Disclaimer: I do not own the Phantom of the Opera by Andrew Lloyd Webber, Susan Kay, Gaston Leroux, or any other version whatsoever.

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10 years later

Christine Daae collapsed onto a chair late into the afternoon of this day. She carelessly untied her slightly grayed, pastel pink pointe shoes and threw them onto the floor. Then, she quickly undid her uncomfortably tight bun to let her long, curly brown hair fall upon her shoulders. Today, Madame Giry had purely exhausted the ballerinas of the repertoire to the maximum. It had not been for one thing, one of her favorite days, as it seemed as if La Carlotta's bullying got worse and worse each day. She replayed the diva's words in her head, " Get your head out of the clouds you howling peacock" or "You are nothing but a wailing swallow!" Christine started to cry, it seemed as if she had cried all the time during the last 10 years.

Angel, her faithful dog, went up to her and rubbed up against her. Angel always cheered her up even when she was in the lowest times. She had confided all her secrets and thoughts to him, even though he couldn't even understand what she was saying. Yet, in his expressions, it was like he strangely did comprehend her every word. "It's nothing, Angel" Christine said as she started to slightly smile. "Just me being overly sensitive to La Carlotta's teasing"

Later, her smile faded. "Oh Angel, I should just forget about the Angel of Music! He'll never come to me; I have no voice! Poor father, I have disappointed him so much in these past ten years. I am no prima donna, and I don't deserve an angel of music!" she exclaimed as began to cry again. Christine glanced over to view the dog, and began to cry harder.

Finally, after some time, she controlled herself and started to review the new script for the Populaire's next opera, Hannibal. Softly, she sang with a most gorgeous purity and grace that she barely noticed Angel's (or Erik's should I say) reaction.

This song reminded her bizarrely of her father and his very tragic death. As she continued to vocalize, she put more and more emotion into the song.

"Think of me, Think of me waking, silent and resigned Imagine me, trying too hard to put you from my mind. Recall those days, look back on all those times

Think of the things we'll never do

There will never be a day when I won't think…"

As she sang the final cadenza, he imagined her on the stage. Oh what a triumph she would have. With proper instruction, she could be the next prima donna of the stage; far better than the atrocious, joke of a singer in the spotlight now, know as La Carlotta.

He thought deeply for a few moments, and final came up with an idea. Perhaps he could be her teacher! It wouldn't hurt anybody if he pretended to be this Angel of Music, only for some time. Christine was a very sweet, caring girl, and it would make her so happy to hear from the "Angel of Music".

"Oh my! I was practicing the wrong part, La Carlotta's! I must have sounded horrible!" Christine gasped. She placed her head into the palms of her hands when suddenly; she heard a beautiful voice fill the room. Could this be the Angel of Music! " Hush, dearest child! Please do not cry, for your Angel of Music has arrived! I would truly enjoy giving you lessons in the night, for you could become greatest of all the opera singers with some guidance!" The young girl fell onto her knees and replied with glee, "Yes, Angel! I shall do anything you command me!"

After some short conversation, the "Angel of Music" arranged to teach her at nine-thirty every night starting tomorrow. In a flash, he gave Christine his good byes, bursting inside that he had brightened her up so much. Christine turned around to see her gentle canine companion's reaction, but realized he disappeared.

As he did every night, the dog scurried down below the damp, dark underground labyrinths of the Paris Opera and transformed into his human form. Finally, after hurrying through many stone, lonely cellars, he reached his home, filled with excitement. With a little ventriloquism, he had not only made Christine cheerier, but he had arranged for them to be even closer. Although, he would have to have her lessons at night, for it was risky to do ventriloquism as a dog. What would she think if the Angel of Music barked?

Erik had never known she yearned for an Angel of Music before. Although, he was unbelievably glad to help her, he began slowly to have second thoughts about the whole plan. He was no angel; he was a horrible monster that everybody was afraid of. Maybe he shouldn't have fooled this caring, naïve girl into believing he was somebody else.

Slowly, he approached his vocal/ organ scores from the many different operas composed. Intently, he searched through each for songs he could use for Christine's vocal training. He wanted to find something that suited her voice just right. The song Christine had sung before came into his mind, and he slowly began to hum the melody to himself. While continuing to eye through the books, he suddenly found a sketch he had drawn of Christine a few weeks ago. She had a long, white, lacy dress on, with a big, red rose tucked neatly in her curly, brown hair. The rose reminded him of Christine, with everlasting youth and beauty. Erik rose up and placed his hands onto the soft, ivory keys of the organ. By ear, he began to play the melody of "Think of Me".

Erik grinned widely as he played, and whispered, "A prima donna at last"