Christine woke to the cold. She looked over at the dark alarm clock. Damn. No power.

She wrapped her quilt around her and plodded down the dark steps to the pantry. She started lighting the candles. All of the candles. She placed them so that no corner was unlit, no shadows threatened.

Christine sat at the piano. She stared at the keys. Erik had played the piano so well... She reached up and set her hands up on the keys, and started to sing.

I have never sung this well... maybe... Erik... It can't be. He's just a dream.

---------((0))

Dong. Dong. Dong. Dong. Dong. Dong. Dong. Dong. Dong. Dong.

Christine genuflected in the pew and stepped out of the shrine of Saint Glinda into the sunshine. It's warmer than it has been all week, she smiled as she walked down the road towards her apartment, passing through the various cafes. She bumped into a man and was rewarded by his middle finger shoved in her face. Christine blushed and started to walk faster.

"Oh! Excuse me! I'm so sorry," she exclaimed as she surveyed the blond, blue-eyed man who she had just caused to spill coffee down himself.

"That's O.K." he sighed. "Ill be fine... sorry, what is you name?"

"Christine. Christine Daae."

"Raoul de Chagny. Have we met before? I could have sworn I've heard that name before."

"Oh! We knew each other back in Kindergarten!"

"Of course! How could I forget you and our playground wedding?" Raoul smiled. "Hey do you want to come in and have some coffee with me?"

"Oh, I couldn't"

Raoul grinned. "It would make up for the coffee you spilled on me earlier. Come on, Little Lotte, I'm buying."

"O.K. … I guess"

"So, how's it going? I haven't seen you in what, ten years? How's your father?"

"He..um... died my senior year of high school."

"I'm sorry," he put his hand over hers. She stared sadly at them.

"Anyways, I'm an editor know at Leferve publishing. I've been editing Carlottta Guidicelli's books lately."

"That's great. I haven't really had much free time to read lately with managing my father's stock broking business." Raoul's Blackberry buzzed, as if on cue. He pulled it out and checked it. "Sorry. I gotta go, but here," he pulled out his business card and wrote something on the back, "is my number. Call me if you ever need help. So long, Little Lotte." Christine closed her eyes, enjoying the warmth of her coffee and the sunshine through the front window. Wow, she is more beautiful than ever, Raoul thought as he left the coffee shop.

---------((0))

I haven't seen him in ages. Christine blushed. He sure is hot now. She inspected her back and frowned – four roses now, three old, one new.

---------((0))

"Who is that boy?" he hissed near silently in my ear.

"He-he's no one – what boy?" I blundered.

"I forbid you to see him," he commanded quietly. I could feel the cold seeping through my bones. I stood gathering my courage.

"And why should I do that?"

He straightened to his full height above me his eyes burning with fire straight from Hell. " You agreed to my deal. You will obey me."

"And why would I do that."

"You will do it. You would want your pretty boy to remain breathing do you not?" he saw the look of horror on my face and smiled. "Good. I am understood. Come let us go sing." He offered his hand to help me out of the deep, warm leather chair.

My voice cracked several times before Erik's fist banged down on the piano.

"Focus," he growled.

"How can I focus? You – you...you cannot stop staring at me!" I threw down my music and flopped down in the chair. "Why? Why are you doing this? Please! He's no harm to me or you! Hell, you're only a dream," I mumbled.

"Am I? You shook my hand. You made the deal. You must accept what I ask in turn," He smirked.

I ran at the door. " Let me out!" I opened the door. Only cement wall hid behind the door. " Let me out, you monster!"

"Yes, monster I am," he mused. "You have not finished your lesson."

He walked back over to the piano. He pulled out a new set of sheet music and started to sing. Oh, how he sang! I could not resist his voice. His voice willed me to come, to stand next to the piano. I could not resist. He finished his song and I stood at the curve at the piano.

"Sing," he softly commanded.

I sang.

I must admit that I am impressed. Five reviews. Thank you to all who reviewed. You have no idea how you help to make a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day so much better. (End of warm fuzzy.) The chapters are short, I know. I am not very good at writing long chapters and, for how this story is organized, I would end up boring you to death. Intriguing idea, LoveLiberty (). I cannot tell you if I shall use it or not, though. 'Twould spoil the surprise.

Enjoying my "canned capitalism",

Raven Sharpe

(posted 02-21-10)