Christine lay on the sofa (1) in her dressing room. She felt slightly dizzy. Her head spun whenever she thought about the events of last night and this morning. After all these years, it had turned out that her teacher is not an angel, but a man. And none other than the phantom of the opera! She should've been angry with him, upset that he had deceived her, yet she could not bring herself to hate him. After all, he had been so kind to her for so many years. When she was younger, she would always cry while lighting the candle for her father. Erik was always there to console her, comfort her and end her sorrow. And he had so selflessly worked with her on her singing, pushing her to perfection.

She pondered her feelings for him. She knew she felt sympathy for him, but was that all? Was that what pulled slightly at her heartstrings whenever she thought of him? Or was it something deeper?

Her thoughts were interrupted as the door opened and Meg and her mother came in. Meg immediately ran over to her, asking her where she had gone and if she was alright. Christine did not think it was wise to tell her what had happened, so she just said she was tired and did not feel like talking about it. As Meg pushed on, arguing that she would not tell a soul, Christine's eyes wandered over to Madame Giry. She stood near the door, not saying a word. Christine had the feeling Madame Giry knew exactly where she was last night. The woman had the incredible talent of knowing everything that went on in the theater. It seemed that nothing could get past her sharp gaze.

When Christine did not let up, Meg finally decided to leave her alone. Christine requested that Madame Giry let no one bother her for now. She did not give a reason, but the woman understood too well why Christine wanted to be left alone. Unfortunately, she did not have much privacy to sort out her thoughts, because tonight was the first night that the opera-house would be performing Il Muto. The night was even more hectic that usual because there was a change of plans. Carlotta had returned and resumed her original role of Countess, leaving Christine to play Serafimo. Christine was too lost in thought, even as the performance began, to be upset. She managed to snap out of it by the time the scene 'Poor Fool, He Makes Me Laugh' began.

Erik looked down at the performance from where he was standing on the circular walkway that ran around the grand chandelier. It infuriated him that the managers and the rest of them had so blatantly disobeyed his commands. They were fools for giving that old witch the role which Christine could have played so much better. He wanted to punish them, make them understand that if he ordered something, it would be done, no questions asked. He had already switched Carlotta's throat spray and was awaiting her to start croaking like the frog she was. He would have felt much more comfortable waiting in his usual spot in Box Five, but that was occupied by the Vicomte de Chagny. Anger coursed through him again as he said, "Did I not instruct that Box Five was to be kept empty?" His voice reverberated off the ceiling and the walls, making him sound so loud and fearsome, that the chandelier itself seemed to tremble.

The performers and audience members were surprised and looked nervously around for the origin of the voice. It was finally Meg Giry who said what everyone was thinking: The Phantom of Opera. As Christine agreed with her, he could tell she seemed to be anxious herself. He was then delighted to see Carlotta momentarily go offstage to spray her throat. Not long after she reassumed her spot and began to sing did a huge 'CROAK' come out instead of the note. Some laughter erupted from the audience as her fellow performers and those backstage looked at each other in horror and shock. Again Carlotta began, more timidly this time. And again came a great 'CROAK'. Pleased that his plan had worked and feeling his work was done for today, he left the walkway through a door that had been behind him.

He was being followed. He could sense it. He did not have to look to know that it was Buquet, the stagehand. Erik had never been fond of him. He was a lecherous old man who gave Christine and the other young girls more than friendly looks. It enraged Erik to have his pure, innocent Christine looked at like a piece of meat. Buquet also loved to tell stories about the Opera Ghost, how he was a repulsive looking fiend that enjoyed hanging others. He had been getting on Erik's nerves for quite a while, and now that he was snooping around, he decided to put Buquet in his place.

Erik quickened his pace. Soon enough, Buquet lost his trail, and paused to stare at the frantic and confused ballet dancers try to perform while around them the scenery was haphazardly being changed to that of their scene in Act III. He then continued to search, walking on the upstage ramps held up ropes and looking around for any sign of movement. He had no idea that he was being watched. Erik followed him, careful not to reveal his presence until the right moment.

When Buquet could not find anyone, he became quite nervous. Suspecting that he was now the one being tailed, he walked faster, wanting to get down to the stage and safety as soon as possible. He turned to make sure there was no one behind him, and came face to face with the infamous phantom. Fear erupted in his heart, and he turned once more and ran for his life. He climbed up the rope holding up the ramp, but the phantom did not follow him. He climbed up a different rope entirely, and ended up on the ramp opposite Buquet's. Buquet was becoming quite frenzied. If he ran to the left, the phantom did the same. The same happened if he tried the right. His heartbeat was deafening to him; he couldn't think. He darted to the right as fast as he could, hoping to outrun Erik.

He did not look to see what Erik was doing, but simply ran across the ramp that led to the stairs. Erik had climbed up the rope again, and quickly moved to the end of the ramp Buqet was almost across. The stagehand knew all hope was lost as Erik violently shook the ramp, and Buquet fell. The 'magical lasso' he so bravely spoke of only the night before really did seem to come out of nowhere, and in moments was around his neck.

Erik did not care that Buquet was shamelessly begging for his life, he had planned for revenge, and now he would have it. He blocked all thoughts from his head as he tightened the Punjab lasso around the stagehand's neck. Why should he pity Buquet now when the man did not pity him? He didn't once stop to think before he made fun of Erik, insulted him and laughed at him. Rage built up inside of him. He pulled the rope tighter and tighter. The stagehand was turning blue. He would be dead in moments….

'You're beautiful…when you're not yelling…' He could hear his angel's sweet voice in his head. She had pitied him. Cried for him. In those few moments that he was with her, he felt human, not like the monster he was being now. She had seen the worst of him – his disfigurement and his anger, yet she seemed to only see the good in him. What would she think of him if he did kill Buquet? Would she let his blood-tainted hands touch her pure, innocent body?

His hands loosed on the rope. He would not kill Buquet. He had to live up to the angel Christine saw him as. Erik swiftly removed the Punjab lasso from the stagehand's neck. Buquet was too stunned and dazed from the lack of air to move of say anything. Erik fixed him with a murderous gaze. "Leave. Leave and never return. Tell no one of this occurrence or I will track you down and finish this." That seemed to give Buquet all the strength he needed. He nodded, his eyes full of fear, struggled to get up and staggered across the ramp to the stairs, not daring to look back.

Erik watched him run. When Buquet disappeared down the stairs, he looked down to the stage to see the ballet had ended, and Christine, dressed as the Countess, had taken center stage. He was slightly unsatisfied with his revenge on the managers but decided that his point had come across: what he says goes. After a few proud minutes spent watching his student make the audience laugh with her splendid acting and charm them with her sweet voice, he moved from his spot back to the circular walkway that ran around the chandelier, where he could see her best.

(A/N): That was much longer than the first chapter. I'm not too good with describing "action" scenes, but I hope that wasn't too terrible.
The next chapter will be Christine-centered, starting right after she begins to change into the Countess' costume in her dress room
(1) I'm not sure if there's actually a sofa there. If there isn't, I hope you're all not too upset that I made it up
If you're reading this now, you probably have read the entire chapter, and have some thoughts on it. Please, share them. Did you like it, didn't you like it, why, should I continue, should I stop, what corrections/changes should I make…etc…Please tell me, I truly value your opinions.
The next chapter will not be easy for me to write. The story is diverging from the original, and my imagination isn't as good as it could be. So please. If you want me to continue, review.