CHAPTER THIRTEEN:
Christine POV

I sat in Andre and Firmin's office, staring at my knees, as the people around me decided my fate. They debated whether or not I should sing in the opera Erik had obviously written for me. The storyline of passionate lovers, the costumes, makeup, characters: every "i" had been dotted with a care that only he possessed, to make sure every sentence was perfect for his songbird.

I knew he had loved me, but I had to wonder if he loved me still, after the Hell I was putting both of us through.

"We have all been blind, and yet the answer is staring us right in the face," Raoul told the crowd around me, who listened intently as I played with my gown.

"This could be the chance to ensnare our clever friend."

I doubted that. Erik probably was listening at the door right now, if not in the room disguised as someone else. Didn't they know he knew everything that went on around here? The passages within the walls were his home. He crept around here like it was a walk in the park! I couldn't see how he would be caught.

"We're listening, go on!" the managers begged, tensing in their chairs.

"We shall play his game, perform his work but remember that we hold the ace."

I was the ace. Raoul had told me the plan before we arrived. I was going to offer myself to Erik during the performance, risk life and limb to earn the chance to never have to see him again. But did I want that chance?

I knew for every ace, there were three more, and Erik certainly had a couple extra cards up his sleeve. Raoul confirmed what I was sure everyone had already concluded.

"For if Miss Daae sings, he is certain to attend."

Not if you sit in his seat he won't, I thought. He'll find somewhere you'll never dream he'd be. Erik wasn't a fool. It was obvious to play this hand of cards. I felt as though I was planning to be captured.

"We are certain the doors are barred," Andre prompted, following his lead. Barred doors? Erik didn't even use doors! He would walk through walls to foil our ploys.

"We are certain police are there," Firmin joined in, glad to have such a 'surefire' plan.

"We are certain that they are armed," Raoul added. I mentally rolled my eyes. Sending a whack load of armed police through the theatre was the most conspicuous thing they could do. Erik would spot them from a mile away!

"The curtain falls, his reign will end!"

~0~0~0~0~

The night of Don Juan Triumphant had arrived. Police marched through the halls, performers bustled backstage, and Raoul went over the plan a thousand times with the managers. The only one who seemed nervous was me.

I spent the entire day in the chapel, singing to my angel, who did not respond, all the while trying not to have an emotional breakdown. As night descended and my moments of freedom began to dwindle, my sobbing only got worse. Eventually, Raoul found me down there.

"Lotte, you must come up now," he told me and I felt more tears flow. I pushed my hand against my head, trying to soothe the raging headache that appeared a few minutes before.

"Raoul, I'm frightened. Don't make me do this," I begged him, biting my lip. I stood up, needing him to cancel this madness and let me simply sit down here forever. I had once loved daylight, but now I despised it.

The day was the time I had to think about the mess I had spawned. At night everything disappeared into darkness and I was free to dream peacefully. But night's hold was not strong enough to make me forget.

"You must, Christine. For everyone's sake," Raoul muttered, which didn't comfort me.

"Raoul, it scares me. Don't put me through this ordeal by fire." He held me, but I knew he would still put me through it, so we would be rid of Erik forever. Maybe I didn't want to be rid of him, maybe I did. It was all so confusing and I didn't know who to listen to, or who to trust.

"He'll take me, I know. We'll be parted forever." And my father would never forgive me.

"He won't let me go."

Raoul continued to hold me, obviously not knowing what to say. That was fine, he usually said the wrong thing anyway.

I pulled away from his grip, walking toward the stained glass angel in the window and sat on the ledge beneath it.

"What I once use to dream, I now dread. If he finds me it won't ever end, and he'll always be there singing songs in my head. He'll always be there singing songs in my head."

Songs of love, songs of protection. But were those songs true? Raoul walked over to where I sat.

"You said yourself he was nothing but a man, yet while he lives he will haunt us 'til we're dead," Raoul remarked, as if this would soothe me. Yes, I knew he was a man, but he was so much more than that. His mind, his soul extended far past the constraints society had. I slipped into his secret world once, but did I want to go back, forever? I found myself thinking aloud.

"Twisted every way, what answer can I give? Am I to risk my life to win the chance to live? Can I betray the man who once inspired my voice~" Again, "Do I become his prey, do I have any choice? He kills with out a thought, he murders all that's good." Then again, Buquet was pretty vile himself, so there wasn't really a loss there, but a murder was a murder was it not?

"I know I can't refuse, and yet, I wish I could. Oh, God! If I agree, what horrors wait for me in this, the Phantom's opera?" I asked aloud, not really sure if I was simply talking to myself, or Raoul or someone else.

"Christine, Christine, don't think that I don't care, but every hope and every prayer rests on you now," Raoul told me, very uncaringly despite how he thought he had said it. Those words only released new questions into my head, and I ran to the door with tears in my eyes.

"Don't be late, Little Lotte!" he called, not seeming to notice the torrent of tears that streamed down my cheeks. I ran up the stairs to a deserted hallway and collapsed, sobbing silently into my hands.

A snake-like voice I knew so well hissed from far below me, traveling unbeknownst to him, straight to my ears through the nearby heating pipes.

"Seal my fate tonight, I'd hate to have to cut the fun short, but the joke's wearing thin. Let the audience in. Let my opera begin!"

A hand touched my shoulder and I looked up. Madame Giry stood over me.

"It is starting, mademoiselle," she told me, taking me away from Erik's echoing voice.

Tonight was the last anyone would hear of this twisted love-triangle. Would it be my father's choice, or the dashing man who had come through dreams, that captured me once and for all?

Only time would tell, but I was sure of one thing: One of my Don Juan's would triumph, and it would be tonight!