Christine fumbled with her keys as she reached the door to her apartment. Her trembling hands couldn't grab the correct key, and then putting that key in the lock increased the challenge even further. This cold was getting ridiculous. She always blamed the cold. But that statement was only partially true today. Raoul's close presence at her side did not help her nerves. He watched her intensely, making her feel as if she had to hurry her every movement.

The date had been swell. They could talk together for ages, but as she noticed halfway through the date, they were all topics from the past. How they met each other at the beach, how he fetched her scarf, her father playing the violin and all the stories they read when they were kids. It was nice to dive back into pleasant past memories, it brings a sense of nostalgia. But it's not a lasting topic. Christine needed to look into the future and not be hung up in the past, that was dangerous territory if she thought of the wrong thing at the wrong time. So, she refrained to do so whenever it was possible. But, alas, the past cannot escape anyone.

And the same was with Raoul. He insisted on joining her on the walk home. Very gentlemanly, but what was she expected to do now, now that he was at the door with her? Does she invite him inside? What message does that send? Does she say goodbye right now, right here? That just makes her look as if she is done with him already.

She admitted, she wasn't done with him. His presence was pleasant and he had always been kind to her. She didn't want him to leave her again. Yet, she didn't feel more for him than any other person. But he did.

At last, Christine managed to open the door to the apartment without having to call the landlord or break in by force. Looking down at the ground, she thought of which aforementioned approach to take with Raoul.

He beat her to it, "So... Christine... I've had a lot of fun today."

She looked back up at him and gave him a polite smile, "Yes, me too!" she grabbed the doorknob and continued, "I'm going to head inside, the cold might freeze my toes off at this point."

Raoul looked like he was about to say something, but then only smiled and gave a short bow, "Very well. I hope to see you again soon, Christine."

Then, he leaned in unexpectedly. Was he about to kiss her?!

In a quick motion, Christine turned her head so his kiss would land on her cheek. She noticed that, when Raoul felt her cheek instead of her lips, he opened his eyes slightly and pulled back. What was she to do now? Oh, she was so embarrassed.

"Alright, uhm... See you soon, Raoul!" she blurted out and walked inside, closing the door swiftly, not even giving him a chance to say anything back in time.

Christine leaned against the door and sighed, slowly sinking down until she sat on the floor.

It didn't help that she had barely kissed anyone else before this. At least, not on the lips as lovers usually do. Panic overtook her and instincts thought that turning her head so he would kiss her cheek was better than politely declining. Or, just because she was young and should try out new things, just go with it.

Maybe this was for the best, she thought. Now, Raoul also knew how she felt about the whole situation, hopefully. Nevertheless, she should still thank him for everything through a text message later on. It's the least she can do after their last awkward encounter.

"Aw, not a good date?"

Meg appeared from the kitchen and peeked her head out into the hallway where Christine was sitting against the entrance door.

"N-No, it was fine. But..." she got interrupted by Meg throwing a bag of chips at her.

"Wait! I want some snacks for this. Come, join me in the living room so we can talk about it better!"

Christine got up and grabbed the bag of chips. How sweet, Meg had bought her favourite flavour. That made her quite excited to get to the living room as fast as she could. Meg sat down and patted the couch next to her. Christine plopped down and sighed again while opening the bag of chips. At the same time, Meg opened up her chocolate bar and took a small bite out of that.

Christine started, "Well, the date went really great! We talked about our childhood, we re-told the stories we memorized as children, while papa was in the other room practising his music. Talked about how we used to be so close to each other... ah, he also spoke about how in high school he would tell people he had a girlfriend, which was apparently me... he's apologized for it now, of course, but he said that the thought of me got him through some rough years at that school. I guess that was pretty sweet to hear-"

"Oooh! Sounds like someone's got a cru-hu-sh!" Meg said in a high-pitched voice.

Christine only laughed, mostly to give herself some time to think about how to respond, "Who, him or me?"

"Well, I do hope both of you?"

"That's the thing, Meg. I don't think I have a crush on him. We had a great time, that's for sure, and he's so sweet..."

"...But you felt nothing."

Christine nodded, "I was thinking that maybe I forgot how to love men, you know. It's been so long anyways, my brain doesn't do 'crushing' anymore."

Meg scoffed, "Don't be silly. You'll know it when you feel it. And it will happen someday again, trust me! A brain might forget, but the heart will always know."

"Someday, perhaps. That someday isn't anytime soon, let me tell you that."

Christine put a whole bunch of chips in her mouth as if trying to eat her troubles away. Then, she continued talking, hoping to change the topic for now, "So, tell me. anything new at work?"

Meg thought for a second and chewed on her chocolate, "Oh, yes! You will never believe it. Suzanne has been caught sleeping with one of the violinists!"

"Suzanne? The other ballerina student?"

"Yes! I told you she was acting strange! Turns out, it was just happiness or something."

Christine pulled a face, a mix of laughter and confusion. She wasn't sure how to reply to that, "Well... good for Suzanne."

"Oh, yeah no she's fired."

Poor Suzanne.

Meg continued, "Ah, I almost forgot!" she sat up straight and swallowed another piece of her chocolate, not putting it down on the table in front of her, "Carlotta and Erik got into a huge fight today on stage. Apparently, she's left her position as prima donna. But I think it's just her being overly dramatic-"

"Wait, what?!" Christine was mildly stunned, but not completely surprised that Erik was involved.

"Yeah, apparently they disagreed on how a part of a song should be sung. He said, and I quote, 'any performer on stage should feel and understand the piece they sing and perform, and if you, as a prima donna, can't sing the aria without any emotion attached to it, why do we even bother performing at all?'"

Christine thought about it. There was a truth to what he said, based on what she had heard from Carlotta before.

"So, what about the understudy? Who is going to perform instead?"

"There is no understudy for 'La Carlotta'!" Meg told her.

"No understudy? What if she doesn't return? That means..." Christine gasped, "you won't be able to perform at all?"

Meg nodded. She was always so positive, so, even in this situation, she hoped Carlotta would return soon. But something deep inside of her, she knew she probably wasn't going to.

"Oh, Christine! On one hand, I'm relieved, because I couldn't stand her singing and obnoxious attitude anymore, but now if she's completely gone... it means that the production is cancelled!"

"Meg..."

Christine couldn't say much that could cheer her up, so she hugged her tight instead, rubbing her back slightly for comfort.

"Don't worry, Meg, I have faith that all will be fine. And, either way..." Christine grabbed the remote for the tv in front of them and switched on Netflix, "a new episode of The Walking Dead came out. Seeing zombies getting ripped apart always cheers you up, right?"

Meg nodded and eagerly looked at the tv screen, hoping that her troubles would fade quickly.

The following morning, Christine woke up earlier than usual to start her morning shift. She was lucky that she had evening classes at university and they were overall very flexible with the schedule: As long as you pass the exams, you can do whatever the hell you want. At least, she remembers her teacher Sorelli telling her so.

She put on her usual combination of clothes, a beige sweater with black trousers. She grabbed her bag and some lunch and was out the door in no time.

They had told her to clean the gathering area, which was apparently the official name of the ballroom, as well as any surrounding hallways.

It brought back both memories of the New Year's masquerade party. His blue eyes still visit her at night when she was asleep. Thinking of his full presence, his intense stare and his smell overtook her each time she thought back at the short time she has spent with him. Sadness replaced that happiness rather quickly when she faced the reality that she might never see him again.

Switching to another topic, she thought back to her first day at her new job. It's been about a week since she started and she was physically exhausted. But at least she'd get a good reputation with the managers and other performers if she ever got to see them again. The job was... lonelier than she had initially imagined. There weren't many people walking about the opera during her hours. Performers were barely heard walking in or practising.

As she was mopping the marble floor of the gathering area, she was startled as she heard a voice... singing a song!

Nighttime sharpens, heightens each sensation

Darkness stirs and wakes imagination

A very... alluring song.

Silently the senses abandon their defences

It was a male's voice.

Slowly, gently night unfurls its splendour

Grasp it, sense it, tremulous and tender

And it was the most beautiful voice she's ever heard.

Turn your face away from the garish light of day

Turn your thoughts away from cold, unfeeling light

She felt herself go into some sort of trance, closing her eyes and getting lost in the song completely.

And listen to the music of the night...

Before she knew it, the voice has disappeared and she regained back her senses. She wanted to know who this voice belonged to. She... needed to hear him sing again. And again...

She looked around, desperately trying to find the source. She looked behind the pillars she was standing close to, turning her head to both doors at opposite ends of the room, hoping to see a figure.

"Looking for something?"

The voice. Wait, it's THAT voice.

Christine turned towards Erik, who has now exposed himself in the centre of the gathering room.

"So, about that comment from yesterday..." he approached her, and she noticed she was walking towards him as well, "do you take it back?"

She didn't listen, "Y-Your voice..." she had to look him in the eyes to continue and not accidentally fall back into the trance from before, "it was like a dream. Angelic, but dark... hypnotizing me..."

She wasn't able to form correct sentences anymore, feeling the distress of knowing it was Erik who had sung that song but now also feeling strangely bound to him, wanting to hear more and go back to that dream-like state. Her emotions didn't make sense anymore.

"That's quite the exaggeration, my dear." Erik spoke, "but I do know enough theory to conduct such practices. I know techniques no one else is aware of."

Christine stood still, not knowing what to do with that information. She looked down at her shoes.

Erik continued, "Do you need me to sing again or are you going to accept my offer?"

Yes. Sing again.

Christine suddenly remembered his offer from the day before, "You still want to mentor me?"

He nodded slowly, looking her in the eyes and piercing right through her. It was like he had her in his grip with one glance.

"...when do we begin?"

Christine stood in front of the backdoor of the opera house, the place where Erik had told her to wait for him the other day. It was late at night, everyone must have already left, except for Erik. She questioned herself as to why she had accepted his offer again. If he would have asked her now, she would have refused. The trance she was in must have clouded her mind and rational thoughts. Who even thinks it's a good idea to agree to meet an older, masked man at the backdoor of an empty opera house? Well, apparently Christine from a couple of days ago thought it was a great idea.

She could still turn back. The opportunity was there. Waiting for her to grasp it.

Yet, there was some curiosity beneath everything. His enchanting voice was like an angel's. She knew she was going to be in great hands with her new master if he could mentor her and teach her new techniques.

Her thoughts got interrupted by the backdoor opening. Erik stood in its frame, looking down at the smaller figure that was Christine. He signalled her to come inside in a hushed tone and moved aside so she could enter. She did as she was told.

The door behind them closed, revealing now the incredibly unlit hallway. Christine didn't know where to go and where to look until she stopped to look at the glow emanating from Erik's eyes. Her only source of light. She noticed him looking downwards at her hands and, when she looked down as well, noticed he was offering his. A gloved hand stretched out and waited for her to take it. She placed her hand in his hesitantly.

He guided her through the dark hallway. The further they walked, the darker it got. Everything must have already been turned off completely. An interesting thought popped into her head: Are people not allowed to know that Erik stayed after hours in the opera? Is that why everything was turned off?

They stopped in front of a dark door. He let go of her hand, revealing the cool air from the hallway onto her palm. As he opened the large door, it revealed a large source of light. Christine blinked as she walked inside and her eyes adjusted to the new environment.

The room was lit with expensive-looking candles and a small fireplace, keeping the room comfortably warm. Some lounge chairs and a small coffee table accompanied that cosy part of the room. There were multiple instruments lined up along the walls, including violins, cellos and flutes. But the instrument that stuck out the most was the jet-black grand piano in the corner of the room.

Erik hung his coat on the coat rack next to the door entrance and made his way to the grand piano, looking through some music sheets before sitting down on the piano stool.

Christine did the same as him and hung her coat next to his. She made her way to the piano and touched the jet-black texture slightly while Erik wasn't watching. She noticed the piano keys looked old and worn as if it's been used every day to play infuriated pieces of music.

"Let's start with some warm-up exercises," he turned to her and placed a hand on his own chest, "start with some breathing exercises. Just inhale for 4 counts, then exhale for 8. And repeat."

She did as she was told, relaxing with every breath she took. As she finished, he spoke again, "Feeling less nervous?"

"I'm not sure what you are talking about," she replied.

"Don't deny it. I saw the worry in your eyes when you entered the place," he got up and grabbed a can of water, pouring some of it into a small glass, "I understand, however. This is an... uhm... unconventional situation."

Erik placed the glass of water on top of the grand piano, in front of Christine. He continued, "But if you can trust me, I can make your voice soar like an angel's."

Christine noticed a slight blush emerging on her face at hearing the opportunity that lies ahead. She forced herself to settle even more, took a deep breath and replied, "I will try."

"Good," he sat back down on the piano stool, "now, how about some scales?"

The voice lesson was tough, the toughest one she ever experienced. Her voice felt sore but trained. She was exhausted. Her voice faltered in the middle of singing one of the songs Erik provided her. She put her hands to her mouth in embarrassment.

"I believe that's our cue to round it off for today," he got up and turned to Christine, motioning towards one of the seats near the fireplace, "please take a seat and unwind."

Christine was happy she could sit down for a while. Closing her eyes, she enjoyed the warmth emanating from the fireplace, relaxing at the sounds it made. She barely felt herself falling asleep when she heard a cup being placed down in front of her. A cup of tea.

"Tea?"

"Yes, Rooibos with some honey. It helps soothe the throat." Erik replied while sitting down on the other chair.

They sat in silence, unsure of what to say. Erik seemed to enjoy it, looking at the fireplace with interest.

Christine broke the silence, "So... how is work?"

He turned to look at her, raising the only exposed eyebrow with curiosity.

"You know, running the place and all..." she grabbed the teacup and held it close to her lips, about to take a sip.

Erik sighed at the attempt at small talk, not being amused at her efforts, "Yes, everything is magnificent."

Christine, disappointed with his short answer, tried to dive deeper, "So you think it's magnificent that your prima donna has left?"

He looked up in astonishment, then turned his head to also take a sip of his tea, "Let me guess. One of your 'sources' has told you this fact."

Christine shrugged, "Why did you do it?"

"Why did I do what?"

"Why were you so harsh on her? Hasn't she been prima donna here for the past few seasons?"

He hesitated and was silent, not wanting to answer her imposing questions. After a while, he spoke, "I have been exposed to true beauty in song. I cannot go back to accepting mediocrity after the experience that's been engraved in my mind," she felt him looking at her intensely, "not to mention, there was a general consensus of her being an obnoxious toad."

Christine was silent. Was he complimenting her? Remembering his last sentence, she forced out a quiet chuckle. She didn't know what to say or do after his reply, definitely not expecting that answer. Christine didn't notice that he had reached out to her and placed his gloved hand on her knee.

"I need you to sing for me."

She looked at him in shock. He felt her emotions clearly and placed his hand on the armrest instead, rejection crushing him. He clarified, "Sing for us. Be our prima donna for our next performance."

"M-Me? There's no way-"

His pleading, glowing eyes cut her off, sensing his desperation. She continued, "Believe me, I want to. B-But... I'm not ready-"

"You will be prepared enough when the day of the performance comes."

There was a short pause, at which Christine looked at Erik's gloved hand on the armrest. She wanted to reach out, feel the warmth of his hand against hers again, feel that sense of comfort. Yet, she hesitated. Conflicted with what he had shown her over the past few days and the attitude from before she sang on that stage. As if he had two completely opposite personalities.

"Do you promise?"

"You have my word." he stood up and grabbed her now empty cup of tea and brought it to another table, where the water jug also was placed, "and don't you worry about that cleaning job. We will replace those with voice lessons from now on."

"B-But what will the managers say if they find out that the place is not clean-"

"Don't worry about that part, my dear. Erik will take care of it."

The tone of his voice seemed odd. Talking in the third person? Condescending as it might have sounded, she wasn't going to refuse the offer - basically she was going to get paid to receive voice lessons.

"There is just one thing I must ask of you..." he told her before she could get up from her seat. She listened intensely, "don't mention these voice lessons to anyone, or the fact that you are taking over Carlotta's position. Small-minded people working at this opera won't understand."

Christine wasn't sure what he meant by that. She asked as she got up from the chair, "What do you mean they won't understand?"

He walked eagerly towards the door and grabbed Christine's jacket, "Let's just say that if the managers hear that I am recruiting the cleaning lady as our new prima donna for our next performance, they might just lose their foolish minds."

Christine laughed at the comment, thinking of how quickly she's come so far, just because of him. She walked towards him, about to take the coat from him. He, instead, offered to put it on for her. She accepted and hid her blush, feeling his hands grace over her arms as she put the coat on.

"How come you are now so much more of a gentleman?"

His face was stoic, not seeming to think much about their previous interaction, "I've always been like this, what are you on about?"

She opened the door as he was putting his own coat on, "Disagree. I clearly remember the cab incident."

He walked with her into the dark hallway and closed the door behind them. Instinctively, he grabbed her hand once again to lead her through the dark hallway, "Well, I don't."

She couldn't believe his words. A slight bit of frustration crept into her as she laughed in disbelief, "Do I really need to remind you of how you were so rude to just steal it in front of me, and then talk so condescendingly?"

He was silent, but she could sense him smirking. She was so sure of it!

"I'm sorry."

Huh?

She looked at him, only being able to see his golden eyes glowing in the dark.

"-but in my defence... I really did have an important meeting to attend." he continued.

She just laughed, happy to hear him apologizing, finally, "Apology accepted."

His tender touch on her hand made her weak. It made her forgive him so easily, even for what he has done to Meg. And Carlotta. She shouldn't be this easy on him... he's clearly a social wreck. No, she can't forgive him for what he did to Meg.

But she was looking into his eyes again, and he looked back.

They reached the back door and, as he opened it, the wind wooshed on both of their faces. It was extremely cold. It didn't help that he released her hand at the same time, intensifying the feeling of coldness.

"Goodnight, Christine."

He stood waiting at the door, waiting for her to walk away, "Goodnight, Erik. T-Thank you, again."

She turned and walked away to the nearest bus stop. As she arrived, she turned to look at him again, but he was long gone.