The semester began normally enough, though admittedly not without some anxiety on Christine's part. The long-awaited audition was finally upon her, and after that there would be a period of nervously waiting for the results, and after that, hopefully, would be the stress of rehearsals. Her class schedule wasn't quite as hectic as it had been the previous semester, and her new job at the library, while not exactly freeing up any of her time, at least promised a more consistent schedule. So she could make it through the semester even with the added pressure of rehearsals, she told herself. She was a little nervous about it, sure, but there was no use in making herself feel overwhelmed by something that she didn't know for sure was going to happen.

But then there was the matter of Raoul.

Christine had been anxious about seeing him when classes started. They had spoken on the phone, of course, but the conversations had been short and infrequent—not enough time to discuss anything of consequence, even if she had felt up to it. She didn't know if he was still angry with her for canceling their plans, though she knew she couldn't blame him if he was; what was perhaps even more worrying was that she didn't know if he planned to renew any discussion of marriage. She had realized with a jolt as she was waiting for him to pick her up for dinner that first night he was back in town that she had no idea where they stood. She didn't know if her actions had permanently altered the relationship, and she didn't know what she would say if Raoul brought up the subject of marriage again. She was just as conflicted as she had been right after they'd first talked about it, and she had no idea whether his thoughts on the matter had changed since then. He had sounded upbeat when they'd made plans for tonight, but it seemed to her that they had quite a few loose ends to tie up, and they hadn't left any of those subjects on a particularly positive note.

The dinner had ended up going fairly smoothly. Raoul had been happy to see her, and they kept their conversation light, just as they had over the phone. He didn't mention either subject, and she had been content enough to forget all of that for now and enjoy an otherwise pleasant evening. There was something underneath the pleasantness, though, and Christine was sure that Raoul must be aware of it too—just a little bit of strain, felt especially when they strayed a little too close to the subjects they were avoiding. Things weren't entirely uncomfortable, but there was a difference.

The first few days of the semester passed in a blur as she adjusted to her new classes, her new schedule, her new job. The one constant was her lessons and, Christine having determined to completely forget how she'd broken her promise to Erik, those proceeded just as they always had, much to her relief.

And then, all of a sudden, it was the day of the audition.

As she sat in the hall waiting for her turn, idly fiddling with her phone to keep her hands busy, she found that she wasn't nervous—not exactly. There were the usual nerves that came with the knowledge that in just a few minutes she'd be standing by herself and singing in front of a panel of people whose sole job it was to scrutinize her, but she was gratified to find that she felt prepared. She had worked hard, and she knew that she would honestly be able to say that she had put all that she could into this. That was as much as she could ask for, really; even if she wound up not being cast at all, at least she wouldn't be left wondering whether she could have done better if she'd put that last little bit of effort in. She had already determined not to let herself be too disappointed if she didn't get a role. That wasn't what was important about this—what was important was that she was trying again, that she was happy to be singing in a way that she hadn't been in years.

She hoped that Erik wouldn't be too disappointed if she didn't do as well as he wanted, but she dismissed the concern quickly. Erik had seen the work she had put into this audition and had been nothing but supportive the whole time. If she suddenly panicked and did poorly, of course he would be disappointed, but so far he had given her no reason to think that he would be disappointed with her.

Christine jumped a little when her phone buzzed, smiling when she found a message from the man she had just been thinking about. Erik's text was short and simple: You will be amazing. He didn't wish her luck or give any suggestion that this was just his opinion; he stated it as if it was a well-known fact, leaving her no room to question him. She sent him a quick reply just before her name was called and she was ushered into the room.

She went through the audition in an odd kind of haze. Her mind was too focused to leave any room for nerves. She sang her piece, and then it was over, and she was leaving the room with a rush of relief and satisfaction. Almost before she was aware of what she was doing, she was reaching for her phone and dialing. Erik picked up immediately.

"How did it go?"

"It went really well," Christine grinned. "I mean, I guess I don't know exactly how well it went just yet, but I feel good about it."

"Good. If you feel good about it, then I'm sure you were great. Besides, only a complete idiot wouldn't want to cast you."

She laughed. "Thanks for the vote of confidence. Hopefully their judgment is as good as yours."

"It's likely not, but anyone with any taste at all should be able to see your talent," Erik told her.

"It's nice having someone to call for an ego boost," she replied, making him chuckle.

"Believe me, Christine, I do not give praise when it is unearned."

Christine blushed a little. She certainly believed that. As supportive as Erik had always been, he hadn't coddled her. But that had always made his praise feel that much more rewarding, and the freeness of it now was more gratifying than anything anyone else could have said. "I hope I continue to live up to it, then," she said.

"You will."

There was a pause before Christine spoke again, unsure of what to say to such a compliment. "Well, I won't keep you any longer. I just thought you'd like to hear about how it went."

"And you'll let me know when you hear back?"

"If I get a callback, you'll be the first to know," she promised. "And Erik? I, um, wanted to thank you. There's no way I could have done this without you. All you help… it means a lot to me."

There was another pause and she hoped she hadn't made him uncomfortable. But then he spoke, his voice a little thicker than before, and she knew that he understood. "I am glad that I've been able to help you, Christine," he said softly. "It has meant a lot to me, too."

Christine smiled. "I'll see you tomorrow morning, then?"

"Of course. See you tomorrow."

The conversation left her with a warmth that stayed with her until just a few hours later when her phone rang and she was asked to return for a callback. True to her word, she immediately called Erik, who insisted that it was no surprise that she had been asked to return but congratulated her sincerely. The next day she arrived at their lesson to find him waiting for her with a cup of hot tea, saying that they would take it easy today so she would be ready for her callback that afternoon. They ran through everything quickly, focusing on a couple of bits that Christine felt less confident about, and then he was sending her on her way again, reaffirming that she was well-prepared and had nothing to worry about.

The couple of days that followed were even more agonizing than Christine had expected as she waited to hear about the final casting. Erik did his best to keep her from worrying too much, but it seemed that now she was making up for not having been anxious after the initial audition. She would catch herself staring at her phone instead of her assigned reading or checking it obsessively during pauses in choir rehearsal. Both Meg and Raoul were quick to reassure her that they were sure she had done great and would hear back soon, but it was Erik's assurances that really grounded her.

They were in the middle of a lesson several days after the callback when her phone rang. She glanced questioningly at Erik and he nodded for her to answer it. Her attention remained half-focused on him as she answered the phone; he was watching her intently as if searching her expression for an answer she didn't have yet. But then the casting director told her her part and she didn't hear a single word he said after that. Meeting Erik's eyes, she found them alight and excited, a smile forming on his lips that must have mirrored her own. She managed to remember to thank the casting director before hanging up, and for a moment she and Erik stood facing each other, just grinning.

"I'm Cunegonde," she finally managed, her amazement clear in her voice. "Erik, I got the part!"

"That's fantastic, Christine," he told her. "You deserve it."

A little more carefully than last time, Christine stepped forward to wrap her arms around him, giving him room to move away if he wanted to. But instead he stepped towards her, seeming to welcome the embrace, returning it cautiously but a little more securely than before. She leaned into him for just a moment before pulling away slightly, letting her hands linger on his arms.

"Thank you so much, Erik," she smiled. "For everything. This is amazing. I can't thank you enough."

"You're not giving yourself enough credit," Erik told her. "It's all your talent and hard work. I did very little."

"That's not true," she insisted. "You've done so much. You've made me really love music in a way that I haven't in years. You've given me so much more confidence and motivation than I've ever had, and you've been so patient and encouraging. Thank you."

Christine held his gaze as she made this speech; he needed to know that she meant what she said. Her breath caught a little as she found him looking back with unmistakable affection. She wanted to stay this close to him, convince him that he meant so much to her, keep trying to find the right words to express her gratitude and happiness. She wanted him to keep looking at her like he was looking at her now.

The thought jolted her back into awareness and she realized that they had probably been standing like this for too long. Giving him a small smile, she let her arms drop from his and took a small step back. She tried to push the little pang of disappointment to the very back of her mind.

"I'd like to propose a toast," Meg said grandly, holding up her wine glass. Christine rolled her eyes and turned her attention to Meg, who glanced between her and Raoul as she waited to begin her speech. "Not that long ago, sitting in this very restaurant, we knew we had a star on our hands. And now what we've known for a long time has finally been officially confirmed. I think at this point it's safe to say that we know Broadway's next big star, and years from now we'll be bragging about how we knew her when she got her first major role."

"How long is this toast going to be?" Christine asked teasingly, and Meg held up a finger to quiet her with mock seriousness.

"Excuse me, I will not be rushed, especially when it comes to congratulating my amazing best friend," she said.

"Sorry. Continue."

"As I was saying," Meg went on, "we'll be able to talk about how there's no one more deserving of stardom than Christine Daae, how immensely talented she is and how tirelessly she works. And as much as I love being one of only a few lucky people who know just how talented she is, I've very excited that more and more people will know soon. Congratulations on getting the part, Christine. We're so happy for you."

"Here, here," Raoul said, holding up his glass.

Christine laughed, clinking her glass against theirs. "You both are too much. This is only a college production. It's not like I won a Tony."

"Maybe not, but it's still really exciting," Meg said. "And you really wanted this and have worked so hard to achieve it. That deserves some celebration, don't you think?"

"It is a big accomplishment, Christine," Raoul told her. "Not that we ever doubted that you could do it, of course."

Christine smiled and looked away, a little embarrassed. "Well, thanks, guys. And thank you for bearing with me while I've been getting ready for this. Now you just have to keep bearing with me through rehearsals and performances."

"I'm prepared for the life of the friend of a Broadway star," Meg replied unconcernedly.

"You don't plan on continuing daily singing lessons through rehearsals, do you?" Raoul asked, his brow furrowed.

"Yes, absolutely," Christine said. "I'll need them more than ever leading up to performances. There's only so much rehearsal time; I'm sure I'll have plenty of work to do outside of that."

"But how will you have time for all of that, plus classes and your job?" And me, was the unspoken question that Christine heard.

"I'll just have to make it work," she said evenly. "My course load is a little lighter than last semester, at least, and the new job is a lot better about letting you schedule your own hours, so I'll be able to schedule around rehearsals. I'll be busy, but what choice do I really have?"

Raoul resumed eating his dinner without another word, suddenly intently focused on the plate in front of him, and Christine felt a stab of guilt. Last semester hadn't exactly been easy all the time—there had been plenty of times when they'd really had to make an effort to schedule time together, and what time they did have often ended up feeling inadequate and unsatisfactory. A big part of what had helped them stay determined to push through was the promise that things would get easier, that they would have more time to spend together, more chances to really connect. A couple of months of rehearsals didn't seem like much to work around on its own, but it was just one more frustration that they would have to deal with. But it would be fine, she told herself. The semester would be no worse than the last one, and they had been getting better at finding time to spend together when they could. They'd work it out.

Raoul was quick to hide any disappointment he felt, and after a minute the comfortable conversation resumed. The rest of the evening was pleasant, and by the time they left, any guilt or disappointment was far from Christine's mind. She wasn't sure it had completely sunk in yet that she had gotten the role—that soon she'd get to perform on stage, and not just as a part of the chorus. For years she had dreamt of doing just that, but it had seemed unlikely given her lack of training, and then the dream had been all but abandoned after she lost her father. She had been so close to giving it up entirely when Erik had come along and pushed her back toward her true passion, and now here she was actually making progress toward that goal. She almost couldn't believe her luck at how quickly things had turned around. As tiring and stressful as the process had been and would continue to be, she was excited.

Raoul drove Meg and her back to their apartment after dinner, and Meg discreetly slipped out of the car ahead of them, allowing them a moment alone. Giving Christine a smile, Raoul leaned over the console to pull her to him, kissing her gently.

"You know I'm happy for you, right?" he said. "It'll suck to have to share the time I thought I was going to have with you, but I know how big this is for you."

"Thanks for understanding," Christine said. "I know we were looking forward to having a little more free time, but we'll still have plenty of time together, and the show won't last the whole semester."

"I was thinking that maybe I could come hang out at your rehearsals. Not all of them, obviously, but don't you think it'd be kind of fun? I'd get to watch you rehearse and we could see each other whenever you get a break."

Christine hesitated a little. "I guess you can come if you really want to," she said. "But it probably won't be as interesting as you're expecting, and I don't know how much of a chance I'll have to really get to see you."

Raoul waved his hand dismissively. "I'll be fine. I just want to take advantage of the chance to see you a little more."

"That's fine with me, then. But I still think it'll be less enjoyable than you imagine."

He leaned away a little, examining her face. "Why don't you want me there?"

"It's not that I don't want you there," she said gently. "Of course I want to see you more. I'm just not sure you realize that I'll be working at rehearsals. I'll be focused, even when I'm not involved in a scene. I don't know how much I'll actually be able to come sit and talk with you, and I'd hate for you to find that it's not what you expected and spend an evening just sitting there bored."

"Okay," Raoul said, his tone making it clear that it was not okay. "If you say so."

There was a pause and Christine looked at him. "Raoul, I said that you can come, I just wanted you to know what to expect."

"And I just think that you should want me there a little more," he replied. "You keep doing this, Christine. You keep prioritizing music over us."

"I'm not prioritizing rehearsals over you just because I have to go to rehearsals."

"You know what I mean. With canceling the trip so you could have your lessons, and now this—and you won't even make your lessons less frequent to give us more time. I'm clearly not the most important thing in your life."

"Why do you have to be the most important thing?" Christine snapped before sighing and rubbing her eyes. "Sorry. That's not what I meant. I'm trying. I'll do my best to make more time for us, but I can't promise to drop everything else I'm doing."

"Fine."

When he didn't say anything else for a moment, Christine moved to climb out of the car. She paused with her hand on the handle when Raoul spoke suddenly.

"I shouldn't have to be important to you. I just should be."

Christine got out of the car without reply, a little too annoyed to assure him that he was important to her, that that didn't mean there couldn't be other things that were also important. She doubted he'd really hear her anyway.