Hello all,

Well, my apologies for the couple of days delay, however I needed to figure out where I wanted this chapter to end and the next one to begin. This one's a tad shorter than the previous chapter, however, I hope that all of you will enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it. I wanted to add a little bit more character to our main eventual couple here, so this is some fluff and some story progression.

Some exciting news on the home front (on a rather personal level): I'll be in New York this coming summer for an internship in exactly one month from today. I'm so excited! Hopefully by then, I'll be way more into the plot. I've got some different ideas I want to play around with, but of course it's up to Christine and Erik to see what route they want me to take, yeah?

Anyway I just wanted to give a little shout out to my boyfriend, le Canadian, for beta-ing all of my chapters so far- he's been there through some of my odd writing phases. Also, a thank you to everyone who has added this story to their alerts, and to those who have reviewed so far. I remain your humble servant. Now, on for the chapter.

Ever yours,

Soprano in Shadow


Shaking her head in annoyance, Christine made her way to the front stage where Erik Destler, or as she liked to call him "the masked menace," was making notes onto his copy of the score as he conferred with both the stage director and conductor.

"Now, Christine Daae has several costume changes – might I add, rivaling the amount of costume changes for the lead soprano in Massenet's Manon. Since her main singing roles do not really occur until after the first duet with Don Juan, Miss Daae can change in her dressing room with the help of the seamstress, since there are also quite a few scenery changes as well. Her changing in the wings will just get in the way," Mr. Destler said as he began marking these specific moments in blue.

At the sound of a foot tapping and a huff of annoyance, Erik looked up, spotting Christine. "Ah, the diva has decided to grace us with her presence after all. Have your measurements been taken already?"

"Yes – yesterday," Christine said, glaring at the rude composer. Cocking an eyebrow in reply to her short response, Erik looked once more at the score.

"Alright, well then let's take it to the chorus' small bit right before the love duet, and see what messes I have to clear up," Erik said cynically as he flipped through the score once more. Glancing up from his score at the lack of movement surrounding him, he scowled. "That was not a request; that was an order. Positions, everyone, now!" At the sound of his thundering voice, the singers quickly got into place, worried that they would cause this eccentric masked man to yell once more.

As the chorus began to run through their section, Christine scrutinized the masked figure that was watching from within the house of the theatre. The cocky man from the day before was gone. In front of her eyes sat a quiet and calculating man who had created, well, all of this. How could he have created all of this passion, when he himself seemed to be devoid of it?

Silence broke the young singer from her thoughts as she glanced around, noticing that everyone was staring at her. Confused, Christine took in the empty stage and then realized what was wrong: she had missed her cue entirely!

"Miss Daae, if you wouldn't mind actually doing your job and singing, then we can all move forward and get this rehearsal over with!" Erik hollered as he walked briskly down the main aisle in the house towards the stage.

Flushing angrily, Christine muttered a quiet apology as Erik ruffled his hair in frustration and barked at the chorus to begin again. This time Christine paid attention and came in at the right moment as she began the recitative. As the first section of the duet began, Christine imagined a handsome young man singing the opening to her gently, yet passionately, and she smiled in happiness at the image before her.

"You have brought me to that moment when words run dry. To that moment when speech disappears into—"

"Silence! Instruments down. Let's start at the beginning of the refrain." Erik thundered, as he leaped onto the stage with feline grace and strode toward the lyric soprano. "Miss Daae, a word, please, before you begin again."

Swallowing, Christine followed the composer to the wings of stage right as Monsieur Reyers shushed the complaining orchestra members. Erik stared at her for a moment before asking her a question that made Christine wish she had never agreed to partake in this opera.

"Are you trying to make me the laughing stock of our world?" Erik asked quietly, searching her eyes for a clear answer. She stood there dumbstruck as she pondered his words. She wasn't trying to ruin his opera, why would he even think that?

"Why would I want to do that? That would place me in the same position as you," Christine hissed, her eyes flashing with anger. "I would never give less than the hundred percent that I have… even if the composer happens to be a complete jerk."

"Then sing like you mean it! This isn't a little petty bicker between school children, Christine! This is my life's work! This opera is all that I am. Do you know how long it's taken for me to have the courage for this opera to be performed? This is everything to me. I'm not going to allow a below par actress to ruin this."

If looks could kill, both Erik and Christine would have been dead with the fury in the other's eyes.

"What would you like me to do? What ever could I do to improve my skills for your opera, Mister Destler?" Christine asked sarcastically, as she spat his name out with venom.

"I want you to pretend that someone is on stage with you; as though someone was singing this to you and holding you during the refrain as passionately as both the music and words are."

"Well, I'd at least need a body to stand there, so that I would have someone actually holding me," Christine said flippantly, trying to quell the feelings of confusion inside.

Erik regarded her before saying solemnly, "Fine. I'll be your body. You sing it, and I'll walk through the tenor's blocking."

Taking a breath, Christine nodded, and the pair of them headed back out onto the stage.

"Monsieur Reyers, if we can take it from the beginning of the duet's B section, please? We don't need the recitative," Erik called out to the conductor, who nodded in response and began to lead the orchestra in.

As he found his place right behind her, his parting gift rocked her to the core, as he murmured, "Now, this time feel it in the depths of your entire being—that is where your true potential will lie."

Swallowing, Christine nodded as the music for the refrain began to build up. Instantly following through the blocking, she became more aware of what the words really held in meaning, as Erik whispered them in time to her.

Her cue approached, and as she began to sing her verse once again, Christine felt a tremor run through her body as his hand made contact with her waist.

"You have brought me to that moment when words run dry. To that moment when speech disappears into silence, silence." Turning to look the man behind her in the eye, she walked backward a step.

"I have come here, hardly knowing the reason why. In my mind I've already imagined our bodies entwining, defenseless and silent." She turned to look away, toward the empty audience as she took a step downstage.

"Now I am here with you. No second thoughts, I've decided." He followed behind her at those words, placing both of his hands on either side of her hips, as she leaned back into him. "Decided."

Something clicked within her as she continued on with her solo of the refrain and followed through the blocking, suddenly feeling invigorated. Now all of this blocking made sense. It was a seduction. But why? Why would Don Juan need to seduce the village girl Amnita? If she loved him as much as she sang about it in the first act, what was the point?

As she neared the top of the stairs that would lead to the scaffolding, Christine made eye contact with Erik, and as he began to speak the words powerfully, she sang along with him. "Past the point of no return, the final threshold."

As they met at the middle and held onto each other, their eyes burned once more, but this time from the passion of the music. "The bridge is crossed so stand and watch it burn." He swung her round in front, as she laid her head against his shoulder, her body facing the seats down below. "We've passed the point of no return." As the music began to fade away, Christine turned her face and looked at him, and a passing thought on his good looks – despite his temper – left as soon as it had arrived.

A few moments passed, and Erik stepped away clearing his throat, a faint blush warming his neck. "Better. Much better. But still not enough." Christine huffed, all thoughts of his attractiveness out of her mind.

"You think you could do it better? Fine, go ahead," Christine said, walking toward the stairs that would lead her down the scaffold. Erik followed her down, but instead of moving downstage where the chorus members were filling the front few rows, he stayed down center, poised.

With a nod to Monsieur Reyers, the conductor started the orchestra once more at the same spot, and Christine turned around at the sound of the music. "What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?" She asked, confused at the activity surrounding her.

Erik smirked and said, "Well, you did tell me to go ahead," before starting her verse of the duet... in falsetto.

As Christine watched on dumbfounded, Erik went through her staging, except at the same time, he didn't. He was fluid, and he acted as though his skin was burning with passion for… well, Don Juan. He was everything that she wanted to be, unleashed, except she couldn't be. Otherwise her heart would get broken once again.

"And that, Miss Daae, is how it's done," Erik announced, still standing on the scaffold.

Christine peered up at him and grinned. "I have to say, Mister Destler, there's one good perk about you standing way up there."

Erik frowned. This was not how this conversation was supposed to go. She was supposed to apologize, and admit that she needed to work more on her character. "And what would that be, Miss Daae?"

Christine smirked. "It means that by the time you get down here, I'll have already left. Have a nice evening, everyone!" Christine said happily, as she skipped out of the theatre, knowing that she left behind a fuming composer.

Christine- 2, Erik- 3. Slowly, but surely, she was catching up.