Disclaimer: I do not own the Erik, Christine, or any other characters mentioned. All I own is the plot. Song owned by Michelle Branch.

A/N: Thank you to those who have reviewed! Hands out red roses tied with black ribbons.

Enjoy!

Chapter 5

"Christine! Where did you sneak off to? No one knew where you'd gone. Tell someone the next time you leave; I had expected the worst."

"Raoul, I've told you before. I can handle myself in the city. I was a chorus girl after all; it was a requirement then to be able to go shopping or wherever and come back or Madame Giry would have had our heads."

"That's just it, Christine, you are no longer a chorus girl or Prima Donna at the Opera anymore. You are, however my fiancée and the future Vicomtess DeChagny. So when I tell you to take someone with you or tell someone where you are going, I expect you to comply."

"What happened to the Raoul who sang sweet nothings in my ear on the roof of the Opera?" Christine thought to herself. "When did he become such a task master? Was it after he met him or had he always been that way and I failed to notice because I was blinded by a childhood fantasy?"

"Raoul, I apologize next time I'll alert the whole of Paris when I go out on errands or to visit friends." Christine answered coldly.

"Didn't I agree to marry him so I could have free—"

Christine crumpled as the back of Raoul's hand contacted her face.

"Don't you speak to me like that, Christine Daae. I am your husband, and I would like you to speak to me like we are among society. If something like that slipped out of your mouth while we are frequenting in polite soc—"

"And what about me?" Christine answered angrily, "I deserve an apology for what you just did. I'm you're wife, for God's sake, not one of your incompetent servants!"

"Chris—"

"No, Raoul, you've said your piece now it's my turn. Where is the freedom you promised me? Where is my hope? You promised you'd love me for who I am not who I used to be. And yet you can't seem to get this illusion of "Little Lotte" out of your head. You know, I bumped into a gentleman on the way home today. I asked him how one would know if they were truly in love. As he explained his definition of true love I thought about our relationship. It just doesn't match up anymore, Raoul. It just doesn't."

"I'm so sorry, Christine, I never realized that you needed me to explain why I'm so overly protective; it's just that I don't want to lose you again."

"It's to late for apologies, Monsieur, I'm through being a statue that you won, stuck on a pedestal, and never touched again because you want to protect me. I'm finished with acting like I like the people who you have deemed worthy to frequent in your circles. They're all odious; they'll say one thing to your face and another when they think you're out of earshot. I'm tired of being unable to sing just because you don't want to remember the Opera. And most of all, I'm tired of faking like I love you!"

Raoul, unable to think of anything to say, backhanded her on the opposite cheek. But this time Christine would not allow herself to crumple in weakness. She maintained her stance when he slapped her, a defiant look etched across her face.

"Is that all you can do? Slap me? The woman you lured into marriage by false pretenses. I don't care anymore, especially since I finally realized that I cannot truly love you." Christine slipped off her engagement ring, threw it as hard as she could at his face, grabbed her things (which she had packed the night before), and left.

Raoul finally found words and yelled after her, "Fine, Christine, do what you want, but when you return don't expect me to welcome you with open arms."

Christine called back in reply, "When have you ever welcomed me with open arms?"

Christine took off from the DeChagny Chateau for the Opera Populaire, with any luck she could at least get herself a spot in the chorus, because it was the only other home she knew.

She walked up to the doors and read the sign typed in bold print: "Female Chorus auditions today. All interested sign in right inside the door and proceed to the stage. We will call you to audition eventually."

"I guess they're pretty desperate for singers especially now with the Opera's newly acquired reputation." Christine thought, "Maybe they will take me back if they're desperate."

She followed the sign's instructions and proceeded to the stage area. When the managers saw her they paled, but Firmin told her to put her things down in the orchestra pit.

"And what is it that you will be singing, Mlle. Daae, or is it Vicomtess now?" Andre asked her.

"Mlle. Daae. Actually, I'm not sure of the title of it, Messrs. It's a song my father used to sing to me."

"Well, then, you can begin when you are ready."

Christine took a steadying breath and began:

"When you're all alone
And you need a light
Someone to guide you
Through the night
Just remember that
I am here
To hold you close and
Dry your tears…"

"That's fine, Mlle. Daae, welcome back to the Opera Populaire." Firmin said.

"Where will I be staying?" Christine asked.

"We thought that was unspoken. You're old room of course."

"There's no way I can switch rooms?"

"No, none of the returning chorus or ballet girls will go near the room for fear that the Phantom lives."

Christine sighed, "Fine, whatever." And grabbed her things and headed to her old room to unpack.

When she left Andre leaned over to Firmin and asked, "Did you see the bruises on her face? What do you think happened? God willing, hopefully it wasn't him."

A/N: The lovers' square is still intact. Raoul won't give up on Christine even with his tough talk. Would y'all like longer chapters?

All you constructive criticizers and impatient readers, you know the drill. Review!

TNC,

Writer Muse