Rehearsals had run much smoothly with the new diva. Christine was absolutely ecstatic; she was finally living her dream! Once Madame Giry had helped Christine out of her costume, she smiled fondly at her and kissed her forehead.

"Now is your time to shine, my dear. You will do beautifully."

Her face still flushed with excitement, Christine smiled. "Thank you, Antoinette. Do you think maybe Father had something to do with this?" she asked innocently.

She noticed the smile falter a little on Madame Giry's face.

"I know that he would be very proud of you, Christine. Now, you must come and eat. You will need your strength for tonight."

"Oh," Christine replied. "I was going to rest for a bit. I'm a little fatigued…"

Christine tried to hide her lie by rubbing her eyes and giving a small yawn.

"Of course, dear. I'll have something saved for you then."

With that, Madame Giry left and Christine was alone in Carlotta's dressing room. Whenever something spectacular happened to her, which was not very often, she always believed Madame Giry knew more about her circumstances than herself. However, she was sure that she knew nothing of her Angel. When he had first come to her, Christine spoke not a word of him to anyone.

Even as she thought this, it sounded a little crazy. The Angel of Music came to her…not in a dream, not in a vision, but through voice. When her father died, and she thought all hope was lost, it was then that she heard him. His voice had been soft and comforting, and she embraced it with on open heart.

Christine remembered it as if it was yesterday…

She had just run up the stairs to the dormitories and flung her tearstained face into her pillow. Ballet practice had been absolutely dreadful. None of the girls liked her, other then Meg, and one of the older dancers, Cosette, had made her look like a complete fool.

"Why did you leave me, daddy! Why!" She was sobbing uncontrollably now. "You promised me you would send him to me! Where is the Angel of Music?"

She sat there alone for a good hour, crying, until she was completely exhausted. Just as she was about to close her eyes and drift into a dreamless sleep, she heard a voice singing softly. At first, Christine thought she had imagined it since she had so desperately wanted to hear him. But the voice grew louder and she recognized the song as an old lullaby her father had once sung to her.

She sat up with a start, looking around the room for the source. It was completely empty, and her eyes widened with both fear and joy.

When the song had finished, the deep, soothing voice asked, "My dear child, why do you cry?"

"Who's there? Who are you?" she whispered.

"I am your Angel of Music."

"My Angel? You have not forgotten me then?" She asked hopefully, wiping away a tear.

Christine got up from her place on the bed and knelt on the floor.

"No, my dear. I am here now, do not cry."

"Oh Angel! I have prayed for you to come to me every night! Did my father send you?"

The voice chuckled softly. "Yes, child, and he has great expectations for you. He tells me that you wish to sing…"

Christine's face lit up. "Oh yes! I want to sing in front of all Paris one day!"

"And you shall. I will teach you, but you must understand that there will be great responsibilities. Will you be able to follow my instructions?" he cautioned.

"I promise."

"Very good. Your first responsibility is to let no one else know that I have come to you. This must be our secret."

"I understand…Angel?" Christine asked.

"Yes child?"

"How come I can't see you?"

For a few moments there was complete silence, and Christine was afraid that he had gone. Did she offend him? Tears swelled again in her eyes. He had come to her, wasn't that enough? No, she had to ask for more…

"Angel?" her voice quaked.

"In time, my dear, you shall know me…"

Christine kept that promise in the back of her mind. Never again did she question him with ignorant questions, but complied with his strict orders. Rarely did he praise her efforts, and when he did, he did not allow her enough time to dawn on those praises. He immediately demanded more from her.

Through his guidance, Christine grew more confident in her abilities; but the days past and the only stage time she received was in the chorus. It was beginning to become her comfort zone and all the more she secretly began to doubt her moment in the spotlight.

But now was her time! Her moment had come! She couldn't wait to tell her Angel, though he probably already knew. He knew everything about her, her every waking moment…he was even there in her dreams, though she could never see his face.

Christine sat in front of the vanity and began to brush her long, brown curls. As she stared at her reflection, she began to notice that her young, childish features were diminishing. Where she was once slightly stout in some places, she had now thinned out, with more distinctive feminine curves.

Perhaps Raoul would not have recognized her, she barely recognized herself! The thought of her childhood friend brought a small smile to her lips. She had missed Raoul greatly, his very presence this morning brought memories of her father flooding back into her mind. He had changed for the better, from once a thin, wiry boy to a handsome young Vicomte. No doubt he was already engaged to a woman of wealth and nobility.

Her smile faltered. Why did it matter to her what happened to him? Her life was here now, and her love and devotion belonged to her Angel.

"And what brings this frown to your face, my child? Have you not received the leading role this night?" The musical voice of her Angel asked.

Christine looked up with delight. "Oh Angel, it's not that. I am singing the lead tonight! I thought it would please you?"

"It pleases me greatly. You are ready, Christine. Tonight, all of Paris will love you."

She felt a blush creep into her cheeks and she looked down at the brush in her hands. "Thank you, Master."

There was an uncomfortable moment of silence until the Angel spoke again. "What ails you, Christine? You are not yourself today…"

Sometimes it truly unnerved her that her Angel knew her deepest thoughts.

"Nothing is wrong. I'm just nervous, I guess."

"Christine, you have always confided in me. Am I suddenly untrustworthy?"

Their seemed to be a note of hurt in his voice and Christine almost winced. She felt terribly guilty.

"Well, Monsieur Lefevre announced his retirement…and with that he introduced our new managers…" she began.

"Yes, those two fools who claim to understand the concepts of music…"

Christine frowned for a moment, but then chuckled softly. His disliking, however, seemed a bit too human.

"They also introduced the new patron. The Vicomte de Changy is an old childhood friend, and…I was only disappointed…that he had not noticed me." She struggled to get her words out.

She spoke quietly, expecting sympathy, but his reaction had completely thrown her off guard. At first it was deathly silent and then…

"I will not tolerate pathetic earthly distractions that you humans refer to as courtship and the like!"

His unexpected rage had rendered her speechless. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end and she was actually shaking. Never, never had he expressed such anger toward her. His words pierced her heart. She had been set in her place simply by him referring to her as a human.

"I…forgive me, Angel…my soul is weak…please forgive me…" Christine spoke meekly; her head bowed, and tears swelling.

"Christine, Christine…" He had almost sung her name. "I find that I must remind myself that you are prone to temptation…I shall give you another chance to prove to me your fidelity."

Christine looked up brightly and smiled. "I swear, I swear on my life that I will no longer disappoint you!"

"Will you Christine? I must have more than your word…I must have your heart."

"You have my heart, Angel, always…"

Unbeknownst to Christine and her heavenly visitor, Meg stood outside the dressing room door listening to their conversation. She gave a weary sigh and shook her head. She had only come to speak with Christine and to see if she was all right. Meg had no intentions of eavesdropping, but when she heard the distinct voice of a man, she need not guess who Christine spoke with.

From the sounds of their discussions, Meg feared that this time Christine had sold her soul to the devil. She quietly crept away from the door and headed for the dormitories…