Christine
I woke to the sound of lilting notes coming from the organ in the parlor. I recognized the tune, but couldn't name it. It sounded almost like a lullaby.
I washed and changed into day clothes. After a stint of aggravating coaching from Erik, I was now able to manage the corsets by myself. I hated relying on him for everything; I felt like a leech. At least he let me pay him a small fee for the food I ate.
Our kisses still lingered in my mind—the first rushed and thoughtless, the second slow and deliberate. How often had I imagined kissing Erik? Years ago, after first seeing his musical, I was enchanted by the idea of him. And now, here I was, living the fantasy I had only entertained on dark nights, pouring myself into his books and a few brilliant phanfictions.
I hadn't known what I'd wished for all those years ago when I'd imagined being with Erik. He was messy and unpredictable. But he was also wildly intriguing. I was drawn to him—to the excitement of each day discovering more of his alluring complexities.
Yesterday he had left me alone with no explanation, but he came back and seemed to understand that he was in the wrong. I still wanted him.
My thoughts took unexpected turns as I meandered through the morning, eating breakfast with Ayesha curled up at my feet. Did people date in this day and age? I thought that they merely courted, or asked for someone's hand, and that was it. A girl certainly didn't have serious boyfriend after serious boyfriend, unless she wanted unsavory things said about her in the ever-flowing stream of gossip. Were Erik and I dating? We had kissed, but nothing more.
Mellow music continued to drift in from the organ; Erik had been playing for quite some time. I made him a cup of tea and carried it to him, guessing that he had had nothing to eat all morning. He stopped his playing when he saw me and took the cup gratefully.
"I didn't know what you liked in it, so I didn't add anything," I said.
"It's perfect," he said, taking a sip.
I leaned awkwardly against the organ, trying to appear cool and collected. I doubted it worked. "I have to go to rehearsals earlier today than usual," I said, "because we are just starting Ill Muto and there's so much to do. But soon I won't have to go nearly at all since my character has no speaking or singing."
"That's fine by me. You are welcome to pass as much time as you wish here." Erik put down the tea and resumed playing, then paused and turned back to me. "Are you happy here?" he asked.
I considered the question seriously before answering. "There have been times when everything is overwhelming, and yesterday I was very upset at you. But I'm not anymore. I love spending time with you; I love singing. I would say that overall, yes, I am very happy." I smiled at him to show him I meant it.
He reached for one of my hands. "I want you to be happy, Christine," he said. "I want it more than anything."
I smiled at him gratefully and squeezed his hand. I had to leave then, but I promised I would be back as soon as rehearsals were over.
I took the tunnels to the chapel. After descending two flights of stairs, I'd rejoined the horde of cast and crew that trafficked the central part of the theater. On the way to the stage, I ran into Raoul, dressed in a bright white and gold jacket that looked like a piece of the opera house's molding.
"Christine," he said, "I've been looking for you. I was worried after you left the theater yesterday. Are you well?" He looked genuinely concerned for me, and I thought that maybe I had been too harsh on him before.
"Yes, Raoul," I replied. "Thank you."
"I wanted to apologize about not giving you the role of Countess," he said. "In the end, it was the managers' decision, and they refused to do anything that the ghost impostor told us to."
I bit my lip to keep back a sharp retort. I began walking down the hall again and gestured for Raoul to accompany me. I had to make sure I was on time for rehearsals.
"Anyway," he went on, "I know that I have made some errors when it comes to our interactions, and I wanted to start over."
I stopped in my tracks. It seemed like a sincere apology. Should I accept and allow Raoul to keep seeing me? He was powerful, and having a friend like him could come in handy. And as annoying as it was to have him continually hovering around, I had to acknowledge that it was all to win my affection. "All right," I told him. "You may start over."
He grinned and took a flourishing bow. "My lady," he said with an impressive air, "I am Vicomte Raoul De Chagny, and you are the most beautiful creature I have ever beheld."
"Now, let me stop you right there," I said. "Thank you for the compliment, but I would prefer if we stayed friends. If that is not acceptable to you, I understand. We can part now on good terms."
Raoul took on the demeanor of a hurt puppy. "Is there someone else?" he asked.
"What?" I asked, flustered. "Whatever made you think—"
Raoul moved toward me and stood a little too near. "There are rumors," he said in a low tone, "not that I listen to rumors, but there are some, that you are close to the opera ghost. He does seem to favor you, after all."
I drew myself up to my full height. "How preposterous," I said. "If he told you to give me the lead, it is because I am the best singer you have, ask anyone. He cares about his opera house, not me."
Raoul looked doubtful. "His opera house?"
"That's how he thinks of it, doesn't he?" I responded.
Raoul scratched at his chin and looked at me as if trying to read my mind. "Yes," he said. "I suppose he does." All agreeability again, he stepped back and bowed. "I must be letting you go now, Mademoiselle. I will see you again soon, I know." He kissed my hand, lingering half a second too long, then left.
...
Erik
A noise—there was a person close by in the tunnels. Discarding the idea that someone had managed to bypass all my traps through sheer luck, I engaged in a quick bought of mental arithmetic, counting off the number of people who knew their way through the passages. The intruder was not Christine—I would have recognized her gait anywhere—and the footfalls were too sharp and quick to belong to Nadir. That left a single possibility.
"Good morning, Antoinette," I said in a carrying voice, then I went to fetch her from across the lake. Christine knew the passage straight to the house, for convenience's sake, but everyone else had to be rowed over from the far shore.
Madame Giry stood on the lake's bank, her figure dwarfed by the enormity of the cavern. She clutched a lantern, but its feeble light barely reached a few feet into the darkness. A combination of natural and human-made pillars hid my approach from her nervous, darting eyes. As I drew near, using a pole to guide the gondola silently through the water, it occurred to me that it might be amusing to frighten the scrupulous ballet instructor. I chose the higher path, however, and steered directly into her line of sight. I was really a saint.
"Erik," she said with relief when she saw me. Her moment of unease had passed; she was composed and collected once more. "We need to talk," she said. "We have needed to talk for a long time."
I helped her in the boat without answering. It had been months since she had ventured down into my realm. This visit was about Christine, I was sure. I knew that Giry viewed her as a daughter and as such would be concerned for her safety.
I was right. As soon as she stepped onto dry land, Giry got straight to the point. "Christine has been acting strange lately," she accused. "She is distant, and sometimes she disappears for hours at a time. Do you know anything about that?"
"Disappears?" I asked, deciding that, for the moment, feigning innocence was my safest course of action.
"Yes," Giry continued, looking at me sideways. "I assume that she found somewhere else to stay because she does not come back to the dormitories anymore." She gave me a pointed look, allowing me the opportunity to interject if I wanted.
I was silent as I led her through the front door and closed it behind her.
Giry set her lamp on a table but didn't bother to remove her coat. "Erik, is Christine Daae living in your house?"
I sighed. Why did I keep up relations with these people? All they did was criticize me. Except for Christine; Christine was kind. "She is," I admitted, and I braced myself for the verbal onslaught that was sure to follow.
It came. "How could you?" Giry shouted. "Corrupting an innocent girl's reputation by letting her live with you! She is naive and young, Erik. I don't know what you have been telling her or doing to her..."
That was where I drew the line. "I have not done a thing to Christine," I growled, stepping closer so I loomed over her. "Do not presume you know what goes on between us. She is here of her own free will; I will swear it to you if it eases your conscience."
Giry crossed her arms and tapped her foot in the way that made the ballet rats run for cover.
I only retreated to a seat by the fireplace and eyed her warily. "I appreciate your concern for Christine," I said, "as ill-founded as it is. She sleeps in the other bedroom, and I give her singing lessons. Nothing more." Well, two kisses.
She still looked skeptical, but she seemed to be wavering. "And you admit that you have no more feelings for her?"
I looked away. "I didn't say that."
Resigned, Giry took a seat on Christine's sofa. I was about to inform her that that was Christine's spot before I realized how preposterous it sounded. Ayesha leaped up next to her and waited to be petted. "Erik," Giry sighed, "be careful. Neither of us want Christine to get hurt. Do you think she feels for you as well?"
That was the question, wasn't it? I had thought all night about Christine's actions, analyzing every motive I could think of, and I'd finally come to a conclusion. "I believe so," I told her.
She seemed to accept the inevitable. "Very well. I trust you," she said. "But if you cross one toe over the line, be warned that I will hunt you down and make you wish you had never set eyes on her."
I believed she was capable of it.
Suddenly, she smiled at me. "That aside, I can't think of a more worthy recipient of your affection. Christine is truly special."
This turn in the conversation startled me, but I told her I agreed wholeheartedly.
Giry gave me one last appraising glance before leaning back in her seat and allowing Ayesha to clamber into her lap. "And as much as you might doubt, I believe that you may just deserve her as well."