Christine stood angrily before Erik as he commanded her to sing this song and that, over and over. Their lesson seemed to never end, but both kept getting more and more frustrated with the other.

"Stop! Stop, please! Why do you not sing as I know you can? Where is that beautiful voice?" Erik asked, looking at her in annoyance.

She crossed her arms.

"I'm singing just fine!"

"For a dead cat! You must sing better! How you used to! You've only stopped your lessons a year ago - you can not have possibly forgotten everything I've taught you."

"You taught me nothing, Monsieur. My angel did." She said, turning her back to him.

"What have I done to you?" He yelled angrily. "Why are you so mad at me? I have only looked out for you! I raised your salary by a threefold! You have enough money to eat out at every meal, keep nice clothes on your back and decorate your room. I have you being my center diva that will surely cause you great fame if you would only let it. Pray, tell me Madamoiselle, what have I done so wrong to offend you that you'd throw all this away?"

She closed her eyes, leaning her forehead against the wall. "Just that. None of this is for me! Don't think I'm so childish as to believe that. Besides, you said so yourself - you're in this to raise your fame. I am only your tool that you cope with until you go off to your next opera house to train some other singer."

He shrugged, then nodded. "Good girl, you've grown up a bit since you've been gone. You're right, it's true. I'm using you. But at the same damn time, you're using me. As you have for years. I never expected a single thing in return. But now I ask for it. Do you give it? No. You act like a child."

"You just said I was mature." She whispered, looking away.

"Again, why do you act as such? I don't deserve for you to be angry with me. If anything, I should be more than furious with you."

"What did I do to you?" She exclaimed. It was he who dragged her in this. It was he who kept ruining her life!

"You ran away! Do you know what you have done to everyone? Madame Giry is frantic, but nothing compared to whom you called your friend. Meg is beside herself with worry. And that boy of yours...he's not even in his right mind anymore! All because you wanted to run off to New York and have your fun."

"I wasn't having fun! Does this look like fun?" She shouted angrily, hot tears welling once again. "Fun is lounging in a mansion with servants at my feet and being called a Vicomtess! Fun is being respected for once in your life, Erik!"

"You think I don't know?" He asked softly. "But if you like it so much, why aren't you there now? Why aren't you doing all those things right at this moment instead of slaving in horrid, run down place?"

She looked away, not ready to reveal such a thing yet.

"If you wont even answer, you might as well continue on singing. Go on, sing more. And this time, do it right."

She inwardly groaned, stepping back and straightening up. She sang much better, but her heart wasn't in it, and her mind was far, far away.