Author's Note: Hey there! This is Stephanie and I bring forth the second chapter, written by Brittany and edited by myself! First off, before we start, I'd like to thank a certain somebody for being our very first reviewer! ckontowderdon32, that means so much to an author when you give feedback. I'd never thought I would get so excited over two words!
Disclaimer: I don't own Erik's boxers with the cute little masks on them, okay? Not like I would know they have little masks on them. No sir, not me. :looks around innocently:
Christine fled down one of the opera houses' long corridors, trying to figure out what was going on. She finally reached the ballerina's dormitories and sat on one of the many uncomfortable cots, which belonged to her best, and only real friend, Meg Giry.
That was how Meg found her. Christine was sitting frozen on the tiny bed, her eyes wide and her face ghostly white.
"Christine, whatever is wrong?" Meg asked, concerned for her dear friend.
Meg's sudden arrival and question broke Christine away from her trance like state. She looked into Meg's bright blue eyes with fright, as if she hadn't even noticed Meg had entered the room. "Meg, you wouldn't believe me if I told you."
"Oh Christine, stop talking such foolishness! Why on earth would I not believe you? But do tell me on the way down to the gala, everyone has been wondering where you are. They're very worried." Meg began to stand but sat again when she saw her friend shake her head in protest.
"No, I can't go to the party now. I'm just to shaken up to be able to enjoy myself. I need time," she sighed, rubbing her temples.
"Whatever about, Christine?" Meg asked, worry in her light and airy voice. She squeezed Christine's hand lovingly.
"You see, I was in the chapel praying and thinking about..." Christine hesitated, wondering if Meg would think her mad if she told her of her angel.
"Your father?" Meg offered, attempting to help.
"Well, yes, and also...do you remember me telling you the story my father used to tell me about the Angel of Music?" Christine asked, desperately hoping Meg would understand what she was trying to explain.
"Yes, I remember..." Meg replied, obviously confused but Christine knew she was telling the truth. Christine had told Meg countless of times about her father's story that it would be impossible for Meg not to remember.
"Well, you see, I think my father has sent me my Angel of Music at last," Christine said, biting her bottom lip, waiting for Meg's reaction.
Meg smiled brightly, "Of course he has! I think your amazing voice proves that!" Meg exclaimed.
Christine didn't return the smile, "No, Meg, you don't understand. For a long time now I have been hearing this voice. I thought it was my imagination, but now I know different!" Christine held Meg's hands in hers tightly.
"Christine, are you telling me you actually saw your angel?" Meg asked, her eyes wide as Christine's had been before.
"He said my name, Meg! I heard the sound of fabric behind me, as if someone had been passing by, and I saw his shadow cast on the wall of the chapel." Christine's eyes wandered off as she thought of the tall male figure that was silhouetted on the chapel wall.
"Are you sure?" Meg asked, running a hand over Christine's cool forehead.
"More than anything, I know that I have finally found my Angel of Music," Christine said.
Meg nodded unconvincingly and stood, still holding her friend's hands, forcing Christine to stand as well.
"I believe you, Christine, but I fear that we must now attend that gala before we make our managers and, more importantly, my mother angry," Meg said with skepticism in her voice as she took Christine with her down to the lobby of the Opera House and to the winter seasons opening gala.
The opera managers swelled with pride as they looked over the amazing turn out of their winter gala. The ball was just a promise of what was to come. The guests danced merrily, and joyfully spoke about the upcoming shows for the season. Richard Firmin slapped his good friend, and fellow manager, André on the back.
"This is quite the sensation, isn't it?" Firmin boasted.
"Yes, Richard, I must say it seems that all of Paris' high society has decided to celebrate the new season with us!" André bellowed, waving to a cute and scaddly clad ballerina.
"Ha! Look, it is our Patron the Viscount!" Firmin said, motioning for the young Viscount De Chagny to join them in observing the grand spectacle.
"Beautiful evening! Mounsiours, I must congratulate you on your successes of last seasons productions. Let's only hope this coming season is as promising as everyone predicts!" Raoul De Chagny laughed joyfully, his blue eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.
"But of course, it will be! I have no doubt about it!" André replied.
"Now, my friends, may I ask you where your leading lady is hiding?" Rauol winked and smiled at them both.
They laughed and looked at each other, exchanging worried expressions. "Well, Viscount, is she not here?" Firmin asked, a tinge of panic showing in his voice.
"No, I haven't seen here." Raoul said plainly, waiting for the manager's explanation on Christine's absence.
"Oh, well, let me just go and retrieve her then!" André said, a bead of sweat sliding down his forehead, but forcing a smile nonetheless.
André walked off hurriedly in search of their new diva, Christine Daae, only to run into an equally upset ballerina mistress, Madame Giry.
"Madame, I am searching for Miss Daae. Would you happen to have-" André began, but the hot tempered woman before him cut him off.
"No, I have not see her! But when I do, I will let her and my daughter know that I am not a bit pleased!" Madame Giry huffed and went backstage in search for the two young women.
Christine and Meg walked down one of the many staircases on their way down to the winter gala, only to hear the sound of pounding footsteps coming up towards them. Meg clutched Christine's hand a little tighter as the footsteps became louder. Joseph Buquet surprised ballerina's when they were wondering around by themselves too often nowadays.
"Megan Giry! Where in God's name have you been!" Madame Giry bellowed at the small prima ballerina.
"I was looking for Christine so that I could take her to the gala, mama!" Meg squeaked in return.
"Then Christine, may I ask you why you have felt the need to miss two hours of a gala that is practically in your honor!" Madame Giry asked heatedly, tapping her foot impatiently.
"I...I...I was in the chapel an-" Christine began, stuttering over every word. Never had she seen her ballet mistress so angry.
"We are all good Christians, Christine, but must you pray now!" Madame Giry's voice was steadily getting louder.
"I was only just...I...I..."
"How dare you leave the party without even speaking to anyone, your patron even!" Madame Giry was now yelling as loud as she possibly could.
"I didn't mean to be rude, I just..." Christine tried to explain, but her voice wasn't letting her speak correctly, and before she knew it, her tears began to cascade down her cheeks.
"You didn't mean to be rude? Christine, how is this behavior going to reflect on me? Or worse, even your managers! I can not believe you! I am so disappointed, in the both of you!" Madame Giry threw up her hands and stormed off.
"Christine, it's all right..." Meg began, but Christine yanked her hand away.
"NO, IT ISN'T ALL RIGHT! NOTHING IS ALL RIGHT ANYMORE!" Christine screamed in frustration and ran off, leaving her friend behind.
Christine just kept running and running, paying no attention to where her feet were taking her. She went up spiraled staircases and through barren tunnels. The lights kept getting dimmer and she was running into less people, but she didn't care. She just wanted to get out of there. Away from Madame Giry, away from her managers...from everyone and everything. How did everything get so confuseing so fast?
Finally, she met up with a wall. A big poster hung loosely on the stone wall from Faust, a previous production that was held at the Opera House many years ago, and in her anger, Christine began yanking and tearing at the poster, screaming curses at the top of her lungs.
"Christine...Christine..."
She heard it again, the voice that had haunted her dreams. She looked around her, wanting and needing to see her angel, but as always there was nothing. Christine collapsed on the floor next to the shredded Faust poster and cried, not knowing what else to do.
"Christine! Christine!" She heard the echo of Meg's calls and the patter of her tiny feet on the stone floor.
Christine, not wanting to be found, looked around desperately and noticed a small wooden door in front of her, just where she had ripped down the gigantic Faust poster. Why would someone cover this door with an advertisement? she wondered.
Without any further hesitations, she opened the door and found herself running through a pitch
black corridor.
Well I hope you enjoyed the chapter and if you didnt pick up on it this one was inspired by Little Mermaid. Just think of when Tritan got mad at her for missing the show she was supposed to be in with her sisters. LOL...yes thats right we are disney dorks!
Please read and review!