And now...

Chapter 23: The Betrayal

-5 years ago:-

The Opera Populaire was alive with activity. Cast and crew sprinted down its narrow halls carrying props, set pieces, and the bustles of their skirts as they dashed to where they needed to be 5 minutes ago. Christine welcomed the sound of organized chaos as she entered the back door. Her father shuffled in after her, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Nervous?" He asked as they walked down the bustling halls.

Christine giggled, stepping aside for a man carrying a paper-mache moon. "I'm not nervous. Are you nervous?"

Gustave dramatically shook and trembled, earning another giggle from his daughter. "Absolutely terrified." He joked, pulling his daughter into a side hug as they walked.

Christine was rarely nervous before a performance. She only felt the butterflies the moment before she entered on stage, but it always faded quickly once she felt the lights on her. She was born to be on that stage, as there, she felt the most alive. Now she was buzzing with excitement. After months of strenuous training, it was finally time to perform. Her body was sore from Madame Giry's intensive rehearsals, but her aches faded away with her enthusiasm.

Christine gave her father a quick peck on the cheek and ran to the changing room. There, all of the ballerinas were hustling to get ready.

As she entered, she saw the large mirror that her Angel used to speak through during their lessons. Her heart seized. She had waited for him to guide her, telling her to join the opera instead of the ballet. But he never came. A part of her didn't want to admit that she needed him. She was 13 now and capable of making her own decisions. Yet, how she wished she had chosen to sing…

"Christine! Come back to the land of the living for just a moment, please!" La Sorelli growled.

Christine blinked. "Pardon?"

"Do. You. Need. This?" Sorelli gestured to the powder in her hand. Christine shook her head. She had no idea how to use makeup, something she was quite ashamed of. Although Meg was kind to her, Christine definitely felt distanced from the other women. They talked of things she was completely clueless about. Sorelli was the newly appointed prima ballerina, a young woman three years older than her and Meg. She did her best to educate Christine on 'the ways of a woman', but Christine always left those conversations uncomfortable and bright red. She was certain Sorelli only talked to her to watch her naivety crumble.

Christine quickly changed, gossiping with her friends as she prepared for the show. Madame Giry arrived later than usual and was quick to have them rehearse. They ran through a few of the acts before all taking their places. Usually, the ballet entered together. For this performance, however, a core of ballerinas began on the stage and others entered one by one for the opening act. Christine hid behind the curtains alone, waiting for her cue to enter.

"Chrriiiistiiine."

Her breath hitched. At first, she didn't believe it. That voice...that familiar voice. All of her senses were high tuned, waiting for some signal. Was that him? After two years away, had he finally returned?

"Angel of music…" Her voice was nearly a whisper. She tried to find the perfect pitch to be heard by him, but not by the crowd or crew.

"My angel of music..."

Her hand covered her mouth in delight. It was him! Her angel had returned. She moved away from the curtain, searching high above for him. He had come back to her, after all these years!

"Christine..."

"Christine!"

Christine looked down, her cheeks burning crimson. Raoul de Chagny raced towards her. A part of her was thrilled to see him, but a part of her was horrified. She only had a few minutes before she had to go on the stage. There was so much she needed to say to her angel and as much as it thrilled her to see Raoul, she desperately needed him to leave.

"Raoul? What are you doing here? You should be in your seat!"

"Don't be absurd. The only aspect of this performance I am interested in is you."

Christine wished she had accepted la Sorelli's offer on the makeup, maybe then her cheeks would not burn so brightly. Raoul grasped her hands, a boyish grin forming brightly on his face. "I came to wish you well. I know how nervous you become before a performance. This way you are not alone."

"I am never alone Raoul. I have my angel with me." She smiled, gazing up at the rafters, searching for a bright light that could be him. She had never seen him before, but she always dreamed that he would one day appear as an ethereal being.

"You are an angel, Christine. The most beautiful angel I have ever seen."

Christine had always believed her mind was detached from her body, like it was floating in the clouds above her. Though she listened to Raoul, her eyes were searching for her angel and her ears listening to the music behind her for her cue. Yet when Raoul whispered those sweet words, her complete attention became grounded and focused on him. She lost herself in his big blue eyes, the wavy golden locks of his hair. He thought she was an angel? Had he not seen himself? As his face drew closer to her own, she was certain her heart stopped beating.

When his lips touched hers, she gasped. His lips were soft like a feather, but electrifying nonetheless. Back into the clouds her mind went, numb and ecstatic all at once. This was her first kiss, something she had only heard about in books and in crude jokes. It was magical, exhilarating, and almost tingly. She felt her self learn forward, wanting more, but just as quickly as his lips touched hers, he pulled away. Christine noticed the pink in his cheeks and the large smile that erupted on his face. She couldn't help but smile as well. Her first kiss. What a wonderful thing to be loved by someone else.

Before she had time to process their kiss, he giggled and dashed away. "Don't miss your cue!" He waved as he rounded the corner. She almost called out for him, but heard her father's violin, her cue to enter. Instead she giggled, spinning in delight as she made her way out to the stage.

Her first kiss. The return of her angel. Today would be the best day of her life, she just knew it would be!

Christine barely remembered the performance, only the surge of energy and delight that fueled her. She leapt higher than usual, span more gracefully, smiled more brightly. Her angel had finally returned! After two years apart, her best friend had returned to her. Then there was that kiss…

Just to think of it made her want to giggle, but she maintained her composure. After the performance, she and the rest of the ballerinas bowed to the applauding crowd. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a certain blonde boy stand and cheer for her.

"You seem to have an admirer." Meg chuckled under her breath.

It took everything she had not to blurt out all that had happened back stage. She wanted to yell in delight that her angel had returned to her and bashfully whisper that Raoul de Chagny had kissed her. Instead she squeezed her friends hand, flashing a knowing smile before waiting for the curtain to drop. Usually, Madame Giry would retrieve them immediately, but she was nowhere to be found. Christine leapt at the opportunity. She sprinted past the cast and crew, dodging moving props and celebrating dancers. She dashed into la Sorelli's changing room, locking the door behind her.

"Angel of Music!" She sang. She ran to the mirror a large grin on her face.

"Christine." A voice from the heavens poured into her ears, his tone dark and foreboding. Her smile dropped. It was her angel, no doubt of that, but something was wrong.

Something was terribly wrong.

Gustave Daaé had finished cleaning his violin, gently placing it in his worn case. Who would have thought that a piece of carved wood and some strings would become such a beauty. His fingers gently caressed the violin. He owed everything to it. His sanity, his job, his livelihood. Internally he sighed at himself. He was just a sentimental old fool. With a quick click, he snapped the case closed and stood, leaving the orchestra pit. As he entered the side door to the back stage, he heard someone call his name.

"Madame Giry?" He questioned, turning to face the flustered ballet instructor. Something about her wasn't right. She hobbled forwards to him, her cane missing. Her eyes were wide and a dull red mark had formed on her cheek. She gripped onto him like a lifeline.

"Where is Christine? Have you seen her? Monsieur please!" She rasped.

"Antoinette!" Gustave anxiously interrupted. "I haven't seen her. Is everything alright? What happened to you?"

Her face grew pale. "We need to find her. We need to find her now!"

Gustave dropped his violin, his heart ceasing to beat. "What's wrong?"

Madame Giry began to stumble forward as if she didn't hear him. "The changing room! She must be there!"

Gustave didn't hesitate. He dashed forward, muttering out small apologies as he toppled over all in his way. He called out for his daughter, but she did not respond.

"Christine!"

No. No. NO! Whatever it was, whatever had happened, he knew she was in grave danger. He had seen Madame Giry defend herself against giants, both physically and within the industry. She was tougher than steel and more composed than a marble statue. No amount of force could knock one of her hairs out of place. But whatever this was, it had absolutely crumbled her.

He reached the door, twisting the handle forcefully. It was locked. He slammed on the door. "Christine! Christine, open the door!"

"Angel! Angel, no! Please stop!"

"You naive child! You traitor!"

There were two voices. The first belonged to his daughter, but the other was unknown. His stomach flipped. That was a man's voice. Who the hell was in there with her? He was not oblivious to the disgusting men that worked in the opera house, nor their wandering hands. Gustave didn't waste any time. He stepped back, dashing forward while driving his shoulder into the door.

God help whoever was on the other side of that door. Nothing would take the only thing he had away from him.

"Vixen! Lying Delilah! You abandoned music! Why? ANSWER ME."

Christine had collapsed on the ground, tears staining her cheeks. Her hands were clasped together as she prayed for this nightmare to be over.

"Angel! Angel, no. Please stop!"

"You naive child! You traitor!"

"No! No it wasn't like that." Christine cried. "I love music and I still want to sing but I had to choose between the ballet or the opera."

"I wonder what tempted you away from the opera. Was it that arrogant fop who swayed you?"

Arrogant fop? Did he mean Raoul? Christine felt her stomach drop. He knew. How could she be so naive? He was an all knowing angel, of course he knew! She thought back to their promise, how sincere his voice sounded when he begged her to never abandon music. Now here she was, facing the consequences of her actions. Never had she felt so sick to her stomach.

"He is my friend. If-if I had done the Opera he wouldn't have seen my performance. He wanted me to do the ballet so he could see me-"

"You based your decision on the opinions of that boy."

"No, I mean, yes but that isn't all-"

"If he is the source of your infidelity then maybe I should rid of him! Maybe then you'll be capable of keeping a promise!"

Christine cried and clasped her hands together. "No, angel please! Please forgive me!"

"You promised me! I trusted you! You betrayed me!"

"I was just misguided! I was lonely, angel! Please I missed you-"

"That is not what I see! You seemed quite smitten with your new lover."

Her cheeks burned at his accusation. Lover? Had he seen that kiss? It was just one kiss, a chaste brushing of lips if anything. As magical as it felt, she didn't see him as her lover. Why was this all going so wrong?

"Why didn't you come and tell me to sing? Why didn't you guide me?"

"I didn't realize you were incapable of making your own decisions. Is that what you want, Christine? Someone to tell you what to do? Then I must congratulate you on your lust for that insolent boy! He will be perfect for you!"

"It's not like that! No, it was just a mistake-"

"Returning to you was a mistake. A mistake I will never make again."

Her heart dropped. It was like a black hole had formed in her stomach, sucking out all emotion except for one: terror. "No! Angel stop! Please!"

"If you want to change who you are for some boy's affections, then I want nothing to do with you! You were perfect, do you not understand? Perfect! The only perfect being in this world and you allowed him to stain you without regard! No, you do not deserve to be an angel, much less an angel of music. Music you abandoned! So long, Christine Daaé. Enjoy your life in HELL!"

Christine screamed, her hands raising up to block her eyes. The mirror in front of her shattered, shards of glass flying everywhere. She turned, landing on her stomach as its destruction splattered around her.

"ANGEL!" She screamed, ignoring the sting of glass that cut at her back and arms. A large bang caused her to scream again as the door to the changing room flew off its hinges, landing a few feet away from her.

Christine barely felt her father pull him into his arms. She barely heard him call her name or ask where her attacker was. Her angel's screams drowned out all noises around her. She couldn't even feel the sting of glass in her skin.

Vixen! Lying Delilah! Betrayer!

"Christine, what have you done?" Her father asked, his eyes wide as he stared at the shattered mirror. Behind it was a stone wall, one that seemed to protrude from the frame itself. It confused Gustave, causing him to furrow his brow.

Christine stared at him, looking at the terrified look on his face. Her sobs grew louder. Did he know? Did he know that she had betrayed the angel he had sent her? Would he ever forgive her for throwing away such a gift?

She pushed herself away from him, sprinting down the corridors to the roof. She needed to stop him. Her only true friend. Her angel of music.

Wake up.

She sprinted to the only other place she could think he would be: high above near the clouds of heaven. She nearly kicked the door down to the roof, screaming his name into the evening air. But no matter how much she cried or screamed, he would not come back.

Wake up, little song bird. He won't hurt you again. I promise... I'll never hurt you again.

-Present day:-

Christine woke with a start. Her eyes flew open as she slightly convulsed in her abrupt awakening. Meg leaned over her, her wide eyes glowing against the torchlight. She gripped onto her friend's arms.

"Christine. It's okay. You were having a nightmare." She gently cooed.

Not just a nightmare, Christine thought, but a memory. She was dreaming about the last time she heard from her angel before she found him in Persia. For so long that memory buried her in guilt, but now it felt different. She felt different. She used to believe the holy being she loved was destroyed by her betrayal to music. But he was just a man. He should have been more forgiving, more understanding. In fact, why on earth was he that furious?

Christine smiled weakly up at Meg, burying her confusion. "I'm fine. I promise."

Meg looked around, ensuring that everyone was asleep before pulling Christine up to a sitting position.

"You're not okay, Christine. You've been through so much in these past couple of days. Something would be wrong if you were alright with all of this."

Christine didn't say anything. Instead she moved back, wrapping her arms around her bent knees. Meg stubbornly slid closer to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "You know you can talk to me." She whispered

Christine rubbed her eyes. "I don't really know how I am feeling. Everything is just a blur."

Meg nodded. The two of them sat next to each other, leaning against the cold back wall of the dungeon. There were many nights they had sat like this on the roof of the Populaire. It was the only place they could be truly alone, out there in the fresh air. They would talk about things she had never talked about with anyone. Not Christine's father, not Meg's mother, not Mama Valerius. Not even her angel. They both had similar experiences. Both had one parent, never knowing the other. Both were young women living in the mad house of an opera. Both had musical role models they strived to follow.

"I feel like this is a dream." Meg mumbled aloud. "I keep pinching myself but I haven't awoken yet."

Christine smiled. "If this is your dream, you have terrible dreams."

Meg quietly chuckled. "You didn't enjoy being trapped in a cage in the desert? I thought it added dramatic flair."

"Wasn't my cup of tea."

"I think you just have high standards." Meg joked. They leaned their heads closer, resting against each other. For a short while, they sat in silence. Meg had a way of making things better, something Christine couldn't entirely describe. It was almost as if her spirit could never be broken, always shining brightly to encourage her. Christine exhaled, enjoying the comforting silence. With a wry grin, she finally spoke.

"I've slept in worse."

Meg snorted. "That's not something to brag about."

"I'm trying to be positive. When my father and I struggled to survive for those few years, we used to spend every night talking about all the good things we had experienced and what we were grateful for. It made the horrors we had to go through seem...manageable."

Meg thought about her friend's words. "I'm grateful we are all together."

Christine nodded. "I'm grateful we have a chance to fight."

"I'm grateful we had that meal. I don't know how much of a fight I'd be able to give without some food."

"We will also be able to make props and costumes now. Even Ignacio will be given a violin. It will be like an actual performance."

"And with you at the helm, we will be unstoppable."

Christine gave a doubtful chuckle. "I don't know about that."

"I do." Meg beamed. "You have an incredible talent, Christine. It is a shame we had to go through this much for you to use it again. But in a way, I am glad we came this far."

Christine closed her eyes. She muttered a thank you, unsure of what else to say. She never took compliments well, but couldn't help feeling joy swell her heart.

"Because, I'll be honest, I'm happy you found your angel again."

Christine didn't say anything at first. She turned to face her friend, who smiled at her with tears in her eyes. "I regret the day I yelled at you in the chapel, when your father died. It didn't matter if your angel was the Phantom or not, he was important to you. I should have seen that and seen how hurt you were. I was just angry that you kept that secret and never told me. I guess I was even jealous you had a closer friend than me. I'm so sorry for what I said, but I am so happy you found him again. I…"

She trailed off, turning to face Christine more directly. "As much as he scares me, I think you're right. I think he does want to help you. And now, I can see that you care for him too."

Christine didn't know what to say. Meg was right, she did care about him. Though she shuddered when she saw his shadowed frame creeping over her and her friends, once she met those eyes she couldn't help but feel warm inside. "I do." She admitted. "I can't really describe it, but it is almost like he never left. He is still my friend. I just... I just wish I knew why he left."

"You have to talk to him. He owes you an explanation, for everything."

"I know."

"You know what I think." Meg teased, squeezing her closer. "I think he cares about you too. A lot."

Christine's cheeks burned. She didn't like her playful tone, though she couldn't ignore the butterflies that began to swarm in her stomach. Did he care about her? Or better yet, did he care about her like that? "We-We are good friends."

Why did she stammer? Her blundering defense only made Christine's cheeks burn more. She buried her face in between her knees, causing Meg to giggle. They were silent for a little longer until Meg suggested they go back to bed.

"Meg." Christine whispered as they laid back down. There was a constant underlying fear that nagged the back of her mind. Christine tried to swallow it down, but she couldn't. She couldn't sleep without voicing it. "What if I'm not strong enough to face the Shah?" Her voice was a ghostly whisper, one that seemed to ring around the dungeon. Christine had fought so hard to be brave for what felt like so long. What if she didn't have the stamina to keep it up for the performance?

Meg hushed her gently. "You are, Christine. Even if you falter, have no fear. You have your friends behind you and now, you have your angel behind you too."

Christine's lower lip trembled. She wrapped her arms around her dear friend. She was right. That night she had dreamed about was long gone. Now she had a new nightmare to face.

"You need him. And now, he is here. It's time to show the world what you're capable of."

Christine smiled, closing her eyes. Unlike her nightmare, Christine now had the supported of those she cared about. She took a deep breath, hardening her resolve. Whoever this Shah was, she hoped he was prepared. She would give him the performance of a lifetime.

The two girls were fast asleep in minutes, both of them calm and relaxed. They both fell into such a deep slumber they didn't notice the shadow that moved from the corner. A shadow that had been listening quite intently.

Hope the betrayal wasn't too bad... Next chapter will be a little steamy, just prepare yourself! I won't have time to respond to your reviews this time, but thank you SO much for them! They make my day and really motivate me. Thanks!