"Shall we go to dinner then?" Monsieur Destler offered to the man and his daughter. Gustave looked down at Christine who could only shrug.

"Christine?" He inquired and she nodded.

"I am hungry…" She said softly as Monsieur Destler clapped his hands together.

"Perfect, Buquet?" He asked, turning to his assistant who also nodded. "We'll take my carriage." He said and nodded toward the door, ushering the rest of them out before him. He noticed the child was staring at him, but when he looked her way she quickly averted his gaze. Teenager. Still, he smiled politely at her and hoisted her small body into the carriage.

The restaurant was one of the finest in Paris and most expensive. Not that it mattered to Gustave. His years as a musician had served him well and he would be set for the rest of his life. Christine was seated beside her father and across from the man she had never expected to see, but he existed though differently than she had dreamed him. She bit her lip looking at him and she had to say, she slightly wished he was the same as in her dream. This man in front of her had the same regal air and heavenly speaking voice, but he was cold and dispassionate. His eyes did not have the same fire they had in her dream, and his face…She found herself missing the uneven flesh that had tarnished his beautiful appearance.

Christine sat silently, toying with the food on her plate as her father and Monsieur Destler discussed music and business, mostly business which bored her to tears.

"Carlotta Guidicelli leaving was a blessing," She heard Monsieur Destler say, "She was past her prime having ruined her voice. She was only thirty years old but her temper made her so unpleasant that even the audience was beginning to react. Thankfully that Italian fellow came along, what was his name Buquet?" Buquet perked up at being invited into the conversation.

"Piangi sir. Ubaldo Piangi I believe his name was."

"Ah yes," Gustave replied. "I've seen him perform many a time. He was quite good in his day. That's Carlotta's mysterious husband who swept her off her feet?" He asked, nearly laughing. Ubaldo Piangi was less than a knight in shining armor though he did have a simple charm to him once you got past his arrogance.

"Is he still fat?" Christine asked without realizing what she'd said. Her hand clapped over her mouth. An amused smile played on the manager's lips.

"Christine Daaé…you must think before you speak." Gustave said, patting her hair. She returned her attention to her peas.

"How did you know he's fat?" Monsieur Destler asked and her head shot up in horror.

"I…um…M-Meg Giry told me." She lied. Monsieur Destler seemed to accept this answer.

"Ah…the little Giry. I'm quite fond of the Giry family. Antoinette and I knew each other as children you know. Her family used to stay near my mother and I during the summers in Boscherville." He said, smiling fondly at the memories, though it was a tight smile. Almost bittersweet.

"Oh yes! Annie's grandparent's lived there!" Gustave replied. "You must have met my wife then…she often traveled with the Dubois family. Josephine Rousseau." The manager nodded.

"Yes, I do. She looked very much like this young lady here." He said nodding at Christine, who put her head down to hide her blush. Chuckling the manager went on, "Of course, the girls were a few years older than I so they really didn't let me pester them much. Besides, my mother made me practice the piano for five hours every day and study for six." The smile left his face and suddenly it was there. That fire that Christine had remembered from her dream. It only flickered a moment however before returning to the calm collected man he'd been just a moment before.

"So, Mademoiselle Daaé will be staying at the Opera Populaire?" He asked and Gustave nodded.

"We live quite a bit away, just outside Orléans. Actually I am considering renting a flat in Paris for a bit. I don't like Christine being so far away." He said, patting the girl's hand.

"I understand Monsieur." The man said, taking a drink of his wine. Christine noticed he didn't eat much which explained why he was so thin, but he was not ghastly thin, only fit. His shoulders were broad and it was evident he was well muscled. "Has young Christine finished school?" Monsieur Destler asked and Gustave nodded.

"She was taught at home by myself. No finishing school, but she has the manners of a queen and the voice of an angel." He said fondly. Christine sighed.

"Daddy please…stop." She begged. Christine loved her father and she knew there was nothing he loved more than bragging about her, but she hated to be put on display like that in front of people she hardly knew. Gustave chuckled.

"I'm embarrassing her." He laughed as she put her face in her hands.

"She's a lovely child Monsieur Daaé." Monsieur Destler replied and Christine looked up at him. Child. She thought bitterly. True, she was a bit young to think of marriage but there were girls younger than she who had already been mothers and wives.

"Well," Monsieur Destler said after a moment. "It is getting late and you, young lady, have rehearsal at nine in the morning. I suggest you get back to the opera and get some rest because we have no time for sluggishness. You are the prima donna now and we need you refreshed." He said. She almost wanted to salute him but opted to nod quietly instead. The ride back was once again the three men talking while she sat quietly near the window. Sighing, she allowed the manager to help her down from the carriage and kissed her father goodbye before walking into the opera full of fear and anxious to see what this would all bring. She stopped in the lobby, admiring the beautiful artwork on the walls and the gold sculptures that adorned the room.

"Amazing isn't it?" A voice behind her said. She turned to see Monsieur Destler standing there and nearly fainted.

"Um…yes…it's nice." She said and he nodded. Why was he standing there beside her now, admiring the beauty of the opera with her?

"Well, would you like to see your room?" He asked after a moment of just standing there. Dumbly she nodded and followed him through the darkened corridors until they came to a room she was sure she'd been before. It was like déjà vu. He unlocked the door and as it creaked open, she suddenly remembered this room from her dream. It wasn't exact, but the vanity was in the same place. There was a changing screen and a full length mirror along with a bed. She looked back at the manager when she saw the mirror. He raised an eyebrow impatiently.

"Is it not up to your standards Mademoiselle Daaé?" He asked and she shook her head.

"No…it's perfect. I've just never seen a mirror like that before." She replied and heard him chuckle.

"Yes…it was built into the wall. This room has only ever been used by the prima donnas and you are the fourth prima donna to reign here." He replied and she could only stare at him like a lost child.

"Oh." She said as he gestured for her to go in.

"Do get some rest Mademoiselle Daaé, you have a long day ahead of you to prepare for your first role as Juliette in Roméo et Juliette." She nodded as he patted her shoulder kindly before saying goodnight and striding out into the darkness.

Standing in the doorway for a moment, she quickly shut and locked the door behind her before getting undressed and into her nightclothes. Her father had told her to pack some things just in case and would return tomorrow with the rest of her possessions. Sitting on the vanity was a libretto which had obviously been left for her. Pulling on a dressing gown, she moved to the vanity and sat, moving her candle so she could read some of it.

"Ah! cruel époux! de ce poison funeste Tu ne m'as pas laissé ma part." She sang softly, remembering the opera which she'd seen in London. 'Ah! Cruel husband ! This disastrous poison, you did not leave me my share…' It was so tragic, this story and yet people couldn't get enough. It was almost as if they liked to see people suffer! She said her prayers before crawling into the bed and blowing out her candle. Still, she could not sleep. Her dream from the previous night kept eating at her.

"I wonder if there is an underground lake…" She said aloud and curiosity got the better of her as she drew her dressing gown on again and walked toward the mirror. The room was shrouded in shadows. For twenty minutes she pressed and pulled and poked at the glorious mirror, but it did not open and she was convinced that it was in fact just a mirror and nothing more.

"Ah well…it was a fun adventure…" She said, giving up and returning to the warmth of the surprisingly comfortable bed.

She woke to the sound of humming and opened her eyes to see a girl around her own age moving about the dressing room.

"Can I help you?" She asked, wondering how she'd gotten in.

"It's seven thirty Miss Daaé. Time for your bath." She said and Christine realized she was her maid. "Mustn't be late on your first day the girl said, ushering her into a ready made bath. Christine felt uncomfortable undressing in front of someone else, but the girl turned her back and allowed her to get into the tub. She helped her wash the long thick hair she'd always despised and left her to finish bathing before coming back in to help her dress. Christine had never had someone lace her corset for her before and the girl was an expert at it, although Christine had no doubt a few of her ribs were bruised.

Within forty-five minutes Christine was dressed and ready with fifteen minutes to spare. She let the girl lead her out to the auditorium where Aunt Annie and Meg were waiting for her. Aunt Annie held out a piece of fruit to her.

"Eat Christine. You can't go on an empty stomach." She said and Christine gladly accepted the apple, finishing it just before M. Reyer entered the room. Christine clutched her libretto. This is it…

"Hello all…our manager will be in shortly, he is having a meeting with our patron. In the meantime, let us all meet our newest addition, Mademoiselle Christine Daaé our prima donna to be." He said, winking at her. She held up her hand shyly, feeling the jealous gaze of many of the chorus girls.

"Christine…this young man here is Alexis D'Aubigne. He is our leading tenor." She nodded at the handsome man who was smiling at her. He couldn't have been much older than she, maybe twenty eight if she had to guess. He had dark brown hair and very pale skin, she thought he looked a bit Russian. He was tall and very fit. He had an arrogance to him that most leading performers carried and a sense of self assurance poured off of him. He was without a doubt one of the most handsome men she had ever laid eyes on for he had an exotic type of beauty. His eyes, were very feminine while his nose and the shape of his face were completely masculine and his lips, though thin were bright pink, almost red.

"Alright! The first scene we shall rehearse will be the balcony scene. The ballet can practice in the rehearsal hall and the chorus may take a seat for now." M. Reyer said as Christine hesitantly met Alexis in the center of the stage.

"Don't worry, it's nothing." He said, draping an arm around her shoulders. She laughed nervously, but shrugged away uncomfortably, folding her arms across her chest.

"If you would both please open your librettos to Act two." M. Reyer instructed. "From the first that Juliette appears on the balcony." He began to conduct the pianist, who was playing the orchestrations for the time being.

Christine began hesitantly, keeping her face in the libretto.

"Hélas! moi, le haïr! haine aveugle et barbare!
O Roméo! pourquoi ce nom est-il le tien?
Abjure-le, ce nom fatal qui nous sépare,
Ou j'abjure le mien."

Alexis looked amused as he began to sing,

"Est-il vrai? l'as-tu dit? ah! dispèle le doute
D'un cœur trop heureux."

The rehearsal continued on and by the time they had finished singing through the first two acts, she was exhausted and thankfully Monsieur Destler interrupted.

"Well, I can see we have much work to be done. Alexis, you were flat in five places and that was only the first act. Fix it. Mademoiselle Daaé…" He began but she cut him off.

"It's Christine." She said quickly and he stopped as a few of the chorus girls gasped.

"What did you say to me?" He asked in a low voice and she held her hand up.

"I said, my name is Christine." She challenged and he looked straight into her eyes as he lowered his face to her height.

"Christine…" He whispered sending a chill down her spine, before he stood back up. "You have perfect pitch, the only problem is you have no soul. Your notes were dead. Perhaps Monsieur Reyer can work with you on bringing the emotion of the character out."

The conductor sighed.

"Erik! That is impossible, I've hardly the time to pull the orchestra together, much less give singing lessons to a girl who does not need them." Everyone stood silently, waiting for the consequences. Christine feared she would be fired. She watched intently as the handsome man thought a moment, touching his lightly stubbled chin before turning back to face everyone.

"Fine. I will work with her individually." He finally said.

"What?" Came the reply from Christine, Meg, M. Reyer and Alexis. Monsieur Destler nodded.

"Yes. That should do fine. Daaé!" He barked as her head snapped up. "Be in my office at four-thirty this afternoon. No later. Understood?" He asked and she nodded.

"Perfect." He said, turning to the rest of the cast. "As for all of you, that was disgraceful! If you expect to open this show in five weeks, I suggest a bit more effort. No excuses. Rehearsal is dismissed for the day." He said waving them off as he always did when he was finished with someone or something. Christine could feel her anger bubbling over as her small hands clenching into fists.

"Easy girl, easy…" Alexis's deep voice came from beside her as he patted her shoulder. "Don't let him get to you. He's just an unpleasant bastard with nothing better to do than nitpick us." Christine turned to him.

"No he's not. He just wants everyone to think that." She said and walked away from him to go lie down for an hour or so before getting ready for her practice with the manager.

"Christine! What was all that about?" Meg cried, rushing toward her. Christine shrugged.

"I don't know…he's so…ugh!" She cried in defeat, throwing her hands up. "It's like one minute he's this perfect gentlemen and the next minute he's like…"

"A troll?" Meg offered and Christine couldn't help but giggle.

"I was going to say a beast, but troll is good too…" They laughed as Meg pulled her toward her room.

"Let's pick something out for you to wear to your lesson!" Meg cried throwing the door open. Christine laughed.

"Why should I care what I look like?" She asked and Meg stopped with her hands on her hips.

"Have you seen the man you're about to spend the afternoon with. Brute or not, he is probably the most handsome man I have ever seen!"

Christine shook her head with a smile. It was why she loved Meg. Her energy kept her sane. They decided on a lilac colored dress with little bows on the sleeves and lace trim on the neck. Meg pulled part of Christine's hair back into a matching ribbon and stood back to admire her work.

"You're so lucky Christine! You don't even need a speck of rouge, your cheeks are naturally pink." They both giggled, but Christine frowned when she noticed the time. Four-twenty five.

"I'd better go…thank you Meg!" She said, pulling her best friend into a hug. Meg shrugged,

"What else have I got to do? Besides try to get the attention of that Alexis…" She said and winked before fluttering from the room.

Clutching her libretto, Christine made her way to the manager's office and knocked on the door.

"Monsieur Destler?" She called meekly and saw him sitting at his desk with his back to her. He waved for her to come in and got up to shut the door behind her.

"Sit." He instructed, pointing to a chair which sat by an old wooden piano in the corner of the room.

"Has anyone ever told you to feel the music? To live the music?" He asked, sitting down and crossing his legs. She shook her head.

"No…I just sing. I don't know what you mean." She said and he sighed patiently.

"This is the story of Roméo and Juliette, two of the most famous star crossed lovers ever written about. Of course, it is fictitious, but there is so much emotion in this story. Happiness, anger, grief, loss. You are Juliette. The fair daughter of Lord Capulet. You have fallen in love with the wrong man…yet you will continue to love him through this story. The audience with laugh with you and cry with you…if you let them. You have to be your character…you are Juliette." He stopped to study her expression as she absorbed everything.

"Alright…I'll try." She said softly with her hands folded in her lap. He crooked his finger for her to come stand by the piano which she did and pointing to a line, he said with a glint in his eyes,

"Let's try from here shall we?" She looked at him in disbelief but nodded as he began to play.

"Ah! cruel époux! de ce poison funeste Tu ne m'as pas laissé ma part." Ah! Cruel husband ! This disastrous poison, you did not leave me my share…