A/N: Here is the next chapter. Enjoy! Oh, and in case you are confused, this story used to be title "Everlasting Fire", but I grew bored of it and had it changed. Hopefully that has not caused too much confusion. Anyways, here's your chapter and remember to review!

A dull murmur filled Christine's ears as she entered the restaurant. Her body was draped in a turquoise blue blouse with a modest neckline and a simple black skirt. Though, for the restaurant that she was now in, she felt dreadful underdressed. Raoul had kindly explained to her that he could not pick her up to take her to the restaurant himself as he had an important business arrangement that he had to attend to. Usually he did not let these little outings get in the way of their private time together, but it seemed that Raoul was taking a refuge in his work and had begun to work more and more hours the longer that they spent apart.

Christine squeezed her small clutch bag nervously in her hands as she was greeted by the smiling hostess.

"Hello, my name is Jammes. How may I help you?" she asked, her voice echoing the class and formality of her uniform. Jammes's hair was a golden blond, cut around her shoulders, and obviously kept in shape from much styling gel.

Christine ran her fingers through her hair, suddenly feeling self-conscious, "I'm meeting a…a Mr. Chagny. I'm not sure if he's here yet but I…"

Jammes face broke out into a large smile, "Oh Raoul! Yes, of course. He hasn't arrived yet, but I'll lead you to your table, I don't expect he'll be too much longer."

Christine nodded, a little surprised at her obvious acquaintance with her fiancée, though she expected he visited the restaurant a lot. She hadn't ever set foot in the place, but that didn't stop him from going out to dinner without her. No, she was certain that he had many good reasons to go out to fancy restaurants without her. What with all of his business meetings…and so forth.

She followed the young hostess around to the back of the restaurant and pulled out an elegantly crafted chair to sit down in. Once she had carefully settled her purse on the table and pulled in the chair to the table so she was comfortable she smiled up at the hostess.

"Your waitress will be with you shortly."

Christine nodded and watched as Jammes gracefully turned around and headed in the opposite direction. After she had disappeared from view Christine gazed down at the deep brown of the tabletop, suddenly realizing that she had absolutely no way to amuse herself.

A few silent minutes later a waitress with bright red hair approached her table. She waited momentarily to catch Christine's attention before beginning to speak, her voice almost identically matching the politeness of Jammes the hostess. She said,

"Good evening Miss, I see you're waiting for one more. Would you like something to drink while you wait?"

Christine considered her for a moment, weighing her options. There was no point not to order her a drink as Raoul was bound to arrive at any given moment, but there still lay the choice of an alcoholic or non-alcoholic drink. Christine's insides had been twisted uncomfortably in a tight knot since she had remembered that morning of her meeting with Raoul. In her mind she saw him enter the restaurant in one of his best suits, his handsome face a little saddened, and the words that she had spoken to him so harshly alive in the air around them.

"I'll have white wine please. Whatever you have, just something dry would be fine."

The waitress nodded and disappeared into the kitchens at the other side of the restaurant and once again Christine was left on her own with only her troublesome thoughts and nerves to accompany her.


A plate of appetizers and three more wine's later Raoul had still not shown up. Christine sighed heavily and kept her eyes plastered on the doorway, hoping and praying that Raoul would be the next person to enter the restaurant. But every time that doorway opened she was disappointed, as she found herself staring at yet another stranger.

Her red-haired waitress returned and picked up the plate that had once held Christine's favorite starter of Calamari.

"Um…Is there anything else I can get for you?"

Christine slowly shook her head, her shoulders wilting in disappointment. The waitress nodded and hesitated a moment, her face painted with pity before turning and walking from the table, leaving Christine alone.

Christine eyeballed the remains of the wine in her glass and she picked it up, drowning them in one most unladylike swig. The nervousness of an hour prior had long since died away and was replaced with anger and an overwhelming sadness. She had thought that the night would be spent cheerfully making amends with Raoul. But he hadn't even bothered to show. Her heart felt as though it were about to break in half, if it already hadn't.

She wasn't even sure what she was still doing at the restaurant. Christine knew that she could just leave and go home, and try her best to forget the whole thing. But yet, a little part of her was anticipating the arrival of her fiancée, and then all would be forgiven and they could stop fighting, get married, and live their lives.

"I'm sorry to interrupt you, but I believe you've been alone for far too long."

Christine was instantly snapped out of her self-pitying state when a familiar male voice entered her ears. At first she thought it to be Raoul, but that option was ruled out completely for it didn't sound like his voice at all.

Christine's eyes snapped up to her mystery guest and were a little surprised her find herself staring at a white porcelain mask.

"Oh, hey…yes…I have been here…alone for awhile…" Christine said weakly, not really sure how she was supposed to respond to such a statement.

The man nodded, his eyes not leaving her form. He said,

"Do you mind if I sit with you?"

Christine stared at the empty chair across from her and hesitated a moment, for what if Raoul ran in at that very moment! She swallowed and checked the silver watch on her wrist; it indicated that he was almost an hour and a half late.

"Sure, I don't mind."

He nodded again and sat himself down across from her. A silence riffled through them both for a moment and Christine found it hard to stop from staring at the menacing looking mask.

"How is your friend doing?" he asked softly, obviously referring to Meg.

"She's doing very well. Thank you again for helping her. I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't been there."

The man merely nodded and a small half smile crossing his features.

"I was supposed to be meeting with Raoul…but he's just running a little late. I'm sure he'll be here soon."

The masked man nodded, "Surely. I can't even begin to fathom anything that could keep him from you."

Christine's cheeks turned a slight red at the simple compliment.

"What, may I ask is your relation to this, Raoul?" he asked his eyes unreadable.

Christine's eyes flickered upwards and for a moment their eyes locked, sending a shiver down her spine. She hesitated only for a moment before replying,

"Raoul is my fiancée."

The masked man was silent for a moment, "I see. Then why is it that he keeps the love of his life waiting at a restaurant for almost 2 hours?"

Christine was shocked to hear his voice etched with a dangerous edge, "Well, I'm sure…he's on his way….he probably got caught up with his work or…something."

"I see no reason why that should be any sort of excuse."

Christine tried desperately to think of some reasonable reason why he could keep her waiting for so long that the man across from her would comprehend. "Well…he's…alright, he's mad at me. Terribly mad. I said some things to him that I shouldn't have said, and we got into this huge fight and he didn't want to talk to me. For a week he didn't even call! Well, he can't be blamed totally for that, I didn't exactly rush to the phone either. But you should have been there! Besides, this was his idea! He told me he'd be here, and he's not. He hasn't even called the restaurant to let me know where he is, and I have to sit here all by myself as the waitress gives me these pitying looks that make me feel even sorrier for myself."

There was silence between them and Christine was horrified to find that tears of frustration were slowly welling up in the corners of her eyes and slowly beginning to roll down her cheeks. Slowly she closed her eyes in embarrassment. The whole truth had been riffling at her, begging to be released, and although she was now slightly relived at having it off her chest, she was dreadfully and painfully embarrassed.

She blamed the mix of disappointment and alcohol.

"I'm sorry. You really don't care about all of my stupid problems." She said quietly trying to wipe the tears away from her face quickly.

The masked man watched her, at obvious loss of what to do. He panicked only for a moment before grabbing the napkin from his side of the table and weakly gesturing that she take it.

Christine let out a small laugh at the kind gesture, "Thanks."

She dabbed her eyes with the napkin and then laid it rest beside her. She stared intensely at her hands as she tried desperately to think of something else to talk about.

"So, how is your music going?"

"Um…very well, I am currently working on some original compositions. One in particular, I left it for awhile, but am really getting back into it now."

Christine's body relaxed slightly when he let the conversation change.

"That sounds wonderful. I could never write good music, it's so difficult!"

"Yes, it's quite challenging at times. But, I've recently had some inspiration, some all-consuming inspiration that makes it impossible for me to deny the right of the music to flow free onto the page."

Christine listened in wonder as the man described his work, "Yes that does sound incredible. I'd love to hear it."

The man laid his hand upon the table and folded them within each other, "Perhaps one day you will."

"Are you still playing at restaurants?"

"Yes, I am sorry to say."

"At La Bayou? I would really love to come and hear you play again. Hopefully something original."

The man looked more then a little bit surprised, "Really? Well I play in a week's time, Monday night at 7:30pm."

Christine smiled, "I can't wait."

The masked man gave her a small smile back and caused them both to be completely silent. After a few moments Christine broke her eyes away from his and glanced down at her watch.

"Well, I suppose Raoul isn't going to show. I might as well head home."

The man nodded and slowly stood, "I will accompany you."

Christine grabbed her bag from the table and took out her wallet, "No, that's really not necessary."

"Don't be ridiculous. I am smarter as to let an attractive young woman walk the streets of New York on her own at this late hour."

Christine shook her head, "No, it's really alright. I don't live far, and I'll probably just take a taxi."

"Taxi or not this city is filled with ghastly and unforgiving people and I will not let you fall prey to any of them."

Christine's heart sped up at she listened to his explanations spoken formally and honestly, and although the mention of those types of people scared her, she found she was a little relieved to have a companion for her trek home.

"Ok, thank you."


They walked outside into the dead of night and Christine pulled her thin jacket around her shoulders in an attempt to block out the cold gusts of wind. Her eyes scanned the streets trying to look for a taxi. But the street seemed to be deserted.

The masked man walked after her.

"Well, it seems we're walking."

The man nodded, "I have no objections to it."

They began to walk in silence down the street, cars whizzing by on the side of them.

"Oh sorry, I never got a chance to ask you…What is your name?"

Christine stopped walking and the masked face turned towards her, their eyes locked and Christine felt a strange feeling pass through her body. She no longer felt the cold gusts of wind and she no longer cared.

"Christine," Christine marveled at her name upon his lips, "My name is …"

"CHRISTINE!"

Instantly the spell was broken and she turned away to the voice shouting her name, as she squinted her eyes into the darkness trying to make out her caller she was intensely aware that the masked man's eyes were still on her.

"CHRISTINE!"

Christine's brow furrowed as she saw the form of a man running towards them, "Raoul?"

"CHRISTINE WAIT!"

"Raoul, stop yelling. I'm standing right here." She said looking around her as if embarrassed at his behaviors in front of the mysterious composer.

"It seems as if your fiancée has arrived," the masked man said, and Christine thought she heard a trace of bitterness laced into his tone. She, however, chose to ignore it.

"Christine I'm sorry, I'm here I just…" Raoul froze as he saw her masked companion, "and who, may I ask is this?"

Christine thought that she would be happy to see the man she had been waiting for all night, but for some reason at that moment, she had to fight back the unspeakable urge to slap him square in the face.