Disclaimer: I do not own the Erik, Christine, or any other characters mentioned. All I own is the plot.

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

Enjoy!

Chapter 7

"Is this everyone? Then we shall start w—"

"Wait, Monsieur Gabriel, one more!" Meg shouted as she held the door open for Christine, who flew in.

"Ah, Mademoiselle, next time we shall start without you. Lateness is equivocal to disinterest. And I do not wish for anyone who is not interested in giving 300 percent as Prima Donna." M.Gabriel then addressed all the Prima hopefuls, "Have I made myself clear to you all? If you don't want to work, don't bother auditioning."

Except for a few chorus girls who left, everyone stayed ready to prove that they could handle being Prima Donna.

Olivier then turned to Christine, "Since you decided to arrive late, you can show the others how it's done."

Christine took her place on stage, and mentally prepared herself to sing while the other hopefuls took seats in the theatre.

Once everyone was settled in, M. Gabriel instructed Christine to begin when she was ready.

Christine took a deep breath and began singing. After a few bars, Olivier cut her off with, "That will be fine, Mlle. Daae, please take a seat."

Christine stayed and listened to her competition. Some M. Gabriel cut off quickly because they were unbearable to listen to; many sounded as if they were trying to sing like La Carlotta, they were also dismissed. It seemed as though she was a shoe-in as Prima Donna. But there was one last singer left.

She took a place on the stage, took a couple of breaths as though to steady herself, then began.

Christine could not find a thing to fault her on. Her tone was exquisite, her posture, her breathing, all seemed to flow with the song. Yet there was something familiar about the way the girl approached the song, but Christine couldn't quite figure out what it was.

When the girl finished, Christine politely applauded her like everyone else, her mind was whirling with questions she needed answers to. M. Gabriel dismissed them, saying that he would post the Prima Donna's name on his office door.

Christine caught the strange singer before she took off to her room.

"I couldn't help but notice the way you sang." Christine said, "How did you learn to sing like that?"

"The same way you did," She answered. "through a passion for my craft; the rest fell into place from there."

Christine frowned in thought then asked, "Yes, but who taught you to sing like that?"

"You should be able to tell me, Mlle. Daae."

Before Christine could ask the girl anything else, she ran off to join her friends, leaving Christine to think.

"It can't be. He couldn't have chosen someone to replace me that quickly. He swore that no matter what he'd love me forever." She thought.

"How did it go?" Meg asked when Christine entered in the ballet dormitories, "You're a shoe-in for Prima Donna, because after all you did have the title for one season more than any of the others can say. I'm sorry I didn't stay to watch but all of the Carlotta copycats were starting to deafen me."

"It's all right, but that means you missed my only real competition for the role." Christine said.

"You mean that there was someone else who sang as well as you can? Who is she? Did she work here last season? Did you ask her where she learned to sing?"

"Yes, I didn't catch her name, but I do recognize her, so she must have worked here before. When I asked her how she learned to sing she said something about passion. Then when I asked her who taught her she answered that I should be able to tell her. I have a feeling that he's chosen another pupil."

Meg looked at the ground and started to rock on her heels. Christine noticed and asked her, "What do you know, Meg? I know you; there's something you're not telling me. Spit it out."

"Oh, Christine, Maman didn't want me to tell you but I feel like I have to now. After the ruckus at the Opera, Maman continued to visit your Angel up until about a week ago he was always there; then one day it was like he just vanished there was nothing to show he was living there anymore. So you see, he couldn't have taken on another pupil, not without everyone noticing."

Christine felt faint, Meg saw her start to sway and guided her to her bed, where Christine sat like an old rag doll.

"So he's totally packed up and left here? Where could he have gone? He can't have gone, he couldn't have!" Christine was frantic.

Meg laid her on the bed and felt her forehead. "Christine, you went down to the cellars again to try and find him, didn't you? You're burning up! You've got to take care of yourself or else how are you possibly going to survive a season as Prima Donna? Get some rest I'll tell Maman you're sick."

Meg turned off Christine's light and shut the door. Christine did not allow herself to sleep; however, she stared at the ceiling repeating the phrase: "He's gone…" in her head.

Now to Madame Giry

"Meg! Why are you late? Surely you had to know that practice started an hour ago!" Mdm. Giry shouted at her when Meg entered. "And where is Christine?"

"Christine is sick, Maman, she's flushed and says her stomach is aching her." Meg answered as she took her place at the bar.

"Are you sure? The two of you are known for your made up illnesses in order to get out of practice…"

"Maman, I think she's really sick this time. You can see for yourself when we're done here."

Madame Giry picked up on her daughter's expression so she restarted the girls at the bar again. It was going to be a long day.

And back to Christine…

Christine had fallen asleep soon after Meg had left the room.

As she started to wake up she felt something cool on her forehead. She did not remember falling asleep with anything near her face except the pillow. She could hear someone shuffling around her room.

"Who's there? If you don't tell me who you are I shall start screaming. I have nothing of value here I swear to you—"

"Calm down, it's just me, Olivier, remember? Madame Giry asked me to look in on you, something about you being sick. You had a pretty high fever, Mlle. Daae, hence the rag. Would you like some soup? It may make you feel better."

Christine was taken aback by his caring for her. He'd not yet even once made more than a friendly advance; something Christine was sure any other man would try. She blushed with embarrassment when she realized that she had both been staring at him and leaving his question unanswered.

"Soup sounds lovely, Olivier."

"Is beef and onion soup all right? It's the only one I was able to make."

"Yes, I remember my father used to make it for me often. He swore it was an elixir for anything." Christine answered as he handed her a bowl of the warm soup.

She tried a bite and found it to be as delicious as she remembered.

"Where did you learn to cook? This is divine! Just like I remember father used to make."

"I'm actually self-taught; Mlle. Mdm. Giry told me it was one of your favorites.

"Oh." Christine answered at a loss for anything else to say.

They ate in companionable silence, breaking it every so often to ask the other a question about the other's life.

When Sleep finally claimed Christine, Olivier blew out the candle and whispered, "Thank you for your company tonight, Christine, you are truly an angel among those here. It is truly a shame your fiancé couldn't see that. He'll never hit you again, I promise you that."

Then he shut the door behind him and came face to face with Madame Giry.

"I trust you took good care of her. How is she?"

"She still has a slight fever, but she did eat when she awoke. You were correct in your advisement that I make beef and onion soup. I've never seen her eat so much…"

"Should I warn Mlle. Daae that she has a stalker?" Mdm. Giry asked teasingly.

Olivier blushed and returned to his quarters humming a tune from Hannibal.

The next morning

When Christine awoke the next morning, the first thing she saw was that Msr. Gabriel had tidied her room for her. She also saw the white box that contained the wedding dress.

"I forgot about that, I guess Olivier thought I was keeping it." She thought as she got out of bed. "One last peek…"

When she lifted the lid, the box was empty.

"He must have hung it up thinking it was a costume for the Masque coming up." She thought.

She opened the door to her closet and gasped.

"That's not the dress I bought. But how is it possible that the dresses were switched without my knowledge? Not even Meg knows about it…"

A/N: You all know the drill. Review!

TNC,

Writer Muse