The Violinist | Christine Daae

Chapter Seven

 A few more weeks went by, and Francois' nightmare gradually began to appear less and less. Now it only appeared every few nights or so. Francois was relieved it was going away, of course, but he hadn't yet been able to shake that same feeling of dread he had been carrying around.

 Finally, Francois decided he needed to ask Christine about her visit with the Opera Ghost. Was he really a ghost? If not, who was he? What did he look like? Where in the Opera Populaire did he live? There was so many things he wanted to know; all he had to do was ask Christine and if she would tell him.

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 "Christine. It's Francois."

 "You can come in," he heard.

 Francois entered Christine's dressing room to find her sitting with the Vicomte de Chagny.

 "Oh. I'm very sorry. Have I interrupted something?"

 "No, I'm afraid I must be going, anyway," said the Vicomte. "I shall see you tonight." He gave Christine a kiss on the cheek and gave Francois a quick nod as he went out the door.

 "Is he courting you?" Francois asked. "I mean, it's got nothing to do with me, but I was just wondering."

 "Well, I suppose it must be clear by now," said Christine. "Yes, he is. It always makes me feel better to be at the Opera Populaire with Raoul here, and I'm happy he spends as much time here as he is able to."

 Francois looked down at his friend's smiling face, the happy features. She was in such a good mood that he wanted to just turn around and leave without starting a conversation at all.

 "Are you all right, Francois?" she asked him. "Has something happened?"

 "No, nothing in particular," he asked, standing awkwardly in front of the door, looking everywhere around the room except straight at her. "I fear now that my questions will spoil your mood and ruin your day."

 "Why would you say that?" she asked.

 "Christine...look, I can't help it. I have to know about the Phantom of the Opera. If you don't want to talk about it, I understand, but...whatever the story is, whoever or whatever the ghost really is, I'll believe you. I don't believe you would lie to me about it."

 She shook her head. "I wouldn't lie to you about it, Francois. Thank you for believing that. I really don't see how it would help your mind to know what he really is, but I will tell if it will help you. Come, let's go up to the roof. I would rather no one overhear us in here."

 Francois followed Christine up to the rooftop of the Opera Populaire. The autumn had just begun, and you could feel the cool weather beginning to settle in if you stood up there for a time.

 "Did it start on the night you disappeared?" Francois asked. "Or was it before that?"

 "No, it was much before that," Christine answered. "After my father died, I had lost all interest in music. I just...didn't care anymore. But one day, I heard a voice within the walls, a man singing. I thought it was the Angel of Music, the one my father told me stories of when I was a little girl. He said he was, and that he would teach me to sing like an angel. I believed him. He did teach me, but he is no Angel of Music."

 "Well, he's not an angel or a ghost. He's just a man, then, isn't he?"

 She nodded. "Yes, but a madman. The night I disappeared was the night he took me to his home. He lives in a house beside a lake, underneath the opera house. I believe he meant to keep me there forever, but...I took off his mask, and I saw his face."

 Christine paused, and looked as if she were reliving one of her worst memories. Francois waited patiently for her to continue, and she did.

 "He told me I would never be free of him," she went on. "And then he brought me back. I...I know he'll be back. No matter what I were to do, I could never run from him or hide from him. If I thought I could have, I would have already left."

 "But there's no point," Francois said. "I understand." He sighed. "I would get a job as a violinist somewhere else, but I don't know if I could."

 "I would miss you, though."

 "Oh, come now, you have the Vicomte to keep you company."

 "I do, and I'm very fond of Raoul. But I don't know if he really believed me when I told him. I was very upset, and all my words were coming out on top of one another. I think he must have thought I was a madwoman. But he promised to take care of me and protect me, and I believe that." She sighed. "I suppose it's only a matter of time. I'm happy I can tell you everything and know you'll believe me, Francois. Thank you."

 "Well, thank you for tolerating me," he said. "And Christine...if you ever do need help where this Opera Ghost is concerned, you can come to me for help."

 "I thought you were afraid of the Phantom of the Opera."

 "I imagine I still am," Francois replied, "whether he's a ghost or not. But I would still help you escape from him if I could."