CHAPTER FIVE:
Christine POV

Madame Giry took me off of Meg's hands as soon as we came above ground, and I was rather glad she did. The swarm of admirers that gathered for me was overwhelming. If the people had been water, I was more than certain I would be up to my neck in it.

For a ballet teacher, Madame Giry was a strong woman. She pushed through the crowd with the ease of a wrestler, and I was more than happy to follow close behind. She shoved me through the door, shouting at the crowd to leave me alone.

After sealing the door, she turned to me with a rare smile on her face. She picked up a blood red rose that lay upon the dresser.

"He is pleased with you," she told me.

I looked up at her as I took it. She knew him… yet she had never thought to tell me about him.

I looked down at the rose. A black ribbon was tied tightly around it, and I pulled at the bow a little. Whoever had done this certainly took their time and care with it. He was awfully nice. How I wished to meet him one day.

I looked up to Madame Giry, but she was gone already. Sighing quietly to myself, I went over to the tall mirror and surveyed my reflection.

I didn't look too bad, surprisingly. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to touch up my make-up, I might attend the after party with Meg and it would be a fancy event.

I sat at the wide vanity table, inspecting the state of my eye shadow. I didn't really find anything to fix, and so after a minute or two of fussing, I settled on examining the rose.

I was playing at the petals, when I heard someone speak.

"Little Lotte let her mind wander," a man's voice said. I looked up at myself in the mirror. Oh, no. Not the poem!

Raoul had devised a poem about me one day, to avoid boredom, and had recited it nearly every time we met. Little did he know that poem was the most idiotic thing I had ever heard. Let my mind wander. I wish I could wander from the room!

"Little Lotte thought, am I fonder of dolls, or goblins or shoes?" Raoul asked, striding towards me with a large bouquet of flowers. Though bigger and more plentiful, I couldn't help but notice they weren't as striking as the rose.

"Raoul," I murmured, smiling in spite of myself. I really did love flowers. I had picked so many in the field behind my father's house, daffodils, petunias and lilies, but my favourite had always been the roses that grew on a bush near the garden.

Raoul set the bouquet aside, stepping closer to me.

"Or of riddles or frocks," he continued.

"Those picnics in the attic," I reminisced. That you weren't supposed to attend, I added to myself. I would eat alone in the attic with my imaginary friends, and Raoul had decided to join me a couple of times, much to my annoyance.

"Or chocolates." He looked as though he'd had his fair share of chocolates himself, but I didn't comment on that.

"Father playing the violin." That was something pleasant to remember. My father had been a wonderful violin player, the best of the world I thought.

"As we read to each other dark stories of the north," he added, kneeling down before me. I had liked those stories, but I wouldn't listen to them often, telling myself my own stories, unless of course we read about the Angel of Music. I always paid attention then.

That thought reminded me of the last part of the poem.

"No, Lotte said~" It pained me to call myself Lotte, but it was necessary in the moment. "~Is when I'm asleep in my bed, and the Angel of Music sings songs in my head."

He joined in on the second time.

"The Angel of Music sings songs in my head." He wasn't a very good singer, but I didn't expect him to be. Besides, he wasn't being trained by…

I wondered if I could tell him about my Angel. No one else believed me, but Raoul… maybe he would.

I didn't manage to tell him right away, for her put his arms around me in an embrace.

I embraced him back, not wanting to be rude. He hadn't really done anything too annoying yet, except for the poem, but he didn't know about that.

"You sang like an angel tonight," he murmured in my ear, pulling away to look at me.

I would tell him, I could see he was much more mature than I had thought. I was certain he would believe me.

"Father said, 'when I'm in Heaven child, I will send you the Angel of Music'." I felt my smile fade, but I didn't allow it to come back just yet.

"Well, Father is dead, Raoul. And I have been visited by the Angel~" He cut me off, looking more understanding than Meg had been.

"Oh, no doubt of it!" he agreed, shaking his head in agreement.

I smiled. He did understand me! Raoul had changed so much. Perhaps we could be friends after all. That hope was crushed almost instantly after it had been conceived.

"And now, we go to supper." My mouth dropped open. He had played me for a fool. He didn't believe me, he thought I was joking! I filled with distress at his games.

"No, Raoul. The Angel of Music is very strict," I told him, very seriously. Once, my Angel had given me such a reprimanding, that I had nearly burst into tears! He was hardly ever mad now, but I supposed that was because I didn't want to displease him, for Father's sake.

Raoul didn't pick up on my urgency.

"Well, I shan't keep you up late," he joked, laughing as he walked to the door.

"Raoul, no," I called, feeling a little betrayed. He turned around, laughing with a nearly girlish tone.

"You must change!" he told me, still lighthearted. "I'll get my carriage. Two minutes… Little Lotte." Lotte!

"No, Raoul. Wait!" But he had left. I sighed. Great. Now I wouldn't be able to see my Angel tonight. He was going to kill me!

There was no use standing around. I was sure he'd be back knocking on my door in a minute.

I heard a small noise, like the sound of a key turning in a lock, but I ignored it, passing it off for the squeak of pipes instead.

Heading to the cupboard, I slipped out of my gown, picking out a loose dress.

It was rather more revealing than what I usually wore for, but I was just going to use it for an undergarment anyways. I slipped it on, letting my hair hang down for a moment. Putting it up was such a nuisance sometimes.

I was just about to untie the strings of the corset, (I had made it far too tight around my chest) when the candles blew out. If not for the candles closest to me, I would have been in darkness.

At first, I thought it was just a gust of wind I hadn't felt, but looking around the room, I realized there were no windows. Suddenly, the candles to my right were snuffed out mysteriously, and I felt a creeping suspicion run up my back. This wasn't right. Maybe I should be changing somewhere else.

I turned to go, but was stopped in my tracks by a voice that boomed like thunder behind me.

"Insolent boy, this slave of fashion. Basking in your glory!" My Angel's voice cried. He was right. Raoul had only come to me because of my fame, but I really hadn't suspected any other reason for his visit.

"Ignorant fool! This brave young suitor, sharing in my triumph!" Our triumph, I corrected in my head, but didn't say it aloud.

Turning around, I faced where I thought his voice came from, and nodded to show I agreed with him.

"Angel, I hear you. Speak, I listen. Stay by my side, guide me. Angel, my soul was weak, forgive me. Enter at last, master!" I sung back to him, somehow glad he was here, though it was a little odd how he had returned to me. It was almost ghostly, the setting that he chose for us.

He seemed quite pleased with my apology.

"Flattering child, you shall know me. See why in shadows I hide." My heart began to throb wildly. Was this real? I was going to meet him. My wish was coming true!

"Look at your face in the mirror, I am there inside!" I obeyed, and nearly felt my legs buckle. Instead of my own face, that of a masked man stared back at me.

I could not see wings, a halo around his head or anything that looked like the pictures of angels I had seen in books. Truthfully, he didn't look anything at all like an angel should. But this did not discourage me in the slightest and as slowly as if I were in a dream (which I nearly thought I was), I stepped forwards to him.

"Angel of Music, guide and guardian, grant to me your glory! Angel of Music, hide no longer, come to me, strange angel!" I almost begged, completely succumbing to my exhilaration, and not questioning if I should be approaching this man.

I was so close to the mirror, I was bound to smack against it, but as I drew nearer, I found that there was no barrier between this man, or angel, or whatever he was, and me.

Now in the passage, a realization snapped into place. My Angel was not immortal. He was a man like any other. He didn't seem like just any man though. There was something much more lurking within and I couldn't resist the intrigue of what it might be.

"I am your Angel of Music. Come to me Angel of Music," he sung eerily, and suddenly the reason for the mask snapped into place. This man was not just any man: he was the Phantom of the Opera!

Almost as soon as this comprehension registered, I heard the thumping on the door.

"Who is that in there?" Raoul's voice shouted, as he jiggled the handle violently. I was now in serious danger, and any sensible girl would have run as far and as fast as they could from the room, which I briefly considered doing.

But he wasn't like the Phantom of the ballerinas' legends. This Phantom had been kind and gentle with me, and I had waited for so long for this moment.

As if I needed any more coaxing, The Phantom beckoned me with his black leather gloved hand.

"I am your Angel of Music," he repeated.

"Christine!" came Raoul's yells through the door, but he was too late.

"Come to me Angel of Music." His hand was before me. I still hadn't given myself to him yet. I was on the point of no return, and the safest choice was to refuse. My heart and mind were one in the decision.

Hesitating for a mere moment, I took his hand and left Raoul behind.