The Violinist | Christine Daae

Chapter Six

 Within the next month that passed, nothing strange at all happened at the Opera Populaire. It was as if the Phantom of the Opera had disappeared entirely. That, or he was simply waiting for another chance to cause more trouble.

 That fact that the Opera Ghost seemed to disappear entirely made Francois uneasy. It shocked him that almost everyone was moving on from the events of that disastrous night so quickly that no one ever mentioned it, and it was as if it never even happened. He honestly could not believe it, but then he realized that it would make sense that everyone would just act like it never happened; who would want to talk about it?

 The only person around the Opera Populaire Francois sensed any change in was Christine. She was visibly more quiet and withdrawn. She had already been quiet and little shy before all of this, but she had truly changed. It was as if she tried to be happy, but she was hurt and aching on the inside.

 Since La Carlotta's return, Christine had been playing more minor roles, and hadn't played any leading lady characters since the night the chandelier came crashing down. She seemed almost relieved to not have any large roles. She also began spending a lot of her time with the Vicomte de Chagny, whom Francois thought she looked happy with, but who knew if she was?

 Since that night, Francois had been having a recurring nightmare that always went the same way: he was walking down a dark corridor, without any idea where he was. And just when he thought he had found his way out, someone would grab him from behind and drag him away into the darkness. It was always then that he would awake with a start, panting and covered in sweat.

 Francois didn't tell his sister about his nightmares; Jeanne had enough to worry about already, and she didn't his problems as well. It occurred to Francois that there was probably no one he could talk to about this nightmare that would take his concerns seriously.

 Except for one person.

~~~~~~

 Francois knocked on the door. "Christine? Are you here? It's Francois."

 "You can come in, Francois!" he heard.

 Christine was alone, thankfully, and she gave him a warm smile when he entered the dressing room.

 "Won't Monsieur Reyer be angry if you sneak away from rehearsals?" she asked.

 "I would think so, but he might not mind this one time. I never give him any trouble. Christine...you still believe in the Opera Ghost, don't you?"

 She smile instantly disappeared. "Why? Have you seen him?"

 "No, no, thankfully not. I've...been having a nightmare. The same one, over and over again. It started after the night of the chandelier. I don't have anyone to tell without them worrying too much or thinking I'm just being silly. But...I don't believe you will."

 "No, of course I wouldn't, Francois," she said gently. "Here, sit with me. What is this nightmare?"

 "It's always the exact same thing. I'm walking down a dark corridor. I have no idea where I am; it's nowhere I've ever seen before. And then I think I've found a door, a way out. I'm about to get out, and into the light, but then I don't. Someone-or something-grabs me, and pulls me away into the darkness. And that's it. I wake up. But it happens every night."

 Francois' words all came tumbling out on top of one another. But Christine understood every word of it.

 "Oh, Francois." She took his hands in hers. "I have also had nightmares. I dread going to sleep at night, because he is there. I..." she glanced around the room, "I don't know if he even hears us now. That's what frightens me, Francois. There is no way to know where he is or what he will do. Not many people truly believe he exists."

 "But what about the Vicomte?" Francois asked. "Surely he would believe you."

 "I did tell Raoul. Oh, he's such a dear man, Francois, and wants nothing more than keep me safe from whatever is frightening me so. But...I don't think he truly believes, not like you do. You believe and you fear, the same as I do. Don't be ashamed of your nightmare, Francois. I understand." She leaned over and kissed his cheek. "Now, please go back to the orchestra before Monsieur Reyer is cross with you."

 "Oh. Right. Um...thank you, Christine. Thank you very much."

 "Of course. You come talk to me whenever you like; we're friends."

 Fracnois walked out of the room feeling as if an enormous weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. Someone understood.