Okay, so this chapter is the longest one I wrote and appears lengthy but most of it is dialog between Lorenzo and Christine. In this chapter it's Valentine's Day, and at the end of the chapter it isn't over. I decided to add a little twist at the end that I think you readers might enjoy ;]

another note, as much as I wish I could record a clip of me playing a song and attaching it to appropriate parts of the story so you can get more of a feel of what the characters are hearing when listening to music...I can't :[ there's a scene in the early part of this chapter when Christine hears Lorenzo playing a sad tune on the piano, just to help give you guys an idea of what it would sound like I will tell you to imagine the song "Davy Jones" by Hans Zimmerman (Pirates of the Caribbean 2). It's a very simple and melancholy tune, and I leave that option for you to look it up if you'd like a full feel of what Christine feels as she describes the song. (No, I don't own anything Phantom of the Opera or Pirates of the Caribbean). please enjoy reading this chapter. it took be a very long time to edit/add/cut a lot conversation between Lorenzo and Christine, so I hope I added and cut all the right things. read and review, thank you!


CHAPTER 9: Love At First Sound

"...opera is where a guy gets stabbed in the back,

and instead of dying,

he sings..." -Robert Benchley

Christine's POV

"Miss Daae."

I opened my eyes to see one of Raoul's servants hovering over me. I slowly sat up and found myself in his room.

"I'm sorry to have wakened you, Monsieur Trentacosta advised us not to wake you for some time, but it's now four o'clock."

"In the afternoon?"

"Yes ma'am."

Four o'clock! It was improper for a lady to be in bed past ten in the morning, but I couldn't deny that the twelve hour sleep was something my body needed. I felt a lot better. A small knock came from the door and the maid walked out as Raoul entered the room.

"How did you sleep my dear?" he pressed a soft kiss on my forehead as he took a seat next to me on the mattress.

"Very well, too well I'm afraid." I honestly felt a slobbish for sleeping in this late; over half the day was now already over.

"Nonsense, you needed rest my love." He stroked my cheek with his thumb and sighed, "I actually have to be on my way though."

I noticed he was wearing his light brown leather coat, which he only wore when going out to places, it was the coat from when I first saw him at the opera house.

"What time did you get in this morning?"

"Around six o'clock. Lorenzo told me that you hadn't been sleeping that long when I came to check in on him."

"He was awake?"

"Unfortunately I think I might've waked him when I came in to get you, but I guess he seems fine. Apparently he's been awake all morning."

Did he not sleep at all?

"You're going to the theatre." It wasn't a question; it was something I just had to say out loud to help myself get used to the idea because this whole situation seemed so bizarre; we were still in Paris. Last night I was torn between two men, stolen away by one of them, and forced to choose my life. Going to England actually now did seem like the ideal thing to do; ideal but not something I would've enjoyed.

"Yes. Christine please don't tell me you're having second thoughts."

"No, I'm not. It's just strange to wake up to…a new day." I felt like I made no sense.

"That's the point Christine; it's a new day." Raoul gave that boyish smile that echoed through my childhood memory, "You should go out and enjoy the day, or what's left of it. Perhaps you could show Lorenzo around the city? One of the maids told me he's been doing nothing but sitting at the piano for hours just staring at it."

"You play?"

"No, it just came with the house; it's in the music room downstairs."

"Oh." Was all I managed to get out.

"Well I must be off; I'll try not to be too long." He gave me a quick peck on the lips but before leaving the room he stopped in the doorway, "And Christine, maybe you'd like to go to Madame Giry's house later on? I'm sure Meg would have something you could wear…instead of that wedding dress…" then he left.

I had forgotten that I was still wearing Erik's wedding dress. The thought that this dress could be the only thing I would have left as a remembrance of Erik sent a chill down my spine; solid proof he existed. Where was Erik now? Was he even alive? God knows what that man could do to himself that state of sadness I left him behind. I didn't want Erik to be dead.

Then, piercing through the silence of Raoul's home, I could hear a soft melody weave through the air. I held my breath as I began to follow the bittersweet tune that tenderly echoed through the halls until I came into a bright room with nothing but a piano in the center with Lorenzo seated before it. Even though he could only play with his right hand because his other arm was in a sling; the melody was nonetheless beautiful. He struck the high piano keys on the right playing a slow melancholy tune. His head was bowed down and his dark brown hair hung in front of him as he played. I had never heard this song before, but it as I listened I felt the beating of my heart sync to the beat and fill with sadness. As I continued to listen I felt as if I had lost a part of my soul that would never return. The song finally came to an end.

"That was beautiful." I whispered.

Lorenzo quickly sat up. His silver eyes glistened in the sunlight as he looked in my direction. He turned away to face opposite of where I stood.

"How long have you been there?" his voice was unsteady and deep.

"I came in a little after you started playing."

His back still faced me and he said nothing. Had I intruded on his privacy?

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude. It's just…it was really beautiful."

At this he slowly turned around and looked at me. If there was anything that stood out the most about Lorenzo it was his silver eyes and in contrast with his dark brown hair it was hard to not notice how alluring he was.

"Thank you."

"Who wrote it?" surely Erik would've played it for me; it seemed like something that would appeal to his liking.

"I did…"

"It's very sad."

"Yes."

"Does it have a name?"

"Sophie…Sophie's Lullaby."

"You must really love her." I gave him a smile; Sophie was a lucky girl to have him.

"Yes. I did."

This remark made me sympathize for Lorenzo; no wonder his eyes held such sadness.

"What happened?" he looked off into space as his jaw clenched, I could see I was touching on a sensitive topic, "Forgive me, you don't have to answer that."

"She died in a fire nine years ago; six years old." He almost whispered.

It dawned on me that Sophie wasn't a lover.

"Your sister?"

"Yes."

I now understood. His chest, they were burns. He had been in the same fire when he was thirteen. How horrible was that fire that it had mangled his body to extremes? They were so horrid and misshapen that if the burns from his chest were on his face instead it would've been worse than Erik's deformity.

I sat next to him on the piano bench as he continued to stare off into space. His face held no expression, but his eyes overflowed with emptiness. I wanted to comfort him and let him know I too had lost someone special. I placed my hand on his back.

"I'm so sorry." I whispered.

He turned his face towards mine.

"I wasn't strong enough." Was all he said then one of the maids came in telling Lorenzo that there was a carriage ready for him to go into the city.

"Christine-"he hesitantly called my name, "Would you want to come? I don't know Paris…or rather, no, just stay it's good to learn things alone."

"No, I'll go with you." I didn't want to stay in Raoul's house all day, "I have to go to a friend's house anyway." Raoul was right; I should at least change out of the wedding dress.

"I just need to get a few things before we go." Lorenzo half smiled.

I waited for him in the carriage, but when he came in he looked aggravated.

"Is something wrong?"

"I can't find my compositions." He muttered.

"Were they in that bag of yours in the room?"

"Yes. They were. Did you say we were going to your friend's house?" he asked sharply.

"If you didn't mind going after you're done with your errands."

"Madame Giry's house?" he inquired.

"Yes, I have to get a change of clothes."

"No, I don't mind." The frustration in his voice made me feel slightly uncomfortable.

"Where did you want to go?" I asked timidly.

"The bank, I have to exchange money to buy some new clothes. Then perhaps something to eat; I'm sure you're hungy."

It was true. I was very hungry.

"Did you eat anything?"

"No, I don't like being waited on."

I knew he meant Raoul's servants because I didn't like it either; it made me feel awkward.

"You're wearing nothing but a dress." He pointed out.

"I know."

"It's snowing outside." He shrugged off his coat and handed it to me.

"Won't you be cold?" I asked while accepting his jacket.

"Hardly, I must buy a new one anyway." His jacket smelt wonderful, I wondered if it was what Italy smelt like.

"You don't look Italian." Anyone could see that, he seemed almost too pale, even the way he talked didn't suggest he could be from there. He looked nothing like Piangi or some of the other Italians from the opera house.

"I'm not full Italian. You don't miss a thing Christine."

"What else are you then?"

"My mother was Scottish-English. My father was full Italian."

I didn't miss that he said 'was' and began to wonder if Lorenzo had any family. I would ask him another time.

After we went to the bank I helped Lorenzo shop for new clothes. I had never shopped with a male before, but it was a lot easier than shopping with Meg. He bought plain white shirts and two new coats; both black. He seemed to have trouble deciding what to wear on top of his undershirts though. He caught the attention of the salesman.

"Ahh monsieur allow me to help you! Perhaps something like this?" the salesman pulled off the rack an elegant light blue vest that looked like something Raoul would wear, I almost laughed at Lorenzo's stale expression. The salesman noticed Lorenzo's disinterest, "Perhaps something darker then?"

After Lorenzo purchased all the clothes he needed to acquire he went in the back of the store to change appropriately for the weather. When he came out it was truly a sight; his new black coat and crimson vest underneath was very slimming and brought attention to his broad shoulders. He looked older than Raoul.

"Decent enough?" he asked uncertainly.

"Perfect for you."

We decided to go to a local French café for lunch or rather breakfast since neither of us had anything to eat all day, even though it was almost near dinner time. He took a bite into his chicken sandwich when he closed his eyes as he chewed.

"This is very good." He said after he swallowed, "You French live up to your reputation."

"What reputation?" I asked curious.

"That they make the finest sandwiches. I am now able to say so for myself." He continued to eat when I spotted a bit of mayonnaise on the corner of his mouth.

I snickered at his cluelessness.

"Why do you laugh?" he questioned.

"You just have some- I'll get it." I took a napkin and wiped it off for him.

"Embarrassing." Something then seemed to have caught his attention causing him to look to the left. I looked to see what had grasped his interest to see a couple leaning over the table to kiss one another, "I'm sorry you couldn't spend today with the Vicomte."

I turned back to see him gazing at me, "It's fine, the theatre needs a lot of attention."

"On Valentine's Day." He remarked.

A sinking realization filled my body. I didn't even know that today was Valentine's, but it had to be because yesterday was the 13th. Raoul must've not realized it either since he said nothing to me earlier.

"It's fine." I gave an assuring smile that I was alright.

"Do you love him?" most of the conversations Lorenzo and I had were questions; questions that would once in awhile lead to some sort of small confession about ourselves. It almost felt like a game to get to know the other one without telling too much of your own self. As much as I found myself strangely enjoying this pattern of conversation; this question was rather a bold one.

"Of course I love Raoul."

"Not Raoul, Erik."

"What?"

"Do you love Erik?"

I mentioned Erik's name once to him. How could he have remembered something that appeared insignificant?

"Why do you ask that? I'm engaged."

"Engaged women rarely cry over other men, or at least from what I attempt to understand."

"Maybe you shouldn't attempt to do so." I retorted.

"There are countless types of love. You say one thing and your eyes recall an entire memory that echoes hurt throughout your face; especially last night. I asked if you love Erik to see…not to pry, I just never have talked…or understand someone before."

This was the first time Lorenzo admitted something and he had a hard time trying to say it. He wanted to understand me; no one ever said that to me before…not even Raoul. He noticed.

"I care for him."

"What happened?"

"He…he wasn't who I thought he was."

"You don't like being in my presence then..."

"What? No, I never said-"

"You said I reminded you of him last night."

I was at a loss for words. It was true. Lorenzo did remind me or Erik; their looks, their deformities, the music, the way they talked, their charisma, even their fashion, but Lorenzo somehow differed from Erik in so many other ways. I could talk to him.

"You just have some things in common." That was simple.

"I'll stop. Forgive me." He apologized.

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Do you have a lover?" I asked. I was actually rather curious to know.

"You mean someone to love me in return?"

"Well yes."

"Then no."

I felt sad, who wouldn't want to be taken by a talented young man?

"Do you love her?" I posed.

"I don't think I can even call it that…" he sighed, "She knows not of my existence."

"Why don't you make it known to her? Today is Valentine's Day; you could have some luck in charming her."

"I-I do not know her name." he admitted.

"Love at first sight?" I slightly teased.

"No, more like first sound…"

"Who is she then?"

"Well, when I arrived last night…no, I'm going to sound mad-"

"Lorenzo, I've heard madder things before."

He gave another one of his half smiles.

"When I arrived last night I was late for the opera, and wasn't allowed in the auditorium but there was one song before the fire started and I could hear music and this girl…"He cut off thinking of the next words to say, "I could hear her sing and her voice-"

I couldn't breathe while Lorenzo's story processed through my mind.

"Was her voice good?" I cautiously asked.

He looked up and his eyes burnt right into mine, "Unlike anything in the universe."

"Is…is this the girl you…love?"

"You think I'm mad."

"No! I…I don't think you're mad, but you fell for someone because of their voice?"

"It wasn't just her voice, but…the soul within it, it was…I don't expect you to understand." He sighed.

But how I did indeed understand, and deeply flattered that my singing had blindly caused someone to attract someone like Lorenzo. Even though a part of me wanted to tell him right now that it was me who had sung last night, something fought against the urge and told me things would be best to keep to myself. I always thought Erik had been too generous when he claimed he fell in love with me the moment he heard me sing, but now there was true evidence right in front of me that it happened and more than once.

"I'll probably never find her." He spoke to himself.

"Why do you say that?" it had been less than a day's worth of time and he was already successful.

"I'm not fortunate when it comes to things like that."

"Things like what?"

"Love…or companionship."

"Why would you think that?" I softly asked.

"If I was then you wouldn't have seen shuddered at the sight of my chest…it doesn't matter, even if I did meet her she wouldn't be available to me."

"How could you know that?"

"When she sang…I told you it wasn't just her voice; her soul manifested itself in that song and within whomever she sang it with. The rarest beauty comes from truth; truth came from that stage. She could never be mine."

I remembered the moment Erik sang on stage and how his words caressed my senses, allowing myself to release the desire to sing for no one but myself and him. I would never admit it to anyone, but the audience disappeared that night…there was only music and Erik, and I felt something strong come over my body; something that I couldn't fight. For years I had thought I was the only one who could feel affected in that way musically or was the only one who could recognize it, but Lorenzo heard this himself. Not only did he hear the music but he was under the impression that I belonged to Erik just because he heard us sing. Lorenzo knew nothing, but could feel everything.

"It's almost sunset." He pointed out, "We should go to your friend's house. I'm looking very forward to meeting her."

We paid for our meal and left. Madame Giry usually stayed at the opera house with the rest of the ballet dancers but owned a small house in Paris. When her husband died she didn't see any reason for her to stay in their home, but now with the opera house going under construction and no one to instruct for the time being where else would she go? When we arrived at Meg's house the sun had just finished setting and it was getting darker by the minute. We walked on the front path towards the front door.

"Meg-"

"Shh!" Lorenzo clasped his hand over my mouth, "Do you hear that?" he whispered.

I stayed silent for a moment but heard nothing.

"I don't hear anything." I said after Lorenzo's hand dropped from my lips.

"Yes because they stopped playing." He growled.

I knocked three times at the front door, "Meg? Meg are you home?"

There was silence.

"I just heard a door close inside." Lorenzo bitterly informed.

How could he hear things that I couldn't?

"I can hear you Meg. It's me, Christine!"

The door finally cracked open to reveal Meg's face.

"Hi Christine." She greeted shyly. She then looked at Lorenzo, who for some reason looked beyond angry, "What brings you here?" she asked looking back to me.

"I just wondered if I could borrow some clothes. Raoul doesn't have anything for me to wear."

"Oh…well of course. I'll go pick some and bring them to you-"

"I'm so very sorry but do you mind if I come in? I'm in need of a bathroom." Lorenzo somehow managed to make a simple request sound like a death threat. Why was acting like this?

Meg timidly nodded and opened the door to let us in, "The bathroom is the last room on the left down the hall."

"Is your mother home?" Lorenzo inquired.

"No, she's at work."

"But of course." And he left to go to the bathroom.

"I'm sorry, I don't know why he's acting like this…he was fine just before we got here." I apologized to Meg.

"It's really fine. I'm not bothered at all. I'm going to just get you some things to wear. Just please sit here and wait. Maman is very embarrassed how dirty the house is. Please just wait there Christine." And she was off.

I took a seat at the table in the front room. Meg came back in what seemed less than ten minutes with a stuffed bag.

"There you are Christine. I hope they all fit comfortably, but I happen to have a lot of chores to do still so maybe we could do something another time?" she seemed rushed. I got the impression she didn't want me here.

"We should sometime." I agreed.

After a few more minutes Lorenzo strode back into the room.

"Meg, am I right?" Lorenzo asked.

"Yes."

"I couldn't help but notice a piano in one of the rooms down the hall. Do you play?" he continued.

"No."

"And no one else is here?" his jaw clenched tightly.

"Just me." Meg wearily smiled.

"Lorenzo what is this all about?" I asked. He was being so rude!

"Very well. Have a good night then." Then furiously walked right out of the door.

"I-I'm so sorry. I should go see what's wrong with him."

"Goodnight Christine, I'll see you soon." Meg closed the door behind me as soon as I left.

I got in the carriage and sat across from Lorenzo, who was staring out of the window fuming.

"Lorenzo, what is wrong?"

"Do not talk. Just don't" his eyes closed as his hand held his face.

Silence filled the compartment with the exception of Lorenzo's rapid breath. I was scared to say anything but something about Meg had severely bothered him to make him this angry, and I was beyond shocked by his callousness.

"Why were you being so rude to Meg?"

"I thought I told you not to talk." His eyes were still closed.

"You're obviously so upset about something that Meg did so why-"

"Upset? I'm absolutely infuriated!" his silver eyes finally opened and casted a menacing look that was equivalent to Erik's, "She's a liar!"

As scared as I was, Meg was my friend and I was going to defend her, "How could you assume such a thing? She's not a liar!"

"Really Christine? Then tell me who was playing the piano when we got there!" he snapped.

"What are you talking about? Meg doesn't play the piano!"

"My compositions Christine, remember? You said her mother found me. My music was in my bag when I came to Paris, and now I sure as hell know that I didn't drop them anywhere because I could hear her playing my music when we got to her house! I knew she was your friend so I had to leave before I lost control of my temper."

"You heard someone playing the piano?" There could be no way...

"Yes, I did. I know my own songs when I hear them Christine."

"And that's why you told me to be quiet when we got there…"

"Yes."

"Monsieur!" we were almost at Raoul's but I didn't care. I slightly opened the compartment door, "Monsieur, please go back!" I cried.

"To Madame Giry's?" the driver asked.

"Yes!" I slammed the door shut.

"So she does play the piano?" Lorenzo queried.

"No. No she does not."


The next chapter will be in Erik's POV (why do you think so? ;]), and *spoiler alert* we get to see Christine bitch out Meg in the next chapter. WOO! haha, and again if you would like to see something happen in this story or hear a certain character say something to another character then please suggest it, I'm open to fun and crazy ideas. weiver - (spell it backwards)