A/N: I am sorry for the wait! I didn't know how to write this chapter... and I'm afraid it moved terribly quickly :/ but it definitely set the stage. I hope you tell me what you thought :) And thanks to my beta nibblesfan for all her help!

{Rose Diamund}

Eternally Yours

8. Confrontations

Meg watched her, hatred glittering in her bright blue eyes. Christine stood onstage, wearing that beautiful white costume and singing her song, the sweetness of her voice filling the large room, and echoing again and again in Meg's mind. Christine looked so beautiful, the elegant diamond earrings shaking ever so slightly as she sang. Her hair was done expertly, in a sort of loose braid, and her hair tumbled down her back in one piece.

Even after the song had finished, and the wave of applause came, Meg could hear Christine's singing, vibrating through her mind. Mocking her. Meg's eyes burned as she saw Christine curtsy, bouquets of flowers being tossed up onto the stage. She bit her lip, as to not show her grimace.

Her mother, Marie, put her hand on Meg's shoulder, beaming, "Wasn't that just lovely? Christine has learned so much. She came here a as chorus girl, and now look at her - look at how they adore her."

"It's wonderful." Meg said through gritted teeth, mustering a smile. Christine did not deserve such praise. She did not deserve her beauty, her talent. She deserved to be condemned to suffer the way Meg suffered - the way Erik suffered. But no. She was standing in the spotlight, being cheered on and smiling.

Smiling!

Christine turned and went offstage, though the applause continued even after her departure. When she was out of sight, her smile vanished, and she forced back tears. She couldn't have been here tonight if it weren't for Erik - her Angel. And how had she repaid him?

Christine rushed past all the smiling stage workers and ran straight to the chapel, down the wooden steps. She reached the bottom of the steps, and collapsed just before her father's painting in a heap of sobs. She could hardly breathe, and her whole body shook violently.

She sucked in a breath, gasping, and sat up, wiping tears from her eyes. She stared into the eyes of her father, and he stared back, unblinking. "C-can you f-forgive me?" She cried, her words only barely choking out between sobs, "I-I-I have betrayed you, betrayed my A-Angel..."

"Christine?" The sweet voice of Meg echoed through the chapel.

Christine wiped tears from her eyes, and closed her eyes, finally beginning to breathe evenly.

Meg appeared in the doorway. She smiled sweetly, "You were simply lovely tonight - Christine? What's wrong?" Meg sat next to Christine, plastering a concerned look to her face.

Christine shook her head, "N-nothing. I am fine."

"Then why are you crying?" Meg put her hand on Christine's shoulder, although inside she wanted to recoil in disgust at the sight. How dare Christine cry over Erik? How dare she act as though she regretted what she had done?

"I... oh, Meg. I've made a terrible mistake. I-I don't think... I can ever forgive myself."

Good "Oh, dear. Christine, what's happened?"

Christine closed her eyes, blocking a few tears from falling down her cheeks. "I… There is this – "

"Erik." Meg said, her voice suddenly going cold. Why should she have to pretend? Wasn't it best Christine knew everything?

Christine looked up at Meg, wide-eyed, "You mean, you – "

"Yes, Christine. I know all about Erik – I've known the man since I was a child!" Meg exclaimed. She focused her gaze back on Christine, "And you destroyed him, Christine. I saw what you did."

Christine could hardly speak. Why hadn't Meg said something? All these years? "I… You have to believe me… I didn't – "

"Do I?" Meg challenged, her eyes burning. "Erik is a good man. He never deserved the hatred he received. But you do. Do you have any idea how much grief you've caused? Erik's gone, Christine! He's disappeared!"

This only made Christine cry harder, "I'm sorry." She whispered. It was all she could say. All she could think.

"You never deserved to have him as your 'Angel of Music'." Meg snarled. "You haven't any idea who he is, do you? You don't know anything of what people with ignorance like yours have done to him."

Christine's mind was whirling. "Meg…"

"Save your breath," Meg snarled.

Anger overtook Christine, "You have no right to say these things! Where were you for Erik? Why do you think he has never mentioned you, Meg? Why do you think that is?!"

Meg grimaced, "You are more ignorant than I believed. You know nothing of what I've done for Erik. All that I've put on the line for him," It almost seemed that she was not speaking to Christine now. Her eyes were turned downward to the ground, and now they were blank, soulless, almost lifeless. "All that I've sacrificed for him…"

Christine stared at Meg in wonder with her tear-stained eyes, slowly, hesitantly, rested her hand upon Meg's shoulder, "Meg, please…"

Meg jerked away, anger flaming in her eyes, "Don't dare to touch me," she seethed, pivoting on her heels and running from the chapel, leaving Christine to her tortured silence and tears.

Erik watched Christine from above her in the chapel, staring down at her with burning eyes. The sight of her made his skin crawl, as she wept tears for him, begging his forgiveness. But all forgiveness had been taken from him, the moment that she had taken the mask from his face. The moment she betrayed him.

But the she spoke, her voice a tormented and terrified whisper, "Angel? Angel, is that you? Are you there?"

Damn. Erik cursed himself; he must have made a sound. He hardly dared to take a breath as he stared down at Christine's face.

"Angel, please, I know you are there." Christine looked about the room frantically, searching for any sign of her Angel. "Erik. Please." All she needed was to hear his voice, meet his eyes. Just to set eyes upon him, was all she craved.

Erik's heart almost stopped beating, and his eyes closed in spite of himself. Hearing his name pass her lips, like a whisper. He knew he would never escape from her, in that moment. He was her Angel… Erik's eyes snapped open.

No.

"Your Angel is dead," he spoke spitefully, his voice edged with pain. A haunting grin came upon his face, and his eyes glittered with malice, "but the Phantom is very much alive."

It was the following evening. All the preparations for the performance were ready, and the stage workers buzzed about, getting ready for the performance which would begin shortly. Christine stared at her tear-stained face in the mirror, splashing some cold water into her eyes. She closed her eyes and took many deep breaths, feeling sobs catch in her throat.

After a moment, she exited the privy chamber and ran directly into Raoul. She gave a small smile, "Forgive me, Raoul. I did not see you."

"That is perfectly all right, Christine," Raoul's expression changed, he looked concerned, "My dear, have you been crying?"

Christine shook her head in objection, "No, I am just nervous."

"You needn't be," Raoul smiled warmly, "You were wonderful last night. And you shall be tonight as well."

"Carlotta has returned," Christine corrected him, "She shall have the solo this evening. I will merely be in the chorus."

"That is an outrage," Raoul frowned, "Carlotta is not able to sing half as well as you."

Christine tried to finish the conversation, "She is the Prima Donna. If you will please excuse me, I must get onto stage soon. The performance will start in a few moments."

Raoul stepped out of her way, "Of course. Good luck tonight."

"Thank you," Christine said breathlessly as she passed him and walked toward the backstage. The chorus girls were hurriedly gathering onstage, just as the overture began, and the curtain separated. Christine saw out of the corner of her eye that Meg looked at her, and when she turned her head, Meg gave her one reproachful glance before turning toward the audience.

The chorus girls began dancing, gliding across the floors. Christine tried to keep her focus upon the dance, but her thoughts kept turning to Erik. His words rang clearly in her mind: the Phantom is very much alive.

What did that mean? What would he do? What was Erik truly capable of? Christine tried to shake the thoughts away, turning her focus back to the audience.

The music sped up, and grew louder and louder by the moment, infiltrating Christine ears and ringing in her mind, echoing again and again. The haunting music played on, and Christine spun around with the rest of the chorus girl, the melody beating against her ears with so much force she felt as though she would faint. Her heart began to pound; something was wrong. Something…

Christine glanced upward for a moment, just a moment, and then she saw it – what it was, she knew not until moments later. Something above them, was moving. A black, hooded figure moved across the upper stage level like a snake in the grass, smoothly without being seen. But Christine saw. Christine saw all too clearly.

Before she even had the chance to cry out, something fell down from the ceiling. Christine felt a scream escape her throat, but her vision blurred and blotted. Then she saw. It was the stagehand, Joseph Boquet. Hanging from a large, long rope. His lifeless body hung just above stage, in clear view of everybody.

Screams and cries filled the large room, but all Christine could do was stare at the hanging man.

Then, a voice came from everywhere and nowhere, laughing wildly. A cold, deep laugh, filled with hatred. Then he spoke, and it was undeniable. It was Erik's voice, vibrating off of the walls and into Christine's minds, "I warned you. Blood will run thicker than water, should my instructions be ignored further."

Christine's mind whirled. But she knew, deep inside, how right he was. Her Angel of Music was gone.

The Phantom of the Opera was here to stay.