I soon lost the company of my best friend and suffered the moods of my maestro. Genny became occupied with rehearsals as Carlotta's understudy and spent the majority of her afternoons in private practice, per instructions from the Opera Ghost. Nothing had been done to secure any advancement for me. Instead, Madame Emeraude's promotion to Susanna's understudy put Erik in a foul mood that seemed to grow darker every day.

Genny also began acting strangely. Her bubbly conversations and chipper behavior were replaced by moodiness and irritation. At first I thought it to be related to being tired from rehearsals and singing every evening at the opera, but there was something else.

Her offence when I denied I was in love with her brother made me want to explain myself better, but she remained aloof when I brought the subject up again, refusing to talk about it. With rehearsals in the afternoons and my evenings taken by Erik I found myself with little time to continue to try to speak to Genny. So, I begged Erik to allow me my evenings off to perhaps go to supper and visit with my friends, but he, of course, refused.

So I defied him. Twice, in a daring move, I hurried out of my dressing room, following Genny outside the opera where her carriage was waiting However, while my presence was greeted with surprise and excitement by Raoul, who seemed very eager to enjoy a night on the town, Genny only moaned that she wanted to go home. So we parted ways and I returned to Erik, defeated.

My worry for my friend increased. I recalled her gossip about Carlotta and her previous comments, wondering how much of them were made in jest. I feared Erik as the Angel of Music had more power over her than I had suspected. I was certainly not in a position to protest that I had more power against Erik's manipulations. Indeed, I had yielded to him and dared not leave for fear he would harm himself or others. However Genny always seemed more gullible than me and had fervently placed her trust in the Angel of Music without a second thought.

I had to get her away from here. There was something else going on that I could not put my finger one. Something that had changed my friend's behavior in the past week. I had spoken to Raoul about my concern before, but I'm sure he did not take me seriously. I had to convince him to get Genny away from the opera and out of Paris.

November was coming to a close. The opera planned a harvest ball at the end of the month, where they intended to announce the next two operas for the season. For a change of pace, I decided to visit Genny right after she finished with rehearsals. If I was in ever in need of a costume to wear out, this ball would be the perfect place. I wasn't completely sure if Erik would permit me to attend, but I hoped just the same.

I reached the stage just as the singers finished. Genny and Madame Emeraude were going through the complicated blocking in the third act, in which the Countess and Susanna switch places in order to fool the Count. I tried not to pry but I could partly overhear M. Gabriel giving them both strenuous notes on their performance. For once I was glad that I had not been promoted so I could be spared the chorus master's often sharp criticism.

Genny almost didn't notice my presence as she started to pass me in the wings. I reached out my hand and touched her forearm lightly, but it was enough to make her jump and turn on me.

"Oh Christine!" she gasped.

She looked terrible. I knew my friend well. She always made an extra effort to make sure her face was presentable and there was not a hair out of place. Her eyes were red rimmed from fatigue and her lips were pale.

"I thought you might like some company." I offered. I almost asked the reason for her current state, but decided against it. I was able to link my arm around hers and walk through the wings. She followed my lead as if she had no will of her own. We headed down the corridors away from the hustle and bustle of the stage at this time of day when the stage hands and craftsmen fixed chipped paint and broken canvas from the previous night's performance.

"Are your rehearsals going well?" I asked to counter the dreary silence as we walked.

Genny made a small sound that I took for a sigh. "Well enough I suppose. Though I feel like every night I have to unlearn everything from that day, only just to relearn it the next day." she admitted.

"You did tell me that singing was exhausting work." I pointed out. I tried to make my tone sound as cheerful as possible. "But it would be foolish of us to think that success did not come with a price."

My words had set her off. I heard a quick, sharp breath before she shattered the quiet still in the corridor. "I wish Carlotta would just croak like the horrible toad she is! Then all this work wouldn't have been for nothing." She bellowed and broke away from my arm. I nearly jumped out of my skin and swiftly turned to face her. Her shoulders were shaking with rage.

"Genny, I have to ask you." I stopped walking. "Are you serious when you say that? Or are you only joking." She looked at me but did not say anything. "It's just...not like you to say such things...all the time."

Genny blinked. "What does it matter? Do you think I'm horrible for thinking such things, Christine?" I opened my mouth to console her, but was cut off. "No I don't care if you think I'm horrible. And I'm not sorry for saying what I think. Carlotta has done so much worse. Do you know the terrible things she said about me before you came here? She said the only reason I was even allowed in the chorus was because my brother, Phillipe, is a patron." She turned her head away and I could see a tear at the corner of her eyes. I took her hand and held it tight and she looked at me gratefully. "You know how well I like being around people, making new friends. I found it so hard when I first started singing. No one seemed to want to be bothered with me. And then I found out why..." Her voice was starting to crack. We were only a few steps away from the wardrobe department. Pulling her by the hand I increased our pace, for I feared Genny would break into sobbing hysterics at any moment. I pulled her inside and shut the door.

"She spread horrible rumors about me, but worse than that, she said such mean-spirited things about my brothers." Her fists waved in front of her face and she did her best to stop crying. "She said if it was easy enough for my brothers to buy my way into the chorus then before long they would be buying spots for their mistresses as well." She bit her lips. "That may be true about other patrons, but not my brothers. It was bad enough that she spread lies about me, but slandering my family's good name is another matter."

She spoke with a passion that I had never heard from her before. I had no idea that my flippant friend cared so highly about such things. I remembered what Carlotta said to me before and how much delight she took from my reaction. I knew that pain. She had wanted to hurt me.

"I had to work so hard to be recognized. I didn't buy my way into anything! I trained so hard and it was still months before I got a chance to sing a leading role. I felt like a failure...to my brothers."

I put a hand under her chin. "But you are not a failure. Genny, you are the farthest thing from a failure I know." She sniffed. "Please don't cry about such silly things like that. And promise me that you won't get worked up about Carlotta's...stupid lies. You're stronger than this."

"Yes, but you know how it hurts. I still hear some of it every day. What she lacks in talent she makes up for spite. And she's doing the same thing to you now Christine...it's not fair." A sob distorted her last words and she wrapped her arms around my waist in a tight embrace.

The scent of fine perfume filled the air around us. The luxuries that Genny had lived with all her life still had the strange feel of the exotic to me when I found myself surrounded by them. The expensive perfume, the fashionable dresses and the jewelry that was not paste. To have so much and remain unfulfilled seemed a terrible feeling. I let her cry on my shoulder and lifted a hand to smooth down the white blond curls against her neck.

"All this work... and it could all be for nothing. I might never have the starring role as long as Carlotta sings here." she sighed.

"I believe that you will." I said to cheer her up. "One day soon." She pulled away and had a slight smile on her face. "Now let's do something to make you really smile. We need to find something to wear for the masque ball."

Genny's smile grew broader and she squinted in delight, even though her eyes were still red rimmed from her tears. "Yes and what a boutique we have!" she exclaimed. I laughed, for the wardrobe room was actually very dimly lit and a bit dreary. Her smile turned mischievous, "and a friend with the keys."

"Madame LeRoy never did ask me for the keys back." I explained while walking down the long room to fling open many of the large storage closets. "So pick your century!"

Genny surveyed the costumes in the closet I had opened. "Byzantine! No, too gaudy. It has to be from this century." She placed a slender finger to her month in thoughtfulness. "I have just the idea. Do you know where the regency dresses are? The ones we used in La Trivata last year."

I had to think for a long moment, remembering the order in which the costumes were stored. It had only been two months since I left the costume department for the chorus and my recollection of the intricate storage of the thousands of costumes had already begun to fade. Also, I had no idea what anyone wore in an opera from last season

"I think they are in another room." I lead her out of the closet and down a level to another storage area. It was the one we went through when choosing a dress for my first dinner out. It was also my refuge after Freiderich attacked me...and from where Erik first abducted me. Genny made her way to the racks and shuffled about a bit before finally finding what she wanted.

"Voila!" she withdrew a golden highwaisted dress, with cream sleeves and trim. It looked stunning and Genny pressed it against her frame, stroking it lovingly. I saw the smile on her face and I in turn smiled, glad to see my friend back in high spirits.

"It looks lovely on you." I pointed out.

Genny looked up at me, doe-eyed. "Actually I've already worn this. Last year in the chorus. I was actually thinking you would like to wear this dress."

I shook my head. "I don't think so. I don't even think I'll even go to the party."

"Why not?"

I hadn't thought of any real reason I couldn't go. I was just certain if I asked Erik he would completely refuse. The last place he wanted me a rowdy room of intoxicated singers and patrons.

"I already have a dress." Genny admitted. "I had a new dress I was just dying to wear. But I had hoped you would be there..." she hesitated, "Sorry. I guessed I tricked you, Christine, but I wanted you to agree to come back here to look for a dress. Are you afraid to come alone?"

I was more than willing to attend by myself, despite the break with tradition, but I just knew Erik wouldn't allow it. I shook my head in genuine sadness. "I suppose so."

"I'm coming with Philippe as my escort. You could attend with Raoul." she suggested.

"I don't think that would be possible."

Genny let the dress start to slip in her hands, the long golden train spilling on the floor. "Oh...I forgot...that."

I knew what she was referring to. Without thinking about approaching the subject with any tact, I pushed ahead. "Again, it's not what you are thinking and you need to give me a moment to explain. When I said I didn't love Raoul, I was not implying that I have any negative feelings towards your brother. I do care about him very deeply, but I'm not sure if it is love. Not the kind of love you have in mind." Her eyes glazed over and her lips formed a pout, a sign she didn't like what she was hearing. "And I'm still embarrassed that everyone thought that we were lovers and gossiped about it. Please, I'm only thinking about Raoul. Think about his reputation if..."

"What about the other?" Genny cut me off.

"The other?"

"The other man. The one that you love." she stated coldly.

I didn't have an answer, not one that wasn't an overly complicated lie or, worse, the shocking truth. I was in love with an older man, driven by his obsession with me and yet scared to touch me. I felt I was destined only to be admired; adored like a pretty doll in a case.

"It's complicated..." I whispered.

Genny shoved the dress in my hand. "Then come to the masque and explain that to Raoul. Don't bother trying to explain it to me." She started to walk off, but then turned on her heels. A coy smile spread over her face. "Besides, I have a surprise to show you then. A surprise you won't want to miss."

The masque was the following evening and I had yet to gather the courage to ask Erik if I could attend. I was also taking Genny's suggestion to heart. I needed to talk to Raoul in private and perhaps the worst and yet best place would be whispering to him in a crowded ball room. I could tell him how important it was to get Genny away. Perhaps if I knew that Raoul and Genny were safety out of Paris, I could make another escape attempt.

I came back to the house on the lake using the entrance from the Rue Scribe. I called out for Erik, but got no answer. The door to his room was wide open and no one was inside. I found it strange that he wasn't home. I tried to think about where he could be then dismissed my curiosity. Perhaps I was better off not knowing. For lack of anything else to do, I retired to my room.

Upon entering I saw a dress laid out on my bed. I came closer and saw it was the same dress Genny and I admired with a few alterations. The bodice was trimmed with, what looked to my inexperienced eye, real pearls and the hem with a delicate ribbon of red velvet. Beside the dress, sat a wide wooden chest which opened to reveal matching red ribbons and a mask of red velvet embedded with flakes of gold. Beneath the mask lay another small box containing a gorgeous necklace of intricate gold filigree with several large red stones hanging from the ends and a pair of matching earrings. The golden bracelet Genny wore for Orpheus and that Erik stole for me completed the set. The last item was a plain card with a brief message.

Your friend has good taste. Please do me the honor of attending the masque with me.

Erik

After the show I dressed as quickly as possible and, despite my usual disinterest in appearances, the gown was no different than any of the other new dresses and baubles Erik had secured for me I was determined it would be returned to its proper place after tonight. I did my best to put my hair up in a passable imitation of the style popular in decades past with the red velvet ribbon threaded through my curls. I secured the necklace; which felt heavy against my throat. I did not wear the golden stag bracelet.

There was a knock at my door and I heard Erik's soft voice from the other side.

"Are you ready, Christine?" he asked.

"Just a moment," I called

After Erik invited me to the masque, I felt like a half wit for assuming he wouldn't want to attend. A room full of masked people was the ideal setting for him to move about freely. However, I had soon my own ideas. Within the crowd, I could find Raoul and talk to him. Perhaps that I could motivate him to take Genny away from here with a tale that I discovered the identity of the Angel of Music, a jealous person only interested in Genny for unsavory reasons. Not too far from reality, but without revealing the entire truth. Perhaps when they were away, and if I ever got the chance to join them, I could reveal everything.

After one last desperate twist to a strand of hair in front of my face, trying to make limp hair look like a pleasing tendril, I slipped on my gloves and left my room.

If I was impressed by my costume, the effect of Erik's attire nearly knocked me over. I opened the door to a mass of red. He wore a red military inspired jacket with enlarged pockets and cuffs that glittered with golden buttons and red trousers with black trim that led to knee high black leather boots shinned to perfection. The ensemble was completed with a large scarlet cape that pooled at his feet and a black tricorn hat trimmed in red and sporting several large plumes in various shades of the predominant color.

In contrast to the red, Erik wore an ivory mask carved to give the appearance of a human skull. His neck was concealed under an elaborate neck stock of pure white. The effect was chilling as I stared at the mask and remembered what lay beneath it; that his natural face already bore a striking resemblance to a death's head.

"My goodness..." I whispered before opening my mouth to ask a question. Before I could make a sound Erik answered.

"And darkness and decay and the Red Death held illimitable dominion over all." * Erik recited in a deep and slow voice. Then beneath the skull's mask I detected the faint shadow of a smile. "It's from Poe. Do you read much Poe, Christine?"

I shook my head.

"You should. I myself find his works a source of great…inspiration."

Within moments my hand was in the crook of Erik's arm as he led me out of his home, up through the cellars and twisting corridors of the opera to the foyer. The room was packed with party goers. Amidst the golden architecture and the soft gleam from the gas lamps the stairs were teaming with bodies; a sea of colors. However in this sea, Erik managed to part the waves as he made his entrance.

He clutched my hand tightly as we made our way down the stairs. Gasps and whispers greeted us along our descent. I touched my mask for assurance, grateful that the one Erik provided me covered most of my face. I didn't want anyone to recognize me. I discovered quickly that looking at the shocked eyes and faces made me uneasy so I turned my gaze downward. On the long cape Erik wore, I noticed that the golden embroidery on its hem was actually a series of words

Do not touch me. I am the Red Death stalking abroad.

We made our way to the main floor. I scanned out among the crowd but it was hopeless to try and identify anyone in this chaos. I looked for Genny's familiar blond white curls and after a few moments of inspecting the throng gave up on my search. There were at least a dozen women with the same shade of hair in elaborate up-dos. She could be the angel, the peacock, the fairy, the china doll or the geisha cloaked in a robe of magenta.

Erik pulled us along to the table with refreshments. I didn't realize how flushed my face had become under my mask and from my nerves. All around us there was chatter, laughter and still there were whispers. So I was grateful when Erik turned away for a moment and returned with two glasses of wine for us. I took a small sip and was stunned.

I had tasted that sweet wine before. It had been on Erik's lips.

I was now certain my cheeks were as red as my mask. In my anxiousness, I took another long drink that almost caused me to choke on my wine. Erik noticed and I turned away in embarrassment.

"Are you enjoying yourself, Christine." he asked softly

I nodded quickly. "I suppose so. There certainly are a great number of people here."

He nodded slightly and the feathers on top of his feathers bobbed in unison. "Yes. These events do have a reputation of attracting the vain and unsavory mob." He did not make any effort to lower his voice, wanting to be heard. "But still, I want you to have a pleasant evening, my dear. I gathered that you did not think you would be allowed to attend."

I blinked up at him in surprise. Erik did know me well. "I was afraid to ask. I was certain you would say no."

A dry chuckle escaped his throat. "Christine, I wouldn't deny you life's little pleasures. Especially not the thrill of attending your first party at the opera."

The chords of a waltz sounded. I felt others pass by us as they moved out towards the dance floor. I scanned over the crowd again. The group of people on the stairs seemed to be well into their drinks as mouths behind many masks were open in animated conversation and laughter. There was a group of young girls waiting eagerly around the perimeter of the couples dancing on the floor. I noticed the bounce in their steps and they rocked back and forth on their toes. No doubt these were the young girls of the corps de ballet just waiting for someone to ask them to dance.

"Would you care to dance?"

I was so taken aback that I had to turn to see who asked me. Of course it was Erik. He already had his hand lingering over mine.

"You dance?" I asked.

The move of his head almost seemed out of annoyance, but his voice was calm and smooth. "When it suits me. Do you dance, Christine?"

I bit my lip and he noticed. I should know how to dance. Most girls my age had been invited to balls or at least casual dances by now, but I had missed the opportunity with my father's illness and passing. My only experience in formal dance was from watching others.

"I shall show you." He plucked my wine glass away as easy as flicking a fly from my wrist. He led me out towards the floor and, again, I heard whispers. With each step, my legs felt heavier and I found myself facing Erik sooner than expected. He took my right hand and held it up and out, but not too high. His other arm stopped a few inches from my hip.

"If you'd permit me." With my quick nod, he pressed his other hand against my waist and pulled me closer to him. "Concentrate on the music. Every beat is a step instead of a note. You'll find the rhythm soon enough." His instructions were encouraging. I smiled and as I did he leaned over and whispered in my ear. "But for now, follow my lead."

I felt my arm move out to the side and the hand and my waist pushed me in the same direction. My feet moved and to my relief I was not as clumsy as I thought I would be. We moved in a small circle. The other dancers kept their distance; either out of respect or intimidation.

Soon I felt my feet pick up the rhythm that Erik had carried me in and they moved effortlessly. With my focus no longer on my feet, I noticed that my left hand still hung free. I glanced over at the other dancers and saw the ladies with their hands on their partner's shoulders. I timidly reached out and grabbed the folds of Erik's cape, looking at it for a long moment before glancing up at Erik. His eyes were focused on my newly placed hand as well.

I heard the music reach a crescendo and felt a moment of panic. It was over too soon. This was my first dance and it seemed like only a moment had passed. I wanted it to last longer, but it was foolish of me to think so since I had the entire evening for more dancing. Erik's steps slowed and I echoed them. Boldly, my hand left the cape and reached inside the fold of scarlet fabric. I made contact with cold metal buttons and rough braid of his jacket and felt him shudder beneath my touch.

The song ended with a round of polite applause for the players, but it didn't seem to reach my ears. Instead, I heard only Erik's voice as he leaned over to speak in my ear.

"Anything you desire Christine, I will give to you. Anything."

It was my turn to shudder.

I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned to see a masked figure in a black cloak with a hint of emerald green peeking out from among the folds of cloak and formal wear. The mask was plain and black; it reminded me of Erik's mask.

"Will you do me the honor of this next dance, mademoiselle?" he asked. His voice was unfamiliar to me and with a strange accent I could not place. He offered his hand in a gracious manner and I went to accept it. It would have been rude not to.

Erik kept my other hand and squeezed it tightly. We were close enough that I could lean over and whisper in his ear. "Please…don't make a scene." I tried to reason with him. His response was just to squeeze tighter. I winced. "You're hurting me."

He let go. I took my new partner's hand as he led me further into the dance floor for the next waltz. I hadn't figured I would be doing much dancing at all, but if I spent every dance with Erik, even in the crowd we would draw attention. Erik's presence was hard to ignore. While I could hide my face, I could not hide my voice. Someone could recognize me.

The strings started to play as the man gently placed his arms in the proper position. The beat was lively as we swayed to the music. I was relieved to find my new partner was an adept dancer.

"Your suitor was unwise to let you go, Mlle Daae." He remarked in that strange voice.

I blushed. "Oh, he's not my suitor…" I started to protest. Then I realized what else he had said. "How do you know my name?" I studied him further. Beneath the plain mask, I could tell that the color of his skin was dark. I glanced at his wrists and the gap between his gloves and sleeve also reveal a patch of dark skin.

"I know a great deal about you Christine Daae." He replied.

Now I was afraid. I tugged away from him but only met with his other hand at my back. He pulled me closer to him. His black cape almost enveloped us both. "Do I know you sir?" I asked and hear the panic rise in my voice. I wanted to run back to Erik, but we were soon both crushed by the swell of bodies around us.

"No you do not. But I know about you and you must trust me, mademoiselle. I know what has been happening between you and Erik."

I gasped loudly and the eyes behind my partner's masked narrowed disapprovingly, indicating that I should be quiet. "You know about Erik…" I murmured.

"Yes and I know that you are in a dangerous situation. That is why I arranged this ruse to get you away from him. I have a friend of yours here. You must speak with him. You must tell him everything." His voice was serious and insistent.

"A friend?" I shook my head in distrust, "What friend? Who is he? Who are you?"

He smiled and looked over my shoulder. I followed his gaze hoping I could make out a tall red form. But my eyes were only greeted by a black shadow and then my body made contact with it.

"And here he is." My strange partner released his grip. "Good luck Mademoiselle Daae," he whispered.

Before I could move anywhere, I was swept up into the arms of another dance partner; the black shadow that had bumped into us. He whirled me around as the music swelled and then brought me in to meet him face to face. He wore the same style of black cape the other strange man had worn. In fact they were almost identical as was the black mask over his face. My fingers trembled within his hands until I noticed a streak of blond hair at the top of the mask.

"Christine…"

"Raoul!" My heart leaped in excitement, thankful not to be in the arms of a stranger any longer. Then my fear overcame me. "Who was that man? What are you two doing?"

"Christine." He cut me off and I had never heard his voice sound so severe. "Follow me. I'm going to dance with you but we are slowly going to move to the outer edge of the dance floor. Then we need to leave this room and get away. Do you understand?"

I nodded and followed him as he led me gracefully through the waltz. With each step we moved further and further away from the main crowd and away from the crushing mass of bodies. I looked at Raoul nervously. I also used every turn we made as an excuse to glance back and see if I could find Erik, but he seemed to have disappeared. Once we left the dance floor, Raoul pulled me by the hand and quickened his pace.

"Where are we going?" I asked breathlessly.

"Away from here. Out of this accursed building," he growled.

I panicked and dug my feet into the floor. That seemed to stop my forward motion for a moment. Raoul turned to face me. His eyes under the mask were wide with surprise.

"Why are you stopping?"

"You cannot! You cannot take me out of this building. I won't leave with you and you can't force me." I spoke rapidly. "You can't! You can't!" Now the fear rang clear in my voice. He stopped and pulled me closer, shocked by my pleas.

"Christine. I have to get you away from here. I'm doing this for your safety." He protested.

Despite my panic of what would happen to me if Erik found out about me leaving the opera, I relaxed in Raoul's embrace. I rested my cheek against his chest and felt the steady drum of his heart. This was someone I didn't have to love and at the same time be afraid of; someone who wouldn't fly into a rage if I left his side.

At least, I hoped my assumptions about Raoul were correct. I felt the slightest pressure as his hand touched the back of my piled hair. "Don't be afraid, Christine. I didn't mean to upset you, but I must speak with you. Is there any place we can go where we can talk in private? Where your friend won't hear us?"

I did not need to look at Raoul to tell what he meant by "friend" We stood off in a corridor which was relatively empty. The golden lights and mirage of colors from the foyer beckoned to us both like a strange wonderland. I feared Erik was already in the shadows. He could be right behind me for all I knew. I took a deep breath and thought. Not in my dressing room, or on the stage. Not in the wardrobe department or for that matter any other work room of the opera. Not in the stalls or any of the boxes.

I glanced upwards.

"The roof."

Learned something new. The quote "Beneath your feet lies the tomb of tortured men. Thus does the Red Death rebuke your merriment!" is not from the poem "The Masque of the Red Death" by Poe. It is an original quote from the 1925 Phantom film with Lon Chaney. I thought it was the poem but after some double checking I discovered I was mistaken. Either quote is still very chilling.

Also I'm happy to have on board a beta reader! So many thanks to avidreadercina for correcting all my annoying spelling mistakes and helping me out.