I do not own The Phantom of the Opera.
I just thought that I'd warn you: April is Script Frenzy, a writing challenge where one tries to write 100 pages worth of some type of script before the end of the month. I'm participating in it this year, so expect fewer updates until May.
The day to return to the opera had come, and Christine still found herself having doubts about going back that morning. She glared at the ceiling for a minute or so before she dragged herself out of bed. Her room was oddly bare because she had packed the night before, and she didn't like the way it felt empty. It made her feel like she was only cluttering the space.
At breakfast, the conversation was dominated by Meg, who only talked more when she was excited about something. Erik seemed to be watching Christine intently, and she knew he could read her feelings clearly on her face. She wanted to talk to him privately before she left, so she gave him a significant look when she stood up.
"I want to thank you," she said when the Girys were out of the room, "for everything."
"You don't-" he started to say.
"Yes, I do. I'm not sure where I'd be right now if you hadn't brought me here."
"You can blame the Vicompte for that," Erik muttered darkly.
"You're probably right," Christine replied. She decided it was probably better to ignore his insult than to defend Raoul on a day when she was going to leave Erik alone. "I can assume you'll be watching me all day?"
"What would a rehearsal be without the ghost?" Erik smiled at her diabolically, and it did nothing to calm her nerves.
"I don't know what you're plotting, but please promise me there will be no deaths."
"I can promise you that much. Nothing else will happen as long as the managers comply." Christine gave him a doubtful look before she left to get her things. After the events at the last performance, she was doubtful that the managers would "comply" as readily as before.
Christine and the Girys said their final good-byes to Erik just inside the Rue Scribe entrance, where Meg surprised them all by throwing her arms around Erik. Christine kissed him lightly on a masked cheek, and Madame Giry awkwardly shook his hand, unsure whether she should have embraced him the way Meg did or not. The trio left Erik in the passage, but Christine couldn't help a glance back at the door.
The first thing that struck them about being outside was the bright sunlight, something none of them had seen in a while. Being in the sun bolstered Christine's confidence, and for a moment she could believe that everything would be as it was before.
It was obvious that things would be different; seeing the managers told her that much. There was a marked change in them since she had last seen them. Both Richard and Moncharmin looked as if they had aged years. They greeted Madame Giry with a distracted, but warm air, but they met Christine with reserve. In their minds, Christine was somehow implicated in the business with the Opera Ghost, and it was the ghost who they were afraid of. Christine found that she was greeted in the same cold, but polite way by most of the opera company. She knew that the ballet girls were whispering about her, but as the leading lady, she was expected to pay little attention to them. The only real bright bits of the day was the new tenor who would replace Piangi, Henri Michel, who didn't know about her past with the Phantom and Carlotta's absence. Henri was actually friendly to her, and she was glad to have someone who could be a clean slate. In addition, Carlotta had left France to join another opera house because waiting for the opera house to be rebuilt was apparently beneath her.
The worst part of the day was the appearance of Raoul. The main patrons of the opera were there for the "new beginning," and Christine dreaded having to talk to him after the way she ran from him at the masked ball. As much as she wanted to apologize, she wasn't sure how to speak to him, or if he even wanted anything to do with her at all. Erik would probably listen to a conversation with Raoul (even if he wouldn't admit it later), and Christine didn't want to examine how she felt about that.
Eventually the day ended, and the only real progress that had been made was assigning parts. It seemed that everyone felt obliged to make some sort of speech about how the opera was "rising from the ashes" and "ushering in a new era after a great tragedy." The speeches were repetitive, and it was obvious that everyone was getting tired of pretending to be interested. Christine was especially tired of the looks she got whenever the performance of Don Juan Triumphant was alluded to. It was a relief when it was finally over and Christine could unpack and possibly slip down to the cellars and see Erik.
"Would you like me to carry that for you?" someone said behind her, referring to her heavy stack of sheet music. It was Raoul.
"Yes, please," Christine replied in a strangled voice. There was a short silence while she handed the music to Raoul. "I'm sorry about what happened at the masked ball," she blurted out suddenly.
"I am, too. I should have seen that things have changed," Raoul said, sounding much older than her really was. Christine didn't know what she expected him to say, but this understanding wasn't it. It pained her to hear him speak that way, and it stirred up some pity for him.
"I should explain," Christine said, almost to herself, "When I left, Erik took me in."
"Erik? You were with that monster?" Raoul said angrily.
"He's not a monster! I love him," Christine retorted hotly.
"Wonderful. Not only do I lose you, but you go to him of all people afterward."
"He found me."
"It doesn't matter, does it? It's not fair either way."
"Maybe if you hadn't abandoned me…"
"What was I supposed to do?"
"You didn't have to listen to them. It's in the past, anyway."
"I suppose you have a point. We shouldn't fight over this."
"I can carry my music myself," Christine said coldly, taking the papers out of Raoul's hands. "Good day."
She turned around quickly and walked away without looking back until she reached her dressing room. Raoul left to find Philippe, feeling jaded and frustrated. He wondered if he would ever accept the loss of Christine Daaé.