hey guys, how are you. Sorry it's kinda late. Let me know what you think by typing a lil review pleeeaassee x

xXx

"I'm Nadir Khan," a man greets us warmly and he enters the large room. I'm surprised to find him without a girl on his arm. That's what most men here have. I suppose I am one of them, too.

I don't know why, but I know the man - Nadir. Recognition suddenly clicks and my face must be a picture because he's chuckling at me. Erik is not amused though.

"What do you find so amusing, Daroga?" He snarls the words under his lips.

"My dear, I do not believe we have had the chance to become acquainted." He says, pulling my hand to his mouth for a kiss. "You know my name, so I should know yours." I look to Erik for confirmation, and when he sighs and nods, I look at Nadir.

"I'm Christine Daae."

"I know you!" He exclaims suddenly, causing one or two guests to falter conversation to stare. "You can sing."

I shift uncomfortably, yet Erik's hand is like a shackle around my waist, constantly pressing me against his body. "I remember!" The dark skinned man is still talking. "I auditioned and accepted you. What a voice!" I can only concentrate on Erik's hand, it is suddenly trailing lazy circles around my hip bone, visible through the dress. I̶t̶ ̶f̶e̶e̶l̶s̶ ̶s̶o̶ ̶g̶o̶o̶d̶.

"I thought I recognised you." I smile weakly, my eyes wanting to roll back in pleasure. Erik's eyes don't leave my face. "You haven't changed in the slightest, sir."

"Christine child, you had such a wonderful voice; your father will be dancing in heaven. He was such a kind man-" A raw pain shoots through my chest and I'm breaking, falling apart all over the marble floor.

"Christine," it's Erik. Nadir has vanished. "Remember to breathe, girl."

I pull myself together in a sharp breath. I am a plate; smashed into a million pieces but unable to find the majority. I am broken.

A man walks through the door and everybody's eyes are on him. He lazily strolls towards Erik and I, and I shrink into Erik. He is a pureblood male. He seems to notice me which causes Erik's hand clutching my hip press impossibly tighter; guarding me close.

The man has dark black hair, slicked back into place with a white suit on. His eyes are an emerald green and teeth unnaturally straight as he smiles at me. It is not a kind smile. His nose is very straight and his jaw line very strong. He is walking with a stick, though it is clear he does not need it. A gold eagle is looking at me, half covered by the mans fingers.

"Erik," he greets, uninterested. "How are you, my son? But a better question is who is his beautiful young lady?" He laughs before pulling me out of Erik's vicelike grip and kissing me on the cheeks. "Now, what is your name?" He has hold of my hand. He is smiling that predatory smile.

"Christine," I say, trying to slip my hand from his; he will not have it.

"You're what? Erik's mistress? My, my Erik. You have certainly chosen well this time," he is calling over my shoulder, "what was the last woman's name? Becky, Becca, Bethany?" His hand is trailing down my jaw, and I see lust in his eyes. "Christine, however is such a beautiful creature." His eyes are focused now, running snakes up and down my body. I just want my papa. "Such extraordinary eyes."

"She is my fiancée, I am glad you approve." The words are stiff on his lips as he pulls me back to his side. "Now, if you will excuse us we have a party to host."

xXx

People are dancing. Women's dresses are swirling around the floor; coppers, pinks, greens. But no red. I am the only one in red. I sip on some champagne as Erik talks to different people. He is quite the conversationalist. I've never had champagne before. I don't even think I'm allowed it. The bubbles keep on going up my nose. Erik has turned his gaze to me, inviting me into the conversation. They look very rich. The man, a rotund small thing is smiling at me. He is wearing a burgundy suit, gold chains hanging around his neck. The woman with him is quite plain. She has red hair worn up in a bun, purple lips and a scary smile. Her dress is matches her lips and looks to be made of silk. It sucks her waist in before shooting out, frills flying everywhere. In my opinion she is much too extravagant.

"Christine, this is Carlotta and Piangi of Cape Town. We are fortunate to have them with us tonight." Erik introduces. Piangi kisses my hand and Carlotta curtsies.

Where is Cape Town?

"It's an honour," I say, curtsying, hoping I'm doing the right thing.

"When are you two love birds getting married?" I hear Carlotta purr. She has an accent I can't place.

"Hopefully soon," Erik replies.

I can't hear. Everything is suddenly foggy.

"Excuse me," I hear myself mumble as I stagger away towards what I hope is the bathroom.

"Christine," The voice I've been longing to hear for the majority of my life hisses.

"Raoul," I giggle, "what are you doing here?"

"Where are you going?" I feel his arms shift around me as he drags me out of the big wooden doors. The silence from the chatter and the music is deafening. He sits me on a chair, and crouches down in front of me, fingers clasped.

My head is pounding.

"Christine," his voice is a low croon, and I can't help but compare his to Erik's. "I need you to tell me- did you accept any drinks off people you didn't know?"

"No," I thinking so hard my brain hurts. "I've just been having lots of champagne."

"Ok," his palm covers his face, slowly massaging the temple. "Look, I need to get you back in there. If I don't, Destler will come looking for you. Sober up, Christine."

"Raoul," I can't breathe. "I...I...lov-" I choke.

"You what, Christine?"

"I don't...I can't-"

His lips are suddenly cutting off my words and I cling to him desperately. He's like water in a desert and I've been lost for weeks, parched. I drink his smell, flavor, warmth. I may never feel this again. My heart is pounding frantically in a six-eight rhythm. I'm choking on my love for this boy...no, this man. He pulls away and I'm like a drug addict. I need him. He doesn't say a word to me, just walks away from me down the hall. I want to scream that it hurts when he doesn't speak of me, but my heart is so happy it's skipping in my ears.

"Christine." I look to see Erik's father gazing at me in false concern.

"Sargent." He acknowledges Raoul with a tilt to his head as Raoul salutes back.

"Come along Christine, Erik wishes to see you." Taking his wrinkled hand, I allow him to pull me towards the wooden doors, sparing only one glance back at Raoul.

He is nowhere to be seen.