In The Wings

Act IV Scene II

Christine could not walk the halls without the fear that someone would appear out of nowhere and snatch her to take her away forever and ever. She thought she saw fire burning in the eyes of people around her and she would immediately cower away.

She was so afraid of everything around her now that the Phantom had gotten to her head. In the end, no matter how paranoid Christine was, he would always be more clever, and therefore would be able to do whatever he wished pertaining her. She felt like some doll that was just forced to sing day after day, no one giving her any say anymore.

Despite the care she always took to look behind her all of the time, she always failed to see one thing. There was a shadow that followed her shadow, its every move. When she stopped, it would stop. When she moved again, it would move again. It never made any noise, no more than any other shadow would.

Had Christine ever laid eyes on this shadow, she probably would have burst into tears of maddening fear. She was being driven insane by this situation, and many people noticed this change in behavior that had taken over her.

Paul, who was in love with the girl, noticed it most of all. He hated to bring it up most of the time, but it had gotten to a point where it was worse to stay silent than to talk about it. There was a definite threat to be found in the Phantom and his effects on Christine - just maybe not the ones everyone else were worried about.

While sitting around before rehearsal was to begin, Paul walked up to Christine to confront her on what had been pestering him in the back of his mind for the past few days. He had a feeling this was upset her - but he had to know.

"You told me once that inspires you. What feeling does he inspire in you?" Paul said, worried about what Christine really felt about this Phantom.

"Horror!" Christine said, as if it should be dead obvious. "That is the terrible thing about it. He fills me with horror and I don't hate him. How could I hate him, Paul?" Christine said, her voice slightly wobbling.

"Well, there are many reasons why you could hate him-" Christine cut Paul off, shaking her head.

"Think of him at my feet," Christine said. "He blames himself for everything, and asks for my forgiveness. He carries me off and imprisons me and yet I can't hate him. He has some reason, some full and unshakable reason for doing it all." She took a deep breath as she remembered everything that had happened that one fateful night. "He respects me even as he crawls at my feet, he moans, he weeps!" Christine remembered the face of the Phantom as he had offered to take her back even after she had pulled off his mask. "

Paul, when I stood up and told him that I could only hate him if he didn't return me, he offered to show me the mysterious road back to the world I know." She looked up for a minute, lost in her own thoughts and experiencces.

"Only he rose too and I was made to remember that, though he was not an angel, nor a ghost, nor a genius, he remained the voice. He sang. And I listened, and I stayed! That night, we did not exchange another word. He sang me to sleep."

"You slept with this man watching over you?" Paul said, his voice filled with complete and utter hatred towards him. He was implying that far worse than singing had happened between the two of them.

"What are you trying to say, Paul?" Christine said, her voice suddenly filling with anger. "No, I know exactly what you think. But it's not like that."

"Christine, I don't understand you at all right now," Paul said, stepping up to her and pushing her curls out of her face. "You say he scares you but at the same time you don't hate him. How can that possibly be the case?"

"I already explained all of it to you, Paul. I don't know what else to say."

"Well, you should," Paul said. "I want to help you, I want to understand you. But when you close up and start talking in riddles because of this Phantom, I can't do any of that. You have feelings for him, don't you?"

Christine's eyes flamed slightly. "You think I have feelings for him? For the man who is probably going to kill to get to me?"

Paul raised his hands up into the air and then slammed them down, hitting his thighs. "This is exactly what I'm talking about, Christine. One second you're protecting him and saying that you can't hate him, and then the next second all I can see in your eyes when you talk about him is hatred. You're in love with him, somehow."

"In love with him," Christine scoffed. "In love, with him. Him! Not hate doesn't equal love."

"I thought you loved me, Christine," Paul said. "But sometimes when you talk about the Phantom I can't help but see a glint of that same love in your eyes-"

"Shut up!" Christine screamed. All the other people around them, who had been avoiding looking at them for the entire conversation, now turned around to stare. She noticed this change and buried her face into her hands, feeling tears coming to her eyes.

"Christine, just be honest with me," Paul said, lowering his voice as he moved closer to her. Even if he was furious with her in some ways, he couldn't deny his love for her. He cared about her too much to simply ignore her pain.

"I am being honest," she whispered. "I've told you what you needed to know. I promise you, Paul, I wouldn't lie to you. Don't forget that."

"Of course you wouldn't," Paul said, a slight growling tone creeping into his voice. If he wanted to, he could perfectly recall all the moments that Christine had neglected to tell him the truth about whatever was going on. But he closed his eyes and tried to push the topic away.

Soon he felt Christine's soft palm pressed up against the side of his face. The contact made it clear that she was shaking from fear even though she said nothing of it. She wanted this to be a tender moment between her and Paul.

"Paul," Christine said. "Don't let the Phantom get between us. Please. I know you care about me, and I care about you just the same...and I don't want this ghost to be what breaks us apart. I need you, Paul. I. Need. You."

As he looked over to her and connected their gazes, he couldn't help but believe what she was saying. He wished she was saying another set of three words, but he wouldn't allow himself to dwell on it for too long. Rehearsal was about to start, after all, and there was still much work to be done.

Before they could exchange any more words, Christine began pulling her lips over towards to Paul and connected them in a sweet kiss. For her it was more of a way to distract herself from the issues of the outside world and to hopefully solve the dispute between the two of them, but she decided to keep that to herself.

She'd much rather have a temporary solution than to leave the wound wide open. Always, Christine would try to find ways to fix things however haphazardly she had to throw it together.

A/N It feels quite good to finally be updating this again. For once, this was a passage that was based more on the book than the musical. And I like that, because the book doesn't get enough credit. I thought this scene was brilliant, and I hope I could do it justice!