Chapter 2

Christine Daae gazed at her reflection without actually seeing it. The costume for tonight's performance was spectacular: revealing and sensual. It was the perfect attire for a nymph who played with men's affections. A touch of rouge on her cheeks and her lips were painted the color of blood, she was a vision of seduction. Madame Giry stood behind her finishing the last few laces of her corset. Her kind face was set in a disapproving frown. She had been in a less than friendly manner ever since Raoul had ordered two armed soldiers to be her constant companions. He swore it was for her own protection but Christine feared it was because he did not trust her to not run off and warn Erik of their plans. The guards were now currently waiting just outside the dressing room door.

Erik.

The name whispered gently inside her mind. She had been trying desperately to not think about him. The more she did the less she wanted to have anything to do with Raoul's plan.

Erik. Her angel. Her friend.

"I don't want to see him in chains." Christine blurted out.

"Then I suggest you call off the dogs, my dear." Madame Giry replied stiffly.

"But I can't."

Madame Giry huffed like an angry bull. "I have been mother and friend to you both. I will not stand here and comfort your guilty conscience."

"But he's dangerous." Christine stated, but her words lacked conviction. It sounded more like a question. Madame Giry's eyes found hers in the mirror.

"Answer me this, child. Why do you love the Vicomte De Chagny?"

Christine sat silently while she thought about her answer.

"He was my childhood sweetheart, my dearest friend. When I am with him I remember all the happiness I felt when I was a child…before my father died. I feel…safe."

"And how do you feel with Erik?" she asked.

Christine did not want to say her feelings out loud, saying the words would make them real. If they were real, then she could not deny them.

"With Erik I don't feel like a child…I feel like a woman." Christine's cheeks turned a deeper shade of pink. "Our music makes me feel as if I can do anything, as if I could leave my own skin and fly up to touch the stars. I feel special and glorious. His voice…it makes me feel things." Christine dropped her gaze down into her lap. "Sss..sexual. Seductive. It frightens me but also excites me. Mercy, I feel so ashamed to speak it aloud."

"You have nothing to be ashamed of by admitting that. It is a very common feeling for a woman to feel with a man she loves." Madame Giry said this more gently as if she knew from distant memory the feeling far too well.

"But Raoul can make me a vicomtess. I'll be the envy of every woman in Paris. I'll have security and wealth." Christine was not sure who she was trying to convince: herself or Madame Giry.

"If that is what will make you happy."

Would it though? Christine thought. That was what every girl dreamed of: a handsome wealthy husband and a fairytale life.

Only…she dreamed of music. She dreamed…of an angel.

Her heart was heavy with doubt and confusion. Madame Giry placed the final touch to her costume: a deep red rose pinned into her curls. His rose.

The sight of the flower pulled the words from her lips. "I love them both."

After a silent moment Madame Giry place one gentle hand on Christine's shoulder.

"I know you do, sweet child, and they both love you. However, you are going to have to choose. Playing with hearts can be a dangerous business even if you do not mean to."

A sudden knocking at the door made Christine jump. Madame Giry strode to the door and opened it to find Monsieurs Firmin and Andre. They both looked positively fidgety. Of the two of them, Firmin looked the most anxious. He was twisting his white opera gloves so hard in his hands that they were on the verge of ripping.

"Ah, my dear Giry," Firmin greeted, "I trust our star is ready for the opera ghost's….ah I mean our new performance. Everything is ready of course."

"Yes, yes, she is ready. However, it would be best if she were given a few moments to herself."

Christine watched as Madame Giry closed the door behind her, leaving her alone with her confusion.

What should I do? Tonight she would have to choose one, and crush the heart of the other.

Giry turned back towards the managers and gave an annoyed puff of air.

"And if you two will excuse me, I wish to prepare myself for tonight as well. All this security nonsense is going to make me late and I am never late."

"Now be reasonable, Madame," Andres pleaded, "We have a madman on the loose."

"The only madmen I see are the two right in front of me if you think that even for a second that He doesn't know what you are planning."

With a crisp swish of her skirts Madame Giry turned away from the horror stricken looks of the managers and walked briskly down the hall. Her armed escort had to break into a run to catch up with her. A few minutes later they had reached the corridor to her private quarters. She immediately noticed that the door was slightly ajar. She always kept her door locked.

The ballet mistress grabbed the door handle and twirled around on one foot to face the guards. They stumbled on their own feet in an attempt to not walk right into her.

"Thank you gentlemen, now if you don't mind…." She swiftly stepped through the doorway and with a loud bang she slammed the door in their faces.

"My, my. Someone has irritated you today, Madeline." Came a voice right behind her.

Madeline Giry turned around to come face to face with Erik who had just lit the gas lamp. She was only a few years older than Erik but she had always felt like a mother towards him. He was a grown man and towered over her but she still felt the incredible need to protect him from the world. She let out a tired breath.

"Erik, this madness can't go on. Guards roaming the halls of the opera house. Stage hands hanging from the rafters…I can't believe you did that!"

"I am not sorry about that!" Erik said roughly. "You knew what a lecherous pig he was. How many of your ballet girls did he fondle before I got my noose around his neck?"

Giry knew it was true that Buquet most likely did deserve his fate but it was never a good idea to encourage Erik's actions.

"Well why did you have to make a show of it? Right in the middle of the opera for heaven's sake! And the masquerade, Erik! You should have known that the managers would eventually do something."

"Those soldiers are here because of that boy." Erik's eyes had grown darker behind his black mask. Black mask? Giry had only just realized what Erik was dressed in. He was wearing an exact copy of Piangi's costume. Madeline was afraid to know what Erik was planning to do. Erik caught her staring and grinned mischievously.

"A man has a right to be in his own opera. It will be quite a performance, Madeline." Erik then turned very serious. "And when it is over, Christine and I are leaving this place. Away from the Opera Populaire and away from that interfering Raoul and everyone else who would keep us apart. I'm afraid that this is perhaps goodbye for us, Madeline."

Giry stepped forward and placed her hand gently on his shoulder. Giving it a soft squeeze she looked pleadingly into Erik's eyes. "Erik..whatever you do tonight, just promise me that you will not harm Christine. No matter what happens."

Giry knew that Erik loved Christine more than life itself but she honestly did not know what he was capable of it he thought it would lose her forever. Erik took her hand in his and kissed it gently.

"I could never harm my Christine. Never. She is my soul. I love her and she loves me."

A knock on her door and a voiced called out, "Madame, the ballet girls are waiting for you."

She turned to face the door. "Tell them I shall be there in a moment."

When she turned back around Erik had vanished. She