CHARLES

She was looking at me like I was crazy, but I was too overcome with excitement to care. I grabbed both of her hands and said,

"I am going to try out for lead tenor here!" I said, entirely satisfied with myself. She didn't respond, she just looked at me as if I were the most insane person she had ever laid eyes on.

"That's great Charles, but there's one small problem with that…" She said, and I pulled back.

"What?" I asked, seeing no problems.

"We already have a lead tenor." She said dryly, and I grinned again. It paid to have your father as the opera patron. I knew things even the chorus didn't know.

"Not anymore," I explained. "Dad told me this morning that Anselmo is transferring to the Rome opera to be with his wife. Auditions are next week."

"Oh…" She said, surprised. "I didn't know that." I looked around the room and still couldn't believe that my mother had used this dressing room before. Maybe even mere months before I was born. But this letter, it really perplexed me. It was a simple love note, but there were hidden meanings and mysteries beyond my knowledge in those few lines. I will not let him take you from me…Who? I'd always thought Mother and Dad had been childhood sweethearts. One word kept ringing through my mind. Erik. Did this have something to do with him? Was this why Dad was so secretive about Mother's past?

"Charles?" A small hand had come to rest on my forearm as I stared blankly at that huge mirror. I looked down to see Maddie staring up at me, concerned. Unable to help myself I smiled. She looked so innocent with her big sparkling hazel eyes and her pouty lips. Friends, we're friends…I reminded myself, pushing back the urge to kiss her. She doesn't feel that way about you.

"Sorry Maddie, just thinking is all…" I replied and she nodded, understanding.

"It's that letter isn't it?" She said softly and I nodded my head to tell her it was.

"Why don't you just ask your father about it?" She offered and I smiled sadly.

"It wouldn't work…He won't tell me." I replied, knowing Dad didn't like to talk about that time in their lives.

"So you're serious about trying out then?" She asked, changing the subject.

"Yes, I am…" I said, grinning and she shook her head.

"You and about twenty other men who crave fame." She muttered, and I shrugged, turning toward the door and grabbing her hand.

"It's worth a shot." I said, leading her from the room and back down the halls. When we reached her room, I was sad that our day together had come to an end.

"Are you alright?" I asked, touching her shoulder as I remembered the scene in the storage room.

"Fine…" She replied, a smile playing at the corner of her lips. I sighed.

"Well, I suppose I should be getting back home…" I said, not wanting to leave.

"Yes, I suppose that's best…" She said, looking down. I lightly kissed her cheek, hoping she wouldn't feel how violently I was shaking, and she looked up at me, touching her fingertips to her cheek.

"Well, goodbye then." I said, starting to back away and she nodded.

"Goodbye Charles." She said in her calm voice and turned to go into her room. Just as she was about to close the door, I stepped in and stopped her.

"What is it Charles?" She asked, a bit surprised and confused. I gulped and smiled nervously.

"I um…do you want to go get something to eat by any chance?" I said so quickly I was afraid she hadn't understood by how she was looking at me. She had raised an eyebrow, but looked thoughtful.

"Well, I am hungry." She admitted and shrugged. "Why not? Just let me get my money…" I put a hand up to stop her.

"No. My treat. Please…for putting up with my insanity." I said, trying to keep the mood light. For a moment, it looked like she was going to protest, but she obviously decided against it and said,

"Fair enough. You are daft, you know."

I led her to a small café that Gabe had told me about. She hesitated at the door of the restaurant, gripping my arm tightly.

"Is something the matter, Madeleine?" I asked her, and she looked up at me.

"No. Nothing…" She said quickly and I led her to a small table near the kitchen. Women whispered to their companions as we walked by, staring at Maddie as if she were a worthless piece of dirt. Maddie heard one girl say,

"Oh my, it's Charles de Chagny…but what is he with?" I heard this and shot the woman a look of disgust and put my arm around Madeleine's shoulders. Stupid shallow pigs. For once, Maddie wasn't resisting me and clung to me, looking around in fright.

"Don't let those tarts get to you Maddie…" I soothed her, feeling her tremble. She looked up at me.

"What?" She asked, confused, and I wondered if we were worried about the same thing. I pulled her chair out for her and sat across from her. She was white as a sheet.

"Jesus, are you alright?" I asked her when suddenly a loud booming voice came from inside the kitchen.

"Girl, get those dishes cleaned…" Maddie's mouth dropped open in fright as the man emerged from the kitchen. A large older man, who looked like he thought he was God.

"Oh my God…" She said softly in terror. I grabbed her hand.

"What? What is it?" I asked, looking at him and she tried to breathe.

"It's him…" She said and I looked at him again.

"Who?"

"Dupont." She said and my mouth dropped open. Suddenly, rage filled me and I had the sudden urge to break his neck with my bare hands.

"Why didn't you tell me this was the place?" I asked, feeling like an ass.

"I-I don't know…" She said, "I thought maybe if I could face this place, I could forget." I rose, going to her and putting my hand out for her to take.

"Come on," I said, "We're getting the hell out of here and going to my house." She didn't argue and got up quickly, clinging to me again when someone tapped her on the shoulder.

" 'Scuse me, do I know you?" I spun around to see Dupont standing there, trying to see Maddie's face, but she shook her head, still facing the other way. He looked at me disdainfully as I said, thinking quickly,

"Excuse us sir, but my fiancée isn't feeling well at all…I must get her home." I heard a few women gasp when I said fiancée, including Madeleine. I gently guided her out and she looked up at me in horror.

"Fiancée?" She cried and I shrugged.

"I didn't want him to think you might be single, so he could assume he knew you and had a right to talk to you." I replied smoothly and she softened.

"Oh. Thanks…" She said and I shrugged again.

"Forget about it, let's go to my house…I don't like to see Dad eating alone anyways." I replied and we went back to the opera to get a cab. I helped her in and we were off.

After I paid the driver, we went into the house just as the sun was starting to set.

"Dad! We've got company!" I said, a little shocked by how quiet the house was. "Therese? Aunt Laney? Anyone?" Maddie looked up at me, a bit worried as I took her hand and led her up to Dad's study. Surely he wasn't still in there. I opened the door and gasped when I saw him slumped over the desk, unconscious, still holding the bottle of brandy in one hand and his empty glass in the other.

"Oh my God. Dad!" I said, running to him and motioning for Madeleine to help me get him up. We each draped on of his arms around our shoulders and helped him to his feet as he groaned drunkenly. He smelled of brandy and tobacco, which meant he must have been at his pipe as he always was when he was fretting.

After a bit of a struggle we got him to his room and a flopped onto the bed, pulling Maddie down with him as she let out a shriek.

"Christine, you look so lovely tonight…" He mumbled before passing out completely as I helped Maddie up.

"I'm sorry," I said, taking off his shoes and swinging his feet up onto the bed, "I've only seen him like this once and that was when Mother died." I apologized to her and she smiled.

"That's alright. Poor man…he must be so lonely without her." She sighed and I looked at him, smiling slightly in his sleep. In the state he was in, I had no doubt, he'd thought Madeleine was my mother.

She looked around the bedroom and gasped when she saw Mother's portrait.

"What's the matter?" I asked, afraid to hear the answer and she pointed to the painting.

"That…that's me!" She cried, and I laughed.

"No, that's my mother, Christine. I do see the resemblance though…" I said, smiling and she looked at me, confused.

"The painting of her at the opera was not as detailed as this, but this is unbelievable!" She cried, "The only difference is our eye color." I nodded.

"I suppose from time to time, people are born with the same general bone structure as another…come on," I said, taking her arm, "Let's go find something to eat!" She took one last look at the painting, then at Dad before I shut the door behind us.