After eating something Erik attempted to piece together that this strange man was to him. A friend perhaps? He certainly seemed to know Erik well.

Nadir looked up at his friend, "Erik? Something's troubling you isn't it?"

Erik smiled tightly.

Nadir sighed, "You really don't remember me? Perhaps you hit your head."

"I'm terribly sorry." Erik replied awkwardly. 

Nadir shrugged draining his water glass. "That's alright. Just rest tonight... and promise me you won't crash the managers' Masquerade Party."

"There's a party?"

Erik's eyes sparkled. 

"Erik..." Nadir replied sternly. 

Erik huffed, "Fine, I'll rest tonight."

"Thank you." Nadir rose and adjusted his suit jacket. "Well, I should get going."

"Have a good night...monsieur." Erik replied. 

"Nadir, my name is Nadir." The man responded, shaking his head and making his way down a tunnel.

Erik waited till he no longer heard Nadir's footsteps.

"A party huh? It seems unfair not to invite the resident ghost..." Erik smiled.

---

The halls of the Palais Garnier were filled with happy chattering and excitement.

---

Erik adjusted the plume in his hat and smirked at his reflection. The red of the suit and had contrasted perfectly with the white of the skull like mask. If this outfit didn't frighten Carlotta into leaving he didn't know what would. He left his house and took the stairs to the surface two at a time.

---

Wynne walked into the foyer of the opera, and followed the flow of the crowd towards the grande staircase. 

Her eyes were aglow with delight as she took in the finery of the room. The tall marble pillars and the painted ceilings. Even the smell of the different perfumes mingling together! Everything seemed so grand. Her dark eyes scanned the room and snagged on one, particular, person.

Standing very grandly on the stairs clothed in a dramatic red suit, was a man. 

A very familiar masked man... Her eyes widened and she felt as though the air was sucked out of the room.

The man's head turned as he glanced at the other patrons of the opera. He froze as he made eye contact with a very stunned looking girl. Her eyes flickered with recognition.

---

Erik took a step down the stairs. Wynne seemed frozen in place. He slowly moved closer, his cape fanning out on the stairs behind him. The crowd parted slightly for him, as a crowd of peasants would move for a king.

"Wynne!" An excited voice bought her out of her reverie.

She turned to see Meg Giry rushing over to meet her. As Erik froze, and retreated under Madame Giry's threatening gaze.

"Meg? Meg Giry?" Wynne asked shyly.

"Oh I'm so glad you made it! You look lovely!" Meg pulled her in for a hug. 

"Thank you." Wynne's reply was muffled in Meg's shoulder. 

Meg pulled back with a bright smile, "Come I must introduce you to my mother!"

Without time to protest, Meg dragged Wynne towards the older woman.

Madame Giry smiled fondly at her daughter.

"And you must be the infamous Wynne!" She smiled with a gracious nod. 

"That's me!" Wynne squeaked. 

"Meg tells me you can dance." Mme. Giry spoke softly. 

"I can?" Wynne replied.

Mme. Giry smiled widely in relief, "Excellent! You see we are short one dancer for our upcoming play, your timing is impeccable." 

"Um... I-"

"Do you have any place to stay?" Madame Giry asked.

"I... no I don't." Wynne replied. 

"She can stay with us ballerinas right mum?!" Meg asked bouncing on her heels. 

"But of course." Mme. Giry replied. 

"Can I show her to her rooms now?!"

"No Meg no. The managers are going to make a speech."

Wynne lost sight of Erik as he slunk back into the shadows.

Choleti appeared in the middle of the grande stairs and clinked his champagne glass.

"Ahem...By now rumors have surely circulated that we are leaving. I have thrown this party to announce that this is true. My wife and I are moving, and we shall be turning the opera over to Monsieur Andre, and Monsieur Firmin."

The two familiar men from the 2004 phantom, separated themselves from the crowd. Waving cheerfully.

"And now as it is Christmas and we have much to celebrate we will be having a ball every night till Christmas, that's right 11 balls!"

"Seems a bit extravagant to me." Wynne muttered.

"I agree." Mme. Giry replied.

"So without further ado, the the festivities commence!"

The crowd moved as one towards the ballrooms and Meg dragged Wynne along with her.

What Wynne didn't notice was a red shadow following her from a distance.