A shorter chapter, but I believe I will have one more update today...

Nico

Christine nervously twisted her hands, feeling incredibly alone in the world as she stood on the stage, the opening chords of the main aria from Hannibal, 'Think of Me' begining to resonate through the auditorium.

Vaguely, she could make out silhouettes of small groups of people sitting as audience members. She knew that Raoul was there, sitting beside Monsieurs Firmin and Andre, silently supporting her. She could see Madame Giry standing backstage with Meg, both nodding enthusiastically, thrilled for Christine's chance to impress those who were obviously about to judge her performance.

Christine took a deep breath, trying desperately to will the images of Erik from her mind. The pianist who accompanied her now was no where near as amazing as Erik; his rendition of Think of Me was mechanical…no variations on the composition existed…it was painfully bland.

For a moment, Christine feared that her voice was only captivating when she sang alongside of the mysterious man she had not seen in nearly a week.

But as soon as the first note escaped her lips, the catty whispering of the ballerinas in the audience stopped and an immediate and undeniable feeling of exhilaration came over everyone within earshot.

Including Erik.

He lifted his head slightly, allowing the small ray of light that was creeping through the vents to illuminate his white-as-snow mask. He paused in the narrow passageway, completely unprepared for the glorious assault of Christine's voice on his senses.

He had fought hard to block the memory of her sweet voice, how they had melded into one seemingly perfect entity where neither time nor space could be deciphered.

But now, whenhe was least prepared for it,the allure was unavoidable, as was the possessiveness that suddenly swelled within Erik's breast.

Who was she singing for?

Christine knew she held her audience in the palm of her hand. And so, as every artist must, she pushed the envelope, performing a series of staccato notes that caused the pianist to pause in his playing, allowing her crystal voice to be heard by itself.

Finally, when the second to last note came, Christine surged an octave higher, piercing the tune with a chill-inspiring arrow that was unmistakably the work of a vocal genius.

For several moments after the music stopped, complete silence was the only thing to be heard.

And then came the rapturous applause that seemed to shake the very stage Christine was standing on.

Graciously, she curtsied. Then, feeling her knees wobble, left the stage, caught in a series of tight hugs and words of praise by the Giry women who had been just as enthralled as everyone else who had heard.

"Where in the world have you been hiding?" Meg was gushing. "Really…you were perfect!"

Christine merely nodded weakly, the thin line of sweat on her brow evidence of her exertion.

"I only wish I knew her secret!" Meg continued, this time speaking to her mother. Then, turning back to the statuesque brunette added, "You must have a new tutor."

Christine felt her cheeks burn. "I…I…" she stammered, trying to untwist her tongue as she thought of her stolen moments with Erik.

Meg suddenly smiled. "I think I know where this sudden, magnificent new side to Christine comes from!" She took Christine's arm, spinning her around playfully.

"What are you talking about, Meg?" Christine asked, alarmed.

Meg tsked her tongue, forcing her lower lip out in a mock-pout. "Oh, dearest Christine! Don't lie to me, your best friend! I know who this mysterious man is that is introducing this entirely new side of you to us!"

Christine blanched. "You do?" She asked meekly.

Meg nodded. "Don't play coy, Christine." She said, still smiling. "You put on a good act the other day…you even convinced me that you were meeting the Vicomte for the first time."

Relief flooded into Christine's very soul. "Oh," she breathed. "You mean Raoul."

"Ah, so I see you're on a first name basis," Meg teased.

"Christine."

The three women turned to the new voice, watching as Raoul gallantly approached the stage, taking the side stairwell two steps at a time.

He immediately approached Christine, taking both her hands into his and kissing them.

"My God," he said as he raised his smiling eyes to hers. "You sounded like an angel."

Christine smiled, but inwardly her stomach clenched at the compliment.

It sounded too much like…

Like Erik.

Meg and her mother had graciously left her standing alone with Raoul. Christine watched as her friend winked at her over her shoulder.

Raoul suddenly pulled Christine into the folds of the stage's velvet curtains, hiding her momentarily from the applauding Firmin and Andre who were awkwardly making their way from their seats to the stage.

"Raoul, what are you doing?" Christine gasped, surprised to feel his hand on her waist. "The managers…they're coming."

"Let them come," Raoul said, his voice suddenly dropping into a whisper. He pulled one of her hands to his heart, pressing it earnestly. "Your voice," he said quietly. "It truly touched me."

Christine watched, wondering why she felt horrified as Raoul's perfectly formed lips approached hers.

Then suddenly, a rattling from above caused both Raoul and Christine to jerk their heads upwards.

Christine barely saw the enormous scenery flat crashing down before everything went black.