I want to thank my loyal reviewers, you know who you are! If it weren't for you guys I would have left this story in its first chapter. So far it has been one chapter a day but it won't stay that way for long. It is already Wednesday of my Spring Break, meaning that as soon as it is over, I will most likely update two times a week or maybe just once. In other news, for those who think that Raoul is too mean or stubborn, you will soon learn why. Oh, the reason I didn't put this chapter up yesterday was because I had to make the song, Angel of Music. It's corny and I never said I was a genius like Andrew Lloyd Webber but the song is needed in order to understand the story. Christine's father made the song for her when she was little so maybe with that little piece of information you'll understand a little better. At the end, there is a surprise appearance by-let me just shut up now so you can read.


School went by uneventfully, even if it was the first day of school. There was no one worth talking to, or rather that would talk to her. There was only Carlotta, Jason, Megan and Raoul and some classes she would have neither. So she had to stay alone with people she never knew.

The drama class came and Christine afterwards wished she hadn't.

Madame Giry wasn't going to be teaching that day, she had some things to do, so instead André taught. André was the school chorus director.

André said that since they were in drama, he was going to convince Madame Giry to do an opera. (Al though he insisted that he was going to help but the gleam in his eyes said otherwise.)

"Yeah, sure," Jason had said. "An opera in this high school? Can you imagine trying to sell tickets here? Trying to get someone to open and close curtains will be a bitch."

People giggled at his remark. André seemed unimpressed.

Christine loved to sing but didn't like to show it to others. Other than James, Carlotta, Meg and Raoul, there were twelve other people in the class.

But André didn't mind that he had to sit through eighteen people singing, he actually wanted to.

"So, he told everyone. "Who will go first?"

They were all sitting on metal chairs onstage of the auditorium of the other night. The auditorium of her new high school.

It looks so different during the day, she told herself.

The first (obviously) to go was Carlotta. She sang a part of Madame Butterfly.

Although beautifully perfected, she exaggerated way too much.

Christine looked at Raoul.

Raoul looked just as bored as she felt. Then when Raoul looked at her, she noticed she had been staring.

She shook her head and tried to hide her blushing cheeks.

When she knew that he wasn't looking, she looked back at him. And she burst into hysterical laughter.

Raoul had made an invisible noose and held it at his neck. Christine noticed that he could not stand Carlotta's singing. She did sing beautifully but her attitude shone through and it was not as good.

After being scolded by André, Christine's giggles soon died down.

Then when Carlotta was done, André applauded.

No one else did.

After her there were plenty of volunteers.

Three girls sang Britney Spears, others poor imitations of Whitney Houston and the boys all either rapped or said they didn't want to sing.

James was among them.

But not Raoul, he instead sang Frank Sinatra.

Christine could see he was very talented. Meg could also sing beautiful. She was the only one that could sign through every note of any Christina Augilera song.

"Beautiful," André said. "All of you. Well," he said looking down at his clipboard. "Not all of you."

Christine knew who he was referring to, the ones that considered rap music.

"That only leaves one," he looked at his clipboard again. "Miss Christine Dáae, please come forward."

Christine had been hoping that there wouldn't be enough time for her to sing. She had been silently praying that the bell would ring. But there was no such luck.

She stepped forward in front of the, all and swallowed. Hard.

She could choose not to sing, she knew that but she also knew André would force her somehow to sing something she didn't know.

Her hands began to sweat and when she opened her mouth, nothing would come out.

Because that was what she knew. Nothing. She didn't know any songs her friends would know.

Her father was a violinist, she grew up surrounded by classical music. There was no song she knew.

Except one.

She closed her eyes and imagined her father with her once again. He was right there, his brown graying hair as frizzy as ever. His brown eyes as vibrant as ever as he looked at his music.

"Now, once again from the top," his smooth voice would say.

In her mind, she could hear his beautiful music reverberate through her every nerve.

She took a deep breath. And began to sing.

"Where there is music, there is life,

Where there is love, there is no strife,

Whenever you start to feel alone,

Just think of me and you won't."

Tears began to form at the edge of Christine's eyes. She had never taken the words into consideration. Now that her father had died, the words began to take on a whole different meaning.

"Because I'll hold you in my heart

And no one in there will tear us apart.

There is only one hope for you my dear,

That he may at last may appear."

The tears were now crowding even more. Her vision began to blur, but she would not cry, not in front of everyone.

"For his name won't matter to you at all,

Just know that he will catch you when you fall.

The Angel of Music will take care of you,

To dry your tears when you fell blue."

Now a murmuring began to grow louder. She knew they were talking about her. The girl who on the first day of school began to cry, that was what they were going to call her. She knew it. Her voice began to break as she uttered one of the last few lines of her lullaby.

"He will teach you all you need to know.

So that your spirit will grow and grow-"

She couldn't take it anymore, she had been holding her tears back long enough.

She ran away from the stage as fast as she could. But she couldn't run away from the truth. Her father wouldn't be there for her anymore.

She didn't know where it was that she ran to but she didn't care. She collapsed in front of a long curtain. Al though she held on to the curtain for support, she fell to her knees.

She sobbed into her hands. "Where are you my angel of music?" She said it so low, she didn't want to be heard by anyone.

Then she heard footsteps. Large footsteps that had belong to a man.

Above her.

She looked up. There were the beams of course but there was something else. Something black against the other darker black.

A figure. A-

"Christine?"

Christine looked to the side where she had come from. The small voice came form an equally petite girl.

She had a handkerchief in her hand and when she knelt beside her she gave it to Christine.

"You want to talk?" she offered.

"No, Meg, I don't'," she answered nasally because of the crying.

Meg smiled. "You've had no one to talk to. Confide in me now."

Christine sniffled. Why not? She had no one and Meg seemed genuinely worried about her.

Christine let out a long shaky breath but didn't start talking until she was ready. Which was about a minute and a half later. "Ever since I was little, my father would tell me of an angel. The Angel of Music. He told me that if anything were to happen to him, the Angel would take car of me. He would teach and guide me and somehow help me. He fed me all that nonsense and now I realized it was all bullshit."

Meg didn't' flinch or anything, she just looked at her with understanding.

"He'd been telling me that for so long that I actually believed him." Christine chuckled a bit. "Imagine that, he's been lying to me all these sixteen years." Then her voice grew harsh. "he always spoke of an angel but now when I need him most, he's not there." She sighed and wiped her eyes. "Do you believe in the Angel of Music?"

Meg's eyes looked as if they were full of tears. "Yes, I believe in the Angel of Music." She took the hanky and wiped her cheeks. "Someone will come to you, Christine. Then you won't feel so alone."

Christine looked at her. "You promise?"

"I swear," Meg said, then she sighed, looked away then back at Christine. "Look. This is our last class and the bell already rang. I can tell mom to wait for you until you're ready to come out." She pointed to a door not so far away. "There's a bathroom there we use. Wash your face or something."

Christine nodded.

"Good," she stood and before she left she said, "I'll see you in a bit."

After Meg gave her direction of how to get back to the stage (Christine now noticed it was like a labyrinth) she left her to get washed up.

With reason, Christine thought when she saw herself in the mirror. She had her make up running down her face. She sighed, washed her face then left the many-mirrored bathroom.

Following Meg's directions she located her messenger bag on the now empty stage. The chairs were stacked but the curtains were still open.

She looked out at the empty auditorium. "I'm glad you liked the show," she said to no one in particular.

Sighing, she jumped down from the stage and made her way walking down the empty aisles. As she walked she thought she heard something. It sounded as if someone was calling her name.

She turned abruptly. It was impossible, there was non one there, she was sure of it. What kind of person would stay after school?

She continued looking around the empty auditorium.

"Christine…Christine…"

She turned quickly, following the echo. She definitely heard it. A man was calling her, singing her name.

Had her father finally answered her prayer?

Was it the Angel of Music?


You know what to do. If you want to know who this voice is (I think you already do) then send me a review. Love you all, tootles!
Jinx