Madame Giry decided to schedule evening classes for the next day, in the ironic fashion that was Christine's life. She had no choice but to go, considering she was now a pupil worth teaching in the class, and she watched the agonizingly slow hours drift by in the ballet studio.

This is the hardest Madame Giry has ever been on Christine. In the past, because the mistress did not believe the girl had any real talent, she simply let her go with scoldings and a few whacks of her cane. But now, since Christine has shown that she might possess some actual talent, the ballet mistress has been relentless. By the time she was let go, Christine was practically in tears, and exhausted. But, as she looked at the clock, she realized she was late to her lesson, and her legs burned as she ran up to the top floor in her pointe shoes.

She wrapped herself in the silk robe she had brought with her, taking off her tutu to leave her in her leotard underneath. She was still taking her hair out of the painfully tight bun it was in and wiping her tears when she raced through the door.

"I'm sorry," she replied breathlessly, constantly feeling the need to apologize. "I was unavoidably detained-"

She was cut off by the soft, gentle voice of her teacher, who watched her with a great feeling of pity in his heart. "Child, were you crying?"

She immediately shook her head, but it was no use. Her eyes were quite red. "No, I am fine. My legs hurt, that's all." She kept her head down as she took out her music, but to her dismay, he did not do the same. "I… I have upset you."

"Not at all," he reassured, simply sitting and watching her. "Christine, you may go to your room and change. I will wait for you. You will feel better."

Christine looked up to him to protest, for she felt awful for keeping him waiting, but she agreed in the end. She quietly thanked him, apologized again, and left the room to change.

She spent some time in her room crying. Her feet pulsed with indescribable pain as she freed them from her pointe shoes, so much so that she did not think she could put on her normal shoes. She cried in pain, cried in frustration, and most of all, in anguish. But she eventually changed into a simple dress, braiding her hair quickly over her shoulder before returning to the room on the top floor.

When she entered the room, quiet as a mouse, she was greeted with the most astonishing sound. Erik was singing. In an instant, her fear, her anger, her regret, and her sadness melted away, until there was only room in her mind for him and his voice. She stood in the doorway for a moment, letting her eyes flutter closed as the tendrils of his voice reached into the deepest crevices of her mind. His back was to her, as he was looking out the window, but he knew she was there. He let her listen, let her relax for a minute or two, until he quieted himself. She opened her eyes, and when he turned to look at her, he saw that they were quite glassed over. She would follow that voice to the end of the earth, if he asked.

"Come," his voice sounded as if it were electrically charged, and every fiber of her body was compelled to follow. She joined him by the piano, opening her music.

Under the influence of his voice, her singing was better than ever before. Of course, not perfect, far from perfect, but in the safety of his control, she was finally able to relax. She was not so incredibly scared now, and she took corrections without protest.

She was improving at a fast pace, so much so that Erik was even astonishing himself. At the end of her second lesson, her voice was virtually unrecognizable from what he started with. But he saw that she grew weary, so he stopped, allowing her to go and rest.

With the constant ballet training and Erik's exhausting lessons on top, Christine was able to truly tell how little she was taking care of herself. Weeks passed by in a haze of exhaustion, but she could not stop. She barely remembered herself anymore. Everyone was pulling her in every direction and she could not keep up. She woke up in pain, went to sleep in pain, and worst of all, her deteriorating condition was starting to affect her singing.

"Christine!" Erik shouted in frustration, making the poor girl jump with fright at his rage. "You are tense as steel! Drop your shoulders before I hold them down myself!"

His eyes immediately softened when he caught the look on her face. She looked like a deer who had just been shot. He took a deep breath, calming himself.

"Child, you were immeasurably better last week, and more alert. You look awful. What is the matter with you?"

She tried to respond, tried to assure him that she would be better, but all that came from her mouth was soft stammering. Her eyes filled with tears, but not because he had shouted at her. Erik could quite obviously tell that she was exhausted beyond belief, and he looked at her with a firm, yet gentle gaze.

"Have you been sleeping?" He asked her, now inexplicably worried for her. When her only response was breaking eye contact with him, a guilty look in her eyes, he set his jaw. "Have you been eating?" Again, silence. His voice grew firm, for he knew it was the only way for her to truly listen and obey. "Christine, I am not going to teach you if you are going to waste your gift by neglecting yourself. If I do not see an improvement in your health by next week, there will be consequences. Do you understand?"

She felt like she was being scolded, much like a child that has been naughty. But, the raw power of his voice was awesome, and she could only manage a small nod as a response, her head bowed.

"Good. Now go rest."

She nodded again timidly, thanking him in a soft tone before bidding him goodnight.

Christine returned to her dormitory that night, laying down slowly and gingerly due to the muscle aches in her whole body. She could not stop thinking about this man, who had taken her life by storm, and in only a few weeks somehow gave her meaning. She had not such an excitement for life in years that she felt when she sang with him. She closed her eyes and tried to sleep, purely because she did not want to lose him.