Chapter Three: Remember

Christine stood outside of the locker room as she waited for Meg to come out. A month has passed since school started. So far, everything has been fine. She liked the majority of her classes and she got to sleep in.

The brunette hasn't made any new friends though. Meg has been nagging her about that. It wasn't like she didn't try to be social. Christine was just terrible at talking to strangers. She was very shy and tended to stutter a lot around them.

Christine sighed and looked at her watch. Where was she? After several more minutes, the ballerina came out with two other dance majors. Christine cringed.

Meg's new friends.

She honestly didn't know how to deal with them. Meg has always been far more popular than Christine ever was. What if they don't like her and try to convince Meg to ditch the loser? It wouldn't be the first time it happened.

And, in a true Christine fashion, she tried to run away from her problems instead of facing them. The brunette attempted to leave before the others could spot her.

"Hey, Christine! This is Jammes and Sorelli."

Damn it, she was too slow. Christine meekly shook their hands. "Hello. I'm Christine."

Jammes raised an eyebrow. "No need to be afraid, we don't bite." she said.

The other dancer laughed and smiled at Christine.

"Hi Christine. I am so happy to meet you. Meg has told us so much! You are double majoring in Art and English, right?" Sorelli asked.

Christine nodded timidly.

"Y-yes. I have something I want to do in the future."

Meg piped up. "She wants to write and illustrate children books."

"Meg!" Christine admonished. The ballerina grinned back sheepishly.

"Ah, so you can speak up!" Jammes commented. Sorelli jabbed her in the ribs. "Ow!"

"Stop being rude." she whispered and looked back at the shy girl before her. "Really? That sounds nice. Are you working on one right now?"

Christine shuffled uncomfortably. She didn't want to go into any details on her biggest project...

"Not at the moment. I do have several other story ideas that I plan on publishing. I just want to develop my skills some more before I work on them."

Meg frowned.

"What about the one that you have been working on since high school?"

Christine glared at her. "I have no intentions of publishing it."

Jammes glanced at her quizzically. "Why not?"

"It's personal."

Jammes looked like she wanted to ask more, but the brunette simply ignored her.

After all, why should she answer her? The dancer had no right inquiring into her business. That story was a part of Christine. It was the last thing she had of her father. It was very personal. She wasn't even sure if she ever could let anyone else read the entire thing. Only Meg knew anything about it, and she only knew parts of it.

Speaking of the ballerina, Meg decided to use the sudden silence to execute her plan.

"So, now that we all know each other, why don't we all go to The Rooftop together? I know they have awesome music and a nice dance floor." the ballerina pleaded.

Christine was jolted by the sudden proposal.

What? No!

"Bu-but, I don't really lik-"

"Please? It would mean the world to me if all of my friends could go with me." Meg watched her with the saddest expression and Christine felt her heart clench.

"Fine."

A triumphant smile spread across the ballerina's face as she jumped for joy.

Christine couldn't help but smile at the sight.

Damn it, she is too adorable.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Music pumped through the air. Strobe lights flickered from the ceiling. Bodies were twisting and grinding against each other. Meg was having the time of her life as she danced across a very handsome guy. He was even a great dancer to boot.

Unfortunately, her legs protested and she needed to rest. Meg informed her partner that she was going back to her group. The man introduced himself as Ethan and asked if he and his pal Adam could join them. After a moment, Meg agreed. The ballerina scanned around the room and found her friends.

The two dancers were resting. Jammes had her eyes closed as she tried to regain energy.

And Christine...was just sitting there. Meg knew she couldn't be tired. The brunette only went onto the floor once, and that was for twenty minutes. She had spent most of the night hiding in the corner and sipping her soda.

Meg walked over and introduced them to her new company.

"Hey Jammes, Sorelli, and Christine."

Jammes opened her eyes groggily and immediately sat up when she saw the men. Sorelli smiled and greeted them.

"This is Adam" she said as she pointed to the blonde one, "and this is Ethan. They wanted to hang out with us. Is that okay with you ladies?"

"Very," Jammes purred.

"That would be nice." replied Sorelli.

The ballerina received no response from Christine. Meg glanced at the brunette and noticed that she was staring at Adam.

"Christine?" Meg prodded.

The silent woman shook her head as if trying to clear it.

"Oh! S-sure." Christine stammered and sunk in her chair in embarrassment. She kept her eyes focused on her soda.

The blonde haired man chuckled at her reaction. Ethan grinned.

"I think I'll go get us some drinks." Ethan whispered into Meg's ear. She nodded and he left.

An idea formed in the ballerina's head.

"Hey Christine, why don't you dance with Adam? You seem to have plenty of energy." she winked at the brunette. Christine's face became as red as a tomato.

"N-no. I can't. I really don't have that much energy." she protested. Meg raised an eyebrow.

"You barely danced for five minutes. Go have some exercise."

"No! I can't!"

The group flinched as Christine raised her voice. She saw their faces and lowered her voice to a whisper.

"I'm sorry, but I can't dance. I...I need to go to the bathroom." she said as she abruptly made her escape. The group watched her go with confusion apparent on their faces.

Meg took note and sighed.

"Sorry guys, she is really shy." the ballerina smiled apologetically.

"Everyone is different I guess." Adam shrugged and turned to Sorelli. "Would you like to dance with me?" He held out his hand and she accepted. They both went on to the dance floor.

Meg observed them and heard Jammes groan.

"Man, how the hell did you become friends with that chick?"

The blonde ballerina couldn't help but frown.

"Why wouldn't I be friends with her?"

The woman scoffed. "You're kidding me, right? She is annoying to hang out with!"

Meg felt anger bubble up in her chest and restrained herself. Throttling someone in a club would cause a scene. "Christine isn't annoying, she is introverted. Just because she is shy doesn't mean that she is not an amazing person." she explained.

Jammes sighed. "No, her shyness is not the problem here Meg. Look, I know her type very well. You probably see her as some charity project that you "have" to help. But, the truth is you can't. Her problem is that she is very needy. You are her crutch, and she will continue to just use you until there is nothing left for you to give." Jammes faced Meg with determined eyes. "She is going to end up dragging you down, Meg. Christine is not some poor little introverted girl. She isn't just shy, it's more like she dislikes people in general. She is a parasite and you should ditch her as soon as possible."

Meg replied back with a slap. "I think you're the parasite here! What the hell is wrong with you? First off, Christine is my friend. She is no charity project. And second, you have no right to judge her when you're the one with a fucked up mind!"

"Meg, I-" Jammes started.

But Meg did not hear the rest as she walked away with fury clouding her mind.

How dare she say those things about Christine! She wasn't a parasite! Christine is a good friend. Meg couldn't understand why people looked down on her so much. Jammes looked down at her. Everyone in their high school looked down at her! Meg faltered a bit as she continued the train of thought.

Even she herself had looked down at her.

Meg flinched as she thought back to such a time.

3 years ago

Meg laughed as her boyfriend kissed her on the cheek, but she still pushed him away.

"As much as I would like to, I can't go with you guys."

Rick groaned. "Why not? You should just ditch with us."

"No, my mom is a hawk. She keeps track of all of my attendances. The woman would murder me if I missed a single day."

"Man, your mom is crazy," Sara commented.

She sighed. "Tell me about it. Really, it's like she-"

The blonde was not able to finish her sentence when a certain brunette crashed into her. Numerous books fell out of Christine's arms and hit the ballerina's feet.

"Shit! Watch where you're going!"

Christine quickly knelt down and picked up her books. She stammered out apologies while she worked on her task.

"S-s-sorry. I-I di-didn't me-mean t-to." she stuttered.

Meg sighed as she watched the frightened girl. "Stop having a panic attack. I'm not part of the mafia or whatever. Just pay attention next time."

"O-oh, o-okay." the brunette continued to stammer.

"Can you even speak English?" Sara questioned and the brunette's face turned red with embarrassment.

"I-I c-can."

Sara raised an eyebrow. "You sure?"

Meg ignored her friend's taunts and looked down at the books. "Why are you carrying so many picture books anyway?"

The brunette shifted uneasily and Rick started to laugh.

"Wow, you reached a new low, Christine. How the hell did you manage to graduate elementary school?" the football player mocked.

"Sh-shut up! I'm surprised you can even read picture books! You stupid fop!"

Rick snorted. "Fop? Really? What kind of a lame insult is that?"

Meg thought for a moment. "I think it means someone who is very vain."

"Really? That's pathetic." the football player replied. Christine turned to an even brighter red.

"W-well, at least I am not a fake like you!" she shouted and then quickly fled. Rick watched her escape with narrowed eyes.

"That chick is fucking weird." Sara stated as she saw her disappear down the hall. Meg glanced at her friend.

"She wasn't that bad. I think she has a disability or something."

"No, Sara's right, Christine is a mess," Rick said in a strange tone.

Meg raised an eyebrow. "You know her?"

He sighed. "Unfortunately, I do. She's my neighbor and her dad is friends with my parents."

Sara looked up at him. "Wow, that must suck. Do your parents make you spend time with her?"

He paused for a moment as he thought and answered. "Yeah, and it's fucking creepy. She never talks and is always off in her own imaginary world."

Meg frowned. "Is she getting help?"

A nervous expression flitted across Sara's face.

"Wait, is she a psycho? Do you think she'll pull a Carrie on us? Oh god, I'm on the prom committee. I am required to go."

Meg gave her a skeptical look. "Oh, come on. She might have issues, but I don't think she's that crazy." the ballerina replied.

Rick gave the girls a mock solemn expression.

"I wouldn't dismiss her that quickly. I'd be surprise if she didn't go insane. I'm just waiting for the day when she comes in with a bunch of guns and starts killing everyone." he said as he tried to keep the amusement out of his voice.

Meg slapped his arm. "Rick! You shouldn't joke about that!"

He simply chuckled and glanced over to Sara.

"Relax. There's no need to get worried. She's just a harmless weirdo."

He grinned back at Meg and she couldn't help but laugh. The three proceeded to switch onto other subjects as they walked down the halls.

And that was the last time Meg had spared a thought for the strange brunette...That was until her world came crashing down.

Meg clenched her hands as the memories washed over her.

I'm so sorry, Christine.

Back then she didn't know. She had no idea who she really should have been scared of. If it hadn't been for the "freak", she probably wouldn't be here today.

Meg drowned in her thoughts and was startled when someone put a hand on her shoulder. She turned around and saw Ethan standing there.

He watched her with concern.

"Hey, are you alright?"

Meg sighed.

"No."

A dim light hung overhead as the masked man worked on one of his many projects. He was currently on the testing phase for this specific one.

Erik carefully poured the clear liquid chemical into a small bowl. He placed the container into a cage and observed. A rat with a broken leg and numerous cuts all over its body came limping out of the tiny hut. The animal glanced about curiously before setting its eyes on the bowl. It walked over and cautiously sniffed the contents. After a moment, the rat drank the liquid.

The changes occurred slowly. Over the course of several hours the rat began to heal at a quicker rate. Its injuries closed. The rat stopped limping and the scars vanished. After a while, even its fur began to shine. It looked healthier and more robust than it has ever been in its entire life.

And then something went wrong.

Erik cursed as he went to get cleaning supplies for the blood splattered cage. When he came back, a dark haired woman stood next to his experiment. She stared at the torn remains of the rat with amusement.

"This is quite marvelous Erik. It's no wonder Hoffman has taken to calling you Raven. You are very much a symbol of death."

The masked man scoffed. "How incredibly dull, Madame Farrar. Are we really going to go with avian themed code names?"

The dark haired woman grinned.

"Well, it's not like you have ever given Hoffman your actual name. He's gotten sick of referring to you as Opera Ghost. Apparently some of his staff has been giving him some weird looks. If it makes you feel any better, he has taken to calling me Crow."

He watched as she poked the carcass with her nail.

"Really? I wonder why he'd name you as such?" he questioned with sarcasm. "So, what does the imbecile call himself then? Peacock?"

Farrar chuckled. "That's perfect. I don't know what he prefers, but I think I'll take your idea." She frowned as she observed the corpse before her. "How did you kill this one? The marks seems to be from its own claws..."

Erik sighed.

"It wasn't on purpose. I was trying to heal it."

"You have a fun definition of heal."

The masked man looked away as he started to clean the cage.

"The medicine worked well psychically, but it had unfortunate effects on the mind."

"Interesting."

He glanced up from his task and his cold amber eyes met her sadistic green ones.

"Why are you here?"

She looked around his lab nonchalantly.

"Oh, I just wanted to check in and see if Antoinette has been bothering you. It seems that the pigeon has been up to something lately."

"Is that so? And where did you get this information?"

A savage gleam appeared in the woman's eyes. "You're not the only one who likes to keep track of everyone."

"I suppose so." he warily replied.

Farrar leaned on the table where the remains of his experiment lie. Excitement was evident in her posture.

"So, what are you going to do about the pigeon?" she questioned.

Erik casted her a cold look. "Nothing for now."

"Ah, so you're playing the waiting game. You should be careful though, or else an opportunity might pass by."

He gave her a pointed glare.

"Madame Farrar, I rarely play a game from which I do not obtain anything."

A dark chuckle escaped from her lips.

Christine closed her eyes as the cold water ran down her face. She was currently at the club, but her mind was a million miles away.

Images of another life danced before her. One waltzed by and she watched it play out.

A young boy ran down a beach as a girl stood there sobbing.

"Do not cry fair maiden! I am a knight and I will save your red scarf from the sea!"

The image slowly floated away and another memory came into view.

The boy and girl were older, but they were still very much children. The girl hugged the boy tightly.

"Please don't go. You are the only friend I've ever had!"

He also seemed reluctant to let her go, but he had no choice.

"I promise we'll meet again, Little Lotte."

Before she could stop, the memory that she so desperately tried to hide away jumped in front of her.

"Dad! Please, don't leave me alone!"

No one answered her as she stared at the corpse before her.

In her hands was a letter written in elegant script.

"...and always remember that the Angel of Music will be watching over you, my dear."

-Gustave Daaé

Christine could feel herself choking. She couldn't breathe and tears threatened to pour out of her eyes.

Damn it! I can't have a breakdown here.

Normally she'd be fine reminiscing about the past, but her father's death was the one thing she couldn't think about. When she saw the blonde boy that Meg brought along, she couldn't help but notice how much he looked like Raoul. Thoughts of Raoul led her mind to memories of her childhood. She had no problems thinking about her childhood. But then she had to go ruin it and wonder how Raoul would have reacted to her father's death.

No, forget, forget.

Do not remember.

Author's Note: Hello! Thank you for reading, please review if you can. Anyway, just like with Dancing with Fate, I will occasionally go back to fix my chapters.

Flight of Nightingales was originally suppose to be my first fanfic, but I ended up writing DWF first. I've always wondered what would have happen had Meg Giry been given a larger role in the story. What if she was the one who was in charge of saving Christine? As a result, Meg is very important for this story. Raoul will also have a role, but it might not be as important.