(Thank you newbornphanatic for the boost... also, Christine is 15, Erik is in his late twenties. haha. :) anyways, enjoy!)

Chapter 8

Kristina Daae

Where am I? I think. I'm in a black canopy bed, with red sheets. I hear the twinkling little sound of music. I open the thick black curtains. I open the door, hearing music-the sound of the organ... the last thing I remember is... a silver box and the Angel of Music singing... I breathe, quietly walking towards Angel and the black organ. He keeps on playing-and looks to me.

"You're awake." he murmurs and I nod. He gives me a small smile.

"Maestro, you play beautifully." I say, pausing to close my eyes and simply listen. He nods, then stops, "I must take you... back to Madame." I leap up, "Oh, my... I've completely forgotten... how worried they must be!" Angel's black eyes gleam, "Yes... they should be coming in now..."

"It's morning, Angel?" he nods, "Here, change into this and I shall see you tonight, then?" he hands me a long white dress.

"Thank you, Maestro... I shall quickly change and leave you." I change in the bathroom, wash my face, and run my hands over where a mirror would've been. He's removed it-I suppose... but he's no reason too... he's quite handsome, after all.

"Angel, I am ready." The Angel has changed himself, to a ruffled black shirt and a black cloak. I grasp his hand, but he releases it. I look to the ground, "I am sorry, Maestro." He shakes his hand, "No, child... it's just..." he silently rows and we ride the horse through the long black hall lit with torches-even in the morning.

"Farewell, then, child." he whispers. I quietly mumble, "I'll be back, Angel." He grabs my wrist as I open the mirror-then quickly lets go, "I'll see you this evening..." I nod, "Yes, Angel." He winces, "Call me Erik." I beam, pleased he's told me his name, "Till tonight, then? Thank you, Maestr-Erik." he nods, leaving.

I open the mirror and hear a knock on my door.

"Who is it?" I whisper, shivering in the cold morning's breeze. Madame's voice sounds, "It's Madame and Meg, Kristina." I open the door, "Come in."

"Where've you been?" Meg snaps, looking frustrated-then I remember leaving Raoul on her hands...

"I am so-" I am interrupted by Madame, "Meg! Shush! Are you ready for the shoot?" I think, "Um... the shoot? Right... the movie. Yes." Madame swallows, "Get ready... your stylists are to come in soon." she leaves.

"Meg... I'm really sorry to leave you with-" Meg glares, interrupting, "How can you? How can you leave Raoul at your door? And how could you lock your door? My poor Raoul... oh..." she sighs, then turns back to me, "We had our date... and it was lovely-thanks for asking... but, he was so worried that he left quickly! He was a lovely gentleman, though." she turns to leave, as well.

"Meg..." I stumble, reaching for words, confused.

"Leave me alone-after all, you have that movie to do... I don't think you have time for me, or Mother..." she spits, slamming the door shut. I fall to the couch...

Raoul

I wake, thinking of yesterday's date with Kristina's friend, Meg... oh, yes, she was desperate and she simply loved me... but those girls were simply too easy... it's as if, Kristina denying me had made me want to win her more... who was this Angel, though, she had denied me for?

Perhaps he is an angel to her... but is he rich? Is he handsome? Is he a viscount? Did so many girls fawn over him? My brother, Philipe enters.

"Hello, Philipe."

"Raoul. You look devastated... what's wrong?" he asks. I sigh and he chuckles, "Well, well... finally, my dear brother is pining for a girl... who is it?"

"No, Philipe... it's... yes." I finally admit-to my brother who is about twenty years older than me, and like my father-who has taken care of me and our sister when our parents died when I was just a young boy.

"It's easy, Raoul... use your ways... you know your ways with your words and lay compliments, pretend or try to be interested in what she says... that's actually all-oh, and because of your looks, it's easy to charm her..." he smiles. I shake my head, "No... no, it's not that kind of girl... she's different..." Philipe laughs, "Oh, yes... you've fallen hard! Listen to what I've said-" I frown, "No... it's all good advice... but..." Philipe gets serious, "What kind of girl is she?"

"She's... her father's passed and I'm not sure where her mother is," I pause, looking to Philipe-but he's frowning, "Go on... is she a heiress?" I sigh, knowing Philipe wouldn't be pleased, "She works with me, she's an actress and she simply has a heavenly voice-of an angel... she is not a heiress, but..." I look away from Philipe's disapproving gaze.

"She's a childhood friend... and I've remembered her... but it seems I've competition..." Philipe shakes his head at me, "Who are you talking about?" I speak, "This mentor, I suppose... she calls him 'the Angel of Music' and last night, she denied him for me!" I finally say her name, "Kristina Daae." Phillipe is quiet. Then a certain, "No."

"Philipe... I'm serious... I really-"

"No. No, No, Raoul... she has no benefactor-she's not an heiress... not related to any royal blood... she's a star, yes... but a small one, just discovered... you're a vicomte and on top of that-an international superstar!" he laughs, "Did you actually think I would approve? Absolutely not-"

"Don't you dare say another bad word of her... I told you, she's-"

"No." he slams the door and leaves. I stay quiet, furious at Philipe. I calm down a bit and get ready to go the set. I look at myself in the mirror, straightening my blue tie and sighed... I looked absolutely perfect-as I always did, my hair gelled with every piece of smooth blonde hair in place, with a black jacket, pants, and silk shirt perfectly fine... not one wrinkle or crease. Too perfect, that was me... I smile at a crystal clear memory... the red scarf that I had swam to get, during the summer... I had been staring at the girl with golden curls and beautiful blue eyes, standing on the sand with her daddy... she had on a sleeveless blue dress, a black jacket, and the red scarf... I handed the wet red scarf back to her, and we had become friends, spending days together that whole year...

I'd been enchanted by her all this time...

"I'm leaving, Philipe." I call as I take the keys. I drive quickly in my white car to the set. The managers and director greet me and the rest of the maids as well-and the background dancers, but I'm simply seeking Kristina.