A/N: The prodigal author returns! I apologize SO much for the long hiatus of this story. I'm sure this excuse isn't new to many of you, but this is my final semester of college (I only have 4 days left!), and I had a huge design/show to put up in the Majestic, and had to write my 50 page thesis! With those things out of the way, it was time to write this again! I promised many of you that this story was not abandoned, and I would never lie!

Also, as a note, I have gone through the previous chapters and have done some edits. Nothing major, just fixed a few typos here and there, and changed a few of the sentences so things made more sense, and to fix some plot consistency issues. Nothing major at all...but of course, feel free to go back and reread! You may have to anyway to remember what has been going on since I last updated!

I appreciate everyone's continued support of my story, and hope this chapter doesn't disappoint. Working up the plot, and a small cliffhanger at the end. This chapter takes place on the same day as the previous 'Erik' chapter. We're back to Christine's POV.

Chapter 12: Dramatic Awakening

I knew something was wrong the minute I saw Mr. Reyer walk towards me as I was getting ready to leave rehearsal.

It was Saturday, and the company had just finished an intensive ten hour practice. I was tired, but pleased. In just four days, we had learned all the major dances for the first two acts of Hannibal. It had been so much work, but it had paid off. James was pleased, and everyone was working well together. James even took some of my advice on different parts of the choreography. I felt like I was doing some of the best dancing of my life. I put all my passion and heart into it, as well as all my new found, diva-induced anger.

Carlotta's comments from the days before still stung in my mind, and she kept adding fresh insults daily. I could barely stand to be anywhere near her. Luckily, we hadn't done many full company rehearsals, but I knew it was only a matter of time before I would be forced to share the stage with her. Unfortunately, she had taken to sitting in on all of our vocal rehearsals. Her presence made me feel awkward and nervous. I didn't want to meet her scrutinizing gaze, but every time I forced myself to be the bigger person, and look up to sing my best, there she was, always smirking at me with a little knowing expression on her face.

A few times my singing was okay, others it was downright awful. After dancing all day, and with having La Carlotta there, I had no energy or drive to sing properly. And after four days of this, on Saturday, I gave up entirely. I didn't even bother trying. I knew I would probably get some sort of talk from Mr. Charmin, but I never expected Mr. Reyer to personally come to speak with me.

The dancers had just finished their final run-thru of the dances in Act I. To my credit, as poorly as I had done at singing that afternoon, I danced amazingly. Carlotta had left by that point, so I almost started to feel happy and proud of myself. It was a nice change.

It was while I was on the edge of the stage packing up my stuff when I again noticed some movement out of the corner of my eye, up in one of the boxes. I felt like I was going crazy, seeing things. I thought maybe I was just dehydrated and was hallucinating. Either way, I didn't have time to think about it, as another movement grabbed my attention. Mr. Reyer was coming towards me to the lip of the stage.

"Might I have a word with you Miss DuBois? It will only take a moment," he asked very officially. My face fell, but I still tried to respond as cheerfully and politely as possible.

"Of course, Mr. Reyer. Let me just finish throwing my stuff into my bag, if that's alright?"

"Absolutely. Just come back to my office when you are finished. You know where it is, correct?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'll be there in just a minute," I replied with a more depressed voice. I was hoping to avoid this type of conversation, but it looked like I was about to get my first lecture. I looked back up to the box again, but didn't see anything, not even a breeze. I finished packing up, and headed back to Reyer's office which was in a dimly lit hallway behind the stage.

His door was open when I got there, so I knocked slightly on the frame to announce my arrival. He looked up at me from the paperwork he was reviewing and waved me in.

"Ah, Miss DuBois. Yes, come in, come in."

"Christine, sir. If you don't mind," I told him politely.

"Of course, Christine." He looked at me with an appraising eye. I wasn't sure what he was thinking, or what was going through his mind, and it made me all the more nervous.

"I wanted to speak to you, Christine, about your performance so far with the company. Especially where singing is concerned. Now, I know you are primarily a dancer, and quite a fine dancer, if I do say so!" I gave a small smile as he continued.

"But, some of us on the production staff are a bit concerned about your vocals, nonetheless. So far in rehearsals you're singing has been somewhat lacking. La Carlotta is convinced you possess no talent at all."

Carlotta? I wondered when she got such a weighted voice in the production team. She was only a performer, just like anyone else!

"I on the other hand can see that you do have talent, just perhaps not entirely in your vocals. It is evident you have some skill in singing, you aren't the worst person I have ever heard, by far. However, I must admit, had your dancing skills not been so precise and keen, and without Cecile's recommendation, I probably would not have cast you in the first place."

His revelation hit me like a huge slap across the face. Not cast me at all? I couldn't believe it. I knew they had been looking for triple threats, and I knew I wasn't strong in all areas. But had I really been that terrible? He continued.

"Now, before you get too upset or worked up, I am sure there is a way around all this. Have you ever considered taking voice lessons?" he inquired.

"Well, yes. When I was younger. My mom was a singer, and I guess I always meant for her to teach me. But I was always so involved with dance," I answered honestly.

"And now? Can't your mother help you out?" he prodded me further.

"My mother. . .well, both of my parents are dead." Now was not the time I wanted him to bring up those particular wounds on top of everything else that was going on. But I continued on anyway before he could ask me anything else about my parents.

"I mean, I know I need help, but I thought that if I made the production, I would be given help. . ." I mumbled lamely.

"Well, I understand that assumption. And I am very sorry to hear about your parents. Truly I am." To his credit, he really did seem sorry. Yet that moment was quickly gone as he went on.

"But to be perfectly frank, we do not have the time or the resources to give our cast members lessons. Of course we can help you here and there, but I feel you would benefit greatly from private lessons. We don't want to lose one of our star dancers, Miss DuBois-- er, excuse me, Christine. But we do want this show to be the best Opera Boston has seen, the best we have ever put on. You can understand that, yes?"

"Of course, sir. I have been working very hard. I just get really nervous singing. With all the. . .extra people in the room," I tried hinting to the presence of Carlotta, "it just gets frustrating."

"Well, that I can understand. But a few extra people in a rehearsal hall is nothing compared to the crowds that will appear on opening night and future performances. We cannot deal with stage fright either," he said sternly.

"Oh, no! It's nothing like that. I don't have stage fright. I just feel as if, well, certain people, like Carlotta, are out of place there in the room while we are rehearsing." I didn't want to sound mean or insulting, but I also didn't want him to think I was nervous around a crowd.

"I know it might be nerve racking to have such a star as La Carlotta in the room. But she does not mean to criticize. She is strictly there for support and to make the show the best it can be. Just between you and me, I know she can be a bit eccentric, but there have to be some allowances. After all, she is quite a big name, and it is an honor to have her with this company!"

"Yes, I understand," I choked out. A bit eccentric? I was thinking a bit arrogant was a more appropriately description.

"Well, then excellent. So, the crowded room should be no big deal, and Carlotta shouldn't be a problem any longer. We are not asking you to be a prima donna. But we are asking you to be better. I have a list of instructors who give private voice lessons, many I have worked with before, and they are wonderful! If you call them, they will give you their rates and times of availability." He handed me the printed out list with almost a dozen names listed.

Private voice lessons from opera professionals were going to be expensive, and I knew it. Although I hadn't been hurting for money, I certainly did not have that type of cash to waste! Their rates could be anywhere from a hundred dollars an hour! I remembered some of my friends from the Conservatory and what they had to pay daily and weekly for outside help. There was no way I could afford this now. A week's worth of lessons would be my entire paycheck from the opera. I wasn't sure if it was worth it.

Mr. Reyer looked at me thoughtfully. I could tell he was being sincere, and was truly trying to help me. But he also did have a major, large budget production to worry about. He didn't have time to baby me either. That was the tough world of show business.

"Alright, Mr. Reyer. I will see what I can find out and try to make arrangements for lessons. And I'll also try not to be as distracted in the vocal rehearsals. I guess just being James' assistant and all. . . I just have a lot on my mind. I just want it to be a great show, too."

"It will be! Don't worry. I am sure this meeting has been rather unpleasant, but as I said, we don't want to have to lose you as a company member. Just put as much effort into practicing singing as you do for dancing, and I have no doubt you will shine," he concluded with a smile.

"Thank you, sir. I will. Have a good evening."

"You, too! We'll see you bright and early Monday morning for a fresh start!"

As I walked out of the theatre, I thought about all that had just transpired. I thought things had been going fairly well. I never expected that sort of ultimatum. Mr. Reyer hadn't come right out to say it, but I got the feeling that if I didn't shape up my singing, I would be kicked out of the show, dancing or no dancing. That was just the way it was going to be, and the way it was in this business.

I couldn't really afford the lessons, but what else could I do? I had to have them if I wanted to keep this job, and get future jobs. Theatre is such a small community, I knew that if I got kicked out, my chances of landing another role would be slim. Word would travel fast about me, and I couldn't let that happen.

I thought about trying to enlist the help of Tatum again, to give me some more pointers. But I knew I needed more than pointers. And I was sure she had enough on her plate already with learning the music and rehearsing. She wouldn't have time to help me. I could have called some old friends from the Conservatory, but knew many of them were probably struggling to find jobs and wouldn't be able to take me on for free. Some of my parents' old acquaintances might have been able to help out, but most of them lived in Connecticut or elsewhere. And it would have been weird and too painful asking one of them for help.

I was running out of options, and was almost on the verge of tears by the time I got back to my apartment. I wasn't sure what I was going to do. I knew I could sing better if I just tried harder. But I didn't think trying harder would be enough. I blamed a lot of my failure on Carlotta. But mostly I blamed myself. I had let her get under my skin so much, I really had just given up that day. I couldn't even deny that. But there was something so terrible about her. She wasn't even that good herself! And the way Mr. Reyer just seemed to allow her to be such a diva-- it seemed as if her star power had made him wrapped around her little finger. It wasn't fair.

I let myself in the front door, and knew right away I was going to be alone for the night. It was Saturday night, and of course Meg would be out. The way I was feeling though, that was fine with me. I didn't feel like dealing with her. She would have been able to tell right away something was wrong, and would want me to tell her all about it. I couldn't relive all that had just happened or explain my new worries and insecurities. She would probably just trivialize it anyway, say I was great, and move on. I loved Meg, but I was definitely the more serious and rational of the two of us.

I decided the best thing to do was soak in a warm bubble bath to relieve the tension of my aching body and my pounding head. I had a lot to deal with in the next few days of trying to decide what to do about voice lessons and singing. I figured the best course of action would be to try and relax my muscles and mind and go to bed early.

As I got ready for bed, I noticed the book of opera arias laying on my dresser. I thought about Erik, as I had found myself doing often since our last meeting a week ago when I told him about getting cast. So much had happened since then. I hadn't worked at the library since, so I hadn't seen him. That too had been bothering me all week. Speaking to him, however briefly, in the past weeks had always made me feel better. I smiled when I remembered I was going to work tomorrow, since we had a company day off for Sunday. Erik had said to me that I would have a lot to learn. He was definitely turning out to be right about that. And yet even though he knew I was rough, he still saw the potential. Very raw potential.

Suddenly my first positive thought of the night came to my head. Erik had said he knew about music and singing-- maybe he could recommend someone to tutor me who wouldn't charge me a lot. Or maybe he had some friends who would do it as a personal favor, although I couldn't picture Erik having that many friends. I couldn't picture him doing a lot of things. He still remained such a mystery.

Those thoughts helped me to drift off to sleep. Maybe things would start to look up after tomorrow. There was no guarantee that I would see Erik again at the library. But I sort of just came to accept now that I would. He always just appeared. There was something very comforting about that thought. . . .

I was woken up some time later by the ringing of my cell phone. A glance at my clock told me it was a little past 1 o'clock in the morning. I had been half asleep, half awake when I heard Meg come in a few hours earlier, so I knew it couldn't be her calling.

I rubbed my eyes as the phone kept ringing. I checked the caller ID, but it said it was a blocked number. Curious, I opened the phone to see who could possibly be calling me at this hour.

"Hello," I grumbled into the phone, still groggy with sleep. There was no response.

Again, I said with more force, "Hello? Is someone there?"

I listened, but there was silence.

A/N: You know the drill! Come on, Review! ;-)