It was the night of the winter masquerade and Christine smiled at her own reflection as she pinched her cheeks so to emit a healthy and charming glow. Her grin widened as she took a step back and looked at her full reflection in the tall mirror in her large and opulent dressing room.

She was as perfect as a painting, her dress was as white as an angels wings with glittering crystals sewn in to make her sparkle like a diamond. Her beautiful brown tresses were pinned up in a way to frame her face perfectly before cascading down her partially bare back.

she turned and giggled feeling wonderfully. she hadn't felt this good in along time, even if her angel was no longer in her life. she shook her head slightly to rid her mind of thoughts of her absent angel. she could no longer tire herself over thinking about him, she had angered him that night she found the stark white mask and ever since then he never visited her again. she no longer had a teacher, she no longer had her mystically friend.

she sighed sadly. it was like loosing a loved one. no not as tragic as when her father had died but more so as if her lover had left her for another. she sighed again and went towards the door. on the way out she picked up the mask she was to wear for the masquerade, a white affectation that went across both her eyes and was adorned with tiny crystals around the holes where her eyes were to peer out of.

Christine put on her mask and left her dressing room.

-o-

"Andre! Have you heard the news?" Richard Firmin asked his business partner.

"Obviously not, and I suppose your going to tell me then?" Andre raised an eyebrow smiling.

"Monsieur Gurriur! He is here!" Richard proclaimed, hardly capable of containing his excitement.

"The Opera House architect?" Andre ask quizzically.

Richard paused and then shook his head. "I am not sure about that but the Monsieur Gurriur who wrote the arias for the winter season!"

"Erik Gurriur?" Andre asked now very interested. "Now that is interesting."

"Yes, I know, he is all the rave with the ladies, I had no idea that he was so young!" Richard said with a hint of scandal in his voice.

"Really how young?" Andre countered now searching for the composer.

"Oh I would guess no older than thirty-two maybe thirty-four?" Richard estimated.

"My goodness that is young for possessing such talents, now isn't it." Andre asked standing slightly on his toes in order to get a larger view of the ballroom. "Now point him out already so that I may introduce myself."

"Yes, yes he is right over there, the one in red. Red Death I believe is what he is dressed as. You know the one from Poe's most recent story." Richard rambled.

"Ah yes the one surrounded by all the women." Andre smirked. "And yet he seems to be ignoring them all, odd."

"Maybe he's one of those dandies" Richard said absently turning his attention to the supplant figure of Meg Giry and the other ballerinas.

"Perhaps I will go see for myself." Andre declared and made his way towards the man in red.

-o-

Christine came from the side corridor and into the colossal ballroom, with its mighty staircase and lavish gold statues. She smiled at all of the adoring fans and politely took the compliments.

"Miss Daae your voice is stupendous!"

"Mademoiselle your talent is sent from the gods themselves."

"Christine darling, however did you learn to sing like that?"

She smiled and gave amiable answers. Finally she came to the throng of corps de la ballet dancers and let out the breath she wasn't aware she was holding. she put her arm though Megs and whispered in her ear. "I never knew I was going to be so well received."

Meg smiled up at her best friend. "Well, with a voice like your Miss Daae what would you expect?"

Christine laughed at Megs uncanny mocking of all of her newly obtained fans.

"Oh my Christine I almost forgot! The man who wrote all the arias for the winter season, he's here!"

Christine looked at her friend startled. This Erik Gurriur, the mysterious composer whom indulged her musical love affair with his work was at the ball? She smiled and was suddenly eager to meet the man.

"Is he? Well, I would love to speak with him." She smiled.

"Oh believe me when you see the man you will want more than causal conversation!" Meg giggled. Christine pinched her friend for her frankness sending the two girls into fits of laughter.

"Well, now I must speak with him!" Christine said through her giggles and cast her eyes around the room in search for this supposedly handsome Monsieur Gurriur.

-o-

Andre approached the intimidating figure of m. Gurriour and bowed to acknowledge his much appraised talent and presence at the winter ball.

Gurriur bowed back slightly, sending an air of arrogance. Andre examined the man and just his sheer size! Andre knew he was a small man at his stocky five foot five inches but this man was easily over six feet tall and his presence and demeanor made him seem even larger. up close it was also easy to see why the women were flocking his way. He was strikingly handsome even with half of his face covered by the skull inspired mask. His long cap of slicked back black hair was striking against his white skin and sea green eyes. he was tall and slim and obviously strong under his red visage. Andre would hate to think how sickeningly beautiful the man would be without the mask.

Andre cleared his throat and took out his hand to be shook by the now famous composer. Monsieur Gurriur shook the hand with a fierce grip.

"Well, met Monsieur and must I say that your arias and opera were amazing. Very beautiful I must say."

"They are only half of what they appear to be because of who sang them." Gurriur replied with no emotion in his deep clear voice.

"Yes, miss Daae, she has an astounding voice," andre said dismissive, more interested in whether this Erik Gurriur was willing to supply them with a spring score of arias or perhaps even an opera. "So Monsieur, may I call you Erik?"

"No." he said flatly.

Andre cleared his throat again now feeling awkward "yes well I was wondering if we should be expecting more of your wonderful arias for the spring season?"

"I am not sure of that of yet. I would first like to meet the woman who brought life to my work if you don't mind," and with that the tall man in red left a slacked jawed manager standing alone on the grand staircase.

-o-

Raoul de Changy walked up to the radiant Christine with his hand drawn outward to take hers. " may I have this dance?" he asked a boyish grin placed upon his handsome face.

Starteled Christine turned to her old friend and forced a smile back at him. Hadn't she made it clear she wasn't interested in him in that way. "Oh no thank you, I am afraid the night has already began to take a toll on me and if I am to stay any longer I shouldn't dance. Nothing exhausts me faster than a waltz." She said trying to be light hearted.

Raoul tried to mask his disappointment.

"I would love to dance!" proclaimed the tiny voice of Little Jammes, a young ballerina.

Raoul smiled politely and took her hand in his and took her out the dance floor to waltz away his embarrassment.

"Why do you like rejecting handsome men?" Meg asked amused.

"I don't like it." Christine replied.

"Then why do it?" Meg giggled.

"I don't like him in the way he likes me and I wouldn't want to give him the wrong impression." Christine sighed out.

"Its a shame, him being so handsome and so very rich." Meg sighed and then giggled.

Christine shoved her playfully and laughed.

"Oh Christine! There, there is the famous Erik Gurriur!" Meg exclaimed and pointed to a tall man in red who was making his way toward them.

When Christine finally focused on him he was standing in front of her in all his glory she all but had to keep her mouth from dropping open in sheer shock.

"Mademoiselle Daae, it is a pleasure to finally meet you," he held out his hand and she placed hers in his and watched in awe as he lightly kissed the top of her silk white glove.

She smiled politely and tried to keep from turning bright red.

She cleared her throat and beamed up at him."I believe Monsueir it is my pleasure, your work is magnificent."

"Only because you sang it my dear," he grinned slightly down at her.

She all but had to keep herself from fainting, the man was a dream. He was talented and beautiful, the energy he sent through her electrifying. "Thank you..." she practically stammered out.

He laughed slightly deep in his throat, it was a low intimate sound that made her feel bare and embarrassed and yet it was slightly familiar sound. Had she heard that laugh before? She shook the thought of her head, she wasn't going to let any other memory or thought cloud her senses now, she was going to fully appreciate everything the man in front of her had made her feel and was going to talk about his music.

"Your arias are Mousier you are truly the most amazing composer I have come across!" Christine exclaimed adoringly.

"Yes, they nearly had us all in tears." Meg added, her eyes full of lust for the handsome man in front of her.

Erik all but ignored the luscious ballerina next to Christine as his charming smirk turned slightly arrogant at the sound of the singers adoration. Erik couldn't believe what was happening, Christine was staring at him the way he dreamed she would. she was proclaiming him to be the most talented composer. And he thought almost saw something of want glitter in her eyes. He was nearly exploding with love for her. Then before his better judgment could ease into his conscious he offered Christine his hand.

"May I have this dance Mademoiselle?"