Chapter 4

Katie dropped her coat and fedora on her floor, and threw her weary body on to her bed. She had just returned home from another exhausting voice lesson. Her new tutor pushed her harder and farther than any other she ever had before. He was able to see the true potential she held, something she herself never knew existed. Despite his harsh lessons, she had never loved the time she spend singing more. When she was with him, he filled her with confidence, stealing away the modest girl she was to every one else. She could sing her loudest, and most passionate, without fear of him shooting down her faint dreams, she even welcomed his criticizing words. It was only when he made a spit at her dear friend's voice, did she ever protest to his word. It was one thing to say something to her, but to say it about her friends, that crossed the line. Her voice carried an anger she couldn't fathom were it's source was when she protested his word, which he normal used to fill her with fire, if the song called for it.

"Katie." His voice called. She sat up, and looked around her bland room, debating weather or not she had heard what she thought she heard. "Katie." His voice called out again, this time coming from the large, full length mirror on her closet door.

"Sir?" She got off the bed, and approached the mirror. She half expected to see him appear in her reflection.

"You forgot your music." His voice flowed over her. She glanced back at were she dropped her stuff down, but her chorus folder was no were in sight.

"Oh, I must go them it then." She turned to leave, but his voice stopped her.

"No need, I brought it to you."

"Were?" She looked around, and noticed it placed on her bed, where she had been sitting just moments before, accompanied be single rose, the usual romantic black ribbon tied around the stem.

"Thank you." She picked up the rose, and twirled around, not exactly sure were to speak to.

"You have doing so well, you deserve some time to rest, and be with your...friends. We will postpone your lessons till next week." Katie dropped her eyes to the floor, not sure if she should mention her feelings to him, but he knew she had something on her mind.

"Is there something wrong?"

"Oh, no, it's just..." She took a step forward, "I really enjoy the lessons, I will miss singing for you."

"You grow to dependent." His voice lost it's usual tenderness, and seemed more like a wounded child. "You need to spend time with them , they miss you, especially that Jammes."

"I have been kind of neglecting them lately." It hadn't crossed her mind how he would know how Mandi felt, after all, he had truly never met her, but her knew everything about Katie's life.

"Go out with them, and enjoy yourself, but please take care of your vocal cords, no excessive screaming, please. I don't want you coming back unable to continue."

"Of course, what kind of student would I be if I didn't listen to my tutor?" He gave a short, snickering laugh.

"You really are the perfect student, Katie"

"As you are the perfect teacher, tut-" She stopped, as a thought crossed her mind. "If it isn't to bold to ask, what is your name? I have only called you Sir, which is extremely formal, I believe we are past being formal, maybe friends?" He didn't speak at first, but them answered her is a soft, chilling voice.

"My name is Tarak."

Katie and Mandi sat among three of their friends, Steph, Meg, and Mandy, watching the Charles Dance version of there beloved obsession. Steph and Meg sat off in a corner, fighting over something about Meg's recent fascination with a certain religious figure, while Mandy working on some sort of Design for an outfit she was planning to create, leaving Katie and Mandi to talk.

"So, why aren't you at your voice lesson?"

"Tarak thought it would be better to spend time with the group." Mandi raised her eyebrow to the name.

"Tarak?" Katie leaned in closer, so that the other's wouldn't happen to over hear.

"that's his name."

"So, you know your angel of music's name, have you seen his face?"

"No, not yet." She blushed, thinking of the picture she had imagined him to resemble, which looked more like a Greek sex god than a music scholar.

"Do they know about him?" She motioned over to the others.

"I haven't told them."

"Why Lotte?"

"They wouldn't understand, not like you."

"But why me Lotte? You have been friends with them a lot longer than you have with me." She dropped her eyes on Mandy, how was happily humming to herself. She was the one to introduce Mandi and Katie, she had been Katie's best friend.

"Your the one most like me." She said plainly, "Can I tell you something?" Her tone lost it's usual playfulness, turning serious and conflicted.

"Of course Lotte, that's what I'm here for." Katie wrapped her arms around her legs uncomfortably, then confided in her friend.

"Jammes, they are getting worse, the dreams." Mandi placed her hand over her shoulder for comfort.

"How?" Katie bit her lip, and focused her eyes on nothing in particular, recalling the most recent even.

"I can feel them, not just see. This morning when I woke up, I could feel his strong arms still holding me close to him, the taste of his sugary lips still lingered on mind, I could even still smell him." She hadn't realized it, but her body was shaking. Mandi moved closer, and wrapped her arms around Katie, trying to stop her body.

"Lotte, I know you have always had a strong imagination, but this isn't right. You shouldn't be experiencing them like you are. Just yesterday, you woke up gasping for air in Art, I didn't want to say anything, because it scared me." Her eyes began to water, "Your throat was red, like it was rubbed raw." Katie grabbed her neck, recalling the vivid dream that kept recurring, each time intensifying.

Erik didn't know what he was doing, his eyes were blood shot, and filled with hatred. She could smell the brandy on his lips, and saw the scares and raised veins on his right arm. He didn't recolonize her. I f he had, he wouldn't be holding her like this, he would never hurt her. He dedicated himself completely to her, and when she left, he lost himself, she took his heart with her. He had the dread Punjab wrapped around her slender neck, she didn't struggle, but wept for how he had fallen. Her angel, her love, a poor tortured man, driven mad with his need to die.

"Angel, I 'm sorry." She choked out. He loosened the catgut, and spun her around, looking into her gentle face.

"Christine?" He sounded like a frightened child, as he finished removing the Punjab. Relief rushed through his body, as she embraced him. She wanted him, like he wanted her. He clung to her hair, never wanting to let her go, fearful she might leave again, as well as making sure she was real, not just a cruel joke his mind was playing. "Oh, Christine." He collapsed to the floor, dragging her down with him. He wept into her soft body, releasing all the emotion he kept bottled inside his entire life. She never had seen him shed a single her before, not even as he let her go. She held him to her chest, and kissed the top of his hair tenderly.

"I'm here, Erik, And I won't leave you again."

"They have gotten worst, ever since you started your lessons." Katie looked up, and shook her head in disbelief.

"This has nothing to do with Tarek-"

"Lotte, are you blind? You get your own 'Angel Of Music' who refused to let you see him, and now you are having dreams, well, they aren't really dreams, they sound more like your reliving parts of Christine's life. You can't say that is a coincidence."

"I'm not saying that, but how can they be connected?"

"Wasn't it you who considered reincarnation?"

"That really can't happen. Honestly, you read too much fan fiction, this isn't like Phantasy."

"Just because she explored that possibility, doesn't mean this can't happen. And it's different than the book, I think this Tarek might be Erik."

"Hypothetically, if he is Erik, why in hell would he choose me to be is Christine?" She buried her head into her palms.

"Your just like Christine, Lotte. I mean, you love him, you really and truly love Erik. You innocent, just like she was. Your like a blank canvas, waiting to be used for his artwork."

"All I need is a Raoul now." She commented sarcastically.

"What's wrong with Lotte?" Steph directed her attention toward Them, noticing Katie's unusual position.

"Oh, nothing. She's just not feeling well, lack of sleep."

"Something you know a lot about." Steph commented, directed at Mandi's feeling towards how necessary sleep really is.

"But I have perfected the art of depriving myself, Lotte has not." Steph rolled her eyes, and Mandi slapped her upside the head.

"Don't hurt My Mommy!" Meg protested, returning with a gentle, but forceful shove. Mandy joined in on there little fake fight, but she quickly left, after realizing how hard of a hit Meg and Mandi really had, even when just fooling around.

"Little Meg, Little Jammes, La Carlotta, Madame Giry, do I have to sic Erik and his Punjab on you?" Katie scowled at the immaturity of her friends.

"I've already been Punjabed." Steph responded. The girls burst into a fit of laughter. Among their multiple Phantom theories, one particularly stood out in their minds, something that most Phans hadn't even considered, they believed that Meg was the child of Erik and Madame Giry, which made their Phantom names all the more fun, and created long heated discussions on who got to bed Erik. They used the word Punjabed as one of their many euphemism for certain subjects that they would rather not have other's listening in on, which Made Steph's comment well witted, and hilarious to the group.

"My friends." Katie shook her head and sighed, but joined in on their simple fun.