In the morning, which was only signaled by Christine's awakening, the pair breakfasted quietly. Erik had been playing and composing all night, only requiring strong coffee as his meal; he also didn't want to remove his mask before his student only so he could eat more easily. Besides, his several years of malnutrition as a child caused him to feel little appetite throughout the rest of his life. In his mind, Erik was busy thinking of the proposition he was to make for Christine.
The girl seemed to suddenly remember her meeting with the Vicomte, finishing her meal quickly and excusing herself from the table to change clothes. She could feel her tutor's discomfort after mentioning Raoul to him. But it was of no matter, Christine thought herself as the mistress of her own actions and wouldn't allow Erik to overpower her. Of all the gowns in the subterranean home's closet, the young soprano picked out one made of a sky blue damask that complimented the color of her eyes. She pinned up part of her hair and put on the diamond earrings she'd worn last night.
"You look simply marvelous, my dear." Erik stated once the girl exited from her room.
"Thank you, Erik." She smiled.
"It is a shame that the effort is for the fop, but I digress." He said, stopping himself before Christine could grow angry at his rude behavior.
Instead, the girl remained silent and followed his lead back to the doorway out of his realm. The silence that was usually so calming was now distressing and awkward, only the swishing of Christine's skirt echoing in the expansive tunnels. They went up and crossed the golden threshold of the mirror passageway, leading to the candle-lit dressing room. Christine thanked Erik for the night and looked expectantly at his troubled expression.
His gaze was firmly fixed on the carpet-covered floor, the lantern still in his hand. Only the unmasked side of his face was in Christine's view and she focused on his shadowy form in the dim lighting...waiting. It was clear that the man was trying to formulate the words to convey what was on his mind.
"My dear girl, please do not forget your teacher. I have constantly asked you to do so, although that was when you believed me to be a supernatural being and told you not to be distracted."
"It would be impossible for me to forget you, mon Ange."
"The request is for my own reassurance, but keep it in mind while with the Vicomte."
Not completely understanding exactly what he alluded to, Christine nodded emotionlessly and waved goodbye to the sorrowful man. With a swish of his black cape, Erik vanished, leaving the mirror just as it was before.
The girl stood alone, thinking of the irony that the Populaire was putting on such an opera, especially with Christine as the lead role. Both Raoul and Erik made it clear that they had interests in her. However, the difference was that Christine was to make a choice and couldn't simply follow whoever she'd been betrothed to.
Several of her recent nights were spent with Erik...it was only fair that she had at least today with Raoul. The soprano cared for both of them and wanted to have relations with each, but she could only remain with one. Her over-thinking mind became occupied at weighing the benefits and losses of choosing either.
Hearing the conversation of ballerinas outside of her dressing room, Christine went out and made her way out to where she was meant to meet with Raoul, knowing that he would be there soon. The luxurious halls and rooms of the Populaire which normally felt inviting, now felt cold. Thinking of such a dilemma spoiled her mood, but she put on a smile for the Vicomte.
There he stood- right beside one of the dark statues of women that held up a candelabra, studying the detail of her form. Upon noticing Christine's delicate footsteps on the marble floors, Raoul turned to face her with a bright grin. It would've been contagious on any other day, but the circumstances made it difficult for her smile so brightly.
"Hello Lotte, you look marvelous." Raoul greeted, offering her the crook of his arm.
She accepted his arm and responded teasingly, "Thank you, Monsieur le Vicomte."
"It's quite warm outside, but the park has plenty of trees for shade."
"Sounds wonderful, Raoul."
The went out of the massive, arching doorway and were blinded momentarily by the sunlight. A conversation-less minute passed as they walked towards the park.
"I heard some of the other performers on their way out talking about some ghost story from the Opera. It reminded me of your father, if you don't mind my mentioning him."
"Of course not." She assured, "What sort of ghost story?"
"A phantom with a mask that plays tricks on little ballerinas and helps the managers make decisions with his threatening letters."
"That's quite funny." Christine said, masking any feelings in her voice.
"It's odd. As a patron, the managers have spoken to me about this apparent ghost and showed me the letters. Firmin believes it to be a strange man living somewhere in the Populaire, possibly a dangerous one as well."
"How would a man possibly do the things the Phantom has done? It would require an impossible level of skill. Additionally, it would be obvious if a man lived inside the theatre and no one's discovered such a man."
"Very true." He paused, "They also mentioned you were missing after rehearsals and performances."
"Perhaps they didn't know where to look. I barely left the opera and remained primarily in my dressing room or met with my vocal instructor."
"The ghost seems to favor you." Raoul continued.
"I...suppose." Christine agreed, refusing to meet his eyes with the suspicion in his voice.
"Are you sure there is no reclusive man in the theatre?"
"Rao-"
"Christine, please. I will believe you if you insist that it's the truth. There simply can't be a ghost."
"I am being honest." She lied, directing her gaze back at him for reassurance.
"Alright. I had to know that you weren't in danger, especially of such a peculiar man."
"Thank you for your concern. But there is no danger whatsoever for me at the opera."
"Good. And you never told me who this unknown instructor you keep seeing is, no one seems to know anything about this individual. Even Mademoiselle Giry didn't answer my questions."
Alarms went off in Christine's mind at the comment. What if Raoul suspected? Perhaps it would only be fair that they both knew of each other, and Christine hated lying to the Vicomte. It would also be wrong to betray the secret of Erik's existence. This day seemed to complicate itself further and further. And all the while she was quiet, Raoul began to stare at the girl in confusion.
"Did I say something? I didn't mean to overstep my boundaries." The young man questioned.
"Oh no, my teacher just dislikes being spoken of and remains quite private."
"Your Angel as you called him before?"
"Well, you remember that my father promised me an angel and that was what I consider my tutor to be."
"Ah, of course. It was just ironic that you call this man an angel and deny that there is a different man pretending to be a ghost at the Populaire."
"I suppose."
The pair arrived at the café Raoul planned for them to eat at, sitting down at a table with a distinct tension in the air. Once the waiter took their order and left them alone for a little while, the conversation livened again.
"Christine, I am no fool. It seemed strange that there was this unseen ghostly figure that favored you as well as a teacher you believed to be an angel. He has clearly captured your attention and requires a lot of devotion from you." Raoul asserted.
She sighed, "Forgive me. As I said, he is a very private man and I don't wish to betray his privacy."
"You are neither confirming nor refuting my suggestion."
Christine sipped her tea and stared down at the lacy tablecloth.
"Raoul, could we please talk of something else?"
She had finished her small plate and tea, staring out at the calm passersby strolling about. What bliss it would be to not be plagued with an impossible dilemma. It also would've been a wonderful early afternoon: dark green trees dotting the sidewalks, pale sunlight shining over the view, traditional Parisian-style architecture, distant music from street-performers, and wafting smells of freshly-baked doughs. Christine was developing a headache from the war going on inside her mind.
The Vicomte seemed to grow impatient at her silence, and she knew it as well. The whole situation made her feel guilty about leading on both men as she took her time trying to sort out her own feelings. It was strange to have been left alone throughout her entire life and then be faced with two possible suitors. The soprano was still young- she wasn't prepared to make such a decision anyways.
Once the waiter brought out the bill, Raoul quickly paid and took Christine along by the crook of the arm. It was clear that both of them were distraught. They were too lost in their thoughts and too discomforted by the results of the last discussion to strike up another one. Luckily, the Populaire was a short distance away so they returned soon.
Just before the entrance, in between two of the white columns, Raoul pulled the girl aside. Finally, their eyes met and Christine seemed surprised at his abruptness.
"I hope you can forgive me for being so bold today, but I just had to ease my mind."
"It is alright, Raoul. I understand."
"Thank you for joining me this afternoon, good day."
"Good day to you as well, and thank you for the invitation." She smiled faintly.
Raoul pulled her arm closer to himself slightly, just enough for him to kiss her cheek as a goodbye. The girl would've welcomed his friendly gesture but the feeling of someone watching them made her uncomfortable and feel exposed.
The Vicomte left in his extravagant carriage as Christine waved goodbye to him. A few cast members stood beside the doorway, likely to eavesdrop on them, and greeted the young soprano as she entered. But Christine only wished to see Meg, the only person who wasn't putting any sort of pressure on her.
She walked throughout the hallways and dormitories, trying to find the blonde ballerina to no avail. Meg wasn't in her room, nor her mother's room, nor onstage, nor in a practice room, nor in the kitchens. There was only one other place to check: the stables. Horses always appealed to most of the girls, but Meg was especially attracted to the serenity she felt whilst caring for them.
On her way towards the back doors, Christine heard a voice...the voice of her teacher.
Boldness is unexpected for Vicomtes.
"Erik, please. He simply asked me a question that I refused to answer."
Hmm...a bold question?
"Yes. He put two-and-two together; he's figured out that the Populaire's Phantom is also my instructor and most definitely not a supernatural being."
Intriguing, the boy actually has a brain! Hopefully not one of foolish impulses.
"Raoul is very kind and wouldn't harm you even if he had any evidence."
Perhaps...but I've learned to trust nobody. The closest is you.
"Well, what do you want me to do Erik? I will not be tossed around like a toy and ordered around like a dog!" She exclaimed.
Indeed. You deserve the utmost respect, my dear, but I fear this will not end until you make a decision.
"I dread that. May I go see Meg now?"
Ah, your friend is not on the premises today. She has gone out with a red-haired fop.
"Are all other men fops to you?"
Mostly, others are imbeciles and very few are decent.
"What of the Daroga?"
Imbecile. A helpful one, but an imbecile nonetheless.
"He deserves a rest from caring for you all these years."
Exactly why he is an idiot- how could one stand to be around myself for that long?
"Don't be so critical of yourself. Appearances are shallow things that worsen no matter what happens, especially for cruel people."
If only the rest of the world had your heart, Christine. Goodbye.
"What do you mean?"
Silence.