"Lottie!" cried Raoul when he saw her on the steps outside of the Opera House. "I was so glad you changed your mind about dinner tonight."

He held the door of the carriage open for her and ushered her in. They exchanged polite pleasantries on the way to the restaurant, an Christine nearly despaired that the entire evening would be spent in such dull conversation over weather and the like.

Just as Erik had guessed, Raoul was taking her to one of the finest restaurants. She couldn't help but smile as they were led to a large booth on the side of the dining room that was equipped with curtains. He had apparently remembered, after all, that she didn't like to be out in the open where everyone could see her. That was terribly thoughtful of him, considering they hadn't even spoken in nearly seven years, she thought to herself. He ordered for them both before pulling the curtains shut and turning to her.

"Now, tell me everything!"

So she told as much of her time at the Opera as she thought he would find interesting, and he told her stories about being in the navy, and by the time they were eating dessert it was as though they never had parted.

As she laughed along to his tales of pranks on superior officers, she realized Erik had been right - the evening so far had been quite enjoyable. But still-

"Oh Raoul, I've had such a lovely time with you tonight. But I'm afraid I must be terribly honest with you, and I hope you shan't be angry with me."

Concern streaked across his youthful face.

"I could never be angry with you, Little Lottie."

She certainly hoped that was the case, as well.

"I just don't want any misunderstandings between us, Raoul. I like your company very much, and I am so happy to spend time with you again, but- but I am not looking for a serious beau at the moment. In fact, I am not looking for a beau at all. I do hope you can understand," she twisted her napkin between her hands nervously, hoping she hadn't spoiled the evening entirely.

Raoul was silent for a minute as he studied the empty ice cream dish in front of him before sighing.

"I must confess," he began. "I had rather hoped, when I first saw you the other night, that perhaps there would be... something there. But, after tonight I seem to find that my feelings for you are more of the... brotherly sort."

He raised his eyebrows before continuing with a sheepish grin.

"I do hope that you will not be too angry."

Christine laughed at this.

"You don't know what a relief it is to hear you say that!" she told him, shaking her head.

"So," he leaned back and cocked his head to the side. "Might I be so bold as to enquire why La Daae prefers to shun the company of men? You're not about to run off and join a convent, are you?"

"N-no! It's not like that!" she blushed at his teasing, unsure of what to tell him.

"Ah! But of course! There's someone else, isn't there?"

Christine opened her mouth to protest it, but couldn't find the words, only becoming more flustered.

"Oh goodness, Christine, I was merely joking, but there really is someone, isn't there?"

He leaned forward, interested.

"Who is this mystery man? Did I see him on stage? Ir is he not from the Opera?"

"Well... No, you didn't see him. He's my voice teacher, you see. Oh, it's very complicated!"

Raoul looked concerned at this.

"Your teacher? Is he good to you, Lottie? He's- he's not promising you better roles onstage if you court him, is he? I shall fight him for you if that's the case!" he cried passionately.

She sighed deeply.

"That's just it, Raoul - we aren't even courting," she told him in a small voice. "He's just my voice teacher and I- I feel... things towards him. He doesn't even know, or if he does he certainly doesn't care."

"That sounds awful, Lottie. I'm sorry."

She nodded.

"Believe me, I've tried to talk myself out of it. I know it's such folly but still! I just can't help it. He's just so darling."

"Tell me about him?"

Her face colored and she tried for a long moment about how to best describe him.

"I mean, what would you like to know about him?"

"Everything! What's he look like, where does he work? Is he a full time voice teacher?"

"Well... Erik is a bit of an eccentric, you see."

"Oh?"

"Yes, he wears a mask over half of his face - Madame Giry says it's because he's disfigured, but I've never seen him without it to know. He's a little taller than you, with dark hair and... bright eyes, and he's always dressed so finely. He, uh, I suppose you could say he works at the Opera House, in a way. He sort of- he just lives there, you know?"

Raoul nodded.

"You live there too, Christine - many of the performers do," he supplied.

She twisted the napkin harder.

"No, I mean- he lives in the Opera House- inside the walls I mean."

Raoul frowned.

"He what?"

"Well, no, I must be mistaken - I meant to say he lives in the cellars, he just so happens to spend most of his time in the walls."

Raoul carefully considered if perhaps Christine was not in her right mind, but she had seemed fine during the earlier part of their dinner.

"Christine," he said in a measured voice. "Take a deep breath and begin again."

She did as he suggested.

"Erik lives at Opera House and makes a salary by giving advice and critique to the managers - he's practically a manager himself! But he's terribly shy and tends to hide, on account of his disfigurement, you know, because people can be so cruel to those such as him. He's a musical genius, he really is, but he can't much more than ten years older than us. And yes, he's always been so good to me, you wouldn't believe how good. I never would have landed a solo role had he not encouraged me to try out for it, and he always makes me feel like I can achieve anything in the world if I only tried."

She ducked her head and blushed.

"The way I feel about him- I've never felt that way about anyone, Raoul."

Raoul's initial worries began to fade away.

"You should tell him, then, Lottie. How do you know he doesn't feel the very same about you?"

"Because he was rather insistent that I go out with you," her face fell a little. "I don't think he would want me to go out with anyone else if he had feelings for me."

"Well he's a buffoon if he can't see how wonderful you are," Raoul stated.

"Raoul!"

His words brought a smile to her sad face.

"He would be so angry to hear you say that," she giggled. "One time the managers refused to put on Hannibal like he wanted instead of Faust, and in the middle of the night he caused to the chandelier in the lobby to come crashing down. The noise terrified everyone, and there was so much glass to clean up afterwards. He can have a bit of a temper at times if you push him too far."

"A bit?!"

"Well, that's probably the baddest thing he's done, you know. And Hannibal did bring in quite a crowd, more than Faust would have. But oh, if you think that's wild, you should hear the stories some of the dancers tell about him!"

"Such as?"

"They call him - get this - they call him 'The Phantom of the Opera'! Half of them are convinced that he really is a ghost, that he can make blood ooze out of the floorboards and all other nonsense. Every little thing that goes wrong around there gets blamed on 'The Phantom', it's really so silly - although, there are times I do wonder if he's playing tricks on us, but I know he'd never do anything too cruel. He'll always be an Angel to me."

Her face had a far away dreamy look as she thought back to that first meeting with her Angel. Raoul couldn't help but smile at how happy she looked. If only, he thought, her Angel felt the same way about her. It was terribly sad to him that Christine's teacher didn't share her feelings.

He dropped her off in front of the Opera House with a hug and laughter, having already promised each other that they would spend as much time as they could together before he had leave on his next expedition. Neither one saw the figure standing at the balcony just above them.