A few streets away Christine leaned out of the window of her room, looking at the same sky and her mind circling around the same topic. With the window open she could at least pretend to herself that it was only the cool night air which made her eyes water. She didn´t want to cry. Why couldn´t she be more like the other girls, who laughed about such experience and started admiring the next man immediately?
For as long as she could remember she had been different from girls of her age, but when her father had still been alive it hadn´t been that important to her. ´You have me, and I have you.´, he had said on the rare occasions when she had complained about not having friends. Then he had fetched his violin, sometimes playing a cheerful melody, sometimes a melancholy one. Either way Christine had been happy again as she had sung.
She shook her head emphatically. Music certainly wasn´t the right subject to think about at the moment. Almost wistfully she remembered his long fingers wandering over the keys of the piano and his soft voice telling her to repeat a part of a song. ´He´s not dead.´, she reminded herself. ´You´ll see him again tomorrow evening.´ But at the same time she was aware that she´d never be able to look at him as before, now that he knew what she was feeling. He had known it without her saying so… Sometimes Christine wondered whether he was even human.
Not in the literal sense, of course. She knew he wasn´t the Angel of Music – he had told her the first time they had come face to face. He was a human being. She could touch him, and he could touch her, although admittedly he had not done so a single time. He didn´t even shake her hand at the beginning or end of a lesson, obviously avoiding every physical contact. The girl had been shocked to discover how cold his shoulder had been under her fingers. She had been even more surprised, however, by her urgent wish to wrap her arms around him, warming him.
Christine couldn´t tell whether this was child-like affection, friendship or something else. Whatever it was Erik apparently didn´t return it. Or maybe he couldn´t return it… Quickly she wiped away the telltale signs of tears on her face, closed the window and went to bed. As she blew out the candle on her bedside table she suddenly thought that this was a situation in which she needed a friend, someone to talk to about the odd feelings she had. She sighed and closed her eyes, trying to sleep.
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"Good morning, Christine! How are you?" Christine looked up from her ballet shoes, surprised to find Meg Giry standing in front of her. Meg knew her name? Meg talked to her? Well, maybe she wanted to do a good deed. It would be foolish to overrate it. "I´m fine.", she said, still a little puzzled. The other girl beamed at her. "Good. Look, I want to go for a walk after the rehearsal. Don´t you want to come with me?" Christine frowned. "What about Martine, Sophie and Cathérine?", she asked, referring to Meg´s usual companions. "Oh, they don´t want to accompany me.", she replied hastily. A smile lit up Christine´s face. "All right!", she said. "Great! See you then!"
Meg turned around and went to her normal place in the dressing room. She hoped that the new girl hadn´t noticed how relieved she had been that she had accepted her invitation. He had made clear that he wanted everything to go quickly, so Meg had wasted no time. At first she had been astonished about the letter she had been given by Mme.Giry that morning. Her mother hadn´t needed many words to convince her that it was no joke. If the Opera Ghost asked you for something, you had to fulfil his wish. Everyone knew and respected that: M.Lefèvre, M.Reyer – everyone. So if she, Meg Giry, received a note telling her to become friends with Christine Daaé, she had to do it. She was even a little proud of the task; usually only important people in the opera got his instructions. Besides, maybe she would have done it anyway. This Christine seemed to be a nice girl. If she ended up liking her, it would be even better.
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"I would have never believed she was that friendly.", Christine finished. It hadn´t been her intention to tell her teacher the whole story, but she had needed something to conceal her embarrassment on their first meeting after her unsuccessful advance. So she had talked for several minutes, unaware of Erik´s satisfied smile. He had watched the Giry girl take her to the park, a little angry that he had not been able to listen to their conversation. Anger was an emotion he allowed himself to have. It had influenced his decisions positively more than once, so it was an exception, a feeling which made him stronger.
Christine looked at him, waiting for his reaction. Now she also noticed that he was smiling, realising that he was even more attractive when he did so. Inwardly she shook her head about herself. How could she call someone whose whole face she had never seen attractive? Yet she knew her feelings had increased since she had spoken to Meg about them, of course without telling her who the man was. Meg´s advice had been simple: ´Maybe it had nothing to do with you. Men are strange sometimes. It´ll be best if you wait a few days and try again.´. So she would wait.
"I´m glad you found a friend, Christine.", Erik said. He was glad indeed. The more time she spent with Meg Giry, the less time she had to think about him. If she had ever done so! After all, he couldn´t be sure of it. Perhaps her behaviour had had completely different reasons. She was still very young, probably too young to be in love. But then, what did he know about girls? "However, we should continue our aria now. Please start from bar 35!"
