Raoul took no notice of her glare or her tone, instead rushing up to her and throwing his arms around her.

"Christine, oh, Christine," he murmured as he pressed a kiss to her cheek. "I was so worried about you!"

She simply glared straight ahead at the carriage and refused to return his hug or his kisses, though he hardly seemed to notice.

"Where have you been, Little Lotte? Here, come into the carriage with me."

"I don't want to get in the carriage, Raoul!" she wiggled out of his embrace, and he looked confused.

"Why did you report me missing?" she demanded.

"Because you were missing," he said simply.

She sighed heavily.

"No, Raoul - I wasn't missing, you simply didn't know where I was."

"Come to the carriage," he grasped her hand and tugged.

"What are you even doing here?" she asked, eventually relenting and letting him lead her to the carriage.

"It was supposed to be a surprise," he said, embarrassed.

He climbed into the carriage and tried to pull her up along with him. She resisted at first, but could tell he wasn't going to give up. She gave one last glance backwards, to the alley she had come from. She still had three hours, she told herself as she climbed in.

She was surprised to find Meg inside as well, and found she was wearing an expression of what could rightly be called anguish.

I'm so sorry, Meg mouthed when Raoul wasn't looking, but Christine shook her head.

Raoul leaned out the window to speak to the footman.

"Take us back to the mansion," he told him.

"Raoul!" Christine shot up. "Raoul, no! I'm not going that far! I don't want to! I thought we were only going to talk!"

Raoul was about to answer her when he saw the vendor was trying to chase down the carriage and shouting at them. He glanced at the paper still being clutched by Christine and he reached into his pocket for a few coins, which he dropped out the window.

"I'm sorry!" he shouted to the vendor, who shook his fist at them and let loose a few curses but still stooped to pick up his payment.

Raoul sat back down, feeling awkward about what he'd just done.

Christine sat next to him, the swaying of the carriage becoming too much to continue standing in, and she tugged on his sleeve.

"Stop the carriage - I'm not going to the mansion."

He frowned.

"Can we at least talk in here? It's far more private."

"We can talk but I'm not going to the mansion. There's somewhere else I need to be."

"Where?" he pleaded. "Are you alright? Where have you been?"

She was quiet a moment.

"Where I was is none of your business, I should think."

Meg shifted awkwardly.

"But are you alright? Why must you hurry off so quickly? Is something wrong?"

All manner of terrible scenarios played out in his mind - she truly had been kidnapped or blackmailed, perhaps someone was still after her. He should have brought his pistol!

"I'm fine, Raoul, but please - I truly can't stay very long," she fidgeted uneasily. "There are places I need to be."

"What places?" Raoul was confused by it all - where was she off to that was such a secret?

"Raoul, don't pry!" she snapped, and instantly regretted it.

He sunk down a little, eyes downcast.

"Forgive me, Christine - I don't know what I did wrong. I only wished to be certain you were okay."

Christine groaned into her hand. The carriage was drawing them steadily further and further away from the opera house, and it made her nervous. When were they going to stop like she had asked? If they went all the way to the de Chagny mansion, they'd have to turn around immediately to even hope to get back in time for her to be in place to meet Erik when she'd promised. And she had wanted to see a few of the other performers in that time, to put to rest any stories about the ghost.

"I'm sorry, Raoul," she folded up the paper and tucked it into her pocket. "I'm just surprised to learn of my own apparent disappearance in the papers, you know."

He stared at her with pleading eyes, but kept silent.

"I was entirely fine, Raoul," she said gently. "Whatever gave you the idea that I wasn't?"

She shot a glance at Meg, who shrugged helplessly.

"Well, you didn't come to your room the other night," he looked a little ashamed. "And a bunch of the other girls said they hadn't seen you since rehearsal, which was days ago. And it seemed that you hadn't told anyone where you had gone, and- and I was worried for you."

She sighed as she sank back into the seat. He only cared about her, she knew. He had no ill intentions.

"Sometimes," she said carefully. "Sometimes I like to go places all on my own, just to get away from everything. I don't typically tell anyone because I like it being something that's just mine..."

She bit her lip.

"I would have told you I was going to be gone for a little bit, Raoul, if I had known you were coming. Or I would have postponed my outing. I didn't mean to worry you, but there was absolutely nothing to be worried over."

He nodded, understanding, and reached a hand out to take hers. He brushed his thumb over her knuckles and she smiled weakly. She was still thinking of Erik.

"But what about you? What are you doing back here in Paris?"

He grinned.

"That's the surprise, Lottie - I'm back for quite a while now. I received the opportunity to finish most of my training in France."

"Oh, Raoul, that's wonderful!"

"I only wish I had been able to tell you under better circumstances," he chuckled, and brought her hand up closer to his face. He stooped a little and pressed a kiss to the top of her hand.

Christine flashed a wry smile to Meg, who gave her a nod and a little thumbs up.

"I'm happy to hear it, but - we are going quite far, are we not? I wanted to be dropped off near the opera house, you know."

A look of disappointment came across his face.

"I've missed you so, Christine. Can I not have a little time with you?"

She looked over at Meg, who was frowning now.

"I missed you, too, but-" she fretted about it in her mind. Could they truly make the trip there and back in time? "But I really only have a little time to spare today, and I really do have to be getting back."

He nodded.

"Okay. Can we- can we see Philippe first, though? He's been worried about you, too."

"Has he?" she wrinkled her nose.

"Just a quick trip, Lottie - there and back. Is that okay?"

She nodded reluctantly. Surely she could be a few minutes late for Erik, and besides, there should still be enough time if they only spent a few minutes seeing Philippe. There and back, that was all. It could still work.

Wanting to turn the subject from herself and what she'd been doing the past days, Christine began to ask him questions about how his training had been going. Meg, who had never had a chance to talk with him much, was very impressed, and began to ask questions as well, and he ended up spending much of the trip to the mansion telling stories to his rapt audience.

Christine felt her nerves buzzing as they approached the de Chagny mansion. The house loomed up over them in a way that seemed almost sinister. Meg stared with wide eyes - she had never been there before.

There and back, Christine told herself. There and back. It was going to be fine. Everything was going to be fine.

Meg stared awestruck up at the mansion as they got out of the carriage. She turned to Christine, incredulous. To think that she had been coming here all these times! How normal she acted, how nonchalant in the face of such splendor! Meg was suddenly aware of every little movement of hers, of how vastly different her station was from Raoul's.

The Comte strode down the walkway, greeting them.

"I've found her!" Raoul exclaimed, and Christine stifled the urge to say she hadn't been found because she hadn't been lost in the first place.

"Christine! How are you, dear? You had us quite worried," Philippe patted her on the shoulder.

"I'm quite fine, Philippe, thank you," she was a little surprised at the apparent kindness he was showing.

Meg couldn't help the breath she sucked in. Imagine being on first name terms with a Comte!

"You should join us for dinner, Christine," Philippe offered. "You and your friend here, er-"

"Oh, this is Meg," Christine introduced her, and Meg gave a little curtsy, her cheeks going pink.

She had seen Philippe before, for brief moments, usually when he was on his way to Sorelli's dressing room.

"You can both stay for dinner," he nodded.

His brother had been quite distraught over the concept of losing Christine somehow, and Philippe had become agitated at his constant moping. He thought perhaps the gracious offer of letting her attend a dinner with them would cheer him and show that there were no hard feelings between them about her. He had worried for her, just a little - if for no other reason than how upset it was making Raoul, but he was not without fond feelings for the girl as well - he had, after all, known her for just as long as Raoul had, even if he didn't know her as well. She wasn't marriage material for his little brother, but good heavens - that didn't mean she had to disappear.

Christine and Raoul spoke up at the same time.

"I actually need to be heading back now-"

"She can't stay, Philippe, I was going to take her back-"

"Nonsense," Philippe waved a hand dismissively. "You're staying for dinner."

Christine turned to the footman with the carriage and made her appeal.

"I can't, actually. Monsieur, could you please return me to the opera house?"

The footman looked to Philippe for confirmation.

"Put the horses in the stable," he placed his arm around Christine's shoulders and guided her towards the mansion.

Perhaps he meant for the gesture to be comforting, but she only found it disrespectful.

Meg and Raoul exchanged a glance and both followed helplessly behind.

Christine looked behind with dismay as the footman was leading the horses to the stables. All she had wanted of this day was to read a book by the fire, eat a nice dinner with Erik, and relax. Why was it that this was the third time she was being led away from that by someone who thought they knew what she needed better than she did? She huffed. Was it any wonder that she simply wanted to hide underground for a while?

They entered the mansion and Philippe left them with the promise of seeing them again in the dining room. Raoul followed quickly after him.

He caught up to him in the kitchen, where Philippe was instructing the servants to prepare two extra settings for dinner.

"Philippe," Raoul hesitated. "Christine has a previous engagement, she really has to leave right now to make it on time."

He hated to bring it up, because not only did he want to have dinner with Christine, it was an unheard of event for Philippe to be the one to invite her. But he had promised her that if she let him bring her to the mansion, he'd take her right back, and he didn't want to break his promise.

Philippe shrugged as he poured himself some gin.

"She can cancel it. I'm sure it's not important."

He took a swig of the liquor.

"Or if it is, is it really more important than dinner with you?"

Raoul looked down at the floor and frowned. She probably did have things in her life more important than him, but he didn't want to think about that.

Philippe smiled a little. He knew what buttons to press with Raoul. He gulped down the rest of his drink and winced.

"Let your friends stay for dinner, Raoul. It's not every day I offer that."

Raoul nodded. He had tried, after all. If Philippe was insisting they stay, it wasn't really his own fault that he didn't take her back to the opera house - but he felt a little guilty all the same.

Philippe breathed a secret sigh of relief. It had been a stressful few days with him in such a state, looking everywhere for the girl, raising such a fuss in all the papers. He'd barely seen his brother since he had returned, was it crime to want to just sit down at a meal with him? If he had to invite not one but two chorus girls to dinner in order to do so, well, that's what he'd do.

Still, he wasn't quite sure it felt like a win - was the presence of that Meg girl a step in the right direction for Raoul, or was it the signal of yet another opera girl he was going to think he'd fallen in love with?

"What, ah, what is Meg to you?"

Raoul shook his head a little.

"She's one of Christine's friends."

Philippe chuckled as he poured himself another drink.

"It's good to see you with another girl besides Christine, even if she is from the opera as well. You really should be going out with other girls, see what else is out there. If they all happen to be from the opera, well, there's no real harm in that."

Raoul was about to protest when Philippe suddenly reached over and tousled his brother's hair

"Just keep your hands off Sorelli," he remarked as he left the kitchen, not seeing the vaguely horrified look on Raoul's face.

Christine led Meg into one of the drawing rooms where they could talk privately.

"Oh, Christine - I really did try my best!" she wrung her hands. "I said just what you told me to say, I didn't know he was going to go to the newspapers!"

"It's alright," Christine assured her. "I'm not mad at you. I don't think any of us could have seen this coming."

She glanced up at the clock on the wall and bit her lip. Meg followed her line of sight.

"Christine, what's wrong?"

"Oh, he's waiting for me, Meg," she moaned. "In an hour and half he's going to be expecting me back and I won't be there."

Meg's brow furrowed.

"Surely he'll understand?"

Christine shook her head, tears forming in her eyes.

"I don't think he will," she said sadly. "I promised him, you see. He- he won't take it very well, I'm afraid."

"Is he going to be angry with you?" she asked in a hushed voice.

"No... no, not angry. Just... Oh, Meg - he's going to be devastated," she dismayed.

Meg didn't hesitate.

"Do you want me to take a message to him? Maybe Philippe will let me go even if he won't let you."

She was dearly looking forward to dinner at the Comte's, but she couldn't stand to see her friend so sad.

But she shook her head.

"You're sweet to offer, but I don't think that would work."

Even if Philippe did let her leave, she couldn't very well go to Christine's mirror and speak to Erik behind it. Even just leaving a note in her dressing room might draw suspicions from her - and although Christine trusted Meg enough to do so, she knew Erik would be highly unsettled at the thought of it.

Meg hugged her.

"He'll just have to understand, eventually."

Christine could only hope she was right.

Raoul stopped in the doorway, afraid he was interrupting something.

"Ah, there you two are. Dinner is ready."

Christine rubbed at her eyes as the two girls made their way down a hallway with Raoul.

"I'm sorry, Lottie," he whispered as they went. "I truly didn't know he was going to make you stay. I told him you had someplace else to be, but-"

She shook her head.

"Let's just get dinner over with, please?"

The food was very fine, but she found she missed Erik's cooking. He didn't have access to as many fresh ingredients or as high of quality products that the Comte had, but she enjoyed the unusual flavors he'd use and how each strange recipe she'd never heard of before had a story behind it.

Despite her worry for Christine and her teacher, Meg enjoyed herself at the dinner. She'd never eaten such fine foods or been served like she was royalty - she found she was going to be sorely disappointed when she had to go back to her normal life. It felt like being a princess.

Raoul tried to let his guilt fade away as dinner progressed, and mostly succeeded. It wasn't every day that Philippe was so easygoing about having Christine there, and he tried to enjoy it even if he knew Christine was disappointed that she couldn't do whatever it was she had been planning for that evening.

"John, bring us some wine, would you?" Philippe addressed one of the servants. "I'm sure you'll be wanting some, Christine, after your ordeal."

"Oh - there was no ordeal, just a misunderstanding," she glanced at Raoul, but didn't refuse the wine that was placed next to her, taking a long drink of it.

Meg dipped at her wine slowly, wanting to drink it all - who knew when she'd have a chance to drink such an expensive vintage again? - but also not wanting it turn her head. She already felt giddy enough just surrounded by so much wealth. She could barely believe that Christine hadn't attempted to encourage Raoul's attempts at wooing her - was she really going to pass up a chance to live in a house like this every day? It was a wonder she hadn't been more eager to try to coax a marriage proposal from him!

Towards the end of the meal, Christine began to relax a little. Perhaps it was the two glasses of wine, perhaps it was Meg's insistance that Erik would understand, perhaps it was the fact that there was nothing at all she could do about it. Surely Erik would have to understand - she'd explain it all to him, and he would accept it, and everything would be fine. It wasn't like she had abandoned him! She had practically been kidnapped by the Vicomte, not to mention the Comte! She gave a little giggle at the thought of how horrified Erik had been at the ridiculous concept of accidentally kidnapping her, of how he had insisted she go above only for Raoul to swoop in and carry her off just like Erik had feared he'd done himself.

She stifled the giggle before it got too loud - perhaps she shouldn't have had that second glass of wine. She barely ever drank, and on the rare occasion that Erik gave her wine with her food, he was always careful to not pour more than half a glass for her. He fretted about her voice as he did so, but she now realized perhaps he also hadn't wanted her to become tipsy, either.

She sighed. Erik. Was he still waiting for her? Had their dinner gotten burnt because he was behind the mirror so long? She hoped he wasn't too disheartened by the whole situation.

Dinner ended and Philippe called for the carriage to be prepared. Polite goodbyes were issued, and the girls went out to the porch to wait.

"Going for a private farewell, eh?" Philippe asked Raoul when he saw him about to follow the girls outside.

Raoul frowned a little as he watched them carefully pick out the cobblestone path in the moonlight. Meg's footing slipped and gave a little shriek as she nearly fell, but Christine pulled her back up. The two girls clung to each other, trying to keep their laughter quiet.

"I think I better go with them," he said. "To make sure they get back okay."

Philippe nodded, a little disappointed.

"We'll go riding, tomorrow?" he asked hopefully.

"Of course. I'd like that," Raoul smiled.

The cool evening air made Meg's face tingle. That wine had been a little stronger than she used to. She nearly jumped when the Vicomte appeared at her right side.

"Might I have the honor of escorting you ladies to your residence?"

Christine rolled her eyes at his formality, and Meg stifled a snort.

"Of course you may, Monsieur," Meg managed.

He helped them into the carriage with little difficulty - he had had a few glasses of wine himself, but was less affected since he was more used to taking wine at meals than either of them.

The ride back felt longer, in part due to the darkness outside and how tired they felt. They talked a little while, but soon fell into an easy silence.

Raoul dozed a little here and there, finally at peace now that he knew Christine was well. Meg had fallen fast asleep, her head resting on Christine's shoulder.

Christine stared out at the stars and the moon, wistful. Sometimes, when the lighting hit them just right, Erik's eyes seemed to glow just like those stars up above. Surely he was fine - he had to be fine.

The carriage stopped in front of the opera house and Christine shook Meg awake. Ever the gentleman, Raoul escorted them to the hallway that led to the girls dormitories. They said their farewells, and Raoul promised to see Christine again soon.

She hugged Meg goodnight, thanking her both for trying to help minimize the damage done by Raoul and also for not letting a single word about Erik slip.

Meg went to sleep with visions of the mansion and all the lovely food and decor and drinks dancing her head, a smile on her lips.

Christine sat on the edge of her bed and pulled the folded up newspaper out of her pocket, looking at it sadly. The shame of it was that Erik had so badly wanted her dispel the rumor of the ghost when he had sent her above, but she still hadn't been seen any performers and wouldn't until the next day - no different than if she had stayed the evening with Erik. Raoul wasn't even supposed to be there. She was happy that he'd be there more often now, but she couldn't help feeling annoyed that he couldn't have waited just another day or so.

Poor Erik. She thought briefly of going to her dressing room just in case he was still there, but surely he had gone by now - it had been hours since she was supposed to meet him.

The pleasant effects of the wine had worn off, leaving her feeling tired and a little sad - too tired to walk all the way to her dressing room, almost too tired to walk to her dresser and retrieve a nightgown. She changed as quick as she could, trying to push away the sinking feeling that Erik probably was very far from fine with how the evening had gone.

Her feet ached as she slipped under the sheets, her thoughts becoming muddled as she drifted asleep and found herself in an odd dream that consisted of having dinner with both Raoul and Erik at the same time, both of them completely ignoring the other and only focused on her. It might have been an appealing situation, had their dinner table not been in the middle of the opera house's stage with bright lights shining down on them, electric lights like in Erik's home, and in the audience she could hear little coughs and shuffles that let her know it was a sold-out show. Erik offered her a strange pastry that was adorned with pomegranate seeds, and Raoul offered her a slice of an elaborate angel food cake, and she accepted both graciously, but once both desserts were on her plate, both of the men leaned forward a little, each eager to see which desert she'd eat first. She looked down the plate, suddenly aware that her choice was going to have far more ramifications and meaning than simply eating something offered to her. She looked up at the men, at the sly hope barely concealed in Erik's face, at the intense certainty on Raoul's, and then she looked down at herself, realizing she was wearing Carlotta's dress. She looked out at the audience but could see nothing more than blackness past the edge of the stage. Horrible awareness dawning on her, she reached up to feel her hair, which was in fact Carlotta's wig from the latest production, a tall thing covered in powder. She pulled a fork out from the wig, and both of her companions managed to scoot in closer, a bead of sweat rolling down Raoul's forehead while Erik swallowed hard. She stared at the fork she was clutching tightly and suddenly swiped her opposite forearm across her lips, a long red stain left in the wake of her mouth - Carlotta's signature red lipstick. She screamed.

Christine jerked awake, her heart pounding. She threw the sheets aside and dressed in a hurry, hoping to find a way to see Erik before she had to go to rehearsal, but when she looked at the clock her hopes were dashed - she'd be lucky to make it to rehearsal on time.

She fidgeted on stage all day, growing weary of fielding questions of where she'd been. All she wanted to do was see Erik.

"Were you really with the Ghost?" Doreen asked in a hushed voice.

Christine wrinkled her nose and frowned.

"What a stupid thing to ask," she replied.

Doreen looked slightly ashamed.

Christine stuck with the story that she had been off on an impromptu trip to spend some time alone to clear her mind and recharge her spirit. It was mostly believed. Nearly all talk of the Ghost was squashed, though one or two still whispered that perhaps she had been out with the mystery suitor from her birthday. She just rolled her eyes and laughed as though it was ridiculous.

Rehearsal finally ended, and she took her time in her dressing room as she changed behind the partition. When she felt enough time had passed for the other performers to have left, she quietly made her way up to Box Five and pressed her ear against the door. Erik had mentioned previously that he often watch the rehearsals from there and wrote his notes to managers.

She didn't think it was entirely her imagination to hear the scratch of a pen and a sigh.

"Erik?" she asked quietly.

Everything went deadly quiet.

"Erik, are you in there? It's just me... Can I come in?"

There was silence for so long that thought she must have been mistaken after all, but just as she was about to turn to leave, he spoke.

"Come in."