Hello dears,

A little cockier of an Erik than we're used to, right? And what's everyone's opinion on Miss Christine Daae: Strong and confident, or is it only a mask? Also, longer chapters like this with more time between updates, or is there a preference for chapter lengths like the first chapter and more constant updates? Personally I'm going for the first option, just because I'm a firm believer of quality versus quantity, but let me know! Don't forget to leave me a review and let me know your thoughts!

Shout out to Bookgirl13 for being the first reviewer- thank you for your support, darling!

Ever yours,

The Soprano in Shadow


Andre paced angrily in front of the airport gate, which the bubbly brunette was supposed to have exited from quite a few hours ago. The bloody diva was supposed to be here this evening, not the next morning! Marching over to the salt-and-pepper-haired man, arguing with the publicist who handled the brunette's operatic affairs, Andre grabbed the phone from him and ended the phone call.

"Andre, are you insane? Cat is supposed to be at a press conference today and she still hasn't arrived yet! Carlotta just simply has to alert the media and change the conference to tomorrow!" Firmin whined, trying to grab the phone out of the grey-haired man's clutches.

"Firmin, you might be adorable in bed when you whine, but in public, it's bloody embarrassing!" Andre snapped, shoving the phone into his pocket, procuring a turned up nose from his partner.

"And while you, Andre, might be good between the sheets, that doesn't mean you're just as good when you're between me and my mobile conversations!" Firmin shot back.

"Ah, so I am good in bed. You're finally ready to admit it!" Andre crowed smugly.

"Boys, what have I told you about PDA in front of me?" demanded a grouchy voice. Looking behind them, they saw the famous opera singer in all of her public glory with a cart of Louis Vuitton luggage behind her.

"Cat, I said for you to be here about five hours ago! Do you know how long we've been standing here waiting? We all need our beauty sleep, darling." Andre stated, as Firmin's hand slid into Andre's pocket and quickly snatched his phone back.

"Details, details." Christine said. "Now, who's going to roll my luggage out this time? She asked sweetly, laughing as both of the men paled. While she may have to stress about her day job, it did have its perks. Like not having to handle her own luggage, or being able to get a plane ticket last minute with no charge because the head of the airline company was one of her biggest fans.

Startling the three of them, Firmin's phone began to ring with Carlotta's name flashing on the screen. Rolling his eyes, he answered the phone, walking away quickly in order to avoid luggage duty.

"Firmin here. What now?" He stopped as he listened intently to the sharp tones of the prima donna publicist. "Oh really? I thought that he—Oh. Oh! I see! Well then, will he—He will? Lovely! Talk soon." Turning around Firmin gave a wide grin to the two observers, then turned around again whistling happily as he made his way toward the airport's exit.

"Firmin! What did the shrieking hag say?" Andre demanded, referring to Carlotta's high-pitched and annoying voice. If she wasn't the best publicist out there….

"She called to say that the conference has been moved a day later. But not because of our dear little tardy diva here. Apparently the composer has decided to make a public appearance to speak about his opera and is only available tomorrow afternoon." Firmin said cheerfully.

"The composer will be there? Mister Destler is going to make an appearance?" Christine asked, amazed. A brilliant virtuoso who had composed several operas before Don Juan Triumphant, Christine had always held a small crush for the mysterious composer—not that she would ever admit that. His self-written librettos and music were always beautifully tragic and heart breaking. In fact, Christine had listened to his operas and compositions non-stop while trying to recover from him.

She stopped thinking for a moment, and cleared her mind of the monster who haunted her past, turning her mind back to the beauty of this new opera. She had read about some opinions from the conductor (whom she had a very close platonic relationship with) via email about this new opera being harsh and inappropriate—apparently nothing like the other operas that this genius had composed before—however, Christine understood.

She understood the pain underneath the seducer Don Juan and his fascination with Amnita. She saw the beauty, and she would make sure to pull the composer aside (if he was in fact planning on appearing at the press conference) and tell him exactly that.

"Let's go, darlin'!" Firmin's voice broke through her thoughts, as she hurried to catch up with the two men and the cart of luggage.

"Alright, so rehearsal in ten hours, missy. Dinner at seven this evening, back at the apartment before nine. Tomorrow afternoon is the new conference at one, run through of Act One, dinner and then we pull our clients' folders out and strategize." Andre said as he pulled the Louis Vuitton-made hill behind him.

"Apartment? More like penthouse…" Christine grumbled tiredly. Because of her love for New York City, Antoinette Giry always loaned out one of her many "large" apartments to the top assassins in the Organization.

Not only did it keep the assassins happy, but it also kept their hotel costs down with the amount of clientele they took care of in the Big Apple.

As the town car pulled away from the airport's circle driveway, Christine began to drown out the bickering between her two contacts, with thoughts of a faceless composer, and an irritating masked man.

"Miss Daae, if you could wander out onto stage right from that entrance before you begin your part of the duet? Yes! Exactly like that! Now the composer suggests moving downstage while singing the 'No thoughts within her head' section—Perfect! Absolutely lovely, Miss Daae!" The stage director, her name had already escaped the brunette's mind because of hyper enthusiasm, exclaimed as she read out the markings in her own score. "Mark! Fill in for the nonexistent 'Don Juan', will you?" Christine snorted at that last remark as one of the tenors from the chorus rushed out from backstage. Was there a male who acted more a diva than even her?

"When do I get to meet this mysterious tenor?" Christine asked sweetly, curious about whom she would be sharing this passionate duet with.

"Well…" Here, the stage director's enthusiasm died as she struggled to find the correct words, "We're not exactly sure. We only know that the composer will be present for the press conference, so we'll know by tomorrow's rehearsal. The composer requested for his chosen male lead to rehearse with himself first before joining us tomorrow. Perhaps Mister Destler is confident in your abilities and not the tenor's."

Christine smirked at the stage director's words. Of course Mister Destler should have confidence in her abilities—she was world-renowned for her technique after all.

"Alright everyone, five minutes to catch a breath while the orchestra assembles. I'm sure all of you could use the quick break." With a murmur of relief, the chorus and other main character singers began to stretch and head towards their individual water bottles with hope for a few minutes of peace.

"Mademoiselle Daae! A pleasure to see you once again!" Monsieur Reyers exclaimed happily as the orchestra members began to make their way into the orchestra pit.

Christine smiled at the sight of the friendly old French Canadian conductor. A family friend of the Daaes, Christine remembered how he and her father would reminisce about their old performance memories over a pint of beer or a glass of whiskey.

"It's wonderful to see you once again, Monsieur Reyers," she responded with a smile.

Casting another second of amusement towards the brunette, Monsieur Reyers turned and scowled upon seeing the instrumentalists who had begun to chat with one another. "Ladies and gentlemen, this is a rehearsal, not a social event!" he snapped, causing them to hurry into warm-ups and review the sticky areas within the instrumental score, before working on the duet between Don Juan and Amnita.

As the other members of the opera still relaxed for a few more minutes, Christine began to practice her blocking alongside the duet that the orchestra was working on. With a quick nod from the temperamental conductor, as the orchestra neared the entrance of the second verse, Christine began to allow the steady breathing take over both her mind and diaphragm, as she opened her mouth and let her voice soar alongside the wind and string instruments.

The side conversations ended as the rest of the chorus members listened in stupor to the angelic sounds that erupted from this tiny body before them. So this was the powerful siren voice that kept the world in complete adoration of the brunette lyric soprano.

"You have brought me, to that moment when words run dry. To that moment when speech disappears into silence, silence. I have come here, hardly knowing the reason why..."

As Christine continued singing her portions of the passionate duet, Christine closed her eyes to the house and stage around her. She could only hear this seductive music as she moved in sync with it. These moments were what she lived for. This is why she could never leave the world of opera behind her. This music, this alone, was the only thing that kept her from leaving the ordinary world altogether, instead of forever living within a world of shadow and cold-blooded murder...

...

"Miss Daae over here!"

"Miss Christine!"

"Miss Daae, answer my question next!"

"Any chance of a love life this time, Christine?"

Christine Daae smiled as the reporters snapped photo after photo of her and fired question after question. Sending a quick nod to her publicist, Carlotta Giudicelli leaned into the microphone. "Enough!" she screeched, as the microphone feedback and her voice caused all of the reporters to wince in irritation. Although she had studied voice in college, Miss Giudicelli had quickly realized that the stage was not her calling. Gaining attention was.

If Christine had been forced to undergo this news conference for the new opera yesterday afternoon fresh off the plane, Christine would have already snapped by now. However, after a good ten hour sleep to get over the jet lag, the young soprano was ready to flirt with the cameras.

"Thank you, Miss Giudicelli," Christine said, almost amused, speaking delicately into the microphone. "Now, who would like to go first? Let's see… Opera News, New York Times, International Opera and New York Wired. A question each from all of you and we'll go from there, shall we?" The selected reporters all grinned at their luck of being able to ask first as they all glanced down at their note pads.

"What's your opinion on this new opera, Don Juan Triumphant, by the mysterious Mister Destler?"

Trust Opera News to open this period of the conference with a strong question.

Christine smiled at the opening question as she remembered her thoughts from yesterday about the music. "I believe that this production is opening a new door in opera, going beyond the respectable and pushing further into new depths. While the story may contain a classic Don Giovanni character, I feel as though Mister Destler introduces a very different feel within his libretto."

"Will you be making more of an appearance in New York during this visit, since the last few times you've only stayed in your apartment?"

"My apologies to the society columns and such, however I do plan on holding true to my habits from previous visits to this beautiful city. I plan on enjoying whatever I can of my month and a half stay in New York in the daytime." Christine responded to the New York Times reporter, as the rest of the media whispered to each other unhappily. "As a singer, I am determined to relax and sleep early during the evenings so that I am refreshed for every upcoming performance."

"Are you nervous about the opera opening in a week having only rehearsed once so far, and not even meeting your partnering tenor yesterday?"

"Well, every singer knows that he or she will be expected to know his or her individual part, and obviously be able to hold it as an individual during a performance. I actually feel as though this practice of using individual leads in a rehearsal is a good thing, because it only makes the rehearsal and overall performance stronger."

"The critics are worried that this opera will be breaking any set boundaries in the operatic community, any agreeing or disagreeing comments?"

"I have always held a fascination for Mister Destler's opera and other compositions. They always produce a strange beauty that entrances and almost seduces the main singers themselves on stage. He may break boundaries with his work, but it is my belief that boundaries are set to be broken." Christine responded passionately to the curious reporters.

"Does that, then, possibly mean that you may have developed a small crush on the composer, Miss Daae? You sound almost besotted!" An anonymous voice filled with richness resounded within the large foyer of the opera house. The media representatives hushed all at once, microphones ready and pens eager to catch and record the answer first.

Christine laughed as her cheeks flushed lightly, internally berating herself for making such a slip up, while trying to remember where she had heard such a musical voice before.

"I wouldn't say that I have a 'crush' for the composer per se, however I will admit to holding, shall we say, a certain fondness for the composer, even if I do not know Mister Destler personally." Christine said hesitantly while the reporters scribbled furiously to catch every word. "May I ask what publication this is for, please?" Christine squinted against the lights trying to locate a face to match the voice- a feat that Christine should have been able to do easily with her extensive training background.

The crowd of media representatives parted as a man dressed in black dress pants and an untucked white dress shirt stepped forward, presenting a short yet mocking bow. "Why of course. Erik Destler of Erik Destler Compositions." The white half mask that he wore may have been different, but the smirk was the same... The smirk that made his catlike golden eyes carry an even more mocking look.

Christine's face paled as photographers snapped countless photos of the no longer anonymous composer. The composer whose music Christine cherished the most. It was none other than the jerk that she not only owed a song, but a kiss!

Carlotta Giudicelli stared at the man before her. So this was the eccentric composer: Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome himself...

As Christine stood speechless, she watched as Erik made his way up to the podium. A wink in her direction from the masked menace caused Christine to almost flush in embarrassment. Almost.

"Mister Destler! Why so long in hiding?"

Mister Destler, who's the leading tenor?"

"Hey Mister Destler! Is there a Mrs. Destler?" The crowd looked amused at the final question as Erik released a soft chuckle.

"Thankfully, there is no Mrs. Destler, yet, otherwise I'm quite sure that all of my inspiration would have died off with the amount of time I'd have to spend... indisposed." A ripple of laughter erupted from the media as Christine rolled her eyes at the cocky behavior. "Well, gentlemen, and ladies, haven't you ever heard that anonymity creates more curiosity?"

"What do you have to say to Miss Daae's response to the earlier questions?" A reporter asked, curious about the eccentric composer's response.

"As for what this darling creature has said about my opera and my creations earlier on, I am very thankful that my opera is being performed by an, at least, intelligent soprano." Glaring, Christine was about to say something in response to his offensive quip when yet another reporter cut her off.

"And what about the tenor, Mister Destler? Or is he going to remain anonymous until the opening of the opera?"

"Unfortunately, yes he will remain anonymous. I know this man intimately, and I am extremely confident in his skills. He is the very epitome of Don Juan himself, however he does request privacy for the moment." Erik responded with an amused smile directed towards the lyric soprano.

Christine's heart sank as she realized that she would have no chance alone with the leading tenor. As Carlotta thanked the reporters for attending, Erik's voice broke the soprano away from her thoughts.

"So, Christine, we meet again. Shall we go off somewhere and perhaps discuss this certain fondness you have for little old moi?" The masked composer murmured tauntingly as he faced her, his eyes staring into her own hardening hazel eyes before flitting to stare at her lips. "Maybe we can even share the kiss that I have yet to claim from you."

Christine stared boldly into Erik's smoldering gaze as she hissed quietly, "If you ever try to kiss me, monsieur, you'll find your body on the other end of the room when I detach it from you head!"

Erik chuckled quietly as he left the foyer and headed backstage, his mind reeling of ways he could change the little hellcat's hisses into purrs of pleasure. Oh this opera will be such fun indeed...

Her job done, Carlotta stood next to Christine and let out a low whistle, saying, "Erik Destler may be cocky, Christine, but publicity for Don Juan would hardly be necessary if his face had been recognized beforehand. There would be women blocking all of the aisles just to see—and I'm pretty sure you know by now I'm not talking about the opera." With that, Carlotta made her way out of the almost empty foyer of the opera house, leaving Christine standing there alone as she pondered the older woman's words.