Michelle walked out into the main theater, where the auditions were to take place. Her mind was a blur with pointed thoughts of what would ensue today. She had been practicing with Erik every night since she was informed by Madame Giry that she and Carlotta would be against one another. She couldn't fail Erik-she wanted to win this competition as a way to pay Erik back for all his work.

Her final practice the night before had proven to her that this was something she wanted to do, when she rose to their final rehersal. Erik had whittled down her accent in song to the point where it was barely noticeable, and her posture was not altered.

The try out song was for Hannible, but the winner would be in for the long haul to learn the piece written by Mozart in honour of his life titled; The Marriage of Figuro. Erik was unfamiliar with this piece but was willing to help her.

"It won't be easy,"

"None of these are," she answered toying with a lock of hair as they sat out in one of the practice theatres.

He glanced at her, "Swan Lake will be easy for you,"

"Why?" she hadn't glanced it over.

"It's written in Russian."

She glanced at it, "Jus think of how Carlotta would sound trying to do Russian," her tone was humorous, so Erik would catch it as a joke-which he did.

"Tomorrow, you will succeed. No amount of money can pawn Carlotta her way into the top spot once they have heard your voice." he said, "I made you perfect,"

"You did," Michelle agreed, "Will you help me still when I do?"

"Always,"

She smiled.

"Come, this is our last night, I want to make it special," he said rising, and taking her hand.

"Where shall we go?"

"Out," he said shortly, with a hint of nervousness, "I want to see the city, and I would like to do this with you."

"And if we get locked out?"

"Then we get a hotel,"

She bit her tongue, "Very well," She rose her hand still in his, and walked out of the theatre and through the front doors to the opera house.

It was snowing, flakes landed on them as soon as they stepped out, the sound of the night life seemed to drown out the coldness, distracting them from the bitter kisses of the snow. Michelle followed as Erik lead, his mask blended him into the snow. Mardi Gras was soon upon them so wearing a mask was not so inconspicuous.

Music could be heard through the walls of various buildings, and various street players on the corners of certain blocks. The tunes were mostly traditional, some even were slow. The sound of the night made Michelle smile-it was something she hadn't considered listening to since her father had died, and for once, she didn't want this new experience to end.

Erik looked pleased. The world seemed not to notice him, and for Michelle this was nice. This beautiful man had chosen her to accompany him into this night. She couldn't read his thoughts but felt him slip his arm around her waist when he let her hand go. she mimiked his gesture, feeling the warmth from his body radiate out from under his coat.

They didn't need to speak, and they didn't enter any building or do anything in particular beyond just walking. For some reason it just felt right.

A violinist on the corner caught Erik's attention, by the slow melody he played. They paused, listening to his well tuned ear until the song was over.

"Do you have a full time occupation?" Erik asked the violin player.

"No, sir. Just play for handouts,"

Erik handed him a small handful of change, "Drop by the Opera Popular and ask for Madame Giry. Tell her Erik sent you,"

The man looked at the change, and back to Erik as if he was speaking to God, "But I," he stuttered, "I don't know what to say,"

"You need not say anything, ser."

"But how do I repay such a kindness?"

"Continue to play well once employed, and perhaps you can play one tune here for my lady."

"Oh but of course," the man placed the bow to string, and released what sounded like an original be released from his violin that played in a basic three step progression.

But rather than just stand a listen, Erik turned to face Michelle.

"May I have this dance?"

She blinked, but her mind registered faster than her tongue and she raised her hands, and let him take her into a sort of waltz right there on the corner of the street. Her footsteps matched his, their eyes locked onto one another like they had been the first night they had met.

As their last night began to end before her big day, he returned her to her dormatory, gently kissing her cheek.

"Thank you, Michelle."

"Thank you, Erik."

That had been one of the most beautiful nights she had experienced in a very long while and it made no matter to her if anyone saw their one moment of bliss.

For Michelle as she stood behind the stage warming up before her initial recital, that could make or break this bond between them, she stared into the mirror before her. In the mirror was a orange-red haired woman, with bright green eyes, and pale skin, dressed as if she belonged to the theatre. Her dress had a forest green skirt, and a brown bodice, with red arm accents made of silk. Michelle had borrowed it out from one of the senior girls whom she had begun to make friends with, ensuring the girl that the dress would be returned to her as soon as the auditions were over. The girl Fylise had simply told her to win the auditions, and she would care what manner the dress returned to her in. But for Michelle, she would return it to her with every respect one should give to her senior.

Carlotta was on the stage ending the audition piece, as the small crowd of judges had assembled along with the rest of the staff and students of the theatre. Michelle didn't know if Erik would be there but she would sing just as she always had before when it was just her and Erik in the practice room.

She heard the crowd applaud, and then she heard the judges begin to speak back and forth, then tell Carlotta to wait in backstage and to send Michelle out front for her chance.

There was a lot of quiet talk back and forth as Carlotta came back stage, and stood beside her for a momnet, pale and not cold like she usually was.

"Good luck-the judges are real sticklers."

Michelle nodded, then turned to face the stage, her footsteps light as she went front and center, her mind whirling in all the instructions that Erik told her to remember when standing out in front of an audience.

The conductor instructed, "The finale from Hannible, madamoiselle. The queen's lines if you would, on my signal."

She nodded, barely seeing the crowd her mind focus souly on the song, and the practice room.