A/N: Lyrics for this chapter are from Altered Aeon's "Dispirited Chambers," "The Resonance Of Form In Transition," and "Light Creates Shadows." As always, thanks to my beta and friend, Erik (Musique Et Amour).

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"No, no," Erik yelled, as the song hit the chorus. "We've been through this before...it's gotta sound like this!" He strode over to where a guitar sat, waiting to be used; picking it up, his nimble musician's fingers played through the section without any problem or any effort. As he played through the stubborn notes, he failed to notice a set of sky blue eyes watching with heightened interest.

I am a world architect...Beyond the need to analyze and dissect...

Christine had never quite noticed before how deftly he played or small things like how one piece of hair fell over his eye before; it was as though something had overtaken whatever reserves she had about Erik and washed them away. A new found admiration of his talents shone through her eyes. She didn't think that she loved him or anything of that nature...she was still holding out for her Prince Charming to enter and sweep her away.

I know I have to believe to see...Instead of see to believe...

At that precise moment, the back door to the auditorium swung open and Raoul walked in, with Pietro and Cheryl at his heels in mad pursuit. He stopped short when he saw the blonde singer on stage, readying herself to sing; raising the microphone to her heart-shaped mouth, her songbird's voice rang out: "Disillusioned I entered here...In isolation ensnared...But a mind cannot be escaped...Nor the horrors it chose to shape..." Almost immediately, Raoul knew he had to meet this woman...so he sat down in one of the chairs to wait.

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After ending rehearsal an hour later, Erik turned to Christine and spoke softly. "Jus' take it easy until the show eh, Chris?"

She smiled shyly at him, absently playing with a ring on her hand. She glanced down and a wave of melancholy immediately came over her. Father's last gift to me...he'd be so proud to see me now. She almost let herself drift into that other place when she saw her father for the last time; twisting it, she began to stare into space, until she realized Erik had gently touched her arm. Her eyes traveled from his hand to meet his own eyes in curiosity and...wonder.

"Chris?" He repeated her name, trying to snap her out of the daze she was in. "Chris? Ya alright there, chickadee?"

"What? Oh...oh, yeah. I'm fine, Erik," she said, waving away his concerns. "Just thinking about how important tonight is, that's all."

Erik didn't look as though he entirely believed her, but he let it go with a simple nod yet his hand continued to linger on her arm. Their eyes continued to hold the other's gaze and Christine did her best to read his...to see exactly what he was thinking, but no avail. His read of sadness and pain and something else she couldn't quite grasp, though she knew it was painful nonetheless.

"Mademoiselle?" A voice interrupted their reverie. Christine and Erik both looked down to see Raoul at the foot of the stairs, waiting to speak.

"I couldn't help but hear you practicing a moment ago," Raoul said, in a melodious tone. "I just had to meet the beautiful lady with the angel's voice."

Erik could scarcely believe that he was talking this way, especially to Christine, and that she didn't seem to mind...at all. His mask-framed gaze traveled from him to her as a smile lit up her porcelain features.

"Why, thank you, kind sir. That is truly a generous compliment you pay me," she said, as she descended the stairs to face Raoul. "I don't believe I caught your name, though."

"My apologies," he replied, taking her hand in his. "I'm Raoul de Chetillion III and it's my pleasure to meet you." With that, he placed a light kiss on her knuckles.

Blushing, her other hand flew up to her neckline and fluttered there for a moment before finally landing on her necklace, her fingers fidgeting nervously. She slowly introduced herself and Erik, then began talking about the group. "We're performing tonight and several representatives from Malabranca Records are supposed to be in the audience, hopefully wishing to sign us."

A smile played at the corners of Raoul's grey eyes. "Naturally, you'll get the contract, I'm sure."

"Oh...well, we don't know that for certain," Christine murmured, glancing up at Erik. "It's our dream to be signed, but it'll all depend on the performance tonight."

Before Erik could reply, an Italian curse rang out through the auditorium. Jumping with surprise, two sets of eyes turned to look at the back; Erik, though, knew exactly who had uttered the words. Well, if it isn't the red haired wench and her rat...it's too bad I can't drop another sandbag right now. I might not be so generous the next time. He leaned against the cinder block wall, waiting to see what had irritated the diva this time.

As Cheryl stomped down the aisle in her abrupt manner, Pietro scurried along after her, trying to soothe her temper. "La divina, please! It will be fine!" She quickly turned on him and glared, silencing him almost immediately. Continuing after down the aisle towards the threesome, Cheryl pointed a finger at Raoul, accusingly. "Voi!"

Incredulously, Raoul looked from her to Pietro and back again. "Me? What is wrong, signora?"

"You have promised me everything and nothing! You tell me you can help me win, but you talk to her! You lie!" Her beautiful features were contorted with anger, as she continued to speak. "You and him are not trying to help me win! All you want is her!"

"Signora, I-" Raoul tried to speak, but Cheryl cut him off with a wave of her hand.

"No more! No more lies!" Turning her attention to Christine, she stepped closer to the young woman, like a snake stalking its prey. "You think because you are blonde that you can just grab everything with no talent!"

Every moment here feels like centuries...

Christine took a step back from the irate woman, not sure what to say. She twisted her head around to look back at Erik, who remained on the stage, trying to get some idea of how to handle the accusations. Half in the shadows, Erik was trying to stay as much out of it as possible...yet he was intently watching the exchange. Turning back around to Cheryl, Christine stared back into the Italian's green gaze; she tilted her head, wondering where all of this was coming from and who exactly this woman was.

These chambers reek of tragedies...

"Just...who are you and where do you get off with these half-brained accusations?" She asked, coolly, never giving away how unsettled she was.

"Ah, ah, ah! Half-brained, eh?" Cheryl glowered at the calm woman. "You know exactly who I am! These things I say are true! You get all of this," she gestured to the auditorium and the stage, "just because you sleep with him!" Her dancing fingers finally pointed at Raoul.

The shadows they come alive...

Christine's mouth dropped open. "I just met him, for god's sake!"

"Oh, no, I know better! I know when a woman has used herself to get some place!" She paused dramatically, "...and you have slept with him!" Again, she pointed at Raoul.

Promising death to arrive...

"You, signora," Christine nearly spat the word, "are nothing but a bitch."

At that moment, Erik's breath caught at Christine's words; he straightened up, waiting for Cheryl's coming reaction.

But my sanity left here long ago...

Her voice trembled with anger. "I...am NOT a bitch! You...you...whore!" With that, she raised her manicured hand and hit Christine's cheek with a resounding slap! After leaving her mark on the young singer's face, she turned and began to flounce out.

And I'm determined to follow...

Before Erik, Raoul, or Pietro knew what was happening, Christine took off like a shot after Cheryl, tackling her half-way up the aisle. Even though the red-haired woman was much taller than Christine, it didn't phase the petite woman at all; she easily took Cheryl down to the floor with a running tackle. Hair flying...nails gouging...shrieks...

A new day is dawning, my world is prepared...

Raoul and Pietro raced to the two wrestling women, trying to break them apart...only to be kicked and shoved away by the fighters. Erik was behind them, watching with a mixture of amusement and concern for Christine. Finally, Erik reached into the fight and pulled Christine off Cheryl with little effort at all, while Raoul and Pietro stood to the side nursing their wounds.

Christine resisted being pulled off, but gradually calmed down when he whispered something in her ear. Leaving his hands firmly on her arms as if to say that he was not leaving, Erik shot a deadly look at Cheryl; for Christine's sake, he could not afford to let his temper lose on the woman.

Upon the dispirited mindset a war is declared...

Not yet.

Grasping her elbow, Pietro helped Cheryl up off the floor and gain her footing; straightening her jacket and attempting to push her disheveled hair out of her eyes, she leaned on Pietro for support as they limped out of the auditorium together. While they were retreating, Raoul hurried over to Christine, who was still in Erik's long fingered grasp.

"My god, Christine," he said, making an attempt to take her hand. "Are you alright?"

Without letting him have that connection, Christine answered with a note of coolness in her voice. "Yes, Monsieur de Chetillion, I am fine. For now, at least." His attention obviously rebuffed, Raoul bid them adieu and quickly left, with a promise of return for that evening's performance.

With that, she allowed her eyes to take a slight glance up at Erik, who was oblivious to the tiniest bit of attention. For the first time, Christine found herself wishing that his hands would stay there indefinitely.

Behind the thoughts lies all answers...
Beyond what carnal eyes allows you to see...
Behold, awake and see all others...