#erikcest

While like Mauer, some Meriks' were disgruntled at the organ being off limits until after the ceremony, a few managed well with this setback especially as they had little to no say in the matter.

And one Merik in particular was being quite the groomszilla.

Panaro scowled plopping down on his bed.

"Disaster I say! Beyond imagination even!" He groaned.

Karimloo-watering his plant by the windowsill-shook his head comically.

"It's really not all bad-"

"Not all bad! Did you SEE the floral arrangements they tried to push on us?! As insightful as the Christines' help has been what did or did you not say to Sierra?"

"That 'the only one approving of the flower arrangements at our wedding will be my husband.'"

"Exactly! And then they try and sneak lilies into MY arrangement. LILIES! And remind me again why that child is taking part in our wedding?" The Broadway Merik asked, sitting up to remove his bowtie and tailcoat.

Karimloo shrugged, "Well as adorable as he is we can't have Soot walk down the aisle unattended. And besides, the kid's not that bad, I kind of like him."

"Do you.... do you ever think of children?"

This immediately cocked the West End Merik's attention from the plant to his fiancee.

"Perhaps we should go one step at a time, marriage first!"

"I'm just asking!"

Karimloo rubbed his chin, "I mean I won't say the thought hasn't come to mind, especially being how absent they are around here."

"Well I for one am NOT carrying it! I don't need a maternity suit."

Both men cackled at the joke in regular Merik muscle memory fashion.

"Hey," Karimloo sat on his own bed. "Don't worry love, the wedding will be fine."

"C'mere," Panaro patted the mattress.

Giving in to the Broadway Merik's request he flopped down on the cushy bed, Panaro already making off with his mask and wig.

Panaro ran his hand through the West End's soft wispies of grey hair.

"I still can't understand how you sleep in this without slithering out of the bed in those silk pyjamas of yours." Karimloo chuckled, his twitchy fingers caressing the other man's deformity after having snatched away Pan's mask.

"It's easier when you're in the bed too."

--

Gerik sighed, staring up at the ceiling.

Across from him Mr. Y took another inhale of his canned eucalyptus.

"Maybe we should do something out in the city? Might take your mind off things." The Coney migrant suggested.

"For the last time I'm not going to a cowboy bar with you," Gerik groaned.

"Oh come now Monsieur! Where else can I wear my hat and spurs?" Y whined.

"Last time we went out, everyone was staring at me from behind."

"Well if you didn't wear stuffing-"

"It's padding!" Gerik argued. "I don't like to do it, it's just a bad habit."

"And besides it doesn't have to be a bar, just somewhere to get away from all this wedding hubub until they leave for the honeymoon."

The men glanced up hearing a soft knock.

"Enter," Y said.

Both masked men straightened up seeing Monsieur F'antome walk in, his shiny dress shoes barely clicked against the floor.

"I had heard Monsieur Gerik was in here. Might I have a word with you in my chambers, s'il vous plait?" While Erik asked this as a question, the thick air made it feel more like an obvious request.

Gerik followed Erik down to the ever forbidden basement of the house. The film adaption froze seeing multiple (masked) faces that greeted him downstairs.

Standing around a large table were Lerik, Crawford, and Karimloo.  

"W-What's going on?" Gerik asked slightly on edge seeing the West End Merik.

Though the two had made peace calling a truce, as Karimloo was sympathetic that Gerik had tried in the end to reverse his amnesia and purposely trying not to hurt Panaro during the last fight. But ever still Gerik felt uneasy around him, or just the fact that there were two Meriks' in the room and only one of him.

Erik also joined the men by the table. "Nothing to be afraid of, I can promise that much."

The others still stood, while Erik was the only one situating himself in a sturdy wooden throne like chair with articulately carved design.

"After much talk-" Glancing at Lerik but the mute giving an understanding nod

"-we have decided some changes in leadership must be made. Or rather some additions."

"Additions?" Gerik asked, it was then he realized there were five men and only four seats.

"Yes," Crawford chimed in. "To further keep order in the house, it would help to have more heads at the table that is."

"And it's been decided after some deliberating," Erik continued, "That your talents would be suited into aiding us with that."

Gerik blinked. "Me? You...You want my help with the house? After everything that's happened? And that's happened due to my brutish actions?"

Erik's rolled his golden eyes that glowed in the dim room. "As if we are sinless saints. Not a wise set of decisions you've made Monsieur, but hardly irredeemable."

"But what about Lerik? He's a more universal face than I am. And he actually lives on the main floor."

Lerik signed his piece but Erik translated as Gerik was still getting the hang of sign language.

"He says that the floor of cinematics could use a more modern face to seek out leadership. And... now now Monsieur I wouldn't say you're a relic! Ahem. Needless to say he feels with yours being the first one people turn to of the Phantom...'filmies' as some housemates have dubbed your kind, it makes quite logically sense you be their representative. He'll still do his share to help as you reside upstairs, but feels that of the two you should primarily be the one for them to turn to." The original opera ghost explained. After signing his piece Lerik took his quiet leave with a waving gesture.

"But I don't understand why I'm here?" Karimloo asked, indicating to the elder Merik. "We have you for our floor of the house?"

Crawford nodded, "Which you still do. Unlike Monsieur Lerik's voluntary resignation I am not going anywhere. However I cannot do this alone. Monsieur Gerik has the benefit of lesser numbers on the cinematic floor. But there are just too many on our portion of the house for me alone to manage. And your face is quite one that gets around more easily and draws attention."

"I would say this non negotiable but I will ask you gentlemen to make your choice. But I highly advise against refusal." Erik clasped his hands together and elbows propped on the table. Crawford pulled out his usual seat, his throne darker than the light mahogany of Erik's but equally well crafted to suit his persona.

Karimloo nodded, "Alright."

Crawford gestured to a seat similar to his own but with varied changes, Karimloo quietly took his new seat.

Gerik bit his lower lip. He wanted to say no and stay out of public spotlight. But really that felt quite unavoidable.

"Damn the theatrical release," Gerik grumbled. "Ok, I accept."

"Take a seat," Erik chided.

Gerik's throne was a little more lavish than the Meriks' chairs and he felt surprisingly at ease sitting down.  

"Excellent, now onto our first matter this evening..."

Erik groaned hearing footsteps frantically coming downstairs.

"I should have installed alarms..." He grumbled, "What now?!"

"We have a few...unexpected guests." Cherik said timidly, "Strange fellows actually. I'm not really sure who to ask."

The original opera ghost shook his head.

"We will continue the meeting later this evening. Monsieur Crawford, I'm assuming the door is for you again."

The masked men joined Cherik up the stairs to be met with a very strange sight indeed.

"We were told this is where we should go for a place to stay?" A quartet of abnormally shaped masks greeted them.

"Are we to speak to you? Perhaps you know Monsieur Davis, he's staying here too?" A man of dark skin and enormous height-practically dwarfing everyone in the room-inquired to the Merik.

Crawford nodded, "He is, he's been shifting around quite frequently on our floor, doesn't seem to feel right anywhere poor fellow."

"There are a few more of us waiting in your lobby-" A stubbly masked man asked before being interrupted by one of his companions.

"Foyer!"

"Ah sorry, foyer."

The elder Merik paused hatching an idea.

"Actually, you would be better to speak with my companion here." He said indicating to Gerik who blinked shaking his head.

"What? What are you on about Crawford??" He asked nervously "They're with your adaptions clan."

"Yes and no. It's become apparent Monsieur Davis since arriving has been having much difficulty adjusting to our idiosyncrasies. They follow the criteria of our adaption but the wild ideas they have, sound a little more like your interpretation."

Gerik and Crawford glanced back at the group, while certainly dressed like the Meriks, their curled up wig piece and in some lack of appropriate grooming said otherwise to resemble the mismatch eyed Merik's charges.

"I'm not insinuating they stay on the first floor. They certainly don't belong there, however I fear they won't do so well herded with us. But perhaps on the third floor they could acquire more free reign of their own, and some structure from you. As I understand it you do have a variety of vacancy up there as well-unfortunately the Brazilians and Germans with new tours have had to share three per room due to so little available space on our floor."

Gerik shuffled his dress shoes against the carpet, "I don't know, what if I-"

"I'm confident in you, besides already they seem quite taken with you."

Both men noticed the quartet was practically ogling at Gerik, as if waiting for further instruction.

The film adaption sighed, "Well alright. Gentlemen, if you'll fetch your other companions I'll lead you upstairs."

Watching the men tote behind Gerik, Karimloo stood beside Crawford.

"Monsieur is this wise?" The younger West End asked.

"I wouldn't suggest it if I thought it rash. And I wasn't exaggerating, our floor is at quite capacity even with the West End Wing fully restored. Go see to Panaro, I'll fetch you when it's time for the meeting again."

Karimloo nodded, "Right, it's leg day for me anyway."

--

The West End groom was nervous as ever.

"This waiting tries my patience!" Karimloo grumbled, nervously patting down his wig.

"Calm yourself," Wilkinson badgered, wiping away a speck of lint off the younger Merik's shoulder. "All will go smoothly, don't worry about it."

"I'm just nervous, Pan wants this day to go so well-"

"And it will. Becoming flustered won't do either of you any good. This is your time to be happy in that moment that not all of us got the chance to have."

The conversation was cut short as the double doors opened.

Wilkinson took his place alongside  Mr. Y and Fraser, the former two groomsmen giving Karimloo an approving nod. Sierra walked down the aisle, leading the bridesmaids behind her. The ladies took their place on the opposing side of the groomsmen and best man. Before taking her seat, Sierra gave Karimloo a hug and a tiny peck on his masked cheek.

"Congratulations," She smiled giddily departing to her seat.  

The men and women, Phantoms, sopranos, and the very few outisders alike rose. Lerik's wedding mass began, the mute man swaying to the tune. While advising it would be better if Gerik kept his distance from the ceremony, he did call in a favor of the mute maestro to play for the upcoming wedding.

Karimloo swallowed the lump in his throat as footsteps were heard from the doorway. His mouth felt dry seeing his fiancee.

Panaro stepped down the aisle, Crawford escorting him to his right. The Broadway man was glad the older Merik agreed to walk him down the aisle, his leg's trembled as if made of gelatin seeing his fiancee awaiting him.

Behind the two Soot-with the care of Meghan-trotted happily with a basket of rose petals in his mouth. Gustave beside the canine and his mother happily tossing a few out of the basket by small handfuls.

Arriving at the alter, Crawford shook hands with Karimloo, giving Panaro away to the West End man. Patting Panaro on the back, the older Merik took his seat beside Sarah as did Meghan and Gustave.

"Kari..." Panaro breathed. The West End Merik always looked dashing in his eyes, especially today.

Gerik was not the only one calling in favors as after some negotiating, Kerik agreed and had made a call back to an old acquaintance in Rouen. After all, an ordained minister was required to complete the two men tying the knot.  

Father Mansart cleared his throat.

"Gentlemen, ladies we are gathered on this evening. To bring together in a holy matrimony before God, these two men that stand before you." The greying priest turned to the Meriks'. "I'm to understand you've written vows for each other?"

"We have," Karimloo said. He gave a glance to Wilkinson whom signaled Lerik.

The mute nodded, playing the familiar solo all Meriks' knew by heart.

"Something old," The West End Merik smirked at the familiarity of Music of the Night.

As if on cue, Mr. Y stepped forward with a fancy black gold box in hand.

Opening it before the two gentlemen revealing two twin gold bands with a series of hand crafted weaving etched into them, and a small onyx stone stamped into each ring.

"Something new," Panaro spoke softly placing one of the rings on Karimloo's bare ringfinger.

"Something borrowed," Karimloo responded, nodding to his counterpart wearing a cravat around his neck.

Panaro chuckled, pulling on the matching cravat Karimloo wore in place of his bowtie as well.

"You're welcome," Y whispered with a smile before rejoining Wilkinson and Fraser. After he had gone through plenty of cravats after giving so many away, what was two more?

Removing two flowers from his lapel, the Broadway Merik placed one in his own lapel, and the other in Karimloo's. While the groomsmen wore red roses in theirs the two betrothed were a sapphire color that seemed to shimmer in the chandelier's vibrant light.

"And something blue,"

"Kari..." Panaro cleared his throat. "Our time in the house, our time together has made me feel whole where I felt lost and alone once upon a time down in the catacombs. Even through the bad, we still made it, and I want us to continue making it together. And just that anywhere you go, I just ask of you that you let me go too."

Karimloo had to hold back the tears, already feeling his eyes grow watery.

"I remember a time when I was was angry and wanted nothing more than to be left alone. I'd felt abandoned and forgotten. Since then everyone in this house has paved the way to me seeing more out of my existence. But you... Pan, you just give me more and make me question what I thought I knew I needed. I was wrong in what I had said years passed. It is not my Christine, but you Monsieur that can make my song take flight."

The masked men clasped hand in hand, recited after Father Mansart in christening they would take the other as their wedded husband.

"And if anyone at all should address why these two should not be wed together, let them please speak now or forever hold your peace." The holy man addressed the crowd.

"I swear if Gerik comes bursting through that door." Panaro grumbled.

"Shh," Karimloo softly chuckled.

Feeling successful with no immediate answer, Father Mansart smiled upon the two men.

"Then by the power invested with me, I pronounce the two of you married." Closing his book with a friendly shrug addressing either man. "I suppose either of you may kiss your husband."

And with a kiss sealed the Meriks' newly sealed marriage.

FINALLY right? And as always:

-The cowboy bar discussion is based off another instastory of Bronson Norris Murphy’s where he’s seen dancing in a cowboy hat-and possibly spurs on his shoes-still dressed as Mr. Y

-Gerik having padding in his pants is reference to the very real fact that during the 2004 movie Joel Shumacher (likely or possibly even Webber) had Gerard Butler wear padding around his buttocks-which you can see very clearly during final lair.

-Lerik being described as more universal is an obvious reference to Lon Chaney’s being considered to be the Universal Studios movie monster Phantom-even though Universal always advertises Claude Rains Phantom over Lon Chaney

-Unlike most of the PotO movies, the 2004 version did have a theatrical run when it came out.

-The rest of the restaged Phantoms are here! Described among a few are Quentin Oliver Lee’s, Mark Campbell, Cooper Grodin, and Chris Mann. There are several other actors and understudies but these are the new Phantoms mentioned in this scene. Crawford saddling them with Gerik is due to how similar and how the the restaged show has more parallels to the 2004 movie as oppose to the West End and Broadway original versions.

-In real life the actual Ramin has a plant named Robyn

Sheet music crumpled and incomplete was strewed about everywhere, 

Karimloo noted several wine bottles on the desk, all of them empty. His gaze softened seeing the figure laying on the floor.

Panaro's was passed out sitting up, his back propped against the side of the bed. His wig was gone, as was the mask. The few tuffs on his head were more untame and wild than the Broadway Merik's hair normally was. His face was contorted, his head shaking back and forth. Karimloo knew Panaro suffered from night terrors. The West End Merik did as well, but his had subsided much more than Panaro's had.

Kneeling down, he slowly reached over placing his hand on Panaro's shoulder with a gentle squeeze.

While gentle, the contact jolted Panaro awake as the Broadway Merik's eyes darted around before focusing on the masked man.

"K-Kari?" Panaro blinked, crawling away. "I....If you're here I shouldn't be. I'll leave."

"No!" Karimloo yanked him back down as Panaro tried to stagger to his feet. "Don't go..."

Panaro shrunk away, "Please, I don't want you to see me like this. Or at all, considering my behaviour."

Karimloo sat down with him, turning Panaro around to face him. "I was angry with you, part of me is still angry with you." Karimloo shook his head, "But learning from the past has shown me it's not healthy to dwell on mistakes."

Panaro covered his face with the palms of his hands.

"I don't deserve forgiveness. I betrayed you."

Pulling away his hands, Karimloo's replaced them, caressing the sides of his face. Panaro couldn't help but sigh feeling the West End Merik's fingers trace over both the unscathed and deformed halves of his face.

"I don't wish to shun you," Karimloo let a smile creep over his face. "How can I possibly do that to my angel?"

Panaro's swollen lips trembled, "Why? What are you saying?" 

Taking one of Panaro's hands in his, the West End Merik sang.

"Say you'll share with me, one love one lifetime."

"Lead me, save me from my solitude" Panaro joined in, feeling the strong safe grip on his hand. He almost didn't notice the ring Karimloo slipped on his finger with his free hand.

"Say you want me with you here, beside you."

Panaro's eyes widened. The ring was gold plated, similar to the one he wore on his pinky. It had a blend of white diamonds and onyx black gemstones encrusted in the band.

"That was why I went to see Sierra. I needed help settling on the right one." Karimloo answered. "If you'll accept it."

"A promise ring?"

Karimloo shook his head, "I should hope you know this is much more than that."

Propping himself up on one knee from his sitting position, Karimloo's almond brown eyes gazed into Panaro's.

"Anywhere you go, let me go too. Marry me, that's all I ask of you."

Panaro's hands were shaking, his eyes darting between Karimloo's and the engagement ring perfectly snug on his finger.

"Yes!" Panaro answered no louder than a whisper. His mouth agape, feeling absolutely numb as he felt the West End Merik's arms weave around him.

--

Gerik glumly tapped on the organ keys.

"Say, do you think you think you could help me with a project I'm working on?" Cherik asked, watching the white rat crawling up his arm. After several baths the redhead was quite surprised to say the least that her hair wasn't naturally brown. Receiving no answer he continued, "I've designed a little home for Polo, but I'm not so skilled with a scale so minuscule. Could I borrow your hands for this project? Monsieur Y's told me about your models."

"Sure, sounds fine." Gerik sighed.

He was in sulky slump, word on the second floor always travelled fast in the house. News of Karimloo and Panaro's engagement had already gotten out quick throughout the place. While Gerik knew his admiration from afar for Karimloo would never go any further than a one sided crush, it left a hole in his heart seeing the two joint at the hip again ever since they made up.

It was hard to concentrate. Gerik was suppose to meet Erik for another lesson, but the master of the house had to postpone due to an errand of significant importance. Mr. Y had left for a few days to pay visit to Anna and Gustauve. Now he was left alone with his sorrow filled thoughts.

Kerik slammed the book he was reading down on the sofa.

"This is enough! You've been playing the same single key for over twenty minutes!" The novelized man scowled. Pulling Gerik up from his seat by the ends of his suit jacket he dragged the film adapted man with him. "Come with me Gerry."

"I'm not in the mood tonight Kerik," He sighed.

"That's not what I was referring to. Though it could lead into that." Kerik smirked mumbling the last sentence.

"What then?" Gerik asked, still being up to the second floor and down to opposing man's quarters.

"You're going to just sit down and listen." Kerik patted his shoulder, as he cleared his throat. Despite what the others may have thought Kerik wasn't without a concience. He could care less about the Meriks, nothing was ever intimate or personal with the arrangement he made to any willing masked man in his bed. But something made him uneasy seeing Gerik in such a slump. And watching him watching Karimloo stirred a familiar pit of anger in his being.

But no. Kerik couldn't possibly be jealous of that attention. Right?

He was paying little mind to what was happening around him as he sang and hadn't registered the dazed look of awe and wonder in Gerik's blue eyes.

"How do you manage to do that?" He asked mesmerised by the beauty he had just heard. As if his mind were transported to a safer tranquil state of mind. 

Kerik shrugged, "My voice always has a way with people. Do you feel a little better at least?"

"I do...Thanks."

"Still not in the mood tonight?" Kerik asked, a whimsically musical tone to his voice. He felt a smirk pull at his thin lips, as he teasingly pulled at Gerik's dark red cravat.

"I....I guess I could change my mind..." Gerik mumbled feeling a hazy trance overcome him.

"Good, good."

--

"Now now Polo, slow down!" Cherik called, the rat scampered down the hallway. 

It came to an abrupt stop, it's beady eyes glancing up at Cherik as it ran around in circles before clawing at the adjacent wall. The rodent jingled as she scampered due to the tiny bell she wore.

The redhead smiled, "I think that's enough excitement for today my tiny dear."

But as he kneeled down to scoop up the rodent, he heard a soft click.

"Hm?" He hummed, as Polo's tail had snagged on some sort of tiny switch. A door opened where the wall once stood. While it was common knowledge that the house had upon many secret passages, they were all well maintained.

This passage however looked almost abandoned. Like the others it was dark, but even the main passages were albeit dimly lit. Large cobwebs as thick as drapery's were everywhere along the walls, Cherik felt a gusty chill in his bones coming from the passage. 

Placing Polo in his pocket, Cherik cautiously continued down the corridor. It just seemed like an empty corridor, but the redhead could swear he heard voices up ahead.

"I just don't understand it, my name shouldn't be thrown about like that. I'm not some lovesick fool. Nothing was wrong with what I did."

"Well there was the 'you were her father' thing-"

"That is not true!"

"It almost was?"

Cherik blinked, while he didn't necessarily recognise the voice, something felt strangely nostalgic and familiar about them.

Suddenly Cherik froze hearing Polo squirm in his pocket, her collar jingling.

His blue eyes widened looking up to see a lantern light fixed right on him.

"Who are-" The first voice said and paused. His eyes were met with that of an older man, his hair greying. He wore a suit and black cravat. He had on a fedora but unlike the Meriks his was larger, and his mask big and bulky concealed most of his face.

The man opposite him wore a complete mask, save for one eye that was exposed. His hair longer and more wild than the formers, but he too wore a similar black coat and necktie. 

"Wait do we know you?"

~In Susan Kay’s Phantom, Erik’s voice has a very hypnotic effect as seen in the very early chapters following Madeliene and also with Nadir when they hear him sing.

~And enter Erique Claudin (played by Claude Rains in the 1943 film) and Professor Petrie (played by Herbert Lom in the 1962 film)

Mauer jumped back, taken by surprise at the unmasked mute's presence and lack of mask.

Lerik was surprised to hear the ruckus coming from Crawford's door.

Several Meriks' lingered nearby, looking rather concerned and uneasy.

"What's going on?" Lerik scribbled on his board.

"Crawford and Sarah hit a reef the other day," Joback commented with a frown.

"Poor man's been pretty shaken since it seems," Warlow added.

Lerik pointed to the door, "But what is THAT?"

"Adele is his go to music when he's upset."

Lerik blinked, before scribbling again. "Who?"

"I'll try talking to him." Jones said, gently weaved passed the Meriks'.

“Good luck. Monsieur Fantome tried earlier, I don’t think it made things worse but it didn’t help matters either.”

Trying the knob, he found it unlocked.

We could have had it all,

Rolling in the deep.

You had my heart inside your hand,

And you played it to the beat

Jones frowned sadly at his friend. As the music blared, the older Merik was slumped over the desk. While Crawford's back was to Jones, he could see the mask discarded beside him.

Reaching over, Jones turned the sound system down. Crawford didn't even poke his head up at the disturbance.

"Perhaps you need to do something to take your mind off this?" Jones suggested hopefully.

"The music isn't coming to me right now." The older Merik croaked "It's all just jumbled and incomplete without..."

"Maybe something else? We could play another round of chess?"

"Please, just leave me alone."

Jones frowned, putting a hand on Crawford's shoulder. "I just want to help."

Turning to face him, he had certainly seen better days. Even the unscathed half of his face looked worn and tired. 

Wiping at his already red rimmed eyes, Crawford shook his head. "While I appreciate the sentiment I don't think there's anything you can do to remedy the situation."

--

Panaro was beside himself what to do.

Soot trotted over to his masked master, the latter proceeding to rub the labradoodle's ears.

"What can I do boy? I was so foolish." He frowned.

"You're still upset I see?"

The Broadway man jolted up hearing that familiar tenor.

"K-Kari!" Panaro stuttered in surprise at being startled by the West End man. 

"What are you doing here? I thought you weren't due back until this evening?"

Closing the door to their room behind him, Karimloo nodded.

"I was suppose to, but I had to come back." The Merik sighed, "I understand how it must have felt for you. I admit I may have become a little jealous myself if you said you were paying Sandra or Mary an unexpected visit."

Panaro blinked, "I...No no it's alright...I just."

"I told Sierra I had to leave early, I couldn't keep thinking about how upset you must have been." Karimloo pulled the hand he had behind his back out holding out a single red rose.

"Forgive me?" Karimloo asked.

Reaching out, Panaro took the offered rose, his thumb and index finger stroked one of the soft petals.

"Of course,"

"Thank you," Karimloo smiled pulling his partner closer. "C'mere."

Panaro felt his concerns and worry just melt away as the West End man's malformed lips were pressed against his own mishapen ones.

Karimloo reached up, curling his fingers along the edge of Panaro's mask. His eyes were dazed slits that asked for the Broadway man's permission. Panaro weakly nodded.

Placing the mask on the adjacent desk table, Karimloo continued his advances, enjoying the feel of Panaro's deformed and twisted flesh against his hand. 

Panaro felt his coat be pulled down off his shoulders. He sighed tilting his head back once Karimloo had pushed him onto the bed and had climbed overtop of him. He could feel Karimloo fumbling to release the confides of his bowtie.  

"W-What's that?" Karimloo asked, breaking the trance he had Panaro in.

Sitting up, Panaro looked up in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

Getting off the bed, Karimloo rummaged in the very back of the desk drawer, pulling out a dust coated mirror. Wiping the dust away with his sleeve, Karimloo held the handheld glass out for Panaro.

"What. Is. That?" Karimloo asked again, his voice a little more icy.

Panaro's face went white as a sheet, looking back at his reflection. But it wasn't his face that caused a heavy feeling in his gut.

It was the fresh teeth marks Kerik had left on his neck.

"I...I.." Panaro mumbled. "I just..."

"You were mad about me seeing a friend and then you would sneak around behind my back?" Karimloo gaped.

"No...Well yes. No but I mean I almost did but-"

"What do you mean almost?!" Karimloo was angry by this point, "Do I even want to know who it was?"

"No you probably don't want to," Panaro hung his head in shame. "Please, Kari. I am so sorry. It was just kissing, nothing happened."

Karimloo crossed his arms, "Just kissing. As if I don't feel denied and betrayed enough."

Panaro stood and tried to place his hands on the West End man's shoulders. 

"You are my partner, you are my angel. Please, I am so sorry."

But Karimloo shrugged him off, backing away.

"Keep away from me."

Before Panaro could say another word, Karimloo stormed out slamming the door behind him. Reaching over, Panaro cradled the rose to his chest. Soot trotted over to him with a concerned whine as his master broke down on the floor a sobbing mess.

"Kari, please forgive me." Panaro whimpered, "I can't lose you..."

--

Sarah opened the door to see Jones crouched over on the side attempting to slip something under her door.

The masked Merik blinked looking up at her and stood.

"Oh! Um good day Sarah," Jones smiled nervously.

Sarah frowned, "What are you doing here?"

"I came to give you something."

"Come in then," She offered as Jones stepped inside, "Wait, Crawford didn't send you here did he?"

Jones held his hands up in innocent defence. "No, no he didn't. I'm not sure he even knows I'm here. He seemed rather out of it when I left."

Sarah turned around, "What do you mean 'out of it'?"

"I shouldn't really say, it's not my place."

Sarah crossed her arms. Sure she was mad at him at the moment, but she would hate to hear something bad happened.

"Anyway, I came here to bring you this." Jones said handing the brunette a stack of papers.

"What are these?" Sarah asked.

Jones just gestured to the papers, "Open it"

She did so, noticing the familiar red handwriting that read 'For my Sarah'. After the cover page she could see handwritten sheet music and accompanying lyrics.

Her pale eyes glanced at Jones dark blue ones.

"Go ahead," The Merik gestured.

Clearing her throat, the chestnut haired woman sang.

If I ever fall in love again,

It'll be with someone just like you.

I don't say that I'm in love again

But on the day you came my way, I knew.

If I ever fall in love again,

This is just the way it ought to be,

But if it's really love again,

I'll leave to fate, I'd rather wait and see.

Sarah stopped, reading through the rest. She stared up at the Merik.

"He wrote this for me, didn't he?" She asked, a hand over her heart exasperated.

Jones nodded, "That's why Dale was over that day. Since he'd heard her before he needed someone with a fair voice to sing it rather than do so himself. That's why Crawford didn't tell you about her being over, the song was meant to be a surprise."

Sarah blinked shaking her head, "Oh I feel terrible. I can't imagine how he must be feeling. Please promise nothing bad's happened?"

His eyes seemed to reflect the sad truth he was hiding. "Maybe you should just talk to him? If you two really love each other, there's no reason why things can't work out right?"

Sarah sighed, "I'll....I'll think about it. Thank you for stopping by and bringing me this."

The Merik nodded, "I just don't want my friend to get hurt."

Before he left she brought him in for a hug.

Pulling away she said, "That's the last thing I want to do to him."

--

Cherik smiled down at his new furry companion.

"That's much better isn't it?" He asked, the rat tilted his head squeaking up at him.

Since liberating the close to death rodent, Cherik had given it five much needed years of its life back. It no longer smelled like it had crawled out of a sewage pipe and had been well groomed and trimmed since then. Although the only thing it seemed to have a problem with was when Cherik attempted to put a ribbon around its neck.

Or at least the red one, the blue ribbon still remained neatly fastened.

The rat scampered down on the piano keys, down to the floor and through the ajar door.

"Want to run around then?" Cherik asked, chasing after it. "Must be careful of the cat though."

But as he opened the door his eyes were met with that of Jerik's dark disturbed ones, whom currently clutched the squirming rodent.

"Just what have you done?!" The long haired man asked flabbergasted.

The redhead raised a brow from behind his mask, "I fail to understand what you mean? I've been taking care of her is all."

"B-But she smells so...so-"

"I think monsieur, the word you're looking for is clean."

"And this?!" Jerik asked tugging on the ribbon.

"She likes it. Now stop squeezing her like that! Polo is getting scared" Cherik protested taking back the rat.

Jerik blinked, "Polo? What kind of nonsense name is that?"

Cherik huffed, petting the rat's trembling head. "For your information she likes it. And as I am a better caretaker she is no longer your cause for concern."

Turning back around, Cherik closed the door on the long haired man's face.

--

Harley wasted no time heading toward the park. He knew Sarah had agreed to meet Crawford here. So once the older Merik had left, Harley waited a few minutes before following him discreetly.

He was quite giddy to say the least. Surely Sarah had invited him to finally end things, and Harley was more than happy to be there to comfort the brunette.

His smirk all too noticeable behind the metallic mask, Harley ducked behind a nearby willow as he spied Sarah coming down the park trail.

Crawford's tired eyes lit up seeing Sarah. He stood from where he was seated at the bench as they mere steps away from each other.

"Good morning," The older Merik greeted her, taking off the fedora.

Sarah nodded, "Morning. You seem good."

Crawford shook his head, "I really don't, but as always you're very kind."

"I'm-"

But before she could say her piece, he interrupted her.

"May I go first?" Crawford asked. "Please, before you go any further I just need to tell you."

"Alright."

"If you need to leave in order to be happy, I understand. I let you go once before remember?" He smiled sadly. "I don't want to of course. You have to know I've always loved you. All I want for you is your happiness, but if you wish to end this in order to have that, I will leave you be."

Sarah shook her head, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand.

"My turn," She said quietly.

'Here it comes!' Harley thought eagerly to himself.

But before any of them understood what was happening, Sarah grasped the lapels of Crawford's coat through the heavy cloak he wore and kissed his malformed lips. Both Crawford and Harley's eyes were wide with shock, the former's hands nervously trembled at his sides.

Pulling away, Sarah wrapped her arms around him, she could hear his heart beat erratically.

"I don't want to end anything, I just wanted to say I'm so sorry." Sarah mumbled. 

"I jumped to conclusions and it wasn't very fair of me to do to you. Jones came by, he showed me the song you wrote for me. It was truly beautiful."

She rested a hand along his masked cheek, looking up at him.

"I love you," Sarah smiled, seeing the one of joy and relief cross the unmasked half of his face.  

"I could never stop loving you if I tried my dear," He confessed, caressing her small hand in his.

Sarah let her arms loop around Crawford's neck, pulling him in for another hug.

"Michael..." She sighed happily.

It was a very rare instance for any of the Meriks' to be called on by their given name. All the more signifying how much he meant to her after all.

Behind the willow, Harley sunk to his knees shaking his head. He had meant to break them apart and instead they were all the more closer.

This truly was not his day.

--

"I just can't believe he would do that," Karimloo shook his head glumly as he paced the room.

Mr. Y sat across from him, "I'm not trying to defend his actions by any means, but he was pretty upset."

Since the argument, the West End man was offered a temporary place to stay with him on the third floor. The two were unlikely but pretty well off friends once they'd gotten to talking when Gerik was absent.

"I may not be the best one for advice on this," The older man admitted, "But perhaps you two should talk it out. It was only kissing, it's not like he and Kerik actually went through with it."

Karimloo's shoulders tensed as he whipped back around.

"It was KERIK?!" THe Merik hissed, his brown eyes seething with anger.

"You didn't know? I thought he told you," Y blinked-a rare instance when he did so.

The older man sighed as with a roar Karimloo slammed his fists down against the wall in rage.

"I'll punjab both of them!" The West End men growled through gritted teeth. Standing up, Y patted his angry masked friend's back.

"Don't do anything rash-we've all already made one too many rash decisions in our past."

Karimloo sighed. He glanced down at the floor hearing a familiar sound

Still you don't walk through the door

And in a haze, I count the silent days

Till I hear you sing once more

Panaro sang, or attempted to do so without getting choked up. He had heard Karimloo sing it many times when he thought no one was listening.

And sometimes at nighttime

I dream that you are there

But wake, holding nothing but the empty air

Upstairs Karimloo and Y glanced at each other.

"I mean it's already been a few days," Y shrugged, "You can't be mad at him forever? You two should talk."

Karimloo felt low and saddened hearing the choked up notes coming through from downstairs.

"Maybe you're right..." --

Joback sat in the parlor, happily situated at the organ singing to the instruments low groan.

"Glad to hear you singing again. But your pitch sounds rather higher than it normal-" Jones paused, seeing the Swedish man in the parlor. "My apologies! I thought Crawford was in here."

Joback shrugged, "Not the first time I've heard that. I’ll be away for a little while. That’s why I was working on my reps you see."

He continued, "Speaking of, things seem better. He came home not too long ago looking quite happy to say the least."

Wilkinson seated nearby nodded "That's true. You had something to do with it didn't you?"

Jones looked over, "I just didn't want anyone getting hurt."

The former Merik smiled, "Good for you stepping up. You're not such a bad leader after all."

"R-Really?" Jones stammered, feeling himself blush behind the half mask. "I suppose I- Oh my! What's the time?"

Joback checked his pocketwatch. "Just after eight?"

Standing upright, Jones straightened his jacket, "I told Cherik I would meet him for some practice together on a duet. Excuse me gentlemen."

~The following songs featured were:

-Rolling in the Deep by Adele

-If I Ever Fall in Love Again by Sarah Brightman

-Till I Hear You Sing by Ramin Karimloo

~In an interview back in 2012 among other topics Crawford said he enjoyed Adele when asked about anything modern he’s listened to.

~Polo is a reference to Teri Polo, the actress that played Christine as well as Belladova in the PotO tv miniseries. 

 ~As Peter Joback is set up to be Broadway’s newest Phantom albeit temporarily I couldn’t resist inserting that in an easter egg fashion somehow

The Broadway man scoffed, "Didn't stop Y when Anna was still seeing Gleeson. I've even seen you two hanging around each other lately."

Karimloo pointed a finger at his partner, "Leave him out of this, this is about me. And it's NOT going to be like that. I'm going and that's final!"

Panaro glared at the West End man, "Fine, do what you want! See if I care."

Karimloo's eyes softened with a sad gaze.

"Please-" He said reaching out but Panaro flinched away.

"Don't." He hissed, storming out.

--

Erik drummed his fingers, listening intently.

"Alright that's enough," The full masked man said, "Any longer and you'll strain your voice too much using that note."

Gerik exhaled, still somewhat shaken. "H-How was that?"

"It was...acceptable."

The movie adapted man blinked, "Really?"

Erik couldn't help but allow a prideful smile to spread on his mask concealed face.

"Yes, still you need work. But you are on the way to being a decent tenor if I may say so."

"Thank you," Gerik smiled. "If I may ask, not that I'm ungrateful, but why are you being so nice to me? Imagined you disliked me as much as everyone else seems to if not moreso."

Erik sighed, "At first I did, afterall compared to myself your condition is a first degree burn. But at the same time I know how it feels to be ostracised as such. 

Every member in this house knows how that feels-well except for that vermin with the pet pests perhaps."

Gerik's gaze was downtrodden. "I do wish I could be accepted a little more. I mean Y understands this as well, he's quite nice actually."

The full masked man nodded, placing a hand on the other's broad shoulder.

"Things will be ok, you have my word." Golden eyes softened as he spoke.

--

"Does no one think to answer the phone when it rings?" Harley grumbled, picking up the receiver. "Hello?"

"Oh, Harley? Is that you?" A familiar voice asked.

He blinked, "Sarah? Yes! I um. Well how are you?"

"I'm well thank you. Could you tell Crawford it's me? I'm certain he's left that contraption of his on silent again," She chuckled on the other end.

Harley's gleaming expression was brought down at the mention of the older Merik.

He sighed, "Of course, just a moment."

The unofficial masked man walked down the hall, but Harley's brow rose from behind his mask. Not that it was uncommon to hear singing on the Meriks' floor.

But the voice coming from Crawford's room wasn't his own this time.

"Who is that?" Harley asked.

"Not that it's any of your concern, but he invited Dale over." Carpenter noted with a glare, stepping past Harley towards the parlour.

"Dale?"

"She's helping him with an aria he wrote for Sarah."

While it wasn't unusual to see a past flame from one of the Meriks' pasts come to the house by this point, Sarah was the only one Crawford ever had over.

Like that Harley concocted a terrible idea.

Returning to the phone with a smirk he came back to the line.

"Yes so sorry about that Sarah. I'm afraid Crawford is a little preoccupied with Dale you see."

"Dale? I don't understand?" Sarah asked, confused.

"Oh yes! She's singing for him right now actually, really it's been going on for hours. Quite a harmonious pair really, to think they got together like this out of the blue! If you want I can interrupt and let him know you're on the line?"

"I...No. No that's alright. Thank you, I'll try him again later I suppose."

"Of course I understand. Have a pleasant night." Harley said before hanging up.

Strutting into the parlour he took a seat, Carpenter glaring back at him, "What are you smiling about?"

Harley shook his head, poorly attempting to hide a victorious grin.

"Nothing at all."

--

"How are you adjusting?" Jones asked as Davis flinched. "Oh, sorry. Didn't mean to startle you."

"It's alright, well it's very overwhelming."

The former Merik smiled at the latter, "It'll pass, I remember when I started out too. Not just talking about life here in the house."

"I know I differ from everyone else though, you don't suppose that's off putting to them do you?" Davis asked, catching the wisp of hair from his wig as he ran a hand through it.

"Nonsense, you're still one of us. Besides it could be much worse, at least you're not in Gerik's position."

Davis blinked, "I'm not sure that I've met him yet?"

"Best to just keep your distance."

The men looked up hearing a groan suddenly come from the organ that was a moment being played harmoniously.

"Damn!" Panaro exclaimed, getting up from the piano bench, storming out.

"What's the matter with him?" Davis asked.

Jones sighed, "He and Karimloo are going through a rough patch is all. He'll cool off eventually."

--

Cherik was humming aloud to himself, playing a piece Winslow had shown him. 

It was quite lovely to the full masked redhead. He blinked hearing a scuttle and then followed by an angry growl.

He glanced at the door, seeing it was now ajar.

"Hello?" Cherik asked, he not often received visitors aside from Winslow or Jones.

He heard a mismatch tune coming from the piano. Cherik glanced back over and saw Ayesha climbing on the keys. Her ears were flat against her skull as the 

Siamese hissed at something.

Opposite Ayesha was a dirtied hunk of fur crawling away from the ravenous cat. 

It seemed yet another one of Jerik's rats had unknowingly waltzed into the house.

And naturally Ayesha was an excellent mouser.

The creature squeaked in fear attempting to scuttle away from the Siamese.

But fortunately for the rat, Cherik scooped it up before Ayesha's sharp claws could sink into the furry flesh.

"Go on," The redhead shooed away the confused cat. "Leave this one."

Ayesha paced around groaning in protest but eventually grew bored and slinked out.

With the cat gone, Cherik set the rat down glancing down at it. It scuttled towards his foot, sniffing his shoe curiously.

"Hm, well you're in need of a wash that's for certain." Cherik stated.

The rodent glanced quizzically at him.

"It'll be alright, it's not your fault Jerik's a poor caregiver." The redhead smiled.

--

Panaro was hesitant when he stood in front of the door. He could turn around and change his mind. This was wrong, a voice screamed inside that he shouldn't do this.

But that other voice in his head whispered for him to knock as his knuckles made contact with the door.

Even so a huge part of him felt like the arrangement he had set up earlier was a mistake.

"Didn't expect to see you here," Kerik stated.

"Listen, I'll skip to the point. One night, that's all I want." Panaro glared, neither men were on very steady ground with the other. But Kerik never passed anyone up that knocked on his door.

But still he was curious.

"What, trouble in paradise Webber boy?"

"I don't want to talk about it Kerik. You know what I want. One night, no questions, no strings attached."

The full masked man nodded with a smirk, "Fine, consider it done. It's no skin off my back, come by later tonight if that's what you want."

Kerik opened the door, yellow gold eyes gleamed back at Panaro's dark brown.

"Welcome to my humble abode," Kerik said, chuckling as the Merik coughed inhaling the strong smell. "All you Broadways' are the same way with that for some reason. Don't have as strong lungs as West End for some reason."

At the mention of that Panaro bit his lower lip, thinking of Karimloo.

The Merik tried to shake away these thoughts.

"Should we get started?" He asked, adjusting the lapels of his jackets.

Kerik, whom was pouring a glass of what Panaro assumed to be wine. "So eager?"

Panaro shifted back and forth as the novelised man downed his glass after the Merik declined.

"Alright then," Kerik said, setting the empty glass down.

Panaro felt Kerik's hands wrap around his wrists, pulling down the tailcoat sleeves

"Why don't we get started on this..." Kerik practically purred in the Merik's ear as the latter shuddered. As the novelised man was making short work of removing Panaro's coat, the Merik felt thin smooth lips pressed against his larger malformed ones.

He then felt his bowtie become undone and discarded, the opposing man already pulling on the top buttons.

Panaro hadn't meant to, but he felt his shoulders relax as a moan escaped him as Kerik inched his lips and teeth down to his throat.

"I see this is your sweet spot." Kerik remarked, noticing to teeth marks raked along Panaro's neck and collarbone.

The Broadway man eyes rolled back into his head, feeling the other man nip and suck on the exposed flesh. He leaned in, gripping the other man's arms, craving more of this feeling.

But through the haze he kept seeing a familiar pair of brown eyes Where Kerik's lanky needle scarred arm around him was his mind envisioned that arm bigger and lined with tattoos.

"Kari..." Panaro whimpered, feeling his partner's nickname slip through his lips as he was pushed onto the bed.

When Kerik got as far as undoing Panaro's belt, that's when the Merik's hands went up to stop the advance.

"I-I'm....I'm sorry. I can't do this after all. I-I changed my mind." The Broadway man shook his head, sitting up as Kerik backed off.

"I figured you would," Kerik shrugged, "Though I expected you to say no sooner."

Panaro hurriedly threw his clothes back on, "Do I really seem that weak to you?"

"Not weak, faithful."

The Merik flinched at the word, he didn't bother looking back as now fully dressed he left Kerik's room with haste.

A gnawing feeling of disgust and guilt ate away at his insides. Sure he hadn't completely gone through with it. But he still went to another man with full intent to do so, and felt someone else's lips upon his own.

"How am I going to tell him?" Panaro shook his head, disgusted with himself.

--

"I'm sure you'll like this," Crawford smiled opening the door for Sarah, "I've been working on it for awhile you see."

Nodding, she stepped in and took the seat he offered her. Her pale blue eyes caught sight of something shinning in her line of sight.

Picking it up, Sarah noticed it to be an earring. She gestured to the Merik, 

"What's this?"

"Oh, must be Dale's. Likely came off before." Taking the questionable item and placing it on an adjacent table.

"So she was here?" Sarah frowned.

Crawford blinked, confused. "Sorry?"

"Why was she here? I thought you two decided to go separate ways." She said, the chestnut haired soprano feeling hurt and confused. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"It isn't like that darling! I just asked her over to sing for me-"

"Sing for you? Why didn't you ask me to?"

The Merik attempted to explain but Sarah shook her head. "Sarah, please it isn't like that. Dale and I've had history, I needed someone I knew could sing this in order to finish it."

"That's all it was, singing? If that's all it was why didn't you say anything about it? Instead I hear about it over the phone?"

"Please," Crawford pleaded, taking her small hands in his. "Nothing is going on between Dale and I. Trust me?"

The brunette shook her head, pulling her hands away.

"I don't know what to trust right now. Please I just need some time right now." 

She stood to leave, and felt the Merik take hold of her hand as she tried to turn away.

"Don't go please," He begged, "You know I love you."

But she refused to yield. Pulling away from his grasp, Sarah left.

Crawford stared at the doorway, his hands shaking, falling to his knees.

He didn't glance up hearing a soft tap at the door. Jones poked his head in, "Sarah looked pretty upset, is everything alright?"

The older Merik held his head in his hands, having since discarded his mask across the room, his shoulders trembling.

"Why? I didn’t mean for this to happen. I just..." The older Merik wept, mismatch eyes red rimmed. “Oh, Sarah...”

~The little nudge about Karimloo and Mr. Y talking to each other is a reference to the fact that both Ben Lewis and Ramin Karimloo played Mr. Y in LND, Ramin originating the role in 2010.

~After seeing Derrick Davis’ in the tour show (which was amazing!) his version has several changes and alterations to the original PotO show including some things about the Phantom’s appearance like his wig and lack of fedora.