Because I love you guys and have gotten some really amazing reviews, I thought I'd post one more chapter today.

Don't get too excited...it's just a short little transition chap to give us more insight into the relationships that Christine and Erik both currently find themselves in.

-Nico

"Did you see his eyes, Christine? I swear, I've never seen a man with such pretty eyes!"

Christine laughed a bit, watching as her best friend stretched out an impossibly long leg on her practice bar.

"He was looking at you, Christine," Meg continued, stretching into another pose. "It's a shame he's married to that awful woman."

"I'm engaged to be married myself," Christine scoffed. "Or have you forgotten?"

"How could I forget?" Meg smiled, coming to rest her hands on her best friends' shoulder. "It's going to be the event of the century."

Christine's eyes darkened slightly. "Yes, well, I suppose you have Raoul to thank for that. I swear, Meg. Sometimes I feel as if everything he does must be an extravagant show." She pulled off her hat, which she felt was ridiculous to begin with. "You would think it would be enough just to marry me."

"Oh Christine," Meg pished. "There are worse things in the world than a man who wants everyone to know how much he loves his bride to be."

Christine forced a smile. "Of course," she agreed. "I'm being silly. It just sometimes feels like so much."

Meg hugged her friend. "You'll be alright," she cooed. "Raoul loves you...and you love him. And once you're married you live happily ever after like those fairy tales you're always reading."

Christine swallowed against the lump in her throat and nodded, breaking from her friend's embrace before Meg could see the tears in her eyes. "Yes," Christine agreed, swiping at her eyes with her back to Meg. "It will be wonderful."

Athena did not share a room with her husband.

And for this small fact, Erik was grateful.

Night had descended rapidly on the expansive mansion he shared with Athena. Dinner had been eaten in silence and she had left him for the evening without saying so much as a word.

His bedroom was a mass of marble and silk. Erik had to admit that it suited his taste and there was something comforting about still being himself, even when so much had changed.

A piano rested in the far corner of the room, littered with half smoked cigars and empty, brandy-stained glasses.

It seemed he was something of an alcoholic, he mused, gently cleaning off the dusty piano top.

Slowly, he sat at the piano.

It was strange. Yesterday he had given up his music and was about to kill himself. Today, he had played alongside of Christine again and could not imagine dying without holding her in his arms one more time.

His fingers began to mindlessly plunk out a haunting tune, something that he had not yet composed, but that sounded as if he had memorized it as a child.

His back arched and swayed as his hands and arms worked the ivory and onyx keys. Long eyelashes swooped down over his green eyes as he concentrated. His perfectly smooth black hair bobbed around his strong jaw as his muscular back flexed power into his fingers, bringing the melody higher and higher until it crashed back down and faded into silence.

"What's going on?"

Erik snapped his head in the direction of the voice.

Athena stood in the doorway, her glossy hair hanging loosely around her body. Her curves were visible through her white silken nightgown.

As she walked towards him, her hips swayed seductively.

"Excuse me?" Erik asked. His blood was pounding, partly because of his exertion against the piano, and partly because he had never seen a woman so intimately before. Even when he had watched Christine from behind her mirror, he had the decency to look away when she changed.

Athena came to the edge of the piano, her dark eyes reflecting the light of the sparsely lit candelabra in Erik's bedroom. "You haven't played the piano in years, Erik."

Erik looked down at the piano keys and remained silent.

Athena watched him, inherent sadness in her eyes. "Why are you playing the piano, Erik?" She asked, her voice suddenly rough and biting.

Erik looked up at her. "I don't know," he replied.

"Liar!" Athena shrieked, causing Erik to flinch. Her breath caught on a sob. "Who is she?" She asked quietly.

"What are you talking about?" Erik asked, alarmed.

Athena's angry eyes flashed down at him. "The only time you ever played the piano was before we were married. Before you found out about the money," she sniffed. "Before you started drinking." She lowered her eyes. "I'd wake up in the middle of the night and hear you playing the piano. These terrible, sorrowful songs that would tear into my soul and draw me to you." She clutched at her chest as if she was hearing the music she spoke of. "And I would stand and watch and listen. And you would never say it, but I knew that the music was for me and that you loved me."

Erik listened intently as Athena spoke of a memory Erik did not possess.

"But that was a long time ago," she continued, her voice becoming stronger and more angry. "And as you fell out of love with me, just as I fell out of love with you, the music stopped. So I'll ask you again, Erik. Who is she?"

Erik stood, rising to his full six feet, towering over his tiny wife. "Why should I tell you, Athena?" He asked, his voice dark and deep. "It seems that we have no loyalty to each other any more."

Athena looked up at him, shocked.

Erik's gaze darkened as he regarded her.

"Watch yourself, Erik," Athena said, her voice wavering. "If you cross me, it will ruin you."

"It seems you have already ruined me, Athena," he replied.

Tears fell down Athena's porcelain cheeks just before she turned and walked out of Erik's room, slamming the door on the way out.