn't fair. But that doesn't mean it can't have its happy moments." He looked at her directly in the eyes, blue facing gold. "You have been the cause of some of my happiest moments. You were the one who was always happy to come here and keep me company. You were the one who always comforted me and made me laugh. You were the one who didn't run and who became my first real friend. Don't you see? You didn't fail. The end part was simply not the happiest. Never blame yourself Juliette." Juliette stared at him. "You mean it?" she asked, and Erik nodded. Juliette dried her eyes. "I am going to miss you so much. I don't know what I'll do without you." She said. "You'll find a way. And it isn't forever. Besides I know you are going to become a brilliant dancer mon cheri" Erik told her. "Which reminds me…" he got up and went behind curtain and then brought back a flat package. Juliette opened it and gasped. Inside was a beautiful painting around the size of a sheet of paper. The image was of the first night she ever danced. Up on the catwalk she saw a small image of a boy with red hair watching from above. Just visible in the wings were the figures of her mother and Meg, both in perfect detail. Box five was also there which if you looked closely had someone in it. And then there was Juliette herself. And here was the one difference. In real life, she had been in the background and yet, in the picture she stood center stage, dancing the lead.
"It's fantastic Erik all the detail and…" Juliette trailed off shocked. "You took the time to make this for me?" "I thought you might want something to remember me by if anything ever happened." Said Erik with a shrug as he came to sit back down. Juliette set the picture aside and pulled Erik into a tight hug. "Thank you so much Erik," she said as they pulled apart. There was silence for a moment. "Erik will you sing for me one last time?" There was a slight plea in her voice. Erik gave he a small smile. "Of course, I can, Juliette. And I think I know just the song." He walked over toward his piano and began to play a familiar tune.

How does a moment last forever?
How can a story never die?
It is love we must hold onto
Never easy, but we try
Sometimes our happiness is captured
Somehow, our time and place stand still
Love lives on inside our hearts and always will

Minutes turn to hours, days to years then gone
But when all else has been forgotten
Still our song lives on

Maybe some moments weren't so perfect
Maybe some memories not so sweet
But we have to know some bad times
Or our lives are incomplete
Then when the shadows overtake us
Just when we feel all hope is gone
We'll hear our song and know once more
Our song lives on

Erik stood up but continued to sing perfectly in tune. He walked to where Juliette was standing and scooped her up bridal style, like he used to when he carried to bed when she was little, and then spun her around once before setting her down on the sofa.

Minutes turn to hours, days to years then gone
But when all else has been forgotten
Still our song lives on

Juliette never stopped smiling as he was singing, for that was her song, the one that he wrote for her. After a moment Erik looked at his watch. "It appears that it is time for me to leave." He said. "I will walk out with you." With that he picked up his violin case and smaller travel bag. Juliette stowed the letters in her cloak as she put her cloak on and picked up the painting that Erik had given her. They walked out in silence, neither sure what to say. They reached the entrance Juliette had come through and Erik secured it in place. To Juliette's surprise a black coach was waiting outside for them. A man wearing Persian robes stepped out. "Erik, we must hurry," he said and then nodded to Juliette in acknowledgement. "Juliette, is an acquaintance of mine Nadir Kahn. Nadir, this is a dear friend of mine Mademoiselle Juliette Giry." Juliette curtsied to Nadir. Seeing that she and Erik needed to finish goodbyes Nadir took the cases to the coach. "Well, I suppose this is goodbye then. Promise me you'll stay safe. I want to see you back all in one piece." She paused and then took out a handkerchief that she had sown the initials J.G. into and handed it to Erik. "Keep this, so you don't forget about me." Erik took the piece of cloth. "I will never forget you mon cheri. And when it is safe I will try and keep in touch." Juliette looked at him. "Erik… could you remove the mask briefly just one last time. Please." She asked. Erik paused they were alone aside from Nadir. Slowly Erik removed his mask revealing the deformed side of his face. Juliette smiled up at him. "Now that's the Erik I know." She gave him a friendly peck on the cheek and one last hug as he replaced the mask. "Now hurry, I don't want you to get caught." She told him as he got into the coach. Leaning out the window Erik took her hand. "You take care of yourself as well as your mother and sister. Au revoir, Mon Petit Danseur." "Au revoir Erik," whispered Juliette as she watched the coach rolling away. And somehow be it intuition, or just blind faith, Juliette knew that The Ballerina and The Phantom, would meet again.

Fin

Acknowledgments

The credit for this story must go out to more than just myself. I must of course thank Sir Andrew Loyd Webber for providing the musical, Gaston Leroux for all cannon characters, and Beauty and the Beast from 2017 for How Does a Moment Last Forever. Thanks, should also go to my dance teacher Camille for the knowledge about ballet and my French teachers for translation of the French terms. As for the rest of the story, it could not have been made without the help of my wonderful friends who have given me ideas and have helped me out of some heavy writer's block. Thank you to everyone who allowed me to ramble on about my obsession with this musical. And thank you to anyone to took the time to read this. Also, if you liked The Ballerina and the Phantom be on the look-out for future stories involving Juliette. Until then I remain

Your obedient writer,

G. D.