A/N~ Is this like weirding you all out? Am I writing too much? Let me know ok? I just got bit by the writing bug and I can't stop.

Disclaimer~ I don't own Erik. He owns me! My soul! My voice! My heart! Hehe. But I own a lot of the stuff in this chapter. Really. Its my genius, I swear!

Chapter Four ~Angel of Music~

I slipped away as the other girls began practicing. Making my way to Christine's dressing room, I caught up with her at her door. Her face was white.

"Christine?" I asked, startling her. "Are you all right?"

Christine's face began to gain color as she spoke, "Yes, I'm fine. I. I heard a noise in the corridor and it frightened me." She smiled shakily.

I looked at her. "Are you sure?"

Almost brusquely, she replied, "Yes I am quite sure." She entered her dressing room, non-chalantly looking about her. She appeared nervous about something, but I made no further remark.

Instead, I questioned, "Why are you hiding from everyone? Really, Christine, you were perfect." Christine smiled again, more warmly than before. "Christine, tell me. Who really taught you to sing this way? Who is this new tutor?"

Christine looked at me a minute, then said softly, "Remember how Father once spoke of an angel? When he died, I used to dream he would appear. And now Meg, when I sing, sing anywhere at all, I can almost sense him. And I just know he is here!" Christine's face took on a trance-like ecstasy look. As I stared at her, aghast, she moved about the room, blissfully speaking in a singsong tone. "Here, in this very room, he calls me softly. Somewhere inside, hiding. Meg, somehow I know he is always with me! Everywhere I go. him. an unseen genius."

I could not believe my ears. What sort of trickery was this? I managed to find my voice and stammered, "Christine? Are you dreaming? Mad? You know that's stories like this can't come true. The Angel was just a story! A made up story! You're talking in riddles, Christine. And it's not like you at all. You're frightening me. Be reasonable Christine!" She had me thoroughly frightened. My sensible, down to earth friend was sputtering nonsense all over the place, looking like she was possessed. I carefully approached her, putting my hand out, when Christine burst out singing. Startled, I leaped back against the wall, my eyes wide.

"Angel of Music, guide and guardian! Grant to me your glory! Angel of music, hide no longer. Secret and strange angel!" Suddenly she stopped singing and darkly murmured, "He is with me, even now."

I approached Christine and took her hand. "Christine! Your hands are like ice!"

Christine nervously looked around her. "All around."

"Your face! Christine, you're as white as a ghost. What is wrong? Christine answer me!" I was border lining hysterical. I had concluded that Christine had lost her mind. No sane person ever could or would act like this.

Christine whirled around and grabbed both my hands. "It frightens me, Meg!"

I snapped to my senses. "Don't be frightened," I ordered. We stared at each other. I repeated, "Don't be frightened."

Suddenly someone knocked on the door.

My heart leaped out of my chest as Christine and I both jumped, startled.

"Come in," Christine called out nervously. The door opened, and there stood Mme. Giry. "I trust, Meg Giry, you are a dancer." I nodded. "And, judging by your performance tonight, you are not perfect?" I simply nodded again. It was useless to fight with my mother. "Then come and practice," she ordered sharply.