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

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Chapter 9

"Christine! I need to speak with you after practice!" Olivier shouted over a practicing orchestra.

Christine responded, "When did I become Christine to you, M. Gabriel? And if it's about your choice for Prima Donna I've made my peace with the fact that I'm not the only one who can out-sing La Carlotta."

"It's not about that, it's about something else that I'd rather not discuss with prying ears about."

"So then can we discuss this later? I haven't yet mastered the ability to carry on a conversation and learn a new opera at the same time."

"All right, have it your way, Christine." Olivier responded as he returned to helping Louise get the right pitch for her part as Desdemona in Verdi's Otello.

Christine was to play Emilia, Desdemona's chambermaid and also the extra role of a Cypriot townswoman.

"From the top then, Mlle. Louise, and can you please try to put some emotion into it? You sound disinterested; why are you unable to get into proper character today? You had it completely well-sung during the practice yesterday."

"I don't know, Monsieur, she just doesn't seem as alive. I mean, this Willow Song is sodepressing. Why couldn't you have picked a more comedic Opera for the beginning of the new season? It doesn't bode well to start off with a tragedy."

"Are you superstitious, Louise? Is that why you're so jumpy about singing in this Opera? You were fine with singing the aria of Elissa in Hannibal. And that's no comedy, either. I'm surprised that you don't have a superstition about that. Can you just sing the solo can we move on with the scene?" Christine asked her.

"I don't appreciate you mocking me, Mlle Daae. I know that you are jealous because you've finally realized that you can't amount to much without a masked lover in the wings killing anyone who gets in your way."

Meg dancing with the other ballet girls winced. She knew she forgot to mention that to Christine. She knew Louise had touched a nerve with Christine.

"I hope Christine gives that little brat an earful." Meg thought, "Louise needs to be shown her place. Suddenly Louise has let the position go to her head. What happened to her friendliness?"

"How dare you! My masked lover knows talent when he hears it, or else he'd have never tried to tutor me. I don't even know why I'm trying to explain myself to you because it doesn't matter what I say; you'll still hold the same opinion of me. Oh, and by the way, you shouldn't talk about things that have happened; especially if your facts come from chorus girl gossip."

"Is it true that he's not even a man but a beast, Christine? I've heard he has a face even a mother can't love."

If Christine hadn't been on a short fuse already that morning, she may have let Louise's comment go. But since she wasn't, she jumped the Prima Donna with both fists flying, raging in between punches, "TAKE-THAT-BACK!"

Monsieur Gabriel, Meg, and everyone else on stage immediately leapt to pull the two apart. When order was finally restored, Monsieur Gabriel announced, "I think that's all for today. Practice your lines tonight for I expect to have a flawless rehearsal tomorrow. Christine, if you could come with me so I can speak with you privately."

"I hope he sacks her." Louise whispered to the others.

Meg, finally fed up with her attitude, backhanded her and said, "Don't you dare insult Christine again. I'll have you know she never spoke a word against you, let alone go trying to drudge up your past skeletons. With any luck M. Gabriel will sack you. But to paraphrase you: I can only hope."

With that, Meg stormed off to her room, leaving an extremely stupefied Prima Donna in her wake.

"Christine, is there anything going on that I should know about?" M. Gabriel asked her, trying to figure out how to put what he was about to say.

"What do you mean by 'anything'?" Christine said curiously.

"Trouble in general, that little dispute you and Louise had, a stalker perhaps, room issues…I don't know; you just seem like you need someone to listen to you."

"Monsieur, I mean no disrespect, but I have plenty of people who I can turn to that would listen to me."

"Name me one who had no part in the Opera when your tutor was training you. Or name me one who can remain objective, even when you mention the Phantom or what happened between you and Raoul." He told her.

He allowed Christine a chance to think of someone before he continued, "There is no one, is there? So why won't you let me fill that position. What could it hurt?"

Christine wanted to say something about that, since she knew that he harbored feelings for her, but since they were mutual she didn't, "You've proven your point, M. Gabriel."

He interrupted her to say, "Please call me Olivier," he pushed open the doors to the Opera and stepped out, "Since we are no longer in the Opera house."

He then offered her his arm, which she accepted and they proceeded to stroll around heading to no locale in particular.

Olivier prompted her to continue, "You were saying?"

"Olivier, you probably have heard all of the myths concerning my tutor, correct?"

He nodded in assent.

"What you haven't heard is that the so-called Phantom was nothing more than a man who believed he was owed something because of his greatly disfigured face. He was an incredibly brilliant composer, though, and he was extremely skilled in the art of illusion. The only crime he can be accused of was being obsessively in love with me, Christine Daae, who at the time he found me was nothing but a chorus girl."

"Did you love him? Your tutor, that is."

"I suppose in a strange way I did. But that ended quickly, or so I thought. When he took me into his lair that first time, it was musical bliss. But the next morning I ruined it by becoming too curious about what he was hiding behind the mask. I ripped it off but I couldn't find the Angel of Music. All I could see was the distortion of his face."

"Were you ever able to see him as your Angel of Music again? Or could you only see what he probably never wanted you ever to see?"

"I was eventually able to see my Angel, but for some reason I could not see him in the same light I'd seen him when he first came to me. Why all these questions about him? You've never asked before."

"I apologize if my questions are intrusive in any way but it's hard to differentiate between fact and fiction when all you have to go on are the myths. It seems as though you were the only person who really knew him."

"But I really only knew him as my Angel, and then as the Phantom.I never knew him as a person."

"Do you regret that Christine?"

"Every day, and again, why the sudden interest? Listening works both ways."

"Would you think I was crazy if I told you that he addressed me in my room last night? He asked-no, more like demanded-to know why you were not selected Prima Donna and threatened to do the same thing to Louise that he did to La Carlotta, that is if I translated his semantics correctly."

"No, you're not crazy. In fact last night I got a visit from him as well. I regret to mention that our conversation boiled down to who was more wronged." Christine said.

"So you think he has returned."

"I believe he probably has, I knew he couldn't stay away for long. Monsieur, please, don't tell anyone about him. I'd like the chance to try to talk with him first."

"Don't worry, I'll keep silent. Just please promise me that you will come to me if he won't listen to you. I'd rather not have a repeat performance of last season, especially if we can prevent it. Wow, look at the time! I didn't realize it was getting to be this late. I'd better get you back to the Opera house so that you won't incur Madame Giry's wrath."

"I'll race you." Christine said.

"All right, you're on."

They both took off down the street, laughing as they raced.

A man slipped out of the shadows with a notebook in hand.

He muttered to himself, "Well, well, well, what do we have here?"

Then he walked toward the Opera house, also, dreaming of what he would do with the money from the fat paycheck he'd get for what he found out.

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

TNC,

Writer Muse