Disclaimer: Same as before applies…

Father Once Spoke of an Angel

By: Stealiana

A/N: I apologize for the delay - it's not much this time around, but I had finals to deal with, so I wasn't able to get much done. More will be on the way shortly!

Chapter 9: Adrian

Eric bolted upright. It was another chorus member; a fifteen-year-old called Adrian. His blonde hair was somewhat long, constantly getting in his eyes, so he habitually flipped it away in one quick, fluid motion. Eric supposed with some distaste that Adrian had perfected the flick of his neck by watching himself in a mirror somewhere. The fifteen-year-old had proven his slightly egotistical nature on more than one occasion during rehearsals. Eric had developed a strong grudge against the blonde, but not quite a rivalry. Adrian had been slightly upset that Eric had joined the Opera - to his credit, Adrian had been working furiously to advance through the ranks, but now that Eric had shown up, Adrian felt threatened.

Adrian gave Eric a distasteful look.

"What are you doing?" He repeated, glaring furiously, his green eyes narrowed.

"What does it look like?" Eric's retort was a tad sharper than he intended. Not that he regretted it for a moment…

"Slacking." Adrian sniffed disdainfully, looking down at the dark haired boy. "We're supposed to be rehearsing." Eric blinked, swearing they had just finished. But he wouldn't admit that to Adrian… he would use any ammunition he could get to humiliate Eric in front of everyone.

Eric decided it would be best not to respond. He was far too tired to get into an argument with some stuck-up blonde over whether or not he was slacking. With a dignified silence, Eric walked past the boy, who was a good foot taller than him, and made his way towards the stage.

He peeked in through the backstage door, faintly hearing a piano and voices. He crept through the curtains a bit, trying to get closer. He saw a woman - he wasn't sure of her name, he hadn't seen her much - and a man, Henri, Eric thought his name was, singing a duet to the sole accompaniment of the piano. Eric checked over his shoulder, not seeing Adrian anywhere. He sat down on the floor, listening to the melody and the voices. He watched them practice, their choreographed moves weaving in with the music, each gesture emphasizing the music and the words.

He imagined that it was him on the stage, singing to Christine. The thought made him turn crimson, and he was oddly embarrassed. He tried to concentrate on the song, the words, but they refused to stay in his head as he continually conjured Christine's face. It had been quite some time since he had seen her last. But the opera was due to be performed any day now - there was not much time left to visit. He did not realize he had sighed aloud until it was too late. The woman had turned, squinting into the wings where he was hidden. Not waiting to be discovered, he turned and fled from the stage.

As he made his way through the hallway, he thought he heard a voice call to him. A soft whisper, faintly drifting done the corridor.

"Eric." This time it was more definitive, as though it was coming from behind him. But when he turned, no one was there.

"Eric." Now it came from the other end of the hallway, as strong as before. "It's so good to see you again." From the shadows of the hallway, he could make out the faint outline of a man. Suddenly Eric realized who the voice belonged to: the Ghost. With a trusting smile, he trotted over to the shadow, peering up into the dark eyes.

"Yes? What is it?" The shadow shifted, moving down the hall.

"I want you to sing."

"But Monsieur," Eric jogged a little, to keep up with the Ghost's brisk pace. "Rehearsal was going to start. I was told -"

"You will not listen to them, you will listen to me. Need I remind you who got you where you are today?"

"No, but -"

"Do not worry about them. I will see that they are well taken care of. You need only to follow me." He stopped and turned sideways slightly. "Besides, I thought you'd be overjoyed to see Christine."