Welcome back for chapter 2. This one will have a more Erik/Christine setting. I know the last chapter only featured Erik very briefly, so he will be in this one a lot more.

Disclaimer: All I own is my love for Erik. Everything else is property to everyone but me i.e. Leroux, Andrew Lyod Webber, Susan Kay, and other such geniuses. I own Linette and her family, which is it.

A/N: Set around three weeks after previous chapter.

A/N 2 I hate Raoul. I will try and make him seem at least halfway decent but please don't hurt me if I say something to offend all you Raoul fans. My secret wish is for the Phantom to strangle Raoul with his lasso. Well at least in one movie version Raoul dose die, although that is the same movie version where Erik picks up a cheap hooker. With that said, I still hate Raoul.

A/N 3: Should I include Nadir/The Persian? Should I include Jules?

A/N4: If you have any questions about the musical terms I use, let me know and I will explain them to you. And the conductor is the embodiment of one of my 2 band teachers, Mr. White and Mr. Theodorson. I won't say which. If anyone out there is in the LCHS band you know exactly which one I am talking about XD

Viva La Fillette Revolutionnaire UTENA

Ayesha rules! You cannot have a phan fic without Ayesha

Enjoy…

MXIXVXIXM

Christine could hardly believe her eyes when she read in the paper that the Opera Populaire was being re-opened. The young woman had been sitting with her husband in the parlor in their grand mansion chatting idling about simple things when one of the butlers, Corbin, had handed Raoul the morning paper. His eyes had gone as round as saucers when he read aloud the headline "The Opera Populaire Is Back in Business". Forgetting the lady-like decorum she had been taught her entire life, Christine yanked the paper from her husband's hands and eagerly began reading. The new owners were two men by the name of Percival deCour and Audrey Chapman. She could only pray that they had more than half a brain like the two pompous fools who ran the opera previously. Firmin and Andre may have made a good deal in the junk business, 'Scrap Metal if you please,' as Andre would say it, but they knew nothing of running an opera house. It had all gone downhill from the moment they had shown up. She scanned the article three times over before earning a stern glance from Raoul and she folded the paper up neatly and placed it on the table between them.

Her life with Raoul had not been everything she had expected. There was a clear cut class difference the manor in which she had grown up and her new life with the high class Aristocratic society. It had taken a good deal of months before Christine had become fully accustomed to her new life. Instead of her usual nature she had to abnormally stiff and silent as was expected by women of the Parisian Aristocrats. It was only in the few short hours she spent alone in her room with the door locked that Christine could sing her heart out as she had done every day in her days as both a Chorus girl and Prima Donna Soprano. No longer could she sing in the opera theatres. Raoul would not permit it. That had been the cause of their first and only serious argument. In the end Christine did not want to jeopardize their nearly bound marriage and she quickly gave into his demands. Although Christine did indeed love Raoul she thought of her phantom every day and wondered what become of him.

She would always ponder what her life would have been life if she had chosen Erik. Christine could not help but feel that in some strange perverse way, her life would be more satisfied with Erik. She would be able to sing and make music to her heart's content all day, and night for that matter. Erik would always encourage her voice and he would often indulge with her in song. There was no doubt and denial that a part of Christine belonged to him, and always would. He had torn a piece of her heart that she would never get back. Although he hid it very well, Christine knew of Raoul's bitter jealousy and resentment towards Erik. Erik had truly loved her, as Christine figured out just an hour after she left him in his lair of darkness. But it was only on her wedding night that Christine finally realized that she truly did love Erik back. Yet at the same time she loved Raoul. Christine often found it strange how she could love two people so much at the same time and yet the love between both was of an entirely different nature. Erik loved Christine for who she was and nothing more or less. He knew her true nature and soul outside and in. Her Phantom offered everything that he could give to her. If Christine had been one to believe in soul mates, Erik would have been hers. He was soulful and sensual at the same time, but never losing his beauty and amazing genius in music. Raoul loved Christine in a companion-like and childlike way. He was playful and always a safe pillow she could fall on. Christine knew that she would never have to fear Raoul leaving her and had been childhood friends.

Christine knew in the heart of her very being what actually had been the deciding factor in her fateful choice. It was not about who she loved more, it was about who was or wasn't going to die. She did not want to see her best friend and childhood sweetheart hung by the hands of her Angel of Music. If indeed Erik had killed Raoul she would not have had much of a life to live because the price for killing a Vicomte was death by hanging. Their entire life would be lived on the run as she well knew, and assumed that Erik knew as well but didn't care about. Deep down Christine knew that if given the choice all over again and neither one would have died she would have chosen Erik. At first she fought with her subconscious but now Christine had given up entirely and did not deny the truth that was in her heart. Often she suspected that Raoul knew this as well and was the main fuel for his fire of hatred and jealousy against Erik, but the subject of Erik was never discussed. In the two years that she had been living with Raoul, never once had the merest peep of the word about Erik had been muttered. Christine liked it that way; that way she would have to keep her feelings confined within her so no one became hurt.

"It says here that their new show will make its debut tomorrow eve," Raoul said lovingly.

"I cannot help but wonder if it will be anything like it was two years ago," Christine thought aloud. Originally she had begun to think about Erik, but when she realized she said it aloud Christine quickly changed it to the opera's condition. "Might I suggest that we see it for ourselves, darling?" she said casually. "We only live two hours from Paris. It would make a nice change of scenery," she continued.

Raoul shut the paper and looked up at his wife. A smile was on his face and he looked almost childlike. "Actually I was thinking the very same thing. I have a business meeting in Paris the day after tomorrow so we would be killing two birds with one stone," Raoul said cheerfully. Christine knew by his tone of voice that he did not like much the idea of returning to the opera house but did not want to deny Christine the closest thing to singing she had seen in nearly two years. Often Christine theorized that the purpose behind forbidding her to sing was not to attract Erik, if he was still alive, some which Christine had no doubt. In a way, she knew the truth to his suspicions. Erik would find her if she was singing anywhere in the continental Europe, not just in France. But Christine did not deny that she longed to see her angel again, to hear his perfect voice whisper in her ear and to sing with him as he brought forth the true talent in her voice that only the Angel of Music could.

Christine kissed Raoul softly on the lips to show her thanks for allowing her to go.

VXIXV

The Vicomte and Vicomtess arrived in Paris around noon the following day. It was at Christine's insistence that they leave so early. She was thankful that Raoul slept a good deal of the way into Paris in their carriage. Excitement like she had only known once before pumped through her veins. She could hardly wait until the reassuring sight of the Opera Populaire was in view. As it turned out, the hotel they would be temporarily residing in was just two and a half blocks west of the Opera. As soon as they checked in, Christine hastily unpacked her bags. Raoul smiled at her childish ways. She was acting like a giddy little girl at Christmas. When opportunity was first made available Christine announced to her husband that she was heading down to her former home to get tickets. "Shall I escort you?" Raoul offered.

"No thank you darling," Christine replied with a tender kiss on the check. She grabbed the nearest cloak she could find, which just happened to be black, and dashed down the stairs and to her much missed home.

Christine could hardly believe how little everything had changed in her two year absence. Everything was just as she remembered. People dashed madly up and down the streets to make their appointments and strange tourists talked in their foreign tongues as they slowly passed by. The streets were crowded as always by dozens and dozens of carriages and taxies running to and fro. Every so often a lone person would wander in or out from the Opera. Christine tried her best to maintain her glee at finally returning to one of the places she once called him for so long. The season was currently fall and she was very grateful for taking a cloak with her. When Christine finally reached the Populaire, immediately she was greeted two men in expensive looking business suits. "Welcome Mademoiselle to the Opera Populaire. Are you here looking for tickets for tonight's debut show?" said the first man with auburn hair.

"Yes indeed I am," Christine replied. She assumed these two men were the new owners. They certainly strutted about liked they owned the place and their cloths were tailored in such high quality that she could do nothing but assume as much. "And, if it is not too bold to ask…" she said.

"Yes Mademoiselle?" the man replied.

"Well, when I was younger I lived here for almost 12 years. If I may be so bold… May I take a look around and see if it is indeed the way I remember it?" Christine requested. Her eyes were downcast. She knew she was certainly asking for much, but could not help herself.

"12 years you say? May I inquire your name?" the second man with inky black hair said.

"Christine de Chagny," Christine said modestly with all modesty intended.

Both men seemed to explode with excitement. "Vicomtess de Chagny? Formerly Christine Daae?" they said in unison.

"Yes Monsieurs," Christine replied.

"But of course you can. And you will get prime tickets in one of our top class boxes! Boxes 1, 3, 4, and 6 are already sold, but 2 and 5 are available," the second man said, looking eager for a business deal. Oh yes, Christine thought silently, they are very much the incarnations if Andre and Firmin…always willing to sell anything for the highest price. On the other hand, she couldn't help but laugh out loud and the bitter irony that no one had yet purchased Box 5. It was without a doubt one of the best seats in the Opera and yet no one had laid claim to it yet. She couldn't help but wonder if Erik was still residing there and claiming his box for himself. But then why would they offer it? For a few more moment she debated on Box 2 or 5. There was always the lingering idea that they had received instructions from the infamous Opera Ghost but ignored them as did Firmin and Andre. If that were so, if she chose Box 5, at least she would know the root of Erik's rage. If he was not there then there would be no fuss to be made at all. If Erik was still there, Christine couldn't help but wonder why he had not left.

"Box 5," she said firmly.

"Excellent. That leaves Box 2 for my wife and child," the first man said. "You said you wished to see the Opera House? Come this way Mademoiselle. We are deeply honored that you have taken an interest in our newly restored Opera," he said. "Oh how rude you must think us to be for not announcing ourselves properly! I am Percival deCour and this is…"

"Audrey Chapman. A pleasure to meet you," Audrey said. The two men led Christine to the doors and nodded to the gaurds to permit Christine to enter. Everything seemed the same. The staircase was the same magnificent structure it had always been with the hundreds of golden statues and paintings around it. The floors had just recently been polished and gleamed in their lustrous splendor as they always had.

Suddenly a little girl who looked to be no more than 14 years old dashed down the stairs. "Papa, have you seen Papillon?" She was dressed in a simple white blouse with a dark green skirt. Her hair was a mixture of dirty blonde and light brown which was kept in a long braid down her back, much in the same manor that Madam Giry often wore hers. Christine was vividly reminded of Meg; she often wore her long blonde hair in the same manor because it would get in the way of her training as a ballerina. She wondered what Meg and her mother were up to; how were they making a living?

"Linette where are your manors?" Percival scolded his daughter. They had an uncanny resemblance. She would have been mistaken as a female version her father had it not been for her long hair and color. Both had the same overall body structure, face structure and eye color. Linette quickly took notice of Christine and curtsied low. Christine smiled softly in return. She remembered the days when she had been her age, so full of energy and spirit and so willing to learn what anyone was willing to teach. "No I have not seen Odette. She seems to have disappeared again. You may want to check the galleria. She may be setting up her works there, or ask the conductor of the orchestra. Only the good Lord knows where she has run off to."

"I don't mean to be rude father, but who is she?" Linette pointed towards Christine.

"She is a special guest my daughter," Percival replied proudly. A wave of longing and jealousy hit Christine. Oh how she missed her father, Charles Daae. He was her best friend and father all at the same time. She would give anything in the world just to hear his voice again, or even his violin playing her favorite movement from Lazarus Resurrected, the song when he first wakes up from his sleep to see the world around him. "This is the Vicomtess de Chagny. Formerly known as Miss Christine Daae: the finest leading Soprano that the Opera Populaire had ever had. She even beat out La Carlotta," Percival said. He seemed even more proud that Christine felt. She had not purposefully meant to hurt Carlotta in the way she had, but it was just the way things turned out. If it hadn't been for Erik, Christine would still be a Chorus girl looking forward to nothing but a second Soprano part or the next big ballet scene. "Linette, would you be so kind as to show Mademoiselle de Chagny to the main theatre. I believe they are rehearsing at this moment. Act three I believe of Lazarus Resurrected?" Percival said.

"Yes father. Come this way," she said politely to Christine. She smiled and couldn't believe her luck. They were performing her favorite story as a child. As she walked, Christine could not help but look up into the rafts for a sign of Erik. A sad smile came across her face when there was nothing to be seen of him. When she came into the main theatre room Christine found that many aspects of it had changed. The stage had been rebuilt and was no longer made of rich oak but instead polished chestnut and the inwardly facing candles were now facing at the audience. The seats in the audience were of a different make and were no longer gold and crimson, but instead were silver and black. Overhead the chandelier which was once so dazzling and breathtaking had been replaced by a somewhat lesser one. Christine guessed that if it were ever to fall again, the size was reduced so the amount of damage would be less. The Baroque style nude statues were very much the same and they outlined the six upper boxes. Christine gaze immediately darted to Box 5. Nothing could be seen save for the dark red velvet curtains that engulfed the interior, as they did in the remaining 6 boxes.

Up ahead on stage a half score of people were currently dancing around on stage surrounding the main lead of Lazarus. The band stand was lowered, as it always had been and was playing the soft melodic tune that Charles Daae had always strummed with his bow on the violin. Tears began to swell in her eyes at the memories. It was Erik's favorite song to sing with her. She missed Erik so much and longed to see him again. Her thoughts where interrupted as the conducted loudly tapped his metal rod against the stage and began hollering insults at the supporting alto lines as well as shouting at the band for not getting their triplet runs correct. "ONE-LA-LI! HOW MANY TIMES MUST WE GO OVER THIS?" he shouted at the top of his lungs. "And THAT is a rest in-between the ascending and descending run! WHAT NOTE CAN YOU POSSIBLE PLAY ON A REST!" he shouted wildly while shaking his hands in the air to make his point.

(A/N: A natural. Again, if you are in the LCHS Showcase band, you know exactly what I am talking about, as well as which teacher I based this off from XD)

Christine laughed. She remembered her days of being yelled at by the conductor and managers. Even Madam Giry had a crack at her several times for singing off key, forgetting a note, or leaving out a fermata. But once her training with Erik began she was never yelled at. Immediately her position had been upgraded from last alto to 2nd Soprano and then to leading Soprano once Carlotta had left. She owed everything to Erik. "Erik…" she muttered beneath her breath.

"Pardon?" Linette said.

Christine blushed and quickly made due, "No its nothing. Why aren't you in the production?" she said, making simple and kind conversation at the lonely looking girl.

"Who, me? I am the most musically blocked person on this Earth," Linette said, blushing. "People have tried to explain it to me, but my mind cannot grasp it. No Mademoiselle, I prefer climbing up trees and tearing my stockings to singing," she smiled up at Christine. She could not help but laugh. It had been the exact opposite with Christine. She wanted nothing more than to sing with all her heart's desire and join in with her father's beautifully perfect wave of crescendos and decrescendos, arias and fermatas, in harmonics and accidentals. She knew her musical alphabet before her reading one. "My best friend, Papillon however loves music. She cannot sing but instead plays a flute. According to her it is easier to remember scores of complicated fingerings than to use her voice. She plays in the band, my father was able to get her a job," Linette said. Again for Christine it had been the opposite. She had always found her voice the easiest medium to play, although she did know the piano and violin. Her voice just seemed to suite her the best and she sung it with the most ease. Although not anymore Christine thought. She doubted that she could even hit an F without going sharp. Not singing in two years, save for alone in your room with no teacher did that to one's voice.

The conductor, up to his neck in frustration, called for a ten minute break. The cast and band members all got up to stretch their tired limbs. Out from the band stand a girl who looked to be 2-3 years older than Linette emerged. Her hair was light brown and fell in delicate curls around her shoulders. Bright blue eyes dotted her head. Now Christine understood what Linette had meant when she said that her father had gotten her the job. She wore a torn black cotton skirt with a wrinkled blouse. Strangely, her corset was worn on the outside, something Christine had never seen before, but was intricately embroidered with white lace. Her face was tarred by dirt; it was clear to see that she had no parents and had to work for herself. "Papillon I was beginning to wonder where you were," Linette said.

"Where else would I be?" she questioned with a sarcastic smile. "Who is this?" she said, looking at Christine.

"She used to perform here at the Opera. Her name is-"

"Christine Daae," Christine said. She did not wish to hear her formal title. She just wanted to relive the life she had known for so long, even if it was only for a few short hours. Again her eyes surveyed for any unnatural shadows, searching for a sign, for any sign that Erik was still alive.

Papillon's eyes widened and she said, "I can't believe it is really you! I was there when you preformed for the first time as the new Margarita. You sang beautifully. It really put La Carlotta to shame," Papillon said.

"Thank you. I cannot wait to see your new production. I will be right there tonight watching you," Christine smiled, point towards Box 5. "Your talent must be exceptional for you to already be in the Populaire band at your age," Christine complimented. Even if Linette's father had gotten her the job, there was always the audition and the conductor to please. If you weren't the best of the best no one would hesitate to replace you for someone of greater talent.

"No please, you flatter me," Papillon said.

"ODETTE STAIRE!" The conductor shouted. "This is not social hour. We are in the middle of rehearsal!'

"Yes sir," Papillon said but couldn't help but cringe at the usage of her real name.

Again rehearsals resumed and Linette led Christine out from the main theatre room and showed her the back dormitories, at Christine's request. As they traveled further and further back she noticed the young girl become more and more tense. A muscle in her check twitched occasionally and she audibly breathed louder and at more frequent intervals. "Linette, are you well?" she inquired. The girl jumped at Christine's voice but insisted that she was alright. The older woman did not believe her, but kept her thoughts to herself. If Linette did not wish to share what was troubling her, Christine would not peruse it. However as they neared the very back, the hairs on the pack of her neck puckered up. It was not dark and in fact, was very well illuminated by the dozens of candles around them and the daylight pouring in through the windows. Even the sound of the band and Chorus rehearsing was still heard booming, as was the conductor who had taken it upon himself to lecture them even more on their triplet runs. A cat scurried across the floor in front of the pair. It stopped dead in its tracks and glared up at Christine. The familiar cold liquid amber eyes shot daggers into Christine. "Ayesha…" Christine mouthed. She did not want to frighten the little girl beside her who seemed jumpy enough.

The wind began to whisper against her ears and it said "…Christine…" in the same familiar voice that she had yearned for two years. He was here and she knew it. Ayesha quickly ran up into the dark crevices that Christine knew went down to lake. Taking Linette's hand, Christine turned around and left, but the dark shadow that followed her from above the rafts did not escape her frightened eyes.

"…Christine…" the wind whispered again.

"Linette, are you alright?" Christine said again with all seriousness in her voice. The small girl looked up at the older woman with pleading eyes but nodded her head 'no'. Erik, what have you done? "Why don't we return?" Christine suggested. Linette nodded and the pair walked, although with a hastened pace down again to the main theatre.

With Linette safe again in the main room under the watchful eyes of everyone there, including her father and Mr. Chapman, who were overseeing rehearsals, Christine walked Linette to her father. Even Erik would not try anything in broad daylight in front of so many people. Christine respectfully said her goodbyes and with tickets in hand, she hastily left the Opera Populaire. The longer she remained inside, the greater danger for everyone. If Ayesha still prowled the opera house than Erik had to be near. Ayesha went wherever her master went. As Christine walked down the staircase she saw a crimson rose on the bottom step. She picked it up, weary of the thorns, and fingered the black velvet ribbon that had been tied around its stem. Christine reached inside of her cloak and pulled out the simple golden ring that Erik had given her. She clutched it with all her might and let a solitary tear slide down her face. Slowly and careful so as no one would hear her she muttered, "Erik…I'm so sorry…I love you". Even if Erik had heard it, Christine did not care. Looking up again, she saw without a doubt, the familiar tall shadow in the rafts that blended in with the surrounding dark.

MXIXVIXIM

END CHAPTER

Well what do you think? Again, I do not like Raoul so I hope I offended no one, but still tried to keep in him character enough. This won't be one of those stories where Raoul is a senseless wife-beater (unfortunately there are too many of those). Raoul actually dose care for Christine, even if I don't like him.

Erik all the way!

Read and Review. Please…pretty please with sugar and a cherry on top