If you're reading this, hello! I've tried posting a couple of other phics before, but I have never thought they were good enough. I will try my hand at this one. Please be nice if you review. Thank you.
Chapter 1
The Dressing Room Scene following Hannibal
The dressing room looked far more pristine than usual with bouquets of flowers and chocolates everywhere. The only place that wasn't completely covered with elaborate things was in front of the large wall mirror.
The performance went wonderfully. Christine's final aria, "Think of Me", brought the crowd to a standing ovation. Maybe it pleased the managers so much that they would not ask Carlotta to come back. Maybe she would become the new prima donna! Her angel would be so proud.
Christine stood in front of her mirror and combed her hair while still trying to take in the evening's events and praying her angel would visit her soon.
Suddenly, though, Raoul de Chagney walked into the room. Christine turned towards him when she saw his reflection through the mirror.
"Christine!" he proclaimed good naturedly while rushing over to where she stood.
"Raoul! I- I did not think you would remember me." She hugged her childhood friend.
"How could I forget my Little Lotte?" He smiled when he saw her face brighten at the old nickname. "You sang so well tonight. You always have had a beautiful voice, you know."
"Thank you! It felt so good to be on stage. Just as Daddy promised I would be…" Her eyes took on a glassy look.
"Your father. Christine.. I am so sorry about his death. I know how hard it must be for you. He was all you had."
His sympathetic eyes took on a look of confusion when Christine smiled. "Raoul, everything is ok." She took a deep breath.
Holding his hands, Christine looked deep into his eyes.
"'Father said, 'When I am in heaven, child, I will send the Angel of Music to you'.'" Taking a pause, she studied his features considering if she should continue. "'Well, father is dead, Raoul, and I have been visited by the Angel of Music.' I really have." Christine was so glad to finally entrust one of her deepest secrets to both her best friend, Meg, and her friend from the past, Raoul.
He stared at her for a moment to make sure she was just kidding. When he saw she really wasn't, he grinned. "Little Lotte, you do still believe in those tales, don't you?"
"What do you mean? Of course I do."
He laughed loudly but continued to hold her hands. "Christine, I suppose I should tell you the truth. Someone should, and I care for you far too much to keep it from you. His stories were only stories, Christine."
She stared into his eyes. "But, I am being serious. I would not make this up."
Raoul shook his head. "Christine, how old are you now?"
"Nineteen."
"And, you still believe in the Angel of Music?"
"Yes."
"You say he has come to you?"
"Yes."
"Well.. what does he look like?"
Christine's confidence in her angel lessened somewhat. "I have not seen him, actually."
"Well, there you have it."
"'There' I have what?"
"The Angel of Music does not exist, Christine." He crossed his arms against his chest to emphasize his statement.
His words caused her eyes to widen. For a moment, she could not speak. Soon, though, Christine became angry. "You think I am making this up! You think I am insane! He does exist, Raoul. I hear him! I hear him!"
Raoul sighed and pulled her into a hug. "Please, forget this nonsense. Come with me. Let us go to dinner to bask in your success."
Christine shook her head realizing her childhood friend had definitely changed in the years spent apart. "I am sorry Raoul, but I have other plans."
In that oh-so-stereotypically depressed and startled way, he asked, "Is it another?"
She really had no idea. "Um.. yes. Yes, Raoul, it is another. I am very sorry. Can we still stay friends?"
"Of course, Lotte." He couldn't hide his despair. "It will be like old times." With that, he left the room.
Christine was alone again. Is it 'another'? I am not so sure. I cannot think of my angel in a romantic way! That is sacrilegious! But, how I wish he were a man… A living, breathing, breathtakingly handsome man! She sighed getting lost in her thoughts.
Little did the brunette know, she was not alone. She was never alone. It was a vow the man behind Christine's room mirror had kept since she was a young girl.
He heard and saw everything that transpired between Christine, his young Protégé, and Raoul de Chagney, the aristocratic patron of the Paris Opera House. My opera house, he thought with a smirk.
On bated breath, he waited while they greeted one another. It just so happened that Christine was going to be visited by her 'angel', the man behind the mirror, had this boy not entered.
He waited fearing Christine would give into the boy's words. "There is no Angel of Music, Christine." He gasped when hearing the aristocrat's remark. He was sure Christine would finally see the lie, the lie that had transpired between man and woman, 'angel' and girl. It was all a lie, after all. Every voice lesson, every song, every rose… they were all built on lies. The boy was speaking the truth.
But, it seemed Christine was still a girl, an innocent child blinded from reality. And thank goodness for that, he thought in relief. She refused to go with Raoul. She refused because there was 'another'.
This definitely startled the man behind the mirror. Never did he think Christine would refer to him in anything but angelic terms, much less romantic. Or, at least, he hoped he was 'the other'.
His hopes were confirmed when she did nothing but sit in an arm chair when the boy left. She was waiting for someone. Me..
"Christine, my child." His silky voice seemed to come from every direction.
Christine looked towards the ceiling and around with a dreamy smile. "Angel."
"Yes. You have made me very proud. Your performance was commendable. Both performances were outstanding."
"Both, Angel?"
Of course she would not think of the latter as performing. "You have followed my orders, dear child. You did not give into the distraction, Monsieur de Chagney."
Her face took on an untrusting tint. "He does not believe in you, Angel. H- he is a waste of my time."
It was one of those rare moments when she actually showed her anger. Her 'angel' loved to open Christine's emotions. "Yes, that he is."
Christine's thoughts went to the conversation she and Raoul had. What does he look like? She bit her lip uneasily before asking, "Angel?"
"Yes, Christine?" His voice was hauntingly beautiful.
"Um, I was just wondering,… C-can you take human form? Can I see you?"
"No," came his instant reply. "No. I do not 'take human form'. Therefore, you cannot see me."
"Oh." Christine was secretly very upset. "One more question… and this is my final question, I promise."
"And, what might it be?" he asked patiently.
"Do you have a name?"
He paused and moved the violin case he was holding from his right hand to his left. "I do. It is… Erik."
"Erik. That is a nice name." She smiled, and her eyes fell upon a red rose with a black ribbon tied around its stem. It was lying on her dresser.
It was the first time Erik could remember that a female had spoken his true name. His heart beat more rapidly at the sound of it. Actually, he couldn't recall ever feeling this way before. Ever since Christine mentioned him to the boy as 'another'.
Quickly composing his thoughts, he stated, "You should change clothes, sweet child."
"Alright." She was about to go dutifully behind her changing screen before quickly adding, "Please, do not leave."
"I would never leave you, Christine."
She changed into a white nightgown and returned to her arm chair.
They spoke of the evening for a while before Christine finally yawned. "Angel.. I mean, Erik, I have one more question."
Erik knew she would have one of two requests. The only question was, which one? "Anything, angel."
She smiled at what he called her. "Will you sing something?"
So, she chose singing. Very well, the violin case will just have to stay shut tonight. Erik chose a calming piece before setting his dizzyingly amazing and mysterious tenor voice to work.
Pretty soon, Christine was sound asleep in the arm chair.
Erik sighed from behind the mirror but continued singing.
Gently, he opened the mirror and stepped into her room. As if she were as light as a feather, he lifted Christine from the chair and tucked her into bed.
Before returning to his place behind the mirror, he studied her face for several moments. What is it I feel for this girl?
