//=italics
The next day at seven o'clock, Erik slowly made his way towards the end of the passage. Christine was already waiting for him when he arrived.
"Christine," Erik called softly.
"I'm here Angel," Christine replied. "I'm ready for my lesson."
"Alright, sing me the aria from Faust please," he instructed. He watched her carefully as she sang. Her tone was perfect and she only had a few sharp or flat notes. She finished the song and waited. Erik thought a moment before giving his comments.
"You have a wonderful voice Christine. You should be the leading soprano, not Carlotta. Now, you had perfect tone and diction. A few notes were off pitch, but that is to be expected especially when unaccompanied. Your posture is that of a dancer though. Stand straight but relaxed. You should be able to feel your body expand when you breathe. Don't lock your knees and keep your tailbone tucked in," he told her. She changed her posture and waited to see if she was right. When Erik didn't say anything, she asked him.
"Is this how I am supposed to be?"
"Yes, very good." Erik replied. The lesson continued and Erik was very pleased with the results. At 8 o'clock Erik decided to end the lesson. "Well Christine, you have done very well tonight. We will do one lesson each week at the same time. Is that alright with you?"
"Yes of course Angel," she answered.
"Good. I will talk to you next week then. Bonne nuit Christine," Erik said.
"Good night Angel," Christine replied. Erik walked away slowly. When he returned to his lair he pulled off his cloak and hat and poured himself a glass of wine. He sipped it thoughtfully as he relived the night's events. He vowed silently that he would make sure that Christine became a star.
Christine sighed and sat in front of her vanity. She picked up her brush and absently brushed her long brown hair. She replayed the Angel's words in her mind. His voice was so wonderful. It was smooth and melodic like a perfectly tuned instrument. He was very obviously a singer. She pondered what he looked like.
/I wonder if he's handsome/, she thought to herself. Then she decided he must be. All the pictures of angels she had seen in church as a young girl showed them as beautiful women or handsome men in flowing white robes. She longed to see her Angel. /Sometime I will ask him if he will show himself to me/, she promised herself. /Until then, I will just have to imagine./
The next day at seven o'clock, Erik slowly made his way towards the end of the passage. Christine was already waiting for him when he arrived.
"Christine," Erik called softly.
"I'm here Angel," Christine replied. "I'm ready for my lesson."
"Alright, sing me the aria from Faust please," he instructed. He watched her carefully as she sang. Her tone was perfect and she only had a few sharp or flat notes. She finished the song and waited. Erik thought a moment before giving his comments.
"You have a wonderful voice Christine. You should be the leading soprano, not Carlotta. Now, you had perfect tone and diction. A few notes were off pitch, but that is to be expected especially when unaccompanied. Your posture is that of a dancer though. Stand straight but relaxed. You should be able to feel your body expand when you breathe. Don't lock your knees and keep your tailbone tucked in," he told her. She changed her posture and waited to see if she was right. When Erik didn't say anything, she asked him.
"Is this how I am supposed to be?"
"Yes, very good." Erik replied. The lesson continued and Erik was very pleased with the results. At 8 o'clock Erik decided to end the lesson. "Well Christine, you have done very well tonight. We will do one lesson each week at the same time. Is that alright with you?"
"Yes of course Angel," she answered.
"Good. I will talk to you next week then. Bonne nuit Christine," Erik said.
"Good night Angel," Christine replied. Erik walked away slowly. When he returned to his lair he pulled off his cloak and hat and poured himself a glass of wine. He sipped it thoughtfully as he relived the night's events. He vowed silently that he would make sure that Christine became a star.
Christine sighed and sat in front of her vanity. She picked up her brush and absently brushed her long brown hair. She replayed the Angel's words in her mind. His voice was so wonderful. It was smooth and melodic like a perfectly tuned instrument. He was very obviously a singer. She pondered what he looked like.
/I wonder if he's handsome/, she thought to herself. Then she decided he must be. All the pictures of angels she had seen in church as a young girl showed them as beautiful women or handsome men in flowing white robes. She longed to see her Angel. /Sometime I will ask him if he will show himself to me/, she promised herself. /Until then, I will just have to imagine./