Chapter Four -

Christine Daeé, soon to be Victomtess Christine de Chagny in just two short months, sighed as she looked out of the carriage window. She and Raoul were traveling to the Opera Populaire. Raoul would be meeting with the Managers, while she was going to visit Madame Giry and Meg. It had been a couple weeks since their last meeting, and with their new opera only days from opening it would be rude to pull them away from the Populair just to visit when she, herself, could pop in for a visit.

At least that was the reasoning she had given Raoul to allow her to join him in his monthly visit to the Populair. Raoul was so sweet to her. He did not want her to go back to the Populair for fear that it would drag up some painful memories. And though she understood that where he was coming from, the Opera Populair had been her home for years, and she missed it.

Christine dared not let him know just how much she missed her old home. It tugged at her soul. She missed the long nights of whispering with Meg in the dormitories. She missed the exhausting burn of her muscles after a long day of dance practice. However, those paled in comparison to the way she missed the late nights of secret voice lessons with her Angel of Music. She missed listening to her Angel singing to her on the nights that she was too tired to sleep.

Christine feared Raoul ever finding out that she missed her Angel of Music, afraid that he would believe her still under his spell. However, she knew that she was under no spell. And yet, though she felt as if something was not right within the walls of the Populair. She needed to go back to the Populair and check to see if everything was all right. If her Angel was all right. Because a voice in the back of her soul was whispering to her that whatever was not right within the walls of the Populair was tied to him.

Of course the thought that this could all just be a ruse to force her back, but she knew that this was no trick.

Christine glanced at her fiancé and smiled lovingly at him when she caught him staring at her. She loved Raoul dearly and could not wait to he his wife. Thought, if she were to be honest with herself, she felt a tug at her heart whenever her thoughts drifted to her Angel. However, she choked it down to guilt for everything she had done to her Angel. He had been her teacher, her Angel, her friend, and even her protector. Her Angel had loved her so much that it had drove him past the point of madness. It truth, it was her fear of that madness that had pushed her into the loving, and safe, arms of Raoul.

Christine was pulled from her memories by the carriage stopping. She glanced out the window to see that they had made it to the Opera Populair. She allowed Raoul to help her from the carriage before leading her up the steps and into the Populair. Raoul took her hands into his and looked lovingly into her eyes causing Christine to smile at him.

"I shall try not to take too long, and then we shall be on our way." Raoul told her. It was clear that he did not wish for her to suffer any length of time in this place that should hold nothing put painful memories for her. Christine shook her head.

"Do not worry, please, take as long as you need to. Do not rush for my sake. I shall be with Meg and Madame Giry." Christine informed him, Raoul's chin tightened as if he were keeping himself from saying something. However, before Christine could ask him what he wished to say, Raoul was kissing her knuckles.

"Do be safe, call if any thing happens. And, have a wonderful visit." Raoul told her before turning and walking into the Manager's office. She heard them great him before she turned and walked in the direction of the auditorium. It was mid-morning, and with the Opera just days from opening, she new from experience that they would be running the Opera.

Christine looked around the hall as she walked. The once warm and inviting hallway felt cold and distant, and she knew that it was only because the eyes that she had grown used to watching her were gone. And, had Madame Giry not informed her that her Angel had returned, Christine would have believed that he was still gone. She resisted the urge to hug herself, it felt wrong to not have her Angel watching over her as she walked the halls of the Populair.

She walked into the auditorium, smiling kindly at the people who gave her a shocked and confused look, knowing they were only looking at her like that because they thought she would never return. When she got to the backstage, Christine couldn't help but to stop and stare at her best friend. Meg was wearing a beautiful snowy white Prima Ballerina gown with jewels along her arms. Christine's eyes began to drift downward to the young woman kneeling beside her friend, pinning the gown.

Christine couldn't see what the young woman looked like, for she had her face away from her, but she had long, beautiful, dark mahogany hair that reminded Christine of her own hair. Christine tried to recall who the young woman was, there were not that many girls here with dark mahogany hair. No memory of a young woman, other than her, with long, dark mahogany hair came to mind.

However, it did not really come to a surprise to Christine. The young woman was probably a new hire. It had be almost a year since she had left. And the Opera Populair had been in need of new hires ever since most of the workers left after the fire.

"Christine!" Meg cried out, snapping Christine's attention from the young woman back to her best friend. "Ow! Watch it!" Meg yelled at the young woman pinning the gown, shocking Christine. Never before had she heard Meg yell at a seamstress. Had gaining the role of the Prima Ballerina gone to her friends head?

Christine's ears caught the faint sound of the young woman saying something to Meg, however, the woman was speaking too soft for her to hear what had been said.

"I wasn't talking to you!" Meg told the young woman harshly while glaring at her and stomped her foot. The action caused the young woman to drop the needle she had been using, rip her hand from hem and stick one of her fingers into her mouth. It didn't take Christine long to realize that with Meg's sudden movement the young woman had stuck herself with the needle. "CAREFUL!" Meg screeched before moving the white dress away from the young woman. "Don't you dare ruin this costume!"

Christine knew that she should go to the young woman's aid, the the shock of seeing her friend acting like La Carlotta froze her in her spot.

"What is going on here?" Madame Giry demanded as she rushed over to Meg and the young woman, who was now wrapping her finger with a scrap of fabric.

"She stuck me with the needle and then had the gall to nearly ruin the costume! Maman I told you that she would not be able to do it! We should just throw her out and be done with her. She is useless! She can't do anything right!" Meg cried, and the young woman flinched.

"Meg Giry." Madame Giry warned as the young woman began to slowly pack up everything she had been using. Christine's heart went out to the young woman.

"She would not have stuck herself had you not suddenly moved the way you did, Meg." Christine told her, finally getting her body to obey her. She walked over to the young woman and knelt to begin helping her pack. They reached for the same piece of fabric. The second their hands came in contact with one another and painful burning sensation radiated up her arm from the point of contact to her soul. Christine gasped in shocked pain and pulled her hand away to hold it to her chest. The young woman did the same.

The two of them looked at each other, and Christine gasped in shock. She was looking at herself. No, the face she was looking at was not hers, just one similar to her, if not identical. The face similar to hers held shockingly blue eyes instead of her warm, honey brown eyes.

As Christine stared into those shockingly blue eyes that reminded her so much of her Angel's eyes with the same sadness deep within them, Christine's felt her hand move from her chest to reach out to touch the face. She had to make sure that this wasn't a trick. However, before her hand could come in contact with the face, those shockingly blue eyes became guarded, freezing Christine's hand in the air. Those eyes now reminded her of the Phantom. The face disappeared as the young woman stood up and ran from the room, never looking back.

"Christine!" Meg called to her, Christine looked away from the doors that the young woman had disappeared through towards her friend. "Are you all right?" Meg asked holding out her hand for Christine to take so that she could help her to her feet. Christine accepted her help and took Meg's hand, causing Meg to gasp. "Christine! Your hand! What happened to it?"

Christine looked down at her hand that was still in Meg's hand in confusion. She gasped when she saw that her hand was red and looked to have been burnt. Christine snapped her head towards the direction the young woman had run in as she remembered the pain she had felt when their hands had touched. Had that young woman burnt her?

"Who was that young woman?" Christine asked.

"We do not know much about her. We do know that her name is Christine Dexler. She appears to be about 16 years of age. I found her unconscious in the park a few weeks ago, and she has been here since. We have gone to the police, yet no one has come looking for her." Madame Giry informed her. "Moreover, my dear, it appears that our friend has taken an..." she paused to find the correct word, "...an interest in her."

Christine felt a strange and unknown feeling flew through her. She didn't know what the feeling was and forced herself to believe that it was worry. Had her Angel forced himself to believe that this young woman was her?

"How do you know that he had taken an interest in her?" Christine hear herself whisper.

"I have seen him watching her from the shadows. He appears to be trying to figure out who she is." Madame Giry told her and Christine was unsure of how she felt about that.

\ '~' /

Erik was furious. He had seen the whole interactions with the two Christines. He had been shocked and upset when he had see her enter his auditorium and to the back stage. It had taken everything in him to keep from shooting out of the shadows and confronting her. She was no longer wanted here. She no longer belonged here. She had chosen her place, and that was no long the Opera Populair. He had someone else to protect.

Erik had taken note of how Meg had begun to treat Christine, and he did not like it. Something inside his soul whispered, demanded, that he protect this Christine. The darkness in Christine's soul called out to the darkness in his. And so, he had begun to watch over her as Madame Giry tried to find a place for Christine in the Populair. Christine refused to dance and sing and she was not strong enough to help the stagehands. So that had left her to become a seamstress. Christine was good at sowing and soon she had been assigned to be Meg's personal seamstress by Madame Giry.

During the weeks that he had watched over Christine, he was able take note of how different Christine was from her. While she had gone around smiling at people and humming, Christine kept her head down and tried her hardest to stay out of everyone's way. She hated the dark tunnels that ran throughout the Populair, Christine appeared to be drawn to them, longed for them. And yet, she stayed away from them, not out of fear but respect for him.

Moreover, while she had instantly warmed up to Madame Giry and Meg when she had first arrived at the Populair, Christine appeared to maintain a wall between herself and everyone. And it was painfully obvious to everyone that Christine and Meg disliked each other. She had always taken her meals with Meg and the other Ballet Rats, Christine like to take her meals alone in her room, thought, she would occasionally eat with Madame Giry when she was asked.

Though the two Christines looked and sounded alike, they could not have been anymore different.

Erik remembered the anger that had flooded him when Meg had snapped at Christine when she had accidentally stuck Meg with the needle. Everyone could see that it had not been Christine's fault. Meg had startled Christine when Meg had called out her name, it had been unexpected and so Christine had jumped, sticking Meg in the process. Nor had it been Christine's fault when she had pricked herself when Meg had stomped.

As he over heard Meg complaining to her mother about Christine, Erik's mind began to plan how to punish the young Giry. His mind had been ripped from his planning when he heard her gasp in pain while Christine hissed in pain. He watched the two of them stare at each other before she tried to reach out and touch Christine. However, the look in Christine's eyes stopped her before Christine shot up and ran from the room. He had followed her, listening to her mutter words that a lady should never utter, just another thing that was different between them.

He was now standing behind the mirror watching Christine pace her room holding her now red and burnt hand to her chest, that was noticeably larger than hers. Something had happened when she had touched Christine because he knew that Christine's hand was unharmed before then. She would also need to be punished for harming Christine.

Erik spun on the balls of his feet and ran back through the tunnels towards the flies, grabbing a can of blood-red pain on his ways. He quickly found her and Meg underneath the catwalk whispering excitedly together. He narrowed his eyes in anger at them, they were acting as if nothing had happened, as if they hadn't wronged Christine.

He quickly dumped the paint on the girls and laughed. The Phantom was back, and this time no one would stop him. She locked eyes with him, he glared at the hurt in her eyes. How dare she feel hurt after what she not only did to him but to Christine. He turned and ran from the catwalk as the Ballet Rats began to scream that he had returned.

~She was no longer your Angel of Music. She had chosen to leave you in the dark to run around in the light with the Vicomte.~ He told himself as he made his way back to the passage behind the mirror. He watched as Christine, now sitting on the floor leaning against her bed, wrapped her burnt hand.

~You do not need her, you have a new Angel. This one has fallen from heaven. This one is as hurt and as dark as you.~ Erik's heart skipped a beat when Christine's shockingly blue eyes that held so much pain and sadness in them locked with his through the mirror as if she would sense him there.

~She is your Dark Angel.~ Christine got up and walked over to the mirror and rested her burnt hand on the mirror, Erik rested his hand on his side of the mirror.

~I will protect you. Always.~

Edited: 6/4/2020