How can you see into my eyes
Like open doors
Leading down into my core
Where I've become so numb
Without a soul
My spirit is sleeping somewhere cold
Until you find it there and lead it back home

— Bring Me To Life lyrics by Evanscene

I found Erik by himself in the private music room beneath the cafeteria. He was sitting at the piano, obviously in his own world. His eyes were focused on the piece of music in front of him, his fingers gliding over the porcelain keys with amazing grace and ease. As I inched in to the room I closed the door softly behind me, not wanting to interrupt the lovely tune. I lingered by the door and watched this master of music in silence. The piece was nothing I had ever heard before; I began to wonder if this was something he had written himself.

"You can come closer, I don't mind the company." Erik said just barely over the sound of the piano. He looked at me out of the corner of his eye. His black hair was messy but in such a way it almost appeared to be purposeful. The state of his hair, though, looked mismatched to what he wore: a pair of black dress pants and a navy blue button down shirt. Erik was dressed for something important but it looked like it was the last thing on his mind.

I slowly approached him, slightly in a trance as I listened to the music. Without knowing I took a seat on the piano bench, only inches away from Erik. I couldn't tell if he minded, let alone noticed, how close we were. He seemed timid the day before, even a little weary of human contact. Now it was like he didn't seem to care.

"It's a beautiful song." I whispered. I watched as Erik's hands danced across the keys, causing the stunning notes. Unconsciously I moved closer still to him and soon we both noticed that our legs were touching. Erik turned his eyes away from me quickly, never losing his place in the song, and I felt my face grow warm with embarrassment.

Letting the music fill in the silence around us for a moment I sighed heavily. "I thought you said you wanted to do some sketches today."

Erik nodded slowly, his eyes focusing on his hands as they danced across the piano's keys. "I did but my mother decided that tonight I would perform for some old friends of the family. She told me this morning so I really didn't have much time to tell you." He faltered for a moment as, I believe, his mind wandered away from what he was doing. "I guess we should've prepared for this a bit better."

"It's okay." I said with a soft smile. "It's not like you knew this was gonna happen."

"No." Erik whispered. He pulled his hands away from the piano, though he didn't look away. "It's not okay. You seemed excited with the idea and so was I; it's not every day I have someone willing to be a model."

Silence settled in the room. I fidgeted with the cuff of my sleeve, somewhat nervous. I stared blankly at the piano and suddenly smiled. "I've always wanted to learn how to play the piano. My family had one when I was younger but I was never able to learn." Nervously I placed a hand on the keys and produced a few horrid sounds.

"I can teach you, if you want me to." Erik said softly. He looked at me and I could see that he was nervous. I smiled happily and nodded; it was the only thing Erik needed as a reply. He quickly returned the smiled and looked at the piano. "So, do you know any songs; even if they're only parts of a song?"

"I know a little Fur Elise." I replied with a bashful smile. "My mother loves that song; I watched her play it hundreds of times but I only remember the very beginning."

"Okay. Why don't you play what you know? I can help you when you need it."

Erik watched as I fumbled with the keys, my fingers barely able to make out the song. He winced at the sound, his eyes never leaving the sight of my hands. He could see I wasn't happy with how I was playing; it seemed to lack feeling, the same feeling Erik seemed to breathe into the pieces he touched. I wish I had his talent, but my talent rested in the forms of dancing and singing.

"Why don't I help you?" Erik said, causing me to stop abruptly. He stood and moved behind me. "Move forward a little." I did so without questioning and was somewhat surprised as I felt Erik sit behind me. I tensed as his hands came over mine and as his chest came to rest against my back. His legs were on either side of mine and I could feel his breath against my neck, sending a chill down my spine.

Slowly Erik put some pressure on my fingers, causing the piano to sing softly. The sound rang through the silence, drifting into silence little by little. He could tell I was nervous about how close we were and I could sense the same feeling in him. In a way, though, we both welcomed to the touch of the other, something I couldn't understand.

"It's okay." Erik whispered in my ear. "Relax and let the music flow. Play what you know and I will guide you if you need help."

I nodded and placed my hands in their proper places. Nervously I began to play the notes I knew. Erik guided me with ease, yet he didn't say a word. His hands and fingers lead my own to their precise positions, slowly at first. I smiled softly at our work, feeling more and more comfortable with Erik so close to me.

"You're doing very well." Erik whispered.

I smiled again. "Thank you. You're a wonderful teacher."

Erik rested his chin on my shoulder and I came to an abrupt stop. I could feel myself blushing, a little nervous when Erik didn't pull away. His hands slowly moved away from my own, moving up my arms ever so softly. I shuddered against the touch and closed my eyes. Erik wrapped his arms around my stomach and he held me close. I could hear him breathing and for a moment I thought I heard him sob.

I put my hands over Erik's and I heard him take in a sharp breath at the touch. He took my hands into his and squeezed them. There was something going on his mind, but I had a feeling it wasn't what most guys would be thinking; something was troubling him. As I opened my mouth to say something I felt his lips press against my neck, kissing me softly; my voice seemed lost.

"No one has ever been so nice to me." Erik whispered. "Thank you."

"You don't have to thank me." I replied. I took Erik's hand and kissed it. "I can't begin to understand why anyone would be mean to you."

Erik pulled away suddenly and stood, leaving me with a sudden feeling of regret. I turned and watched as he paced slightly, his eyes on the ground and his hands in his pockets. I searched for words of comfort but nothing seemed like it would work. So, the silence continued for what felt like ages. I watched my masked friend and waited; if he wanted comfort he would turn to me eventually.

Slowly Erik came to a stop, raising his eyes to the wall in front of him. Then he turned to look at the others as if searching for something. "Christine," he whispered, "do you know what time it is?"

I pushed up the sleeve on my left arm and looked at my watch. "Oh wow!" I gasped. My eyes turned to Erik; he was watching me. "We've been down here for a while; it's almost two!"

"Two?" Erik cried. He muttered some profanity beneath his breath and began to gather his scarce few things. "I have to get home. My mother would kill me if I wasn't ready by the time she arrived. My music isn't ready; I have nothing!"

"Calm down!" I said, with a nervous laugh. The sound of my voice caused Erik to falter and look at me. "Don't get all worked up; it'll just make things worse. Take it easy and you'll be fine. Besides, I know you'll do fine."

Erik shifted his weight from one leg to the other nervously. "Excuse me if this sounds rude, but how would you know?"

I smiled brightly. "If what you were playing when I found you is anything to go by than you'll get a standing ovation."

ERIK

Before I left the college I gave Christine a ticket to my performance. It was supposed to go to Mrs. Marrin but she had prior engagements to attend. I was sad to know she wouldn't see me perform but, looking back on it, it was a God send. The look of shock on Christine's face when I handed her the ticket was etched in my mind. I was half afraid that she had other things to do but all she did was smile and say that she would be there.

The moment I stepped on to the stage, the spotlight on me as I slowly moved towards the grand piano, my eyes scanned the audience. I looked past the aged faces and tried to find the young ones. There were a few people my age, but they seemed to be there for their parents. Just as I was turning my eyes away from the nameless mass I saw her; she was standing off to the side, almost encased in the shadows. She looked out of place, yet refined as she stood there in short, plain black dress. Her eyes sparkled and her hair was brought back into a ponytail with ringlets lining her face.

During that performance I gave my all. It wasn't for my mother or anyone who was donating money to music programs, it was for Christine. I poured my heart and soul into each note and could only wish that she knew that it was all for her. Each piece of music was my own and as I ended my final piece, Piagnucoloso Angelo, I could feel the tears trickling down my unmasked cheek. I squeezed my eyes shut, sending the tears streaming down my face as I played and blind to everything. My fingers knew their places, even if my mind was fogged by the sudden rush of emotions.

Then it was over; the curtains fell and I was slumped over the ivory keys trying to hold back my sobs. I could hear the applause roaring on the other side of the velvet material but I motioned to the stage hands not to move. I felt drained, a new feeling for me. Never in my life has a feeling washed over me as I finished playing a night of endless music. What was happening to me?

"Erik?"

I lifted my head just enough to see who was calling to me. I saw a flash of a black dress before watching this angel kneel before me, her eyes red from tears yet a smile was dancing across her face. Christine took my hand, the smile never leaving her face even as I tried to pull away. I sat straight and ran my fingers across the keys as I tried to regain my composure. The last thing I wanted was Christine seeing me in tears.

"I'm glad you came." I whispered.

"I couldn't pass up a chance!" Christine chirped. She stood and glanced at the curtain behind her. "They loved you! I never heard such music before. I mean, the last song brought every one to tears, Erik! I've never seen anyone do that."

"You're too nice, Christine." I replied with a soft smile. I looked at her and she smiled back at me. "Thank you for coming; it means a lot to me." For a moment I saw something flash in her emerald eyes and they began to shake. When she blinked I noticed a tear trickle down her rosy cheeks. In a few quick movements I was beside her, cradling her face in my hands. "Why are you crying?"

Christine shook her head and took a step back. "It's nothing; still just a little teary-eyed from that last song." She wiped away her tears with the back of her hand, smudging her makeup slightly. "It sounded so sad. It was like someone couldn't touch the one they loved, even though they were so close. That someone didn't want to hurt the one they loved so they stayed away, even though it broke their heart."

I lowered my eyes. "You're a very intelligent individual, never let anyone tell you otherwise." I took Christine's hand into mine and give it a tight squeeze, which she returned. "Thank you for being so kind to me."

"There's my little artist!"

As that voice ripped through my mind I pulled my hand away from Christine's, yet it was too late. My mother swooped to my side; her eyes studying Christine like a lion would study its prey. My mother linked her arm to mine and she looked at me proudly. She began to ramble on about the performance, never giving Christine another look. I did, though; my eyes stayed on her and they begged her not to leave. All she did was give me a goofy smile and a silent laugh about my situation. If my mother wasn't there I would've laughed too.

Finally my mother looked at Christine. "Who might this young lady be?"

I pulled my arm away from my mother and cleared my throat. "Mother, this is Christine; I met her yesterday after showing her some of my work."

Christine smiled happily. "It's very nice to met you. Erik is a very talented person; you must be very proud of him."

"So you attend the same college as Erik." My mother cocked an eyebrow. "Are you an artist as well or just looking?"

"Christine does ballet, mother." I said quickly. "I've seen her practice and she is very talented herself. I'm coming up with a few ideas to have her perform with me."

"What?" My mother and Christine said that word in unison, yet it sounded different. I could see that my mother was growing angry, her eyes were narrowing and her eyebrow twitched ever so slightly. Christine, on the other hand, seemed to be shocked; her eyes were wide, her cheeks were flushed, and her hand was at her mouth in amazement.

"I've always wanted to compose something that a person could dance to." I turned, looking Christine in the eye. Her cheeks began to deepen in their rosy color. "Would you mind? I would love the opportunity to work with you on two different projects."

Christine smiled with a soft, nervous laugh. "Sure!"

"Two projects?" my mother growled. She glared at me and I'm sure Christine was given even harsher looks. "What is going on here? Erik, what have I told you about. . . ."

"Your son is going to do a couple of sketches of me." Christine said happily. "He asked me the other day if it was alright. He's such a wonderful artist, how could I pass it up?"

My mother straightened her dress and fixed her posture. She was getting ready to do something, what it was I couldn't tell. "Erik, we need to leave. Dr. King is holding a small party in your favor and the mayor will be attending. Say good bye to your little friend and then meet me in the car." Those words were full of spite and venom and when she turned away I could feel her anger lingering in the air.

Neither of us spoke until my mother had disappeared into the shadows. I looked at Christine and she looked at me. Her smile had faded, as did the color in her cheeks. She quickly averted her eyes, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

"I'm sorry about that." I sighed. "My mother has a tendency to jump to conclusions and she is a little over protective."

A smile suddenly crossed Christine's face and I knew she was hiding her true feelings. "Oh don't worry about! She was probably just upset that you didn't tell her about your plans. All mothers are like that; there's no escaping it."

"What about you; is your mother like that?" I asked, shrugging. Christine opened her mouth to reply but her voice didn't respond. I saw her eyes shake for a moment but something shifted behind them; I had crossed a line.

Christine looked at her wristwatch and heaved a sigh. "I think I better get home. Kyria will have a fit if I don't get back soon."

I cocked an eyebrow and watched as she hurried away. "Is Kyria your mother's name?"

"No." Christine said as she glanced over her shoulder; there were tears in her eyes. "She's my kitten. Good night."



Author's Notes: Sorry this took so long to write. . Writer's block is hell to me. Things have taken an interesting twist! What is Erik's mother angry about? Why is Christine avoiding questions about her mother? And how long can Erik go before telling Christine how he feels? Stay tuned for the answers and the coming of the 'Raoul' figure. dun dun dunnnnnnnn