Chapter Two- A Night At the Opera Garnier


Christine Daae` almost carelessly smeared greasepaint on her face as she sat at her dressing room table, she smiled at the flowers her fiancé had left for her and a giddy, childish feeling overwhelmed her.

Her eyes fell to Erik's ring, safely secure to her finger, the onyx setting glowing in the candlelight. Her heart gave a leap as she thought of him in his knee in the cemetery. He loved her and she loved him, that was all that was important.

It was true, that only the evening before she had confessed her love she had wrung from him in terror of his face, and in the fact that he had deceived her. He was no angel, he was a man. But he was a man she loved very much and a man who loved her just as much.

She sighed, finishing her ritual. She hated the paint, for it's strong stench and thick consistency, but she had been told many times, either wear it or watch from behind the curtain.

She sighed, her spirits sunken by the thought of Firmin and Andre`, ordering her around and treating Carlotta as a princess.

Someday that will be me, She thought. Erik will help see to that.

She exited her dressing room with one final look into the mirror. She had a feeling Erik was in his box now, listening to the tuning of the instruments and talent of the musicians, finding something to criticize if he need to, as the overture played.


After the performance it was safe to say that Christine was worn out. She trudged to her dressing room, throwing her props down and she immediately began to undress. She did not care if Erik was watching, she wanted to get out of the tight costume as soon as possible.

She did so and only now did she realize the extended possibility of Erik's wandering eyes. She felt herself turn red in many places and her body was hot. She quickly slipped her dress

over her chemise and sighed sitting down. She rolled her neck, several cracks were produced, causing her to groan and rub her throbbing temples.

"Headache?" She looked into the doorway to see Raoul, standing against the frame.

She jumped up. "Raoul, how long have you been...?"

He grinned. "Two seconds, calm down. I came in when I heard you sit down." Raoul was by far the last person she wanted to see right now, she knew he was sweet on her, but she was not the least bit interested.

She sighed. "Raoul, I really do not want to talk, I'm quite tired and as you said, I have a headache."

He grinned. "Then to hell with talking." He reached out and pulled her roughly to him, pressing his warm, open mouth to her screwed shut one.

"Raoul, stop it let go of me! LET GO!" She shoved him back.

He looked quite surprised. "Christine what is your problem?"

"You are my problem , I am not interested in you, you were my crush as a child but I have grown up and I think now would be an ideal time for you to do the same!" Her own words surprised her but she could not reverse them or say this differently, she was as frank as could be.

He stared at her. "But, Christine..."

"No buts Raoul, just..."

"I love you." He said, quite a bit more softly.

She looked at him. "No, you lust for me." She opened the door and did not look him in the eye. "Please..."

He sighed. "All right, but I'll be back, I'm not giving up on you, Christine, I never will."

She finally looked at him. "You really should, Raoul."

"Oh should I? Why, it's not like you love another, I know deep..."He was cut off as he stared at the ring on her finger. He had looked there to reassure himself there was no other, but the ring had stopped his speech.

Christine knew he noticed. "Goodnight Raoul."

"This is not the end, Christine." He then turned and left the room.

She closed the door behind him. "Stubborn Chagny."

"I believe, my love, the term is 'stubborn ass'."

"Yes, that's what I said." She replied, almost drunk at his hypnotic voice. They had been engaged only two weeks, but she felt like she had already become his wife.