Stand and Watch It Burn: An Object and Its Lack Of Stability

Things, Christine thought one moment during physics class, were very, very confusing.

"Torque depends on the magnitude of the force, the distance from the axis of rotation at which it is applied, and the angle between the force and the radius from the axis of rotation to the point where the force is..."

Yes. Things, she thought, were perhaps more confusing than the rambling complexities of which the teacher blathered on about.

She forced her mind to focus on what the teacher was writing on the board and lecturing about. "An object is stable against rollover if its center of mass is above its base..."

Hmm...That makes sense, at least, she thought with a nod. If an object's center of mass is above its base, then it is stable. If an object is stable against rollover, than its center of mass is above its base. If the object's center of mass is receiving music lessons from an invisible heavenly being, then it is very, very unstable. Then, it might need to get some help. Seeing as invisible angels are extremely unreal, one may conclude that those who hear the words from such beings can be considered not stable. If...

"Christine!"

"What?" Christine snapped, a little louder than she would have preferred, to the young blonde sitting beside her. "Sorry," she mumbled after seeing the small girl's eyes widen in surprise. "Just...zoned out for a bit, there. Did you say something?"

"What the heck is on your mind, Christine Daaé? You've been distracted for the past three days! Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Meg, really," she assured her friend with a smile. To her immense relief, the bell rang and she nearly jumped out of her seat and ran to her locker.

What was wrong with her? It seemed like every other moment she would throw a cautious glance over her shoulder or upward as she passed from class to class. Why was she so jumpy? Well, that's a stupid question, her mind answered. She glanced at the clock. There was no rehearsal today, so as planned, she would wait for about an hour and a half until most students and faculty left, and then go to the auditorium...

...Where she would...what? Go stand on stage? Sit in one of the seats until she heard his voice? What exactly was she doing? Christine shook her head and sighed before plopping herself down on the floor in a corner to at least try to start some homework before...it was time.


"Charles, my God! The girl wants to sing! How can you of all people deny her that?"

"Putting her up on that stage might draw unwanted attention, Annette. I will not allow it."

Annette Giry threw up her hands in exasperation and cursed under her breath at the man's stubbornness. Yes, she understood his determination to protect his daughter, as she felt the same way. Over the years, Annette had formed a maternal attachment to the girl and had therefore made many sacrifices for her safety. "It's been years, Charles. Do you really think..." she paused and bit her lip, choosing her words extremely carefully. "It has been at least, what, three years since...? Surely you cannot think—"

"Perhaps you've forgotten, Ann, that the trouble has existed well beyond three years. Why should I assume, now, that it's all finally gone away?"

"He's gone, Charles. We don't have to worry about him anymore!"

"He isn't gone! He will never be gone! The police said...they never found the body, remember? We can never know! We can never..."

His voice drifted off and after a moment or two Annette found her voice.

"She's nearly eleven, Charles! And she wants to sing! For you! She wants to show her friends what her father has taught her! How can you deny her that, after all those years of telling her she was born for it? You'll break her heart."

"She'll understand." Charles Daaé insisted with a sigh. Annette watched him carefully as he rubbed his hands in anxiety and frustration. "I have to do this to protect her, Ann. I can't...I won't...subject her to that same kind of danger that I allowed my wife to fall under."

Annette remained quiet for a moment, before sitting down at the chair beside her friend. His stare was far off, lost in some distant memory. She hated seeing him torment himself like he would. Each time his face seemed to lose its strong, stable facade, her heart broke inwardly. Each time she would open her mouth to offer some words of comfort, but she was always unable to find any. Despite the fact that she knew how he felt, despite her own inner torment and guilt, the words were always lost. Yes, she understood. Her walls broke each time his did. The day he lost a wife, she lost her only sister. She would always be there for him, both as a grieving sister-in-law and as a friend.

"Charles..." her voice was soft and he looked up for the first time in several moments. "Your daughter wishes to show off her beautiful voice in front of her friends at her school's Holiday Talent show. She is not an actress, performing in a Broadway play, as...as Liz was. She is not subject to the gazes of hundreds of people. It will be attended by proud parents and family members of students, whose only reason for being there is to watch their children shine. That's all."

Charles stubborn and firm expression melted at her assurance, and soon enough he sighed and nodded. "If you say so," he murmured softly.

Annette nodded and managed a comforting smile. Inwardly, she cringed. Damn that vile creature for forcing a strong, confident man into a life of paranoia! She cursed. She hoped that man was lying in an alley somewhere, being devoured by the rats.

When would they finally be free of him?


About three weeks later, dark blue eyes swept the large, crowded gymnasium with slight disdain as the tall figure took a seat near the back. Hands swiftly pulling out the folded program tucked neatly in his coat pocket, the eyes scanned the long list of names with uncloaked interest until they stopped upon the eighth name.

Christine Daaé ("O, Holy Night")

The thin lips turned upward into a cold, calculated smirk just before the lights dimmed and people around him took their seats.

Yes...tonight would prove to be quite pleasant indeed. He wondered idly if he possessed her mother's stage presence...


"Hello?"

Her meek voice was answered with silence. Christine would have guessed no one was there and left, had it not been for the stage lights that illuminated the far side of the auditorium, and the strange presence that seemed loom all around her. That and, well:

"Hello, Christine."

Christine nearly jumped out of her skin at the low, silky sound of the voice that surrounded her. Her eyes drifted upward, a little fearfully, before noticing the lights gradually merge to form a faint spotlight upon the center of the stage. Taking that as her cue, she cautiously made her way to the stage and stood in the center, squinting for a moment at the light in her eyes. Feeling suddenly nervous and scrutinized, Christine shifted uncomfortably. She felt the need to say something, to tell him that she hadn't actually ever had any sort of training. What if her voice wasn't nearly as beautiful as her father had always thought? Why did she suddenly care? "I warn you, it's been a really long time," she offered meekly.

"Surely it hasn't been that long...You were singing only a few days ago," the voice countered smoothly. Before she could respond with stammers and flustered mumbles, he continued. "Now, I think we should start with scales. Bear in mind, some notes on the high register will not sound perfect, but we'll widen your range in time."

Christine nodded her assent.

"Straighten up," the voice commanded and Christine immediately obeyed. "Posture is key. Have you ever had vocal lessons before?"

"I..." She paused. "My father...he was a musician. He used to teach me some things, like scales and how to enunciate and"

"Posture, Miss Daaé!"

Her spine immediately snapped straight and she ceased her rambling.

"Good. Now, shall we begin?"

She took a second to wonder where the sound of a piano was coming from, but it quickly slipped her mind along, oddly, with her hesitations about singing. Right now, all that existed was the tinkling of the piano, and the voice of her angel.


A/N: Don't forget to review, please! And thanks for those I've gotten! They're very inspirational. :) I decided to put in an incredibly random Meg cameo. I needed someone there besides Liam to show she has more than one friend, so I stuck the cute blonde girl in. She might not play a great role, and she isn't Meg Giry, the daughter of (Annette) Giry. Anyway, hope you all enjoyed! Please review! (begs)

la M.R