Antoinette thought that she'd successfully gotten rid of the vicomte after Christine's return, but the man proved to be too persistent for his own good. He'd shown up to the show tonight, a week from that day. There wasn't too much that she could do.

Aside from him being a rather important person, he and Christine were engaged. Even if the girl wasn't happy with him about recent events, it wasn't as if she could go back on her word. Christine should be more than aware of this. She didn't belong to herself anymore and Erik couldn't claim her anymore, either. Though she doubted that it would stop the man from trying.

All he would be doing is welcoming even more pain into his life as Christine's heart was no longer hers to freely give. She couldn't interfere, that much she knew for sure. Anything she tried to tell Erik would just anger the man and the poor girl probably didn't even know how she felt.

Not really, if anything, Christine just knew that she cared about her angel- even if her angel turned out to be a man instead. She braced herself to deal with the mess that this situation would inevitably become.

Christine stepped off of stage, though the feeling of happiness dissipated slightly when Madame Giry was nowhere to be seen. At least if she was receiving her normal roses, she'd have a way to know that Erik didn't hate her completely. They'd both made mistakes, but she cared about the man.

She wanted to be his friend, if nothing else. He seemed like he could use one. No one deserved to be that isolated. She knew what it was like to be lonely- perhaps not on the same level, but she understood how crushing it could be sometimes.

She headed towards her dressing room, biting his lower lip as she tried to ignore the sudden spark of hope. Perhaps Erik had left it there? It was possible, seeing as he did have access to that particular room. Maybe hoping that was the case wasn't logical, but she didn't care about logic right now.

She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't notice the familiar form standing near her dressing room until she collided with them. A squeaky gasp left her lips as she stumbled back, a hand resting on her hip to help steady her.

"Raoul.." Christine breathed, her anger returning. She'd thought he was going to let her come to him? Not force his presence on her when she wasn't ready for it. There was a small part of her that was simply disappointed that he wasn't Erik. But she ignored that part as much as she could.

"Christine.. I know you're angry at me. However, I cannot allow you to continue being childish about this. I did what was best for you." Raoul informed immediately, not giving her a moment to speak.

She gaped at him, lips parted in annoyance. She couldn't form actual words, unfortunately. She floundered for them, but they wouldn't come to her. She was just that irritated with her fiance. This wasn't the man she agreed to marry. At least...she hadn't thought he was like this at the the time. He'd never spoken to her in such a manner before.

Raoul grasped her hand and tugged her down the corridor, not even letting her change into something more appropriate for the outside world. She tried to pull back, but he was obviously a bit stronger than her.

"Don't be stubborn, Christine. We can stop somewhere and find you another dress before we go to dinner. Perhaps you can wear something that one of my sisters used to fit into." He mused, giving her body a small up and down glance. She simply clenched her jaw, refusing to even entertain him with a response.

Erik had waited behind Christine's mirror for quite a bit, despite noting that she wasn't there. When this became wearying for him, he had ventured out carefully. She wasn't near the stage and she wasn't with either Giry. It was angering at first but then it hit him. She was with the damned Vicomte. The boy that had the gull to not only stab him but to interrupt the moment as well.

But what else did he really expect from her? She'd chosen him before. She'd accepted his proposal. Any assumptions that she might've changed her mind had been his own fault because he'd allowed himself to foolishly hope. Well, no more.

He was almost tempted to write a note for her. Something intended to drive her away completely. To make her leave this place and be with her darling lover. But he couldn't bring himself to do so.

As much as it would pain him to see her, knowing that she would never be his...he couldn't give that ability up. She would leave as soon as they married, he knew this. She was just as much of a fool of she thought she'd be permitted to continue singing after marrying up.

So he wanted to savor the moments before this happened. Perhaps he was more masochistic than one would really think. Her talent would go to waste- something that he thought she'd be against. Perhaps she didn't appreciate the music, his music as much as he thought she did.

Nevertheless...none of this meant that he'd be sitting idly by. No. His opera would be put out there. She would be the star and he would refine that voice fully. Even if only for one night before she let it rust and become useless.

Perhaps he'd even put his feelings out there plainly. He couldn't afford to hope. Any more false hope would kill him, he knew that much. But it would be quite the way to go out. Another silver lining was that he'd finally be out of his misery. That was a good thing for every one.

He didn't have to suffer, Christine wouldn't have to struggle with misplaced pity and the managers would finally be free to run this place into the ground.