Chapter Two:

"And what's your name?" Christine asked sweetly. I was still at a loss of words, I had heard heaven name itself for me. Oh, and how her rose red lips moved majestically when she spoke. I knew how Romeo had felt when he first caught a glimpse of the fair lady Juliet.

"...um...Erik," I stuttered. Christine only giggled and stroked my hair, her cool fingers daintily brushing from my brow to the back of my head. I'm starting to believe that I had died from that fight and was now resting on a cotton cloud with a wingless goddess.

"That's such a beautiful name, did your mother give you it?" her voice sang.

"...err...n-n-no...m-m-my father d-d-did, it's been...um...passed down g-g-generation to g-g-generation," I couldn't get my words out; I was trapped in those crystal eyes of my savior.

"Wow, same here. We seem to have so much in common." She seemed to have an urgent question bubbling inside her. "By the way, why do you wear that mask over your face? Do you play the Phantom in 'The Phantom of the Opera' in the theatre just down town?"

My heaven crumbled. How was I supposed to explain my hideous infection? What a minute...Phantom of the Opera, what was that? Is there a character that wears the same devilish mask as I do?

"...sure...I mean yeah...I-I-I play the...phantom," I said cautiously. Who was this phantom and why does he supposedly look like me?

"You know the Christine in the play?" she asked excitedly. I was in too deep, saying I was in the play was a terrible mistake. But I just kept going deeper; I nodded my head pretending even more. Quick sand felt as if it was pulling me under and suffocating me.

"Well, I'm a descendant of Christine Daae, she's my great great grandmother. Isn't that amazing, the characters in that play actually existed. And to add to it, my boyfriend is named Raoul." Christine giggled. I couldn't understand the joke, but it didn't matter. Her bright cherry cheeks glowed when she laughed, and that's all that I cared about. For some reason I could feel my face grow hotter as I watched her twirl around happily. My face went beet red when my stomach let out a long, low rumble.

"Oh dear," I said under my breath. "Not now, be quiet." Desperately trying to shut my stomach up, I punched it a few times. Unfortunately, Christine had heard my stomach complaining and she turned towards me.

"How rude of me," she said. "You must be half starved. Hold on, I'll get you something to eat." I tried to protest but seeing her slim body slink into the kitchen took my breath away. She glided down the hallway with such grace and poise, simply magnificent. Wait, what did she say about a boyfriend?

"I hope you like vegetable soup," she poked her beautiful head from around the side of a door and grinned. Just the thought of anything edible made my head spin. Christine was a bit of eye candy too, I kept having these thoughts of…oh my, I think my pants are shrinking.

Anyway, my perverted thoughts were demolished by the scrumptious odor escaping from the kitchen. Christine slowly strolled into the room I lay in with a huge bowl of steaming soup. She placed it on a table next to the bed and felt my head again.

"You feel a tad warmer," she said worriedly. I had a feeling my elevated temperature wasn't from any illness. My little guardian angel sat on the bed next to me and brought a spoonful of soup to my lips. It was the most delectable thing I had ever tasted in my life. Ever since I could remember I had always eaten out of the garbage, even when my father was still with me.

"Erik, where are your parents?" Christine's question startled me. Had this woman read my mind? What was I to tell her?

"Well…you see…um…h-h-he's…," I couldn't come up with a lie so fast, my thoughts had escaped me due to the presents of this princess. The only response I could conjure up was the truth. "He abandoned me a while back, I believe he's dead." Thoughts of my dear father pounded into my skull. My ravenous appetite left me and my gaze fell to the ground.

"And your mother?"

She had hit below the belt now; that was a question I hoped she'd forget to ask. My vision went blurry as tears formed. I am such a sap when it comes to touchy subjects. I could feel Christine's smooth hands lift my head as she fixed her eyes on me.

"I-I-I…never sniff m-m-met my…," my sentence trailed off as I burst out crying. The café angel wrapped her arms around me and let me hide my face in her bosom. I would have enjoyed this moment so much more if it hadn't been for the whole crying thing.

Strange, letting out my misery like this is making me so peaceful and sleepy. I can't seem to stay awake…