A.N: Yes, an update! Woo hoo! Alas, this isn't the big chapter I was hoping for. I put quite a bit of detail into this chapter, and it took 10 handwritten pages to fit 2-3 hours. So, the big, special chapter is chapter 13… Sorry. But! This one is good too! I've taken all of you nice people's comments and turned them into this chapter. Hopefully it has the love of the old chapters, but the sophisticatedness of the chapters you expected. So, I dedicate this to all of my hawd-core fans. I 3 you all! huggle

Chapter Twelve: The Venice Opera

Three months after she had left Paris, Sarine had never felt better. She was the star of the Venice Opera House, her stage fright was gone, and an octave was added to her register. Having the starring role in Venice could get her any part at any opera house. She had pushed all painful thoughts from her mind. Even though, she still cried at night when she thought of how alone she was now.

A knock came to her dressing room door, and Jonathan came in.

"My dear, are you ready for the opera?" he said, rubbing Sarine's shoulders.

Sarine smiled up at him, then looked at herself in the mirror. The light blue dress she was wearing was gorgeous. There were little dark blue sequins along the hem, causing a snowdrift-like pattern. Her hair was curled and pulled loosely up, some still falling about her bare shoulders. She adjusted the straps, which loosely lay on her shoulders. Adding a bit of blush, she finally was satisfied with her appearance. She smiled at Jonathan in the mirror.

"When am I not ready for the opera?"

Jonathan laughed as Sarine stood up. He remembered the time three months ago when Sarine would only sing for Erik. Now her voice was available for all of Venice. He knew she missed him, he could always see it in her eyes. Whenever she smiled, it was genuine, but it never reached her eyes. He knew the events had changed her, and he wished above all things to have the old Sarine back.

As they walked down to stage level, Sarine greeted various cast and crew members. Jonathan was relieved the heartbreak didn't hurt her friendliness. She was always very cordial to people she met. At stage level, Jonathan said goodbye and Sarine took her opening place on the stage. Smiling as the curtain drew up, she realized, as she always did at this moment, that she was meant for the stage.

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After the show, Sarine stood outside her dressing room, accepting flowers from the dozens of men admirers. She accepted them graciously, paying only half attention to the men giving them. Her mind was on her performance, and how she had messed up in the third act. After all the men had gone, she went into her room and began the task of placing the flowers in vases. She went through them one by one, placing the small, individual flowers in groups in the vases. The work, like accepting the flowers, was autonomous. She was paying very little attention, until she came upon a single red rose.

Sarine has gotten many roses such as this one, yet that was before her opera career had begun. The single, long-stemmed rose was the deep, rich red of her memory. The black satin ribbon near the bud made her shiver as tears came to her eyes. The wet sadness fell onto the note attached, blurring the name written on top: Sweet Sarine.

Slowly she unfolded the thick parchment, more tears reaching her eyes as she recognized the elegant handwriting. Afraid that she would break down if she kept them silent, she read the words aloud.

My Dearest Sarine,

I felt so proud when I saw you on the stage, so fearless. I always knew you could do it. And the Venice Opera House? I never expected less.

I had hoped to congratulate you in private, but I see you have gained many admirers in your three-month career. As I've said, I couldn't be more proud.

I hope you were planning on attending the masquerade ball tomorrow night. I was planning to attend. I even brought an old costume to celebrate.

I hope you are willing to let me explain a few things. When I saw you leave on that boat, I feared I would never find you again. Now that I have, I'm not as willing to let you go again. It's hard to, when you have my heart. My entire heart.

Love always,

Erik

Sobbing, Sarine pressed the note against her heart, as if pressing it there would make all the pain go away. She knew she still loved him. He inspired her song, making her soar higher than a bird. She knew that he loved her back. He really was at the dock when they left.

And yet, there was still Christine. She knew the stories, she saw Don Juan. She could tell how deep their relationship went. Sarine wanted so desperately just to fall into Erik's arms and forget the world. Even if they did that, Christine would hover over them like a thundercloud, waiting to unleash chaos.

Sarine jumped as a knock came to the door. Knowing it was Jonathan, she wiped her eyes and hid the note and the rose. Jonathan didn't need to know. Yet.

"Come in!" she said, closing the drawer with the note in it.

Jonathan walked in and gave her a big hug.

"Your best performance yet!" he said, kissing her on both cheeks.

Sarine smiled, "Thank you Jonathan. You're too sweet."

Jonathan studied her as she turned back to the flowers. As hard as she was trying to hide it, he could see she'd been crying. Whether it was still because of Erik or someone else, he couldn't tell. He put on a smile and acted as if he didn't see as she turned to him again.

"Well, my dear," he said, clapping his hands together. "What is on the agenda for tonight? Dinner? Dancing? Shopping?"

He grinned wider at her reaction to the word "shopping". They were both without an outfit for the masquerade ball tomorrow, and he was insistent on them both going. Sarine, besides rehearsals and performances, was rarely out of her dressing room.

"Shopping sounds nice," Sarine said, standing up and taking Jonathan's hand and walking out of her dressing room.

They found many shops still open that had costumes. Jonathan found one in the first store: a prince. He tried to convince Sarine to go as a princess, but she refused. It took her a while, but she found the costume she knew she had to wear. Trying it on, she was ecstatic to see that it fit perfectly. The white satin skirt clung to her legs tantalizingly. Straight skirts were highly unpopular, but Sarine was never one to agree with the popular idea. She fingered the gold embroidery on the white corset. The delicate leaf and flower pattern fit the outfit perfectly. Looking in the mirror, she smiled at her reflection. The loose shoulder straps and limp wings were white, and had specks of gold in them. The small golden halo resting on her hair glinted in the light. She imagined Erik's expression when he saw what he lost. She wanted to be with him, but knew she couldn't. She sighed.

"Le fantôme et son ange…" she whispered wishfully, a single tear falling down her cheek.

A.N: All at once now: Awww! Haha. Anyways, I promise that the next chapter will be rocking! I swear to it!