AN: I just wanted to say "Thanks!" to those who reviewed! It means a lot! I'll try to update the next chapter a little bit sooner than I did this one!

Christine

The next night she was there again, and so was he. She was there the night after that, and so was he. And the night after that. And again, the night after that. Nadir had politely informed him that he had a personality that needed routines, in truth; Erik knew he was habit-forming, and already she was one. He was even changing his schedule for her. Typically he would not arrive at the music building until well after dark, once everyone was gone. But now he would leave his apartment just after dusk, and when he arrived, there were still people practicing. He stayed in shadows and wore a black fedora that cast a shadow across the mask. He placed a sheet of paper over the window of the practice room to block prying eyes. He thought that having others practice around him would be a cacophony; but in reality it was a symphony. Classical, baroque, romantic, impressionistic, contemporary, serial and jazz all created a riot of sound in his head, and he became inspired to compose like never before. He had pieces forming, all of a similar vein, and he wasn't sure if it was a symphony or an opera or a ballet, but it was something, and it was good. Each evening he added more notes to his work, and each night he added more information about the girl in the band library.

He discovered that she listened to and enjoyed all kinds of music from pop-rock to show tunes to classical to opera. He assumed she was a runner; one night she came in wearing gym shorts and an oversized t-shirt. Her hair was plastered to her forehead and neck with sweat. That night she listened to hits from the 70's and 80's. He actually laughed out loud at how much she was enjoying "Play that Funky Music." The laugh was loud enough that it would have been heard by her if she had been listening to her music more softly. Each night she sang, and each night he grew to understand her voice more. She sang because she loved singing and she loved music. There was no pretension about her voice. She just truly loved to sing. He had watched her for a week, and was completely fascinated by her. He found he wanted to know more.

It was this and the fact that he had not talked to the woman in a week, that prompted him to return to Madame Giry. She was the mother of the music building. She knew what was going on in many students' lives, and she would be able to answer his questions. He had to find a subtle way to ask her, it would be hard; Madame was very clever, and very aware of his habits. He couldn't ask about the girl out right, he didn't want Madame to know that he was curious. The only idea that came to his head was that he needed a score and who should he talk to in the band department about getting one. It wasn't fool proof, but it would do. His desire to know more outweighed his desire to keep his curiosity hidden. This should have been a sign.

That night he went to Madame Giry's office and knocked on the door. After flinging the door open, she began to reprimand him for leaving her no word for so long. Then she attempted to give him a hug, for coming back so soon. This was a routine they had. She had never actually succeeded in giving Erik a hug. Usually she would take a step towards him with open arms, and he would stand his ground, giving her a deep glare that stopped Madame in her tracks. She would then raise an eyebrow at him and say,

"Someday, Erik, we will hug."

His simple response was always, "Perhaps, Madame, but today is not that day."

She then invited him into her office, had him take a seat and asked,

"So, Erik, you have darkened my doorway, are you ready to return to Music?"

"Yes, Madame. And because I have been so very rude as of late, I would like to do something for you. What would you say to moving my lesson to an earlier time?"

"Erik, someday you will learn that you are truly a charming man, when you desire to be. I know that tone of voice, sir. When you take that tone with me, you only want me to think that I am getting what I want, but in reality, what I want just happens to coincide with what you want.

I know you've been practicing earlier in the evening than usual Erik, I've heard you. Has Nadir finally charmed you into enjoying the daylight hours? I'm not sure what purpose this serves, Erik, but since it allows me to go home earlier I won't argue. Mondays and Thursdays at six, yes?"

"Yes, Madame, that would be wonderful."

"As I thought it would. Now I will be able to go home and see Meg for a late supper.

Now, young sir, onto music. I heard you last night, the Debussy sounds excellent, you have brought new life to it. Your own work is coming along well also, are you starting a new artistic phase? There is a lightness to your work that I've not heard before.

We are done with the Schoenberg, I am tired to death of that serialist nonsense, but continue to work on everything else, it will make for a good recital someday."

Before she could continue he asked,

"How long did you listen?"

"Oh, nearly an hour and I wasn't the only one. Many people were entranced by your playing. When you're on form, Erik, you really are amazing."

As she talked she walked over to her book case, and ran her fingers across the spines.

"Ahhh, here," she cried and handed him a book. "this is what you'll work on next."

He looked down and saw a well worn copy of Gershwin's Rhapsody in Blue.

"Madame, there is no reason for me to learn this piece. It is a showy concert piece. I will never play it to an audience, why bother?"

"You will bother because it is music, Erik." Madame snapped in her coldest tones. "Whether you play it in public or not, it is still music, it still touches the soul, and should still be learnt. To perfection." She snapped her teeth on the final syllable as if to further strengthen her point.

"And while were on the topic," she continued more gently, "it is a shame that you will not play in public, Erik, you could be world famous if you wanted. Above all, music is meant to be shared, it is for everyone."

"You know why I will never go public, Madame," Erik replied, the nickname that was normally spoken so tenderly rendered harsh and formal by his tone.

"Yes, yes, yes, enough of that anger, let's not get into it tonight, there are much more important things to do. Back to Rhapsody. You know the best way to practice it, start slowly, learn all the notes correctly. It would be wise to find a score so you can see the orchestral parts, or the band department just got in an excellent arrangement for the wind ensemble, Christine was just telling me about it this afternoon. She said it's very true to the original, she was. . ."
"Christine?"

"Yes, one of Meg's dearest friends, she's really very lovely."

"And Christine knows about the piece because. . ."

"Oh, well, she knows about the piece because she is the band librarian. You might have seen her, she often works late at night during the summer, you know all the work that she has to do for the marching band, the poor thing. . ."

Madame Giry continued talking, mostly about how students these days worked too hard, didn't save anytime for fun.

"No social life to speak of, just like you Erik, you need to go out and socialize. . ."

As much as he disliked people, Madame Giry always made him feel . . . easy with himself. There had been many nights in her office when he could almost forget he wore a mask, could almost forget the reason why he wore it. She talked to him like he was normal, Nadir would argue that you are normal, Erik, input his inner monologue. He also enjoyed her habit of frequently repeating his name. At first he thought it was so she could remember it, but after months of the habit continuing he had to ask her why she did it. Her response was,

"Everyone likes to hear their own name, it makes us feel good, makes us happy. So why shouldn't I say your name. I like to make people happy."

And she was right, in a way, it was always nice to hear her say his name.

"ERIK!"

He winced, this time the sharp tone of his name gave him little joy.

"You are not paying attention! Distracted again so easily?"

"Yes, Madame, I admit I am distracted tonight. I'll waste no more of your time but instead I will leave for the night, I have my assignments to practice and I will see you Thursday at six."

Erik left this lesson smiling. It turned out that he did not have to ask Madame Giry about the girl after all.

He walked down the hall from Madame Giry's office and when he turned the corner he saw that the lights were once again on in the band library. Buoyed by the joy of seeing Madame Giry again he decided to walk down and get the score for Rhapsody. Madame had said it would be a good idea, after all, and he always tried to do what Madame said.

"Christine," he whispered.

Her name was a song. He finally understood what Bernstein and Sondheim meant in the song Maria. He closed his eyes and began to sing.

Maria,

Say it loud and there's music playing,

Say it soft and it's almost like praying.

Maria,

I'll never stop saying,

Maria.

"That was lovely, I love that musical, and you sang so beautifully."

Erik froze and his heart leapt to his throat. His eyes flew open to look into the crystal blue depths of a girl's. Of Christine. He had no words.

"I always wanted someone to sing that to me, thank you for the wonderful serenade."

She smiled and looked him in the eyes, and in the darkened hallway, where he knew she would have trouble seeing his mask, he suddenly felt calm and confident, much like he did with Madame Giry.

"Did you need something?"

He found his voice.

"Yes, I need the score to Rhapsody in Blue. Madame Giry said that the band department had just received a transcription."

"Madame . . . oh, Dr. Giry! Yeah, she was asking about it the other week, it just came in this morning." A look of realization dawned on her face and she continued, "You must be the brilliant student she was talking about! She thinks the world of you!"

"Madame is a wonderful person who does not always see the faults of her students," he said simply.

"Not from what I hear from Meg. Apparently quite a few people leave their lessons crying. But then again, who hasn't? It's happened to me often enough." She glanced up then and caught his puzzled glance. "Well, perhaps you haven't." She then turned her gaze directly to his and said, "It would take a lot more than Dr. Giry to make you cry."

Suddenly, Erik could not breathe. Her gaze and her voice pierced his heart. He was reminded of his mask, and what was underneath it. He panicked, not knowing what to do or say. She turned away walking towards the band library, and in that moment he fled.

"I can't give you the original, I haven't stamped it yet, and anyways, I don't hand out originals to students, but I can make you a copy. . ." she turned back towards him and found he was gone. There was no sign of him anywhere in the hallway, and for the rest of the night, she wondered if she had imagined him.