"I brought you more tea with honey." Meg announced, coming towards Christine's bed.

The poor soprano had fallen ill, however the doctor couldn't quite determine what she was sick with. She was diagnosed with a bad cold and the Giry ladies tended to her over the last week. Unfortunately, there hadn't been any improvements in her condition no matter how much tea, honey, soup, ginger, lemon, or other remedies Christine had. She was half-conscious most of the time anyways and unable to enjoy the festivities of Christmas that were about to take place. When she spoke in her frail voice, Christine only spoke of Erik and the stage.

"Thank you, Meg." The brunette coughed.

"Now, do not strain your voice just to thank me. I know you would do the same for me."

She smiled weakly.

"Oh, Raoul came yesterday and asked to see you. Maman didn't permit him to even come in the dormitory building."

"I don't wish to see anyone."

"And you shouldn't! Not until you feel better, at least."

Meg continued to talk about the other dancers or chorus girls and what their plans were over the upcoming holidays. The conversation helped pass some of the time while Christine drank the tea and listened to the gossip. Many of the girls either went to see their families or to remain with their friends at the Populaire. Christine was almost falling asleep again until Madame Giry entered the room to stand behind her daughter.

Her stern face never revealed much emotion to help Christine predict what she had come to say. The ballet mistress sat at the foot of her bed, looking down at the floor. Meg fell silent and waited for her mother to speak. Tension filled the room like a fog, the silence only making it more obvious. The soprano was more alert and sat up in bed to show her attention.

"The managers are to put on your tutor's Don Juan Triumphant as soon as you are well. They received the finished score last night." Madame Giry announced.

At this, the girl's weary eyes widened and she straightened her form: "How did they receive it? Is Erik alright?"

"Calm yourself, child. It was placed on the bureau of their office, and Erik...has been in better conditions."

"What do you mean, Madame?"

"I will not lie to you, Christine, he is worse than you. If no one had come to visit him soon, he could have very well died down in those cellars."

"Oh God!" The girl exclaimed in anguish, tears falling down her cheeks.

"He will be better soon, your tutor will not leave you unless it is what you wish."

"I could never wish him to leave me. Please tell me when Erik is returning!" She said before breaking into a fit of coughs.

"It would be best if you were well and then met with him. That is my final verdict." Madame Giry said, leaving the room hastily afterwards.

In her distressed state of mind, the soprano cried out at the thought of Erik being ill and not knowing what would become of him. Meg held her friend's weakened frame within her arms and felt pity for the ache in her heart.

It was shocking to feel how frail Christine was with this illness. It seemed to her naïve mind that this was no mere cold...perhaps a sickness stemming from the pain of losing her dear teacher. But the ballerina was intrigued at Christine: why was she so tormented by the dangerous and strange Phantom when the Vicomte was so willing?

With Raoul, the girl would have a title, a predictable life as a Vicomtesse, a youthful husband, and company of socialites. The blonde would've happily left with the Vicomte ages ago if offered the choice. But something bound Christine to her teacher.

She seemed happier after seeing him, quite different from the less inviting reaction she gave to Raoul for visiting her. And what did her mother mean by his being unwell? It was strange to think of the infamous Phantom being bedridden as Christine was.

But these thoughts led Meg to realize that her friend had always been a bit distant since her arrival at the Populaire. She always thought of the cause being her father's death. And yet, the girl always seemed to be quietly lost in her own world or attracted to something that piqued her curiosity. The Phantom was plenty of a mystery to capture the girl's attention for such a long time.

It seemed a true enough theory: Christine had always loved the darker, twisted operas whereas Meg preferred the light, comical operas about fantasy characters with happy endings. Her friend also spent many a night looking up at the stars glittering around the bright moon until she fell asleep. Perhaps the ballerina should've predicted that Christine would prefer Erik.

"Oh Meg, now it seems silly for me to be wallowing in bed with the new opera needing to be rehearsed within the next fortnight." Christine sighed.

"New opera?" A youthful male voice questioned from the doorway.

Both of the girls shifted positions to see Raoul standing a few meters away from the foot of Christine's bed. The blonde girl smiled politely at the Vicomte, but the brunette's expression revealed a sense of surprise, neither welcome nor unwelcome.

"What an unexpected visit, Raoul." Christine finally spoke, the weakened tone finding its way back into her voice.

"Ah, the honorable Madame Giry wouldn't permit me to wish you a hasty recovery earlier so I came to the conclusion that sneaking in here was my only choice. Do pardon me for any improperness." The young man smiled generously.

Meg piped up: "You are forgiven, Monsieur le Vicomte, for you bear no ill will in your actions."

"Thank you Mademoiselle Giry. Though you must call me Raoul."

"And you must call me Meg."

The two spoke kindly to one another, not wanting to cause poor Christine any strain in her sickened state. And it was no offense to the brunette, she didn't know what to say to Raoul anyways. Her mind was too befuddled about the news of Erik.

Raoul continued: "Well, which opera is being performed?"

At this Christine spoke: "It is titled Don Juan Triumphant and has never been put on anywhere else, as my own teacher wrote the score."

Discomfort appeared on his face at hearing of her tutor.

"Ah, yes, your teacher. Which roles do you both hope to secure?" Raoul questioned to change the topic.

"Oh, I would be happy with any larger ballerina role." Meg smiled.

Christine didn't say anything, which prompted the Vicomte to ask her directly about the opera.

"And you, Christine?"

The brunette had a bitter expression on her face, "I already know my role is supposed to be Amnita, the lead soprano. It was written for me."

"Ah yes, I should have predicted that." Raoul muttered.

An uncomfortable silence replaced their conversation, Meg attempting desperately to rid of the unease. But soon Madame Giry returned to guide her daughter out to stage with the other ballerinas so they could discuss the next show. The ballet mistress was, as always, incredibly stern and even more so upon seeing Raoul in the room. She thought him insolent for disobeying her instructions of propriety.

Christine's guests were all removed from the room and the girl breathed out a sigh of relief. The pressure they created by reminding her of Don Juan, Erik, and the unavoidable decision she knew had to be made. It was dreadful to have so much in mind whilst ill! Christine lied in complete boredom, wrapped up in a thin blanket, and attempted to clear her head. Her eyelids drooped heavily as she fell asleep but the feeling of someone's gaze troubled the girl momentarily.