Genny shuffled through the dresses, sometime stopping to pay close attention but mostly shoving them away in disgust. I had my arms folded as I stood behind her.

I pouted. "I can't believe you talked me into this." I wasn't sure what annoyed me more. That Genny had invited me to dinner with her brothers, knowing I wouldn't have any thing proper enough to wear. Or the fact that when I told her this, she asked Madame Leroy, on my behalf, if I could borrow a dress!

Genny seemed happy to ignore my complaints as she busied herself selecting the perfect dress. "How about this one?" She held up a green frock decorated with thick cord.

I shook my head. "I can tell that dress is going to be too small, even without looking at my tape measure." I said dismissively.

"I still think you should wear this one?" she motioned to a dress lying on the back of one of the chairs. I wrinkled my nose. The dress in question was deep pink and far too low cut for my taste.

"I look horrible in that color." I pointed out. Genny stuck out her tongue.

"At least it fits you."

I made my way over to the racks, swiftly shifting each dress. The final performance was still hours away and already my palms were starting to sweat. I was already a nervous person and the thought of this evening's prospects was enough to send me over the edge. I was going to be dinning with the entire de Chagny family in one of the finest restaurants in Paris. My company included not only Genny and her brother, but the self made patriarch of the family, Comte Philippe himself.

Social gatherings, fancy late night dinner these things came natural to these people. I already knew I would be a wreck wondering if I looked and acted appropriately. Wondering if the members of high society could smell out someone who didn't belong.

And I would again risk missing my lesson. The night Raoul had visited us; I had hastily made my way to the stage, even this time managing to find my way to the stairs. He had been waiting for me and suggested coldly that we skip the lesson for the evening. I pleaded with him not to, promising that I would be more prompt in the future.

Our lessons had been going so well. I couldn't bring myself to ask him about tonight. I promised myself that I would make my excuses as early as I could. I even left a note by the stairs, explaining myself and begging forgiveness, and I had made Genny promise to bring me back here to the opera after supper.

What did you have in mind then?" Genny asked, annoyed. "Since you have rejected all of my suggestions?"

I reached in and pulled out a dress to show to her. I had actually had my eye on it for quite some time. It was a modestly cut dress with elegant rows of satin covered buttons running down the back and sleeves.

Genny's eyes widened. "It's gray." She said bluntly.

I frowned. "That's all you have to say about it?"

"It's at least a decade old and it's gray…"

At this I laughed. "No it isn't. Madame Leroy had this dress made three seasons ago, so it's not that old. And it's not gray. It's sliver." I corrected.

"Sliver, slate you can call it the emperor's hat if you want to, it's still grey." Genny smirked. "Trust me I know about these things."

This remark from any other person might appear rude. To say I know about these things because I live in a world of fashion and you are so poor that you must borrow a dress. These things were true, but in our long years as friends despite our differences in class, Genny had never pointed that out.

In fact she seemed determined to drag me into the frays and frolics of the elite, despite my protests. I had begged off attending parties long enough. This time I was stuck. I had to keep telling myself that it wouldn't be so bad. I would be in the company of a well respected family, friends with them so what did it matter what others thought. This was supposed to be an experience.

And I could see Raoul again.

To my great relief, the dinner was not as nerve-wracking as I imagined it to be. Genny had insisted on dinning in a causal cafe versus an elegant private restaurant. The dinning room was decorated in a cozy fashion and we sat off in a private corner with a full view of the guests and the dance floor. As soon as we had entered, Genny was given a round of applause from the dinner guests who had just come from the opera.

I was surprised upon meeting the Comte for the first time that I had recognized him. I had seen him at the opera many times before, backstage after the performances. He was constantly chasing the skirts of the prima ballerina, La Soreli and made no indication that he was ashamed of his behavior. Over dinner, he shattered my impressions of him as the serious elder brother. He laughed as we all shared stories of our summer times at the coast. He even lamented that he had been too old to join us in our adventures back then.

I was soon aware that I was not as excited to see Raoul as I thought I would be. He was the model of a perfect gentleman to me as we talked after our meal. At the same time he was considerate, moving the conversation to topics we could all talk about so I would not feel left out.

But as the evening grew longer, I realized that my heart did not feel the same rush in the company of my friends as it did when I was in my lesson with my maestro. I was anxious to return to the opera, to immerse myself in my lesson. I had known Raoul for many years, but he still felt like a stranger to me. I had known the maestro a few weeks. He was the true stranger, yet I felt a connection to him that was beyond one I would feel for a teacher. Just being near him made me happier than singing.

Slowly, I comprehended why and the thought sent a blush to my cheeks that could have been seen across the restaurant. I pulled out my fan to cover my face.

How can I dissemble those desires that I hardly dare name?

As soon as the idea entered my mind, I desperately tried to push it away. I thought what the maestro would say if I had admitted that to him. He would laugh. He was a grown man who despite his kindness, view me no more than a young girl. A silly costume girl with fantasies of becoming an opera star.

I would never tell him. Maybe this feeling would go away.

Philippe proposed a toast. "This evening has been a true delight." he said, reaching over to fill my glass. "Miss Daae, would you care to start us off."

I took a second to think of something proper to say. "To family and friends, old and new." I said. The Comte nodded at me and smiled.

"To these beautiful ladies and that we may soon see them on the stage together." added Raoul. We all raised our glasses.

Genny stood up abruptly and raised her glass over the rest of us. "And to the Angel of Music! Who has blesses us and watches over us!" she exclaimed. I looked over at her, noticing the glassy look in her eyes. The same look I had seen in when she had told me of the angel.

Raoul and Philippe looked at their sister with concern, then to me. I lowered my eyes.

"Yes, I have no doubt that the Angel has watched over you both." Raoul stated.

"Indeed. To the Angel of Music." Philippe announced as our raised glasses finally to meet each others.

I instructed the driver to pull the carriage around the side of the opera to an entrance that was used by the artists and was often kept open and well lit until midnight. Raoul helped us each from the coach and then rested a hand on my shoulder.

"Christine, may I have a quick word with you?"

I nodded. His arm interlinked with mine as he led me to the other side of his carriage. "Is this about Genny?" I asked anticipating his question.

"No, I'm concerned about you Christine. What are your plans for the future?"

I was surprised at him. "I'm not sure."

"Surely you have plans for a career on stage. You already have a music teacher."

"Yes, but I'm not sure why this is a concern of yours." I asked. He was silence for a few seconds. I could hear Genny calling out for me.

He sighed. "What I'm trying to say that as your friend, I would like to offer my assistance to help your career. A woman in your position could benefit from having a patron. Someone to help you with your singing career."

My eyes widened at the suggestion, as I thought of the other girls in the chorus who had so called 'patrons'. "Raoul...I..."

His face curled in revulsion. "No that came out all wrong. Damn. It wouldn't be anything like what you're thinking. I am an honest man."

"And you are a rich man." I pointed out, wanting to end this conversation.

"Yes and I can use my position to help you. And we would still be friends." he squeezed my arm and looked sincerely at me. "If you would let me."

"No thank you Raoul." I replied. "I much rather make my own success, if I am destined for any at all." He looked at me disappointed. "I trust my music teacher to help me with my decisions. I valued you more as my friend than anything else."

"Christine. Come along. I'm freezing out here." Genny called.

We walked around the other side. Raoul released my arm so I could walk ahead of him as we made our way to the door. "I'll be right back." I told him.

He leaned forward and whispered in my ear. "Christine, I want to let you know, that I value you, more than just a friend." His chocolate brown eyes pinned me with a look of sincerity. Even though it was only October, the breeze in the air was cold enough to make his wispy breath visible to me, and I watched it intently pass from his lips.

His face came closer to mine. I wanted to protest. Raoul shouldn't have said those. He shouldn't have let me know. His lips were hot against the cold skin of my cheek. I recalled our first kiss on the beach at Perros and wondered if he was thinking about the same thing. He left me, the simple kiss burning me.

We went straight to Genny's dressing room were I changed out of the dress and back into my own simple clothes. As I went to return the dress, I tried to make my excuse.

"Thank you again for dinner, Genny. I'll see you soon I hope."

"Yes we have a few days before we start into rehearsals." Genny said, not missing another opportunity to check her reflection in the mirror.

"Goodnight then." I went to shut the door and hurry off to my lesson.

"Wait, Christine. I'll take you home." She offered.

"Oh no thank you…"

"It's late and I know you do not have any work to finish. Why do you think I planed this dinner for closing night?" She protested. "Besides, it's too late for you to walk home...alone" she added.

I frowned. "All right. I'll be right back."

As I made my way down the corridors, I racked my mind to think of any excuse I could give to refuse Genny's offer. Such was my frustration that I realized halfway to my destination that I had left my bag with my keys to the storage area in Genny's room. I turned and sighed, heading back down the hall I had just came. Still blank with an excuse, I returned to the hall of dressing rooms. The gaslights had been turned down.

I turned the corner and saw Genny, at the end of the hall. She turned to the left and I glimpse her face in profile. She seemed to be in trance as she made her way down the hallway that lead out to the stage.

I opened my mouth to call out and then shut it in terror.

Between me and the end of the hallway, a black cloaked figure emerged from the dressing room that had been next to Genny's. This corridor was strictly for female singers and the shade was far too tall to be a woman. It didn't notice me and stalked after Genny. I pressed my back up against the wall on the dark side of the corridor as he turned the corner, praying he wouldn't see me.

I was frozen with fear and in any other situation; I would have run away and saved myself. My heart slammed against my chest. That thing was after my friend, and for every second I stood here, he was getting one step closer.

I took off after them, keeping my footsteps as light as possible, but it was my breathing that was the loudest sound I made. Turing to the left, then the right, up a corridor that had a slight ramp leading up to the stage. At last I had a clean view of them both. Standing back in the wings, I saw Genny turn on the stage, looking around. Around she spun and she must have clearly seen the shade behind her, for he made no move to hide himself.

Stiffly my feet moved me forward. Genny stood still and the shade took another step forward. The look on her face was a dazed one. The same haunting look that she had upon her face when she spoke of her mysterious angel. We both moved closer and closer to her.

As I came closer, I heard something else in the silence. I heard…singing.

Finally I could contain myself no longer.

"Genny!" I cried out and began to run forward.

She did not look at me but the shade did. It turned it head in my direction, but by then it was too late.

Throwing my entire weight, I lunged at the shade. A final burst of air and gasps escaped us both as we fell to the ground. I realized then that I still carried the dress in my hands. In a tangle of limbs we both struggled to get to our feet. I threw the dress at the shade's face, or the place a face would be, for I could see nothing among his black hood. This gave me the advantage and I stood up first, running over to Genny.

I shook her shoulders, shouting. "Genny, you have to run!" This seemed to snap her out her state and she looked at the shade, still fallen on the floor. She screamed and I took her hand and ran.

We made our way down the steps of the stage, and down the left aisle, running all the way back to the far exits. Flinging through the doors, we made our way down the main halls of the opera, out to the elegant foyer. I did not look back to see if we were being followed, for I knew that we were.

We stepped onto the landing, breathless. A stair case separated us from the main floor. I turned Genny to face me and saw her face was white with terror.

"Go!" I commanded. "Go down these stairs and get out of the opera. Don't stop."

She shook her head frantically. "No… no…" she murmured.

We were running out of time. "Yes you have to. I'll make my way to the back entrance." I squeezed her hands tight. "Trust me." As I tried to comfort her by holding her hands, I realized my own were trembling.

She started to nod and I pushed her back.

"Go" I whispered. I spared only a second to watch her descend the first few steps. Then I turned and retreated up the opposite stair and back towards the stage. As I rounded the foyer, my view distorted by the columns as I ran I could see Genny disappear.

And then the shade appeared and ran up the stairs…in my direction.

I quicken my pace to a speed I wouldn't have even guessed I could ever reach. My breathing echoed nosily in the hall and my throat felt raw. I found one of the doors that lead backstage, twisting the lock behind it. I wanted to cry for help, but was fearful that my pursuer would tack my location by my cries.

All the lights back stage were turned down. Some were even shut off entirely which was strange since at least some lights were left on after dark. So I stumbled on my way backstage. I thought after two months working at the opera, I knew my way around, but I was lost among the countless doors and corridors.

Before I knew were I was going, I found myself back on the stage on the left side near the fly rail. I tripped over something and started to fall. My hand stretched out and I managed to grasp one of the ropes to stop myself.

Feeling the wind knocked out of me, I used the ropes to pull myself up. I turned and saw across the stage, between the large backdrops and crisscrossed ropes, the shade pass by. He stopped and looked at me. Even though I could not see his eyes I knew that he was staring directly at me.

"How…." The question escaped my lips involuntary. I doubled back out the door I had just emerged from and resumed running. I managed to find my way to a place of familiarity; the costume storage area beneath the stage. I reached for the door and as my hands touched the handle I cursed.

My keys! I growled in frustration and slammed my fist against the door. To my surprise, it creaked open. I tested the handle again and saw that it was unlocked. I dashed in, and locked the door behind me.

The familiar musky scent of the clothes, stacked and stuffed tightly assaulted my nostrils. I made my way to the center and pushed aside a rack, diving in among the costumes.

I stood stiff as a board, my breath raspy and my chest heaving. My hands were shaking as well as my knees. My feet finally still could now start to feel the throbbing pain run through them. But I was safe.

I had left Genny near enough to the exits to get out within a few minutes. She was surely safe now that I had made the shade follow me halfway through the opera. I would wait here, until I caught my breath. No, perhaps I would stay here longer behind the safety of a locked door.

I could even fall asleep here tonight, my head propped against the thick dresses and garments.

I waited for long moments, my mind surprising blank and quiet. I think I nodded off for a minute or two, for I felt my head jerk slightly and I blinked.

Stepping out of my hiding place, I calculated the nearest exit from the storage area.

My hand was snatched from behind me, pulling me back. The fingers that grabbed it were cold and boney things and they pressed a vice like grip at the joint of my wrist.

I cried out in pain and was spun around with in an unnatural and excruciating fashion to face the shade. Even standing this close, I could not make out any features beneath the black cloak. His grip tightened and the sting of it forced my tired body down onto my knees.

Somehow, I managed to find my voice. "Please…don't…." I started. "Do what you want with me, but please don't hurt my friend. Please. Please." I begged. If he had managed to find me, despite locked doors, then he probably had caught Genny as well. My head fell down between my shoulders and I started to cry

A swift breath escaped from under his hood. He scoffed.

"What makes you think that I was after her?" he whispered. His voice, cold and flat was like out of a nightmare. "What makes you so sure that you weren't the one I wanted to catch…Persephone?"

At that I jerked up only to be greeted with a wet cloth slapped against my face and held there firmly with his other hand. I struggled. My open mouth let some of the liquid pour in.

My struggles stopped and my world faded into darkness.

End of Act One

A/N: Now that we are about nine chapters in, I think it's all right if I take the time to make a few points. Thanks to all who have read and reviewed and put me on their story alerts. I haven't written "phan phiction" in about 4 years so I'm all little out of the loop in the whole community. If you like this story so far, tell your friends or anyone else who might like Phantom!

Christine- Yes just like the Kopit and Yeston version, Christine in this story starts out working at the opera as a dresser (I prefer that term or wardrobe assistant versus 'costume girl' which sounds like an insult. I've worked in the costume industry and studied theatre and I've never heard that term used in a real world context) I did this for two reasons. First when we meet Christine in the Leroux novel, she is already in the chorus and working her way up. In opera, members of the chorus take turns playing leading roles and there are only a handful of stars and divas. Many of the well known works of opera involve very little involvement of a full blown chorus in every scene, since most the story and action is the lead characters. So when we are introduced to our heroine, she is already in a position of stardom and she had a relationship with Erik/The Angel from earlier on that we never get to read about. Making her a working girl for me, makes Christine connect more with her common man (or in this case woman) Secondly, having her gift for singing still remained in tact, despite not having training and then achieving success makes it a "Cinderella" story. Perhaps I'm a romantic when I come to these things, but hey, I am the author :) Also we get a chance to establish a face to face relationship between Erik and Christine, which to me makes it more shocking and frightening when he finally abducts her.

Also notes on the translations. I was using two resources of Mozart's Le Nozze di Figaro while writing the lyrics in the music lesson scenes. One was from a score and the other from the libretto in an opera guide. When I compared them side by side, I noticed different words to each of the aria. Unsure which one is correct, I chose the translation that I thought fit better with the context of the scene. There is more of this opera in the next act. I'm not completely sure why there are differences in Lorenzo Da Ponte's text. If anyone knows the answer, feel free to share it with me. (Side note: If you've never seen/heard Mozart's Le Nozze de Figaro, go out and get a copy! Now. Rent if from the library or see it live if you can!)

Okay, again to all who have been sticking with this so far. Upcoming lots of E/C awkward angst, characters getting their comeuppances, and plenty of opera!

Your obedient servant, P.C.