XXXVII

Antoinette made her way down to the chapel. The masquerade was about to start, guests were already arriving, but she wanted a bit of peace before going out into the crowds. Of course peace was not what met her. As she approached the door she heard voices, something strange for the chapel.

She approached slowly, and listened carefully. It was Erik's voice and then the voice of Christine responding to it. Erik sang something, and she couldn't help but smile, he really did seem to have the voice of an angel at times. Then, to her surprise, Christine sang the same few bars before stopping and asking something.

"Was that good?"

"Yes, my dear, it was beautiful."

"May I go now Angel? The masquerade is tonight and we are supposed to be in bed early."

"Very well, my dear. You may go, good night."

"Good night, Angel…"

Antoinette quickly climbed back up the stairs and waited until she heard the footsteps of Christine to go back down. Christine stopped and said hello before quickly dashing off to the dormitory. Antoinette shook her head. So, Erik was teaching the girl, it was strange for sure. But perhaps it was good that he had contact with someone else in the theatre…but something still bothered her, perhaps it was how as she entered Erik was no where in site, or maybe it was that Christine had called him 'angel'.

"Ah, good evening, Madame," his voice came clearly, almost cheerfully, "should you not be up enjoying the festivities?"

"I am going in a few minutes, are you?"

"Hmm, no I do not believe so. After all, I have no costume."

"It seems to me that what you normally wear would be appropriate," Antoinette commented.

"How dull," Erik replied, "I would at least need a different mask, and I do not have one at the moment. Therefore I will not be going. Though I do hope you enjoy your time. Good night, Madame."


Over the next few weeks there were no notes from the resident ghost and it left most everyone relieved, though they all knew that it would not last. It had happened before, more than once, and every time he would come back, usually in a worse mood than when he had left. Still, the calm in the eye of the storm was nice and provided for fairly uneventful rehearsals.

"She's horrible," one dancer complained, "she stepped on my foot and blamed me…I was on my mark!"

"Yeah," another agreed, "one she pushed me off Pointe…I almost twisted my ankle."

"Same, except I did, and I was lucky it wasn't broken!"

Antoinette sighed, "I know, my dears, but there is nothing I can do."

"Monsieur Lefevre could fire her, that's what the ghost wants," someone said.

"He cannot do that, we have no second soprano and it would take too long and cost too much to find one," Antoinette explained, "besides, she has her following, the audience loves her."

"They have poor taste then," Meg grumbled.

Antoinette sighed, "Perhaps…but they are the ones who provide our jobs and salaries. Now go and stretch, rehearsals are finished for today."

Antoinette watched as the dancers hurried off and made her way to the chapel. It was a good place for a bit of peace and quiet after a hectic day. Today was no different, except the voice that greeted her when she entered.

"Coming out?" she asked, "you know that I do not like talking to walls."

"Really, Madame?" he asked, slipping from the shadows, "why ever not? I find that they listen better than most people."

"Perhaps, but most people who talk to walls are insane. So, you have been composing again?" she asked.

"Why would you think that?"

"You have not been in contact with the theatre in quite some time, that usually happens when you are composing."

"Ah, I see. Am I that predictable?"

"Hmm, you obsess over things, and that makes you predictable."

"I do not obsess over things," he argued.

"Non?" Antoinette asked, raising her eyebrows, "you always have. You spend hours performing one task. You do not eat or sleep when working on something. You are headstrong, Erik, you put your mind to something and you do not stop until you have achieved it."

"Yes, well I suppose that could be considered unfortunate for certain people."

"Hmm, perhaps. So, I take it that you completed whatever you were working on."

"You would be correct…would you care to share how you came to that conclusion?"

"There have been no threatening letters, disasters or mysterious disappearances."

"That was once…and I returned it."

"After the performance!"

"So, did you come down here for a reason, Madame, or were you simply hoping that I would be here so you could berate me about my habits?"

"I came for some peace and quiet."

"Your apartment was not quiet?"

"Non, not with little dancers scampering back and forward."

"They scamper near your room?"

"Oui, until curfew."

"Well then, I shall leave you in peace," He said with a mock bow, "au revoir, Madame."

"Au revoir."


Christine waited patiently as Meg fiddled with he hair. Her friend had agreed to try and brad it. A feat that was more difficult said than done. But still she persisted, brush in hand.

"Meg, that hurts," Christine complained.

"Sorry, but its hard…your hair is difficult."

"I told you," Christine sighed, "but you wouldn't listen."

"Wait…I've almost got it…"

"Ouch!"

"There! Now just give me a minute and you'll be all set."

"This is foolish, what's the point in braiding my hair?" Christine asked, "if anything it will just make it more wavy, and I don't need that."

"It will look pretty," Meg said as she tied off the end of the braid, "and that should be reason enough. Not to mention it will keep your hair out of your face in rehearsal."

"I could have just tied it back then," Christine sighed, standing up and stretching.

"Fine, don't thank me. But it really does look good. Just look in the mirror!"

Christine sighed and walked over to the mirror and looked at herself. She had to admit, it wasn't horrible, though she really didn't like it all that much, "I suppose it looks alright."

"You look wonderful," Meg said, bouncing over and putting her hands on her friend's shoulders, "now get your shoes or we'll be late!"

The two girls rushed down to the stage and quickly joined the group that was already there. They were late again, but Antoinette was too busy talking to with Monsieur Lefevre to notice them.

Rehearsal went just as expected, horribly, but that didn't deter them anymore. After all, they all went horribly with Carlotta complaining about one thing or another. The dancing went off without a hitch, the instruments were all tuned and everyone knew the music from top to bottom. Overall they seemed completely ready for the upcoming performance.

"So, do you think we'll do good tonight?" Meg asked.

"I think we'll get through it," Christine said, "everything seems to be going well…well, for rehearsal."

"Why do you follow me?" Carlotta asked, shoving past the two girls, "stopa following me. I can go by myself, go, go!"

"Yeah," Meg agreed, "at least she can get it together for the performances…if only she could sing."

"Meg," Christine scolded, "that's not very nice."

"No, I guess not…come on, let's go down to the stables. We could see the new foal."

"Alright."


Erik tied his cravat and pulled on his jacket. Performance night meant a night to go above ground to critique the operas talents. This would be the first performance of the year, so of course he would be a bit lenient, they had all come back from visiting families and the like. Therefore the performers would have been out of practise before going into the four weeks of rehearsals.

"This should be excruciatingly painful," he muttered, pulling on his cloak and getting into the boat.

To his surprise the performance was not nearly as bad as he had thought it would be. The opera was doing a comedy, which could explain it. After all, a comedy did not need to be as perfectly performed as a tragedy. True, there were a few sour notes, but that was expected in any performance. A dancer fell out of step, someone was tripped by Carlotta and one of the musicians broke a string on their violin, but overall nothing went horribly askew.

Once the performance ended he hurriedly left his box and made his way to the closest passageway. It was always a risk to stay until the end, there was the risk of being seen. Not that any of the patrons were recognize him, but they might try and converse, and he truly did not want that.

Once back in his lair he pulled out a fresh piece of paper and began to write his note to the manager. He found it best to do this when the performance was fresh in his mind. That way he still had all of the mistakes fresh in his mind.


"Well, this isn't so bad," Monsieur Lefevre sighed, "but then again he has always been a bit…friendlier, yes, friendlier on the first performance after the holidays."

"Hmm, had he been?" Antoinette asked.

"Yes, its hard to believe, but it is true. He seems to understand that nobody ever practises over the break."

"How kind of him, but he surely has something unkind to say?"

"He requests his salary, he suggests, which means demands, that we hire a new flautist and he once again demands the firing of La Carlotta," he sighed, "well, we can at least give him two of the things he wants, no?"

"Oui…for now."

"I know that you disagree with my refusal to let Carlotta go, but it is simply impossible."

"I understand," Antoinette sighed, "but one day he will simply not take no for an answer. Then what will you do?"

"When that day comes I have a feeling that he will tell me exactly what to do," he muttered, "he will probably have a soprano ready to replace her, since both you an I know that when he does get fed up there will be no more La Carlotta…at all!"

"No, I don't suppose there will be," she agreed, "I must go now. I have to teach the little ones now."

"Good day, Madame."

"Oui, bonjour."


"Guess what I heard?" Meg asked In a sing-song voice.

"What?" Christine asked.

"You know Monsieur Piangi?" she asked.

"Of course," James replied, "he's only the lead tenor."

"Yes, Meg, we all know him," Christine agreed, "what about him?"

"Well, I hear that him and Mademoiselle Guidicelli are…having relations," she said with a sly smile.

"Relation?" James asked, "you mean uh…"

"Yup," Meg giggled, "that's what I mean."

"That's disgusting," James said, wrinkling her nose.

"Yeah, well it's the latest and only gossip at the moment…except its not really gossip because Sorelli told me that she, er…she knows its true."

"Poor Sorelli," Christine said, faking a small shudder, "that must have been traumatizing."

"Why, Miss Daae, you have a truly mean streak in you at times," Meg said teasingly.

"Well, its true," Christine murmured, "now if you don't mind I have to go."

"Go where?" James asked.

"Oh nowhere," Christine replied, "I'll be back in a bit."

She made her way down to the chapel and greeted her Angel. She now looked forward to lessons, no matter how difficult the material or how many times she was forced to repeat it. Lessons meant time with her Angel, and that was important. She could always talk to him if she was worried about something, or just needed somebody who would listen no matter what. Not only that, but she loved to hear his voice and was always thrilled when he would sing for her, even if it was only a few bars of what he was teaching her.


A/N: Look, I updated and it didn't take forever! Aren't you all thrilled or, you know, at least glad? Well I hope you are, and that you will leave me some reviews to read...because otherwise I don't get e-mails and that is just sad.