The Angel's Reality

Chapter Six - The Fall

Hello! I'm sorry I've taken so long to update. But real quick before we start, I just wanted to recognize Piper Sherrill for editing all my books! She is amazing, and these would be a whole lot worse if she weren't checking up on me. Thank you again for reading! I don't own phantom or LND. Enjoy!!!
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...three weeks later...

A loud BANG suddenly filled the room, and a high pitched scream came from somewhere backstage. I lay there on the stage like a limp noodle. We'd been practicing the ballet for our production and I managed to completely fall over on one of the easiest turns.

I could feel my face turn red. I attempted to get up, but it was as if I were glued to the wooden panels beneath me.

Several stage hands rushed to my side and attempted to help me to my feet. However, once I was I fell back down, this time landing flat on my butt.

"Ouch!" I yelped. Several people around me gasped. My eyes watered with pain. Not for, what was now, my bruised butt, but more for my aching ankle.

"Christine! Are you alright?!" Madame Giry yelled, running to my side. Ironically the woman who got the part of Madame Giry was always in character. Very strict but always a mother to Meg and me. Even if we were completely outside of the theater.

"I don't know..." I gasped softly. "Madame, my ankle hurts terribly!.." I tried to move it but the pain spread through my whole leg the moment I thought about moving it.

"Oh dear..." she said as she began to prod at it. She gave me a few small commands such as, wiggle your toes, or try to bend it this or that way. "My dear, I do believe it's sprained."

"No!" I yelled. "It can't be! I've worked so hard!" My frustration nearly represented itself through tears. I let the top half of my body flop backward so that my whole back was flat to the stage. I whipped my face with my hands in an attempt to calm myself. I'd been working so hard! Why did I injure the part of me that I required to learn the only part of my role that I didn't know?!

"Christine, I think you should rest in your dressing room. The other ballerinas need to practice, and you need some ice on that ankle."

"Fine!" I said slapping the wood with both my palms as I used my arms to push myself up. I glared at the floor around my wounded ankle, letting my posture collapse. I could feel Madame Giry's eyes on me, probably trying to keep herself from correcting me.

"Roul!" She called, "if you could, please escort Miss Daaé to her room."

"Yes Madame." He said. Brayden and I made eye contact for only a split second, and I hoped my glare conveyed every emotion of warning and anger that I could. But in one swift motion he'd picked me up princess style. And I assumed that my glare didn't quite get through to him because his smirk was bigger than any I'd ever seen him wear.

He held me like this, being careful not to hit my ankles on anything, but at the same time not paying much attention to my head, and only giving small grunts of apology and acknowledgement. I guessed he wanted me to lay my head on his shoulder, which I was very determined not to do. And so for my stubbornness I was given my reward.

He finally laid me to rest on the small couch in my dressing room. I expected him to stick around and try to talk, but he simply glanced at me one last time and silently left the room. Weird. I thought. He never leaves without a word.

I looked around the room slowly, looking for any sign of life. The last time I was in here I got locked in. That's when I was uninjured... I wondered vaguely who would bring my ice pack when a tall dark figure appeared in the doorway. My heart stopped beating for a moment.