Everything I Do

OceansAway and Gerik's Angel

The next day she got up early with her partner George to practice the dance moves that she had skipped the day before. After that, they went to rehearsals, and then...then was what she had been dreading all day - singing rehearsals. She feared that Erik would be there, and when she arrived there, she saw that she had been right. He was there, in the conductor's pit with music sheets surrounding him as he sat looking up at the stage.

The Diva, La Ruby Para was called up front, following her understudy Rose Smith, the cousin of the manager, as Christine had just found out earlier that day from George. To her surprise, they wanted Christine to come forth too.

"You'll all sing for Mr. Destler so he can see how to work with you and how to write his music."

Christine's eyebrow perked up. How to write his music? Erik never let anyone tell him how to write his music, especially not these untalented women!

Standing up there with them, Christine felt so young. Ruby Para was in her late thirties, maybe older. Rose was in her late twenties. And there Christine was, barely twenty! They had more experience than she, but it was her teacher that sat in front of them to judge. She ran through everything he had ever taught her and asked from her. She could do this easily. He'd allow her to outshine them all. That's why he was doing this after all, wasn't it? Of course it was!

Ruby smiled confidently, knowing there was no way he could cast her out. Putting her hands together at her chest, she opened her mouth wide and started to sing, loud and hard. When she finally stopped, Christine noticed that Erik's body had gone rigid, his jaw set, his eyes reduced to slits. That only meant trouble, or at least that had been to her experience.

"What was that?" he yelled. "This is your divine diva? Dogs howl at what you just called singing! Horrid! Is this how all of America is with their Opera Houses, or is this the only one so wretched?"

"But...but Monsieur...this is one of the most prized Houses in all of the nation!"

"This isn't a very good nation then, is it?" Erik shouted, then sat back down and waved his hand as if to clear the air. "Understudy, sing."

Rose was now clearly disturbed, for Ruby was her better. If Ruby was horrid... What would she be called? But she sang her best anyway, Christine watching Erik closely. Clearly something had managed to get him in a terrible mood, and she feared she knew what that was.

Erik just shook his head sadly when Rose stopped. "Vile. Absolutely revolting." He said in his sorrow. "This is what Americans call music? I have never felt prouder to be French. You need to replace your divas, Monsieur Smith."

Mr. Smith stayed quiet as Erik gazed back up at the stage. At her, his former Angel, Christine, right before his eyes.

"And this is who you leave me with?" He finally said, swallowing his emotions. "A lowly chorus girl, and when she's not that she's a ballet rat or a messenger girl? This is who you leave me to listen to? Pathetic!" He spat.

Christine's heart fell. Oh, how many times would he hurt her in such a short amount of time?

She closed her eyes, willing her tears to stay. A ballet rat? Lowly chorus girl?

"Sing." Her angel demanded, not in his beautiful soothing voice, but his harsh, fearful, demanding one. A voice he saved for managers when they disobeyed him or Raoul when he tried to take his beloved away. But to use it towards his angel? How could she sing to that?

Her eyes were watering more than she was able to control.

"Are you deaf, girl? Sing!" He urged, getting angry, as if he wasn't already.

She opened her sad eyes, staring at him as a single one fell down her smooth cheek. Her mouth couldn't open, let alone sing her heart out for this man.

"Get her off stage! She is useless to me. I will have to work with the other two for quite a while to try and get their voices in shape. Continue through with tomorrow's show, then cancel the rest until I have them perfectly trained."

Christine closed her eyes, not being able to breath. He was going to tutor other women? But she was his student! His one and only!

'Not anymore.' She thought, her mind stating the all too obvious. George hurried out and wrapped his arm around her, then walked her off stage, where she collapsed to the ground unceremoniously as soon as she reached her rooms and sobbed in to her hands. Her angel was indeed dead.

She found herself just inside her rooms. She could hear faint yelling. She concluded that rehearsal continued.

As she began to move, she was forced still by a bout of dizziness. That's what you get for being weak! Crying yourself to sleep! The voice only brought on the tears again. She knew she was weak. She was not only weak, but also naïve, foolish, and indecisive.

Why did her heart throb at the thought of his love her gone?

Was she really that vain? Did she need the love and admiration of all to keep her happy?

Or was it something deeper? Why was he always on her mind? Why was did she sense this connection between them.

That why she came in the first place, wasn't it? To forget about the angel in Hell? To leave that Hell behind and enter her heaven of martial bliss?

What was she really escaping? She didn't leave Raoul. She loved him. Why did that come out as loved? She refused to answer her own question.

Why did it seem that whenever she was alone, questions filled her mind as tears streamed down her cheeks?

She didn't know the answer to that question, only took it as fact. For more her tears fell more plentifully than stars in the sky.

A/N: I had a problem finishing that last analogy. I thought of "pages in the dictionary," "hairs on her head," and "blades of grass on the de Chagny estate." But all of those are kinda odd…

Ignore that last comment!

Go and check out a oneshot that I plan to have up sometime tonight if you have the time.

Review and make this authoress's day!