Auditions weren't all too lengthy. A good handful of singers from the choir showed up, but Christine didn't pay them any mind. She felt more than prepared thanks to Erik's help. When she reached the stage, every worry that she had left inside washed away as the lights bathed out the small, judging audience of the maestro and his few assistants.

"Erik," Maestro Gallet used his conducting voice, "Miss Daaé will be singing for her audition. Miss Daaé, whenever you're ready."

Christine looked to Erik who was awaiting her signal. She breathed to relax and nodded. He played the opening notes, sweet and gentle as they were written. Christine held her posture and allowed her soul to unravel itself before them, focusing on everything she and Erik had worked on together. She reached the upper registry, notes soaring through the heavens and falling back down to earth.

"Excellent," the maestro said as she ended the small section of the solo. "Thank you, Miss Daaé. Next!"

As she turned to leave out into the hall, she looked to Erik for approval. His eyes were closed, fingers still hovering over the ivory keys, smile splaying across his lips. He looked up and turned his head to her slightly, nodding.

It did not matter what the maestro thought. It did not matter what other members of the choir thought. What mattered was what Erik thought. That was all the approval she needed to be satisfied.

Erik walked Christine to her car after rehearsal.

"You were perfect," he said, applauding her audition. "I hope they give you the best solo they've got for sopranos. You were the best one to audition."

Christine blushed. "I'm sure that's not true."

He rolled his eyes. "Always so modest."

She sighed. "I try." Erik opened her car door for her and she entered, thanking him.

"Oh, Christine," he said, before closing the door, "Would you be interested in coming to my place for dinner Saturday? Maybe we could watch a movie?"

Something sparkled behind her eyes. It had been so long since she had gone to someone else's for dinner. She missed such invitations. "Sure. What time?"

"How about five?"

She scrunched her nose. "That kind of cuts into ballet."

"Then six?"

She nodded. "I could do six, but I'd be coming straight from ballet. I might be a bit of a mess."

He chuckled. "I don't mind. I may be a mess as well considering I'll probably be in the kitchen."

She laughed. "Alright. See you then."

He nodded and shut her door, watching her pull off.

As soon as Christine opened the front door of her apartment, Meg shot up from the couch and turned, walking towards her. Her eyes were wide.

"Christine," she said with a certain urgency, "You're never going to guess who visited while you were gone."

Christine closed the door, looking at Meg with amusement. "Was it a celebrity?" she asked, mockingly.

"No," Meg said. "Well, not exactly."

"Tell me already!" Christine urged.

"Raoul de Chagny."

A sort of unknown force seemed to strike Christine in the chest. "R-Raoul?" Her voice was soft now.

Memories of her past with Raoul came in a quick, overwhelming wave. The first time they met, how he swam through the freezing waters to retrieve her treasured scarf, kissed her lips for the very first time, held her tight as she cried after reminiscing over her mother. Her first love and she thought the love of her life. But he left her, dropped her without much regard all for the sake of his family business.

He had invited Christine to parties of all sorts to be his escort, but Christine didn't enjoy that lifestyle all too well. She made countless excuses just to avoid seeing him waste himself with a bunch of other party guests. They all pretended to be happy, but they didn't see the truth. None of them were happy and Christine did not want that, but she wanted him. She wanted him and loved him for the person he truly was, and he loved her, but he grew tired of her excuses.

Do you want me or not Christine? He texted her late one night.

Of course I want you. I love you.

It doesn't feel like it. Every time I invite you somewhere you've always got some excuse.

I just don't like parties.

These events are a big deal for me and my family's business. How am I to have you if you cannot at least support me at these things?

I'm sorry, Raoul. I love you.

I'm tired of the lies and excuses, Christine. I think we need to take a break.

No! Please!

You know this is what's best for us.

That had been over a year ago. She had practically forgotten about it. How had she forgotten after all the tears? All the moments they had shared together? It seemed as if he had never existed.

Meg continued speaking, breaking Christine's line of thought. "He came to send you his condolences over your father." She paused, lowering her voice. "And he wants to get back with you."

Christine felt a rush of emotions overcome her. Love, hate, fear, anxiety, sorrow. Every one all at once. How could one feel so many things all because of one person's actions?

Meg pulled a card from her pocket. "He told me to give this to you. He wants to take you to lunch Sunday. He wanted to do dinner, but I told him you were busy."

Christine took the card. His cellphone number was written on the back. She headed off to bed and opened her phone.

Hey, Raoul. This is Christine. Where do you want to meet for lunch? she typed.

Her thumb hovered over the send button, waiting for a small twitch of the muscle or a voluntarily stroke to make her decision.

A/N: Sorry I've been a bit absent lately. I had a busy weekend. Hopefully back on my regular publishing schedule! Thanks for all the reviews!