Author's notes The first 17 Chapters of this story are a rewrite of a Phantom of The Opera story I started to write in 2008, entitled Her Name Will Be Christine.

This is an AU Vader/ Padme story in a modern setting.

In this story Vader does not have a suit.

Vader strode quickly into the dimly lit Cabaret, Berlin, ignoring the curious glances of those surrounding him. He was a man on a mission, and he would not let a soul get in his way. He found a table in front with an excellent view of the stage. Normally, he would have chosen to sit in the back row of tables where he could easily hide himself. However, these were not normal times. The whole world seemed to have turned upside down. He hated being seen, but at this moment he wanted to and needed to be seen. He was fully aware of his overpowering presence that was made to appear even more intimidating by his newly pressed SS uniform. His whole life he had been laughed at, and ridiculed, He had never been accepted into a group before, but suddenly that was changing.

Vader didn't want to be here. He came to this cabaret tonight for one purpose-to see her, the angel . He had seen and followed her for months now.

Thoughts of her beauty ran through Vader's head as he was subjected to one off-key individual after another. He let out a disgusted grunt wondering how much more of this noise masquerading as music he could stand, when suddenly he saw the vision he had been waiting for. Wearing a modest, dark black long-sleeved dress with a high neckline she walked timidly onto the stage. All was silent as she got her small body into the singer's position.

Vader found himself almost entering a trance state. The music that escaped her beautiful mouth and floated to his ears was heavenly. It made up for all of the horrid sounds he had ever been exposed to. He smiled, seeing how the applause that erupted from the audience made her blush. She gave a quick nod as if communicating to someone standing nearby. Without bowing she ran off the stage, her dark brown curls bouncing behind her.

"Need anything?" Vader turned his attention away from the stage to the right side of his table where a woman was standing. She was tall, and wearing too much make-up, there was a sedative gleam in her bright blue eyes. He looked away and gave a heavy sigh in disgust. The red thing she must have called a dress came down just above her knee, and clung to her body, leaving almost nothing to a man's imagination. "Leave me," he ordered.

"I'm good company," she said, now reaching to stroke his face.

"I said leave me!" Vader roared. Her hand came down.

"Fine," she answered bitterly and walked away. The moment she left, Vader saw his reason for being here. He followed her with his eyes to the corner and watched as she stopped to speak to an older woman. He presumed the older woman was his angel's friend by the way the 2 of them smiled at each other. He could not hear what they said.

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"Padme , you were amazing, but I never saw someone run off stage that fast!"

"MIna, you know how I feel about being on stage."

"I know, but you're so talented."

"What do you want?"

"Nothing," Mina said innocently. Padme raised her perfectly shaped eyebrows in suspicion, prompting her friend to speak. "See him over there? He roars at every girl who comes near him. Can you take his order and serve him?"

Padme looked at where her friend was pointing and quickly turned back.

"Mina," she whispered. "He's a Nazi. Why can't you serve him? You're the better choice."

"I think he likes you, he was staring at you the whole time you were on stage."

"Oh, how comforting ,I have a friend in the Gestapo!"

"Padme," Mina, said

"Alright, I'm going. If anything happens to me it's on your head," Padme said., slowly walking over to the table. She could feel her stomach turn and twist into a thousand knots. What language should I speak to him in? She thought to herself. She was a fluent speaker of many languages. "Good evening, sir, what would you like?" She asked, deciding to speak in German. She stared down at the floor afraid to meet his eyes. Vader had almost forgotten her speaking voice was equally as exquisite as her singing voice.

What would I like? He thought to himself, a mischievous grin slowly making its way to his lips. "I would like you to speak to me." He said, choosing to speak German, because of their location, Vader was fluent in many languages.

"What do you wish to talk about?" She asked, timidly. After a few more seconds passed, the young woman raised her head and finally his blue eyes and her brown ones met. The expression that appeared on her flawless features seemed to change from one second to the next, going from surprise at his reaction to her, to suspicion and back again. Finally, after what seemed like forever, her face settled on one emotion, surprise, and she smiled nervously.

It was then that he allowed himself to speak to her again. "You were magnificent on stage tonight," he said, his voice soft.

"Thank… thank you," she managed to say, there was a long silence between them which was broken by the still unanswered question. "Um… what would you like?"

Vader unnecessarily cleared his throat, anything to keep this angel standing before him a little longer.

Wait, what am I doing? He thought to himself. I have never had this kind of reaction to a woman before. There was something about her that went far beyond her physical beauty and her heavenly voice, but what was it? Whatever it was he was sure no other woman had it as she did.

"I will have a glass of your finest red wine," Vader said. His heart quickened as he watched her turn and walk away towards the back of the Cabaret. She will be back, he told himself. Five minutes turned into ten, and ten into fifteen. How long did it take to get a glass of wine? Suddenly his ears perked up at the sound of a door opening. He turned to see her, but she did not see him. She was far too distracted and tears were running down her flushed cheeks as she ran outside as fast as her tiny feet could carry her. He followed. "Wait!" he said. She did not respond to his command.

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Padme ran for what seemed like hours, slowing down only to look behind her periodically. If she were the kind of girl to swear she would; she was being followed. She was relieved when through her tears she saw the house she shared with her mother, father, and sister come into view. It was only steps away. Could she make it? Her feet felt as if they were about to fall off. She said a silent prayer as she hurried up the steps leading to her front door, and quietly entered, careful not to wake anyone. She tiptoed to her bedroom and kicked off her black shoes and then stripped herself of her dress. She looked down at herself to find she was shaking like a leaf in the wind, not from cold but from pure terror. What was she going to do now? She hated that place; it made her feel so dirty. "Girls like you don't work in places like that," her mother would say, "girls like you don't even go near places like that." But she needed that money. The truth was she, and her family would never survive without it. She had her doubts they would even survive the night. Padme now walked to her cherry wood dresser, took out a long pink rose-colored nightgown, and pulled it over her head.

She touched her face, still feeling the sting of Emerson's hand as it made an impact. Her face was hot and she quickly moved her hand and saw the red marks he had left across her skin. She hoped they would be gone by tomorrow. How would she explain them to her family? How could Emerson do this to her?

Padme stumbled into bed, still shaking, and prayed first out loud, and then silently.