Josephine was disappointed, but not surprised, when the viscomte didn't come to their final dress rehearsal. She knew that something horrible had happened with Christine and that he needed to be there for her, but she couldn't help but feel a little bit jealous. By all accounts, he was tired of her. He didn't want to deal with her anymore. Yet he stayed at her side. Yet he continued to show support for her even though she showed no support for him. She couldn't understand what he could possibly still see in Christine Daae.

Then again, she couldn't see what Erik saw in her, either. From all he'd told her, she'd brought him nothing but pain. Her only redeeming quality, in Josephine's eyes, was that she had impeccable taste in men.

Josephine was nervous when it came time for her to take the stage alone and sing her solo, an aria that made her want to cry. It was so sad. She used her emotions to fuel her wavering voice, and when she began to feel like she couldn't do it, she remembered the Phantom laughing at her that afternoon, dismissing her. Telling her to stop wasting his time.

And her voice came back to her with such a force that it nearly knocked her off her feet. She powered through the second half, holding the final note for so long that she began to see spots and feel faint. The wings thundered with applause as the rest of the cast lauded her for her performance.

She finished the rehearsal with the same strong voice, but she was utterly spent by the time she sang her final note. She didn't know how she was going to manage doing that more than once, but her angel of music had told her she could, and so she had to try.

After she was given her notes and everyone was told when to be back in the morning, she hurried back down to the catacombs, desperate to talk to Emmalyn. she had to know what Raoul was going to be up against. She wanted to be able to warn him.

That second night, Christine slept a little better, and they both had a bit more room, because they moved back into the master bedroom. Raoul didn't know what magic their maids had needed to work to clean up so much blood, but it was nearly impossible to tell that anything had happened.

Christine clung to him in the same way she had the night before, but she slept more easily and she didn't have as many night terrors. Raoul actually managed to sleep fairly well, his chin rested lightly against the top of her head. He'd forgotten how soft she was.

When Raoul woke in the morning, Christine was gone.

Erik tried dutifully to be polite and thankful. He was out of his element entirely when it came to the dynamics of a real home. Marie seemed to run a boarding house of sorts, and there were four other people staying in her home at the same time as him. At dinner, he stole glances at a few of his current housemates. Most of them were young women, but one was another man, possibly his same age. He seemed to be rather attached to one of the young ladies, and he figured that they were probably related somehow. At least, that's what Erik hoped.

He didn't want to make Josephine angry.

Dinner that first night was enormous. Erik had never seen so much food prepared for only six people. He ate until his stomach ached, and he casually slipped a few rolls into his pocket for later. Everyone else who arrived for the meal gave him looks of distrust, but none of them asked him anything. He was grateful to not have to speak except when Marie asked him if he wanted more bread.

After dinner, Erik thanked Marie for the meal and went back up to his room. He intended to make full use of the darkness and get some sleep. This time he slept on the bed, and he kept his mask firmly in place. He didn't want to be caught by surprise again.

The bed was a luxury he had missed terribly. At first, the softness of the mattress and blankets hurt his bones, which were used to rocks and concrete. As he tossed and turned, however, he managed to wedge himself into a good spot where only his head hurt, but he had been aware of the headache for far longer than he'd been trying to fall asleep. He was able to ignore it and soon he found himself dreaming of the opera, of watching in the wings as Christine danced and sang.

Christine crept out of their bed while Raoul still slept. She stood before her vanity for a moment, brushing her hair and fixing her dressing gown so that it covered her properly, and then she hurried out of the room, listening to Raoul snore as he shifted positions. She hoped he wouldn't be too upset when he found her gone in the morning. She draped a light green cloak over her shoulders to hide the fact that she didn't feel up to putting on proper clothing.

Once she was out the door, it was just a matter of climbing into a carriage and handing the coachman a slip of paper detailing where she wanted to go. It was a simple request, one she had made countless times before. She wished to go to the cemetery. She needed to mourn for her angel and for her father.