Boring, boring, and boring. Christine was constantly repeating this in her head as she sat down to dinner with Raoul and his guests. She knew as a proper lady this would probably be the most entertaining part of her life; sharing gossip, eating and cooking food, and dressing fancy for guests. But once you get used to a life of constant work, practice and hectic schedules, a nice quiet life will always be boring.

It had only been a few weeks since Raoul convinced her that continuing a career as a thespian would be meaningless, with him being all proper his fiancée can't be some harlot that struts about a stage in skimpy costumes. Now can she?

But still… the thrill of performance, the joy of an encore, hearing voices cheer you, and that spine tingling feeling you get whenever you know he's watching. Christine snapped her eyes open with a gasp. Where did that thought come from? He had terrified her, tried to kill Raoul, went mad and still… still…

"Christine? Are you alright my love? You seem distracted." Raoul looked at her as he reached for her. Christine looked at him and those kind, gentle eyes as she grasped his hand. Raul had always been her grip on the real world. Every time he occupied her thoughts, Raoul brought her back to reality.

Christine looked around at the table; all the guests quietly eating and sharing bits of "he said she said" across the table. Only Raoul had taken notice in her. Not that Christine truly minded she never went for fame and glory so that people would notice her; she did it because he commanded that she do so. Raoul though, came in like a gust of fresh air. He let her do anything and everything she ever wanted, well almost anything. Acting was still out, but after what he went through? She could never blame him. She still remembered the rope around his neck, the desperate pleading, the music…

Christine gripped his hand tighter before standing up and gathering everyone's attention. "Would anyone fancy a bit of a game?" anything to get her mind elsewhere and out of the dark thoughts and questions that plagued it.

"How about a game of yes and no?" Raoul came to her side again. She heard a murmur of agreement pass through the few guests they invited. Five of them, two couples and a single bachelor.

One stood and asked "shall we retire to the living room then?" and Raoul led the way. When everyone was situated the bachelor started.

"I'm thinking of a person…"

"female?"

"no"

"single?"

"not at all"

"married?"

"not yet"

"handsome?"

"I wouldn't know"

"rich?"

"well off enough"

"young?"

"our age"

"in this room?"

"but of course!"

"so it's me is it?" Raoul said as they all burst out laughing.

"no one else! Who's next?" the bachelor said as he settled on the coach.

"I'm thinking of a legend…" started the younger of the wives

"A legend?"

"that's what I said"

"scary?"

"terrifying"

"famous?"

"here in France? Quite so"

"speaking from personal experience?"

"none of my own?"

"in the forest?"

"no"

"in a castle?"

"closer"

"some haunted manor?"

"even closer"

"I know what it is!"

"do you?"

"not in a manor? … it could be an opera…oh! Why that's absolutely horrid! Why would you bring that up?" asked the other wife. "Christine still has nightmares about that! Oh she's sorry Christine; she gets a bit carried away sometimes…"

But Christine wasn't listening. She was trapped in her memories. Memories of shadows lurking in the night, a haunting presence that demanded her affection. A controlling, powerful voice that mesmerized her and pulled her from reality. The chill that crawled up her back when she knew he was watching. Dark memories flooded through her as the frail veil she kept them hidden under was breeched.

Raoul rushed to his fiancée as shadows seemed to cloud her eyes. It seemed she would never escape his influence, even after his death. Christine seemed to slowly come back to her senses as Raoul talked to her, her eyes clearing and her mind coming back. It seemed Raoul was the only thing that could stitch that frail veil back together. Christine smiled and stood, looking around she said "I think I shall retire now, I apologize, so please, continue without me" and left the room, her fiancée close behind.

Meanwhile the shadows hid a secretive smile that melted away into the night.

When she got upstairs, Christine locked herself in her room. Raoul begged her to let him in, but her mind needed a break and he would want to talk about what happened.

at first she tried singing to calm herself, but the songs she sang took on sinister melodies, and she'd realize they were all his. She laid on her bed, but the white silk and lace of her curtains reminded her of the dress he made for her. She daren't light a candle for fear it would spark some ghostly ritual and summon him before her. Everything reminded her of him, every thought led to him, every action, movement, and song held his presence. She could still feel his eyes on her, as if he was watching her every move. How could she have thought she escaped?

She thought he had been left behind, buried in the opera house, but he was still here, inside her mind. Was this his revenge? Was she to follow him into madness? Follow him past all logical thought, to a realm created completely from music and emotion? From which she has never stopped hiding?

Christine's heart tore at the thought of spending her life hiding. Why am I hiding from someone whom is dead? Can't I just… just…

Raoul had tried to comfort Christine, but she pushed him away and there was nothing he could do. He knew it would take time for those kinds of wounds to heal, and he hoped his influence was a positive one. He could tell she was scared, but she wasn't alone. She never would be.

The viscount sighed as he gave up and went back to the living room with the intentions of calming the guests, and getting a shot of something strong into his system. He would send a maid to check on her later, hopefully she'll have calmed down by then.

Christine had a distant look in her eyes as she opened the large window that led to the small balcony. The wind tossed her hair as she stepped into the cold night air. Night was his domain. Thoughts continued to swim through her mind. Jumbled confused, too many to properly concentrate on any of them. The balcony was small, hardly bigger than a simple ledge, but she didn't need room right now. She made her way to the rail and took a step foreword. But before she could even shift her weight, strong, warm arms enveloped her. Pulling her back and not letting go. She felt his breath tickle her ear and his voice, smooth, seductive, and threatening:

"Did you honestly believe you could escape me that easily? The chains that bind us will never be broken by something as simple as death."

His arms were warm and controlling. He wouldn't let go… at first she tried to fight, from instinct if nothing else. But every struggle brought her deeper into his embrace until she was almost melting into his warmth…

She had been so devastated when he 'died'. She blamed herself and thought it was his ghost, out for revenge that plagued her dreams. But, was it really only his memories that did this to her? Were they so powerful?

He began to pull her back inside, the candles that had remained unlit until his arrival, sparked with his presence and caused the once familiar room to dance with shadows and eerie light.

She quit struggling completely as her mind went blank. The phantom was softly whispering a song in her ear. The lyrics spoke of her struggles and how useless they were. He sang of her confusion melting in his presence and how he controlled her so completely that her thoughts were not her own.

She knew it was true as the song washed through her mind, her weak grip on reality was slipping away, her mind so gone she would follow him anywhere and everywhere. Just like that night…

The phantom slowly released his hold on her as he turned her around to face him. There was a blank mesmerized look on her face as his singing grew confident and triumphant.

She was still his, she would always be his.

Christine awoke to a bright morning sun with birds singing sweetly in the trees. She wanted to believe it had all been a dream, but the object in front of her spoke a painful truth. She would never escape him. Not in her life and not through death. She would always be his.

She gently picked up the rose with it's delicate black lace and sinister meaning. She held it close to her chest as she let tears of self pity stain her cheeks. She knew she couldn't escape so why did she bother trying? For freedom? No, she was no more free as a viscount's fiancée than she was as his prima donna. If anything she did it simply to show herself she could fight back, she could struggle. Even if it bore no fruit, just the thought that she could fight against him had held hope. But now, after tonight, the way she couldn't even think for herself in his presence reminded her that with him, there was no fighting back. His voice mesmerized her, his touch electrified her, and the way he could fill any room instantly, or disappear from sight in seconds thrilled her. She could never understand why, but she simply lost the ability to think when he was around. As if his music was a gateway to pure emotion, but Christine knew emotion could lead to one's downfall. It had led to his, yet in the end, he never fell did he?

Stop! Christine thought to herself as she wiped her eyes and stood from the bed. You, even now are letting him control your mind. You mustn't give in to him, lest you fall prey to his lust for flesh. She spoke this in her mind over and over, hoping to persuade herself that emotions for him were wrong, especially emotions like that. Weren't they?

Weren't raw emotions the down fall of man? Did they not pave the road to hell? No… that was good intentions. He certainly cared not for those… he murdered two men… though, she never would have danced with him if he did not join the opera… and that bastard he had hanged in the middle of the ballet was the most horrid, perverted…. Why was she defending him? It didn't matter why he killed, he had killed! In the most shocking, frightful, unexpected, and horrid way imaginable! She kept getting distracted in her thoughts, her mind twisted and painful. If he was there, he would be the only thing on her mind and her heart would beat with his, no second thoughts, or suppressed emotion, just him. Then there would be no painful confusion or heartbreaking emotion. But just letting herself fall, to completely succumb to him, wasn't that wrong as well? Wasn't she supposed to fall in love with the gentle and kind prince? Wasn't that what had happened? Just stop!

She cleared her mind as she stood and started her daily vocal warm ups. Remember, don't wear yourself out on the warm ups, and make sure you move around, that way your voice will be more flexible, and your body will allow more movement on stage without straining it…and remember to try a few tongue twisters to help articulation. Breathe with your diaphragm, not your lungs. Just like in dancing, singing allows you to show meaning and emotion beyond your words…

Raoul was going to check on Christine, she hadn't allowed him in last night and he wanted to make sure she was okay. He could hear her doing her vocal warm-ups from the other side of the door, and he frowned. Why does she keep practicing that? Had he not told her she wouldn't return to being an opera singer? She seemed to lose herself when she sang, and then she wasn't his, she was the phantoms. He wasn't going to let her fall victim to that madman just because she wanted an active life with adoring crowds and grand costumes? No, he wasn't going to lose her to him, yet every time she sang it was as if he had already lost.

Then he heard it. She was singing the same song as the night the phantom had kidnapped her. Angel of music speak I listen…

He rushed forwards and threw open her door, fully expecting him to be there, in the mirror, enchanting her. But the only one there was Christine. She looked at him in shock, as if he was a madman. Ha! Him? The madman? He strode into her room, straight to the mirror. He first felt if it was solid, then he looked behind it for any kind of secret passage way. Then he checked the window and balcony for any sign of his presence, next the dresser, her vanity, and her bed. He lifted the pillows and searched behind the head board, he even checked under it for any sign of that accursed man, but alas, there was none. Finally he turned to Christine herself and that was when he saw it. A single red rose tied with black lace. She held it delicately in her hands as if it were a fragile gift from god.

Christine watched in horror as Raoul tore through her room as if possessed. He must have been looking for something…but what? And what caused him to snap like that? Then he seemed to have given up, and Christine allowed herself to breathe again. The Raoul she knew would never hurt her, so why had she been scared? Because, she thought to herself, that wasn't the Raoul you know. She shook her head for what was probably the thousandth time that morning to clear her thoughts and looked at Raoul. But he was looking right at her, with an expression she had never seen before. No, not at her, but at what she was holding, the Rose.

"Wait! Raoul, I can explain!" Christine hid the rose behind her back as she begged with Raoul to listen to her. But he shook his head and stood, walking closer to her and eventually grabbing her by her upper arms and shaking her in anger. Not enough to hurt her, but enough that she could feel tears spring into her eyes and threaten to fall.

"explain?" he hissed "explain to me why I could hear you sing to him, beg him to guide you and take you away? How you could still call him your angel of music?!" his eyes smoldered with an anger she had never seen before, but more than that, his questions had caught her off guard.

"I was singing to him?..." she looked at Raoul, terrified of the influence her once divine angel had over her, and the price it had cost her to fall under his spell. She looked up at Raoul, he was changed. She knew it was the encounter with the phantom that had changed him; it had changed her as well. Maybe… maybe they weren't as meant for each other as she had thought so long ago on the roof, when they had first kissed. It was her first kiss, that is true, yet it was not the most memorable one…

Christine sighed as she came out of her thoughts. She moved to pull the rose out from behind her and Raoul gently released her. Regret written across his face. She knew that feeling well. There had been many things in this life that she regrets, especially that night, when she had left him behind for good, or what she thought had been for good. She could see him sitting there, heartbroken, abandoned, and she had shattered him further when she gave him back his ring. She looked at her left hand now. She was still holding the rose, but she was concentrated on the engagement ring on her finger. It was fine, fancy and elaborate. Everything a girl could ask for, it was even gold, with a diamond so large it could almost match Carlotta's ego. But she never really liked it. She preferred silver; it was softer, gentler and would complement the diamond rather than steal all the attention…

Christine was brought back to reality when Raoul gently lifted the rose from her hand. Examined it closer. "Is this from him?" he asked. She tried to explain it away but he cut her off. "Don't lie. I've seen him give these to you before. You held one on the roof that night. Remember?" Christine nodded her head solemnly as he continued, "Why would you have a fresh one now? Did he visit you last night? The night before? Was that why you were so distracted during dinner?" he continued on, not quite yelling, but still not gentle like the Raoul she knew as a child. Perhaps they had both been changed irrevocably. Because before, she would have blamed herself and thought herself the one whom had wronged, but she knew now that she did nothing wrong, and it was the phantom that had snuck into her room, and Raoul the one at fault for blaming her.

She felt her heart numb slightly knowing that they could never be how they once were. The phantom had made sure of that. Was that his plan? To tear them apart so that she would have no choice but to choose him? Even if it was… it was they whom were allowing him to succeed.

"He didn't visit me Raoul; I simply awoke to find it there this morning. I think he knew I was thinking about him, and left it here so that my mind would not be able to escape thoughts of him… else it be a warning for something…" she trailed off, making it sound as if she was in deep thought. She knew her acting skills had paid off when she was met with yet another apologetic expression.

Raoul turned his head away as he heard her answer. He knew she was probably speaking the truth; the phantom was mysterious as they came and none could understand him. Not even Christine. He exhaled and looked again at the hateful rose. Why was something so beautiful a symbol of such torment for him? Noticing the rose had been clipped of it's thorns he thought to himself, maybe this rose's thorns are the torment it brings? He then crushed it in his hand and left Christine to her own thoughts as he gently closed the door behind him.

Christine saw him crush the rose so that the petals fell to the floor and the scent filled the room. She felt her heart mourn for the poor flower. It had been so beautiful, but was destroyed by another mans envy. Yet the beauty escaped in the familiar scent as it filled her room. She sat down again on her bed. This time only thoughts of the rose occupied her mind as she started to hum soft melodies, and memories of flowers, and applause filled her mind. She could remember the stage and the costumes. The applause and the way her dressing room had been filled with so many flowers, before he came to steal her away…

Erik watched in silence. He had returned to check on her, make sure she wasn't still suicidal. He couldn't let her escape that easily, now could he? He was never very far anyways, never far enough that he couldn't hear her. That way, should she be in trouble, he would be by her side in seconds. Just like last night. Yet, when he returned to the familiar shadows of her room he saw something quite unexpected.

The viscount, Raoul, had grabbed Christine, his Christine, roughly by the arms. Shaking her and causing tears to form in the corner of her eyes. It took every ounce of self control he had to not reveal himself and finish what he started in his lair. But he knew if that damned man could confirm his presence it would only be harder to see Christine and his plans would be further impeded. Still, he smoldered with repressed rage in the shadows, until he heard Christine's gentle whisper… she was lying about him, instead of spilling her troubles to her lover and letting him hide her away from the phantom, she was lying. Knowing that she still kept such secrets from her beloved fiancée warmed his heart and an idea began to play around in his mind. Perhaps, he thought, I am not needed in tearing them apart; they seem quite capable of doing it themselves.

He formed a plan and smiled as he saw Raoul storm off and Christine gently glide to her bed. He heard her quietly hum the song he had taught her so long ago, to sing should she ever need him, and knew that his plan would work. He disappeared into the shadows and left Christine completely alone for the first time since she had come to his opera house. Sure there were moments when he wasn't there, but she was never truly alone. What was that saying? If you love someone let them go? And Erik intended to do just that.

Christine felt a sudden chill, the room seemed to suddenly lose all warmth, it felt cold and empty. Like when a winter wind sneaks in and blows out a warm hearth. She felt like ice had encased her lungs and it was painful to breathe. She could feel the music leave her… and the weight of the silence as it descended. She felt as if she suddenly carried the sky alone on her shoulders. It was a horrid feeling, she still remembered the time her father died and that she felt this same way. Empty and alone. Was it because of the fight with Raoul?

No, Raoul had gotten angry with her, but he hadn't left. She was missing someone else. Someone in the background. Someone watching over her from the shadows…

Christine felt her breath hitch in her throat as she realized what she was thinking. Her angel of music had left her. Her one guardian, the one she had cursed and sent away countless times, yet he stayed there, in the background and loved her even still; the phantom of the opera. It was the only explanation, so why was she sad? Should she not be dancing with joy? Singing her triumph? Instead she felt lonely, why did he leave? Where did he go? What where his plans? Why was she worried for him? How could she be so sure that he left? But she knew that he had. That was the only certainty. Instead of laughing and cheering her victory, calling Raoul back to gloat with him, she felt her music die and her light dim. WHY?!

Christine had been pacing her room non-stop. She hadn't eaten or slept since the morning she awoke to see that beautiful rose lying on the pillow before her. It had been three days since. Her thoughts were repetitive and ran in circles. In her three days of doing nothing but think she had come no closer to answering those questions. The only thing that had changed was that her certainty of his absence had grown. She couldn't understand why he had left. Him! The one that had fought for her against impossible odds and her own wishes. How could he give up on her like that? She could feel the strain on her heart; it would break wide open if this continued. But she couldn't stop thinking about it. She heard Raoul come to the door many times, and the servants tried to comfort her thinking it was the fight that had her so distressed. No one knew the real reason she seemed to go mad. She was pulling out her hair and pacing the floor non-stop.

The maids were able to get some food and drink into her system over the next couple days as they brought it to her on the fifth floor. It wasn't that she didn't have the energy or will to eat; she was simply too preoccupied in her thoughts to consider nourishing herself. Yet she still couldn't find any answers. And eventually a week passed without her once leaving her room.

Her thoughts continued to rampage her mind. Always "why?" or "how" and they continued to cycle through, non-stop. She knew her heart was at it's limits as she collapsed into the chair on her vanity. Her pacing stopped for the first time since she felt his presence disappear. She looked at her reflection in the mirror, she was a mess. Her hair was frizzled and sticking up from where she had been clutching it. Her nightgown was filthy and tarnished from her wearing it almost ten days in a row. And her face looked exhausted, funny, she didn't feel exhausted.

She closed her eyes as she dropped her head into her hands and for the first time, she began to cry. Truly cry, she didn't know why. She was torn and confused and heartbroken. How could one man leaving do this to her? Is this what he felt when she left him that night? When she handed back the ring and walked away? The tears ran hot down her cheeks as her thoughts began to clear. For once making way for raw emotion.

Raoul felt horrible for what he did and what happened between them. He had gone back and tried to apologize many times over the past week or so. But she refused to speak with him. He couldn't blame her. She wasn't the one at fault, yet he had yelled at her, spoke harshly and gripped her violently. She did nothing wrong, it was that monster. He had changed her, had changed him even. They would never be the same because that thing had corrupted them and polluted their love with his jealousy. That was why. He was behind it. But he would never win. Evil never does.

Raoul turned around yet again to try and apologize to her. He walked up the main stairs to her room. Why did she insist on sleeping on the fifth floor when he slept on the second? Didn't she know how much distance she put between them that way?

He had just made it to her door when he heard mournful sobbing from the other side. It couldn't just be the fight. Was she truly that delicate? He gently opened her door, thankful that it was left unlocked by the previous maid, and made his way into her room. Unfortunately the rusty hinges gave him away. She looked up from her vanity, tears staining her cheeks her eyes puffy and red. Her lip quivered and she didn't seem capable of forming words. She ran to him, knocking over the chair she had previously occupied and plowing into him. Gripping his shirt she sobbed loudly into his chest. Raoul couldn't figure out why she was so heartbroken. Her sobs pained him as she hiccupped and tried to calm herself down enough to speak.

"He's gone! He left! He hasn't come back yet…" she wailed, as if grief-stricken.

Raoul was further thrown into confusion. If she meant whom he thought she did, why was she sad? Should it not be cause to celebrate instead? Was this what had kept her locked in her room for so long? She simply missed his presence? These were no tears of joy. That he could tell. Was she lonely now that the devil she called guardian had abandoned her? If so, he'd be here with her. Even though that phantom had finally let her go, she was crying. Raoul would have to convince her that they were blessed when the bastard finally left. He hid a smile as he pulled Christine closer to him and held her tighter.

Christine felt herself scream into Raoul's chest and her tears soak his shirt. She wanted him to hug her back, to possess her, give her a reason to live. She wanted warmth, strength and emotion from him, but as he tightened his grip she felt the emptiness inside her continue to grow.

She pushed him away. Her tears dry and her heart numb, she was as pale as a ghost and swayed gently on her feet. His presence had only been absent since the fight… what was that about again? Oh, yeah… him. It was always about him. She glided to the window, leaving her fiancée standing there behind her. She slowly opened the window as an icy wind blew through her thin nightgown. She stepped onto the tiny balcony, shivering in the cold, and made her way to the railing. Laying her bare hands on it, she felt the frigid metal bite into her skin. The moon was out casting shadows of the night. She looked at each one, as they blended into the darkness, hoping to see him there, hiding. Hoping to feel his presence in the night. But the pit in her heart screamed that he was nowhere to be found.

So he was gone…truly gone. But for how long and why? These questions still plagued her mind. Refusing to loosen their hold on her. She hadn't wanted him to be gone. She just…just what? She pushed him away, broke his heart, ran off with another man, and still expected him to fight for her? It was her fault he left. She wanted him gone, so he disapeared, and took part of her with him.

She leaned over the rail, thoughts coming back to her from ten nights ago. Of ending it simply. But could she really die when part of her was missing? And would it really end anything? No… he'd probably follow her still. He was a phantom after all. She might have jumped, just to see if he would catch her, but she could still feel Raoul behind her. Staring at her like she was crazy. And wasn't she? Didn't the absence of the one guiding light in her life do this to her. Ten days… ten days was all it took to destroy her completely.

Her Angel was gone, so how was she going to get him back?

End of chapter one. It's a good ten pages and I thought I'd leave it so you're curious and want to read more, but you can still stop here if you aren't. By the way, I hate Raoul and I'm doing everything I can to keep him in character instead of giving him an ACTUAL PERSONALITY. But I still have to make him the bad guy for the purpose of this fic. So expect more anger moments from him! I'm sorry, prince charming doesn't do it for me. And Christine's personality is a slight bit different because, like I said in the fic. They are changing. People do that. No explicit scenes because I don't see past marriage in this fan fiction. I apologize, but there will be passion and kissing, and more action later on. This chapter was all about Christine realizing that she wants Erik in her life and that it isn't any fun without him. Hell, she might eventually realize that she loves him. *wink* *wink*