Thanks for the reviews guys! They keep me writing!

Someone asked how closely this was going to follow the book. My answer is that it will follow the original with just enough twists to keep it unique. Hopefully it will turn out well. I'm thrilled that everyone is enjoying Erik's characterization. He's fun, though sometimes difficult, to write. Finally, this story may end up being pretty long. So...hope that's okay. :)

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Seeing me will certainly do you no good...

Christine's eyes widened as the memory returned to her. She now realized the haunting voice to be that of the apparition she had encountered on the night of the accident. The ethereal timbre and unnatural tone cut through the dark as it had before, almost hypnotizing her. As her breath increased and her heart hammered, Christine took another unsteady step backwards.

"Who are you?" she finally choked out, desperately looking for the owner of the voice around the shadowy room. A part of her felt the need to run, yet her feet remained fastened to the floor.

"Calm down, Christine. I am merely a friend...an admirer."

"But I can't see you!" she protested. "Where are you? How do you know me?" Again, she knew she should escape, but something kept her there. Loneliness? Curiosity?

"No one ever sees me. I am..." It paused for a moment. "I am much too important to be seen by anyone. A celebrity, you might say."

"A celebrity?" Christine blinked in surprise, her eyes gazing toward the ceiling in search of an intercom or speaker, anything that would serve as an explanation. She found nothing, but the room was too dark for her to see much. "Are...are you an actor?"

"Something like that." It almost sounded amused. "No more questions, Christine. The only thing you must know is that I am here to assist you."

"What?"

"I want to help you improve in your singing abilities. Your voice is very unique, simply in need of training. I can provide that. I can make you shine."

Christine felt her head began to cloud, as if the voice were a fog invading her mind. "I-I…" She stuttered for a moment. "How?"

"You will come here, or a vacant room of your choosing, and sing after each rehearsal. I will evaluate your strengths and weaknesses. There is nothing difficult involved." Several notes suddenly rang out from a hidden piano, floating in the air for a moment before being cut short. The sound awoke her, as did the strange offer.

Christine swallowed and took another step back. "Could I please see you? This is very strange to only hear you."

"No. Do not ask that again. This is a unique opportunity, Christine. I suggest that you accept the offer with no petty conditions."

"I'm sorry." The panic was growing. "I can't, though. You're frightening me." Her heart was racing. "I don't know who you are, and I-" Christine suddenly turned on her glued heels and fled down the dim corridor, as if she were afraid the voice would suddenly grab her and sweep her into the nothingness. Her heels clicked quickly against the linoleum tiles as she ran, and her only goal was to get as far away as possible.

Feeling her sides ache with the exertion, Christine slowed her pace somewhat as she neared the exits. As she rested a clammy hand on the glass doors, another hand suddenly came down upon her shoulder. She let out a loud screech before turning around. "Meg!" she gasped out, clutching her heart.

"What's wrong?!" Meg exclaimed, looking at her friend with concern. "I didn't mean to scare you. You're so pale, though. Are you okay?"

"No...I..." She took several deep breaths. "Nothing is wrong. I'm tired." Christine didn't feel like explaining. She wasn't even sure if she could explain.

"Okay," replied Meg, giving her friend a confused look. "Mom has the SUV waiting out front. Are you sure you're okay? Did you find your purse?"

She had forgotten all about her purse! "No, I couldn't find it. It's okay, though. Let's...let's go."

"I'll ask Mom to check the lost and found tomorrow. Maybe it's there."

Christine nodded and looked back once into the empty theater. Had she imagined it somehow? Perhaps what had scared her the most was that she had almost wanted to stay...wanted to believe that someone was there to help her and was watching out for her. But a strange voice? That seemed to belong to no one?

Clutching her head, Christine followed her friend into the night, finding the cold air to be soothing to her flushed cheeks.

Christine sat on the edge of the stage during the first rehearsal, oblivious to the voices of the people gathered around her. Somewhere, she heard the director hollering out an order. Charlotte complained about something new every couple of minutes, and deep laughter arose from a group of guys hunched over a piece of scenery. She didn't really hear what was being said, and no one seemed to notice that she was there. As a deep feeling of mourning consumed her, though, Christine decided that her state of invisibility was for the best.

Meg Giry finally noticed her from where she was sketching designs.

"Christine?" her friend asked, sitting down next to her. "Are you okay? You haven't said anything today."

Startled, Christine looked up. "Huh? Oh. I'm fine, Meg. Just tired."

"You're welcome to come over with us and look at scenery. It is kind of weird how they're not teaching you the lines or giving you some vocal coaching. Maybe you should complain to someone."

"No. I'm fine." Christine choked slightly and turned her head away.

"Christine? What's wrong?"

She took a deep breath, feeling the desperate need to tell someone. "Mrs. Valerius' test results came back last night. The cancer-it's spread everywhere! The doctor doesn't think she has more than three months left. And there's nothing they can do!" It took all of her willpower not to burst into tears. Meg wrapped her arms around her friend's thin shoulders.

"I'm so sorry, Christine! I'm sorry it's that bad. Maybe they'll be able to treat it, though."

Christine shook her head. "There's nothing they can do." She wiped a hand over her face, hoping no one else would be able to see her distress. "I don't know what to do."

"All you can do is hope for the best. And feel free to come and stay at our house if you want. You shouldn't be alone."

"Meg!" called another girl from the other side of the room. "See what you think of this!"

Meg glanced over. "Be there in a second!"

"Go on over, Meg," Christine said, standing up and brushing herself off. "I'm going to run to the restroom, anyway. I'll meet you outside."

The brunette shook her head. "I'll come with you. You shouldn't deal with this by yourself."

Christine attempted a small smile and stepped off the stage. "No. I...I really would like some time to myself. I'll be back in a moment."

She turned and rushed out before Meg could say anything, blindly making her way down the hall. Perhaps she shouldn't have even bothered coming that day, yet something had pulled her back. Christine searched for a bathroom to duck into, where no one would be able to see her cry. A sick feeling gnawed at her heart, and she found herself wanting to lie down and sleep.

"It's spread too far," the doctor had said. "We can't do anything but ease her pain."

Then Mrs. Valerius's words, always strong and full of hope. "I'll beat this, dear. Don't worry about me. I'll be fine."

Then they had cried together for over an hour, knowing deep down that each moment was now precious.

She finally threw open a door to a random room and began sobbing into her hands. Though the only sound Christine heard was that of her own gasping breath and choked cries, she knew that she was not alone. A part of her also knew that she had found this supposed solitude on purpose. She wanted to hear the voice again. It was the only thing that eased her mind. Christine swallowed thickly. "Are you there?" she whispered once she had recovered, looking around at what appeared to be a lounge of some kind. "Hello?"

"You know that I am."

"She's going to die," murmured Christine, staring at the ground as the voice wrapped around her. "She's going to die."

A moment of silence passed. "We all must die, Christine."

"I know," she sobbed, not caring if she was pouring her soul out to someone she had never seen. "But she's going to die, and I'm going to be alone. I don't know what to do." With exhaustion, Christine sat down on the carpeted ground and hugged her knees up to her chest. The air suddenly seemed colder, even with her wool turtleneck.

"You will not be alone," it stated, in what she chose to believe were only words of comfort. "Surely you've figured that out by now. You may mourn, though."

Christine didn't resist the soothing nature of the voice this time, allowing herself to be drawn into its melodious quality. She was desperate for anything that would numb the pain and dissolve the loneliness. "I want to sing for her," Christine said softly, staring at the floor. "She's always wanted me to, and I always refused."

"And I will teach you how. Everyone will know of your talent soon. Assuming you choose to accept my offer and do not go running off again."

Though she sensed the earlier hostility, Christine chose to ignore it. She sighed softly. "I don't think I'll be singing here. No one even notices me. But I would like to sing for Mrs. Valerius before...before..." She tapered off and was silent.

"Don't think so little of yourself. I suggest you learn the part of Magnolia as if you were going to play it." Several chords from the score of the musical rang out into the air, before fading away into the darkness from where they had come.

The statement confused Christine, but she left it alone. "I will," she murmured.

"And this trivial production is only the beginning. Much greater things await you."

Brushing a tear from her eyes, she looked back up. "Are you sure I can't see you?" she asked meekly. "It would be easier…sir…"

"No, Christine. Do not ask."

She nodded in resignation as a foreign feeling of calmness overtook her. "When do I start?"

"Now, Christine. We start now."