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Christine was eighteen when a masquerade was announced to celebrate the beginning of a new season. Now that she was part of the chorus and not just a ballerina, she was expected to attend—that and now she was considered an adult by all accounts. She looked at the invitation sitting by the mirror of her vanity. She had a frown across her beautiful face. She opened one of the drawers of her vanity, where an ornate wooden box rested. It had images of Swedish fairy tales painted on the top of it. The paint was fading and chipped in some places. The lid had a golden rose used to open the box. It had belonged to her mother and maybe even her grandmother on her mother's side. She lifted the lid, there rested her parents' wedding rings. She picked them up with a sad smile and a faded black and white picture of them outside the opera house in Sweden. She placed the rings back in the box, getting out her money from it. She started to count the francs she had. She had ten thousand francs. She had planned to use that money to fix and restring her father's violin. She knew the masquerade would cost her a lot of her savings. She turned and looked over to her bed. Under her bed, rested her father's violin case. She let out a sigh. She rested her head in her hands.

"What is it, Mon Petit?" Erik asked.

"Nothing Mon Ange. Angels don't have to worry about paying for things. Monsieur Lefevre has planned a masquerade ball. I am required to attend. I had plans for the money, this masquerade will cost me is all," Christine explained.

"What plans, mon petit?" Erik asked, intrigued.

"My Papa Violin, I planned to have the bow restrung and make sure it was all in working order," Christine told him.

"You play," Erik asked.

"No, but thought maybe one day a child of mine might. I want it not to be such a state of disrepair that it would cost more than it is worth to restore it. I figured if I care for it now, like it being played there, there will not be any disrepair," Christine answered.

The image of a child version of Christine with his golden eyes flashed in his mind. They no doubt would have their musical talents. Erik shook his head, knowing that was neither the time nor the place for those thoughts.
"I could restore it for you, my dear," Erik said.

"You would do that for me, Angel," Christine asked.

"There isn't anything I would not do for you, Christine," Erik told her.

Christine smiled and blushed at that statement. Knowing not how true those words would prove. He would kill to protect her and, in truth, kill to her by his side if only for a time. She walked over to her bed, bending down to get her father's violin case. She placed it on the bed. Erik suppressed a groan as she bent down. The childlike roundness to her face had faded as she aged. She now stood five feet six inches tall. Her legs were long and shapely. Her waist was small, her breasts had grown from buds to fill out a good deal. With her auburn waves and loose curls falling around her slender yet womanly frame. Made her look more like a woman than the eighteen-year-old child she was. She was dressed in a pale pink Victorian day dress. She had a nervous smile on her beautiful face. Truly, she was more nervous now than she was when she tried out for the chorus.

"Thank you, Angel," Christine said, licking her full bottom lip.

"You are nervous about something else, mon petit. What is it?" Erik asked, picking up on her nervous tick.

"I know that this masquerade is a way for me to meet the patrons of the Opera House," Christine started. She walked back to her vanity, looking up at the ceiling as she moved gracefully around her room. She sank back down into the chair, letting out a sigh as she did so. "The older chorus girls talk about how handsome and flirtatious the men are. I am expected to dance with them and flirt back. But you see, I have not the faintest clue how to do either of those things. I know how to dance ballet, but that's not ballroom dancing," Christine explained.

"Oh, mon petit," Erik said

He did not believe that she did not know how to capture men's attention. For she captured his attention without trying. But there was something in blue-green eyes that told him. He was trying to come up with something to soothe her when he heard something that stopped his mind in its tracks.

"Angel, if only you were flesh," Christine whispered.

Erik's mind finally started to work again. He was a patron of this opera house. Just like Nadir was. It was where a great deal of his twenty thousand francs a month went. He was invited to this event. He had no intention of attending it. But those six simple words, all those plans, had changed. He was already coming up with a costume for it.

"Christine, are you ready?" Meg voiced called, knocking on the door.

"I will see you at your music lesson. You must tell me what costume you have chosen," Erik told her softly, so only she could hear it.

Christine closed her eyes and almost shuddered at that effect he had on her. She had goosebumps as his breath almost touched her neck. The knock came again. It shook Christine from her thoughts.

"Coming," Christine called as she put her money into her bag.

Meg opened the door with Sorelli by her side. Meg was dressed in a sky-blue Victorian dress with a matching hat pinned on top of her perfectly styled light blonde hair. While Sorelli was dressed in a light green Victorian dress. Her dark blonde hair was styled perfectly, also with a matching hat. Sorelli rushed over to Christine, taking her arm.

"Chris, ready to have a bit of fun in the city?" Sorelli asked.

"As I will be," Christine said, trying to look over her shoulder.

Meg took Christine's other arm. They both had huge smiles on their faces. They led her out of her room. They were heading out into the city.

"Yeah, a bit of fun will do you some good, Christine. I swear, all you do is go to rehearsals and practice. You don't go out like other girls. You need to get a life," Meg laughed.

"Meg, music is my life. It has been my life since I was a child," Christine tried to reason.

Once they were gone, Erik opened the mirror. He walked into her room. The scent of roses mixed with oranges and sweets filled the room. He walked over to her bed. He took the black case in his hands like it was something holy.


The costume shop was the first place they went. They needed to decide what they were going to be for this masquerade. Meg and Sorelli ran through the rich fabrics and rows and rows of dresses. Christine felt out of place. She walked over to the case where masks were on display. She was looking at each one, taking in every detail. Her eyes were drawn to the simple design of white feathers with no embellishments. It would cover part of her forehead down to the tip of her nose and cheekbones.

"That one is beautiful," Sylvie said. Christine looked up with a smile on her face. She would recognize that voice anywhere. Sylvie's eyes went wide at the sight before her. She knew this customer. She came around the counter, hugging Christine. Sylvie was heavily pregnant. "Look at you, you've grown into a beautiful young woman. What brings you to our shop?"

"I am required to go to the Opera House Masquerade," Christine told her.

"Still a ballerina," Sylvie asked.

"No, I am a chorus girl now. When they don't have a part for me, I still dance ballet," Christine told her. Sylvie led back to the display case. She took the mask from the case. She handed it to Christine. She put it up to her face. It fits her face like a glove. "And is this your and Charles' first child?" Christine asked, handing the mask back.

"Our second, we have a little girl named Christine," Sylvie told her. Christine looked at her in shock. Sylvie looked at Christine, then back at the mask. It seemed like it was made for her. "You know, I have the perfect costume to go with this mask. Come with me. Chloe watched the front," Sylvie called, motioning for Christine to follow her, taking the mask with her.


Erik was in his workshop. He had the violin case on the worktable. Ayesha looked at him oddly. He looked almost afraid to open it. He did so finally, after realizing he could not fit it if he had never opened it. He looked at what looked like a perfectly working violin. It had a golden yellow varnish on it. He took the violin out of its case. That was when he noticed the initials carved into the scroll of the violin. One side of the scroll was G, which was no doubt Gustave. On the other side was A, but he had no clue who A was for. He looked at the bow of the violin then. It was also still perfect. He brought the violin up to under his chin. He started to play his music on it. The other needed adjusting because it was slightly out of tune it was perfect. He could not believe Christine would waste her money taking it to a violin shop. He was lost in his music. When he heard clapping. Erik looked up, seeing Nadir standing in his workshop. Erik turned, placing the violin back into its case.

"What can I do for you, my friend?" Erik asked.

"I wanted to inform you about the Masquerade ball held for the public and patrons of the Opera House. You have been formally invited, Monsieur Erik Destler. Shall I reply that you will not be attending as usual?" Nadir asked as he came over to his friend.

"No," Erik replied.

"No?" Nadir questioned.

"I am going," Erik told him.

Nadir gave Erik a look. Erik simply took the invitation from his hands and walked back over to his worktable. Nadir looked at him like he had three heads. He had never once willingly gone to one of these events. He took a piece of paper and started to draw a costume like nothing had happened. Nadir moved closer. He noticed the violin in the case was Gustave Daae's. He would recognize it anywhere.

"Allah," Nadir muttered. Erik closed the case when he noticed Nadir close to him. Nadir looked at the drawing. It looked like one of his normal suits with black feathers on the shoulders. What was disturbing and somewhat interesting was the mask he had drawn. It looked like a raven skull. "How did you come by Gustave Daae Violin?" Nadir asked.

"Christine asked me to restore it," Erik answered.

"You or her Angel of Music," Nadir asked point-blank.

"We are one and the same, so what does it matter?" Erik answered, looking Nadir dead in the eyes.

"You have to tell her. She is no longer a little girl, Erik. She is a woman with desires and needs. Having her committed to an imaginary figure will not win her to you. You would have a better chance if you just told her the truth," Nadir tried to explain.

"Oh yes, like a woman as breathtakingly beautiful as her would want anything to do with a horribly disfigured monster," Erik said

Nadir looked at Erik as he placed his hand over his mask. He shook his head as Erik hunched into himself. Suddenly, Erik got up and stormed away into his music room. The next thing he heard was loud, anger-filled organ playing. Nadir just shook his head. He walked until he was outside the door of the music room.

"You don't know that, Erik," Nadir muttered.


Christine was brought into the back room of the shop. There on the dress form was a beautiful, breathtaking, dove white, partially finished gown. Around the neck of the dress form was a silk ribbon that tied what looked like a white feather cloak. It also had ties to go around the wrists. To make it look like wings. Sylvie brought over a collar piece, placing it onto the dress form. It had feathers forming what looked like a turtleneck, hiding the silk ribbon of the cloak. The bodice of the gown was covered in white feathers, the top of it was a sweetheart neckline with the collar piece, which attached to white satin sleeves of the gown. It formed a keyhole opening that was much more revealing than anything Christine had ever worn. The bodice flowed down and fanned out at the hips with larger white feathers. The skirt of the gown was made of a mix of white and silver tulle. It gave it a weightless yet full effect. The only thing that needed to be completed was the hem of the gown.

"It is meant to be an angel costume, but Charles doesn't believe it looks like an angel. What do you think?" Sylvie asked.

"I feel the feathers make it look more like a dove," Christine said.

"Then it is a dove," Sylvie laughed.

Sylvie motioned for Christine to try it on. It fitted like a glove. It was like the gown was made for her and her alone. Sylvie tied the mask on Christine's face. She placed a feather cuff on Christine's wrist, hiding the ribbons that held the cloak. Sylvie helped her onto a pedestal so she could mark the hem of the gown. When she was done pinning the hem, Sylvie uncovered the mirror in the back room. Christine's blue-green went wide at the sight of herself. She smiled and turned left, then right. Taking herself in, it was everything she had hoped for. It was both understated and still beautiful. There was no need for gems on the bodice.

"How much?" Christine asked.

"Normally, a gown like this would cost about seven thousand francs, but for you, five thousand," Sylvie told her.

"Sylvie, I cannot," Christine said.

"You can and you will. Charles will agree with me. I will have it delivered to the Opera House before the masquerade. You will take the mask with you today," Sylvie told her.

Christine looked at herself in the mirror again. She hoped this would capture her angel's attention. For he was the man, real or imaginary, attention she wanted. She could not imagine herself wearing another gown.


Meg and Sorelli did not notice that Christine was not with them. It was not until they came back up to the front of the store that they found her. She was talking with Sylvie. She handed over money, and Sylvie handed her a box with a mask in it.

"The gown will be delivered to the Opera House by no later than Monday. Ms. Daae," Sylvie told her.

"Thank you," Christine said. She turned and looked at her friends. Meg and Sorelli wore a shocked look on their faces. Christine was normally the last one to spend money. Meg had a pretty orange and black dress with a mask that was covered in butterflies and gems. While Sorelli had a deep teal gown that had peacock feathers on it. The mask was encrusted with gems and golden with a peacock feathers on one side. "Did you find a costume?" Christine asked.

"Yes, I am going to be a butterfly," Meg said.

"Yes, and I a peacock, what about you, Chris?" Sorelli asked.

"A dove," Christine said.

"Come, let's take our packages back to the opera house, then go to lunch," Meg said.


The masquerade was in full swing as Christine entered with Meg. Sorelli was already there on the arm of Comte Phillipe de Chagny. Meg's gown came to her knees. She wore black boots. Her blonde hair was styled up with gem-studded hair pins in it. Christine held her breath as she entered. She could feel the weight of all eyes on her. Her hair was pinned up with tendrils curling, framing her face. She had white feather hair pins in the back with tiny white roses pinned as well in her auburn curls. She looked the very image of a beautiful dove as she descended the stairs to the dance floor. She looked down, not wanting to meet any man's eyes. She passed a familiar face dressed as a pirate. He did not even take a second glance at her. He was more consumed by full full-chested dark dark-haired chorus girl named Renee. His light brown hair was cut short. His blue eyes were locked on Renne's warm, honey brown eyes. She was dressed as a black domino. Meg and Christine made their way over to Sorelli, who was hanging on the arm of Comte Phillipe De Chaney. He wore a dark purple suit with a purple mask.

"Sorelli," Christine greeted her.

"Christine, is that you?" Phillipe asked.

Christine looked at him with wide eyes. She remembered an older boy than Raoul. He had grown up into a handsome, powerful man. He wore power like a second skin.

"Phillipe?" Christine asked.

"Yes, my brother is around here somewhere. You look amazing," Phillipe told her.

"Thank you," Christine said.

Countess Maria De Chaney came over dressed in a beautiful black cat. Phillipe bowed to us before he walked over, taking his wife's arm. Sorelli was nothing more than his mistress. She was happiest that way. Christine took a flute of champagne. She sips on it as long as she slinks into the shadows. She could feel the weight of men's stares of lust and desire, while most women looked at her with envy in their eyes.

"Sorelli, how do you put up with their attention?" Christine asked.

"You get used to it. Chris, you can always tell them no. If anything, it will make them want you more," Sorelli told her.

"I do not want them to want me," Christine muttered.

"There will always be ones that want you or want to be you. You must embrace that fact," Sorelli stated, like nothing.

Madame Giry was on the balcony. Her eyes were always watchful of her young charges. Out of the corner of her eyes, she spied Nadir. He was dressed in festive clothes with a Tiger Mask on his face. She moved over to him with concern on her face. Nadir had never come to one of these events, just like Erik had never come. Her eyes were searching Erik. For if Nadir was here, it likely meant Erik was here.

"Madame Giry, what can I do for you?" Nadir asked.

"Please tell me he is not here," Madame Giry said in a hushed tone.

"I truly wish I could, Madame," Nadir answered.

Nadir's jade-colored eyes locked on Erik. Erik had finally caught sight of Christine. Before, he was just walking around the room. But now he moved with the grace of a cat with purpose in his every movement.

Christine was talking with Meg. Meg was asked to dance. Sorelli had long since left her, moving on to her next target. Christine felt so out of place. She wore a mask, but she also wore one beyond the physical sense of the word. She had a fake smile plastered on her face. Her eyes had found Raoul, who was talking to Renee. She realized she had walked right past them. And he did not spare her a second glance. Her hands played with each other as her nerves plagued her thoughts. She never even heard someone approaching her.

"May I have this dance?" Erik asked.

Christine turned to look up at him. His golden eyes locked with her blue-green eyes. The only reason she did not instantly say no was because she knew that voice. Erik was dressed in a completely black suit. It had black feathers on its shoulders. His mask was black leather, completely covered with raven black feathers. The mask covered most of his face only his chin was visible.

"I do not know how," Christine said.

"I will guide you, Mon Petit," Erik said, falling back into his nickname for her.

Christine's eyes went wide. She nodded her head. She took his gloved hand. His other gloved hand traveled to her small waist. She was lost in his golden eyes. He was shocked that she allowed him to lead her in their dance. She was basking in the fact that she was in her angel's arms. Her small hand rested in his larger, gloved one while the other rested on his shoulder. He was so much taller and imposing than her. They seemed to be lost in each other.

Nadir's eyes went wide when he saw them dancing together. Madame Giry's eyes also went wide as she watched them dance together. They looked like they belonged together. It was like the day dancing with the night. Neither had power over the other. It was like they were the only ones there. Sorelli and Meg stopped watching them dance.

"She loves him," Sorelli said.

"Who is he?" Meg asked.

"I don't know, but she clearly loves him and him her," Sorelli said.

Christine's infectious laughter filled the room as he lifted her up in the dance. This moment would live forever in his mind. She leaned up almost to kiss him as the dance came to an end. Her eyes were closed. He took her hand, kissing the top of it before disappearing into the crowd. An inspiration had struck him dumb. The image of her in that dressed that was so much like a wedding dress lived in his mind. Christine was soon surrounded by Sorelli and Meg. All Christine could think about was the way she felt in her angel's arms and his lips on her hand. She now knew beyond a shadow of doubt he was a man.

Nadir and Madame Giry looked at each other. Both of them knew it was not going to be the end of Erik and Christine's flirtation. It was now clear to Nadir that Christine shared Erik's feelings. He would have to convince him to tell her.


I hope you liked it. Let me know what you think. Up Next, A new Prima Donna.