It had been two days. Two days since the Phantom had taken over Garnier High School's production of the Light in the Piazza, since Christine had gained the part of Clara. Everyone attempted to just simply move on, but this seemed to be unfathomable for most. The heavy air of fear pressed down on everyone's shoulders.

Christine stood on the stage, fumbling around with her hands nervolusly. Paul had convinced her to take the part of Clara, to take a place back inside of the spotlight. She could still feel the Phantom's eyes on her, burning the back of her neck every moment she spent inside Garnier High School.

The piano introduction for The Beauty Is began, and Mrs. Richard started telling Christine her staging. It was very vague directions because she had already staged this whole scene for Carly. Christine was meant to already know this staging because of this-after all, she had done this for Cinderella already.

She had thought that she knew it because of how she had paid attention whenever Carly sang. But Christine soon realized that she had been paying attention to the singing rather than locations and actions. But Christine had to do her best, as best as she possibly could.

The Angel of Music, now the newly dubbed Phantom, was watching, and the directors would be very unhappy she messed up everything. But Christine had a feeling it would be a worse decision to make the Angel of Music unhappy.

Christine bit her lip as the intro was finally giving way to her voice.

"These are very popular, in Italy," Christine sang, her spirit bouncing along to the piano music. Her heart was beating very quickly. As badly as she wanted this role, she wanted it for herself, not because an Angel of Music made it happen through his threats and breaking a poor boy's leg.

Carly looked like she wanted to murder her from the wings. Christine herself almost wanted to go back and cower in the wings herself. Maybe the center of the stage wasn't where she was meant to be anymore. Paul had helped calm some of her fears, but being back on the stage was making them rise up again.

"It's the land of naked marble boys!" she sang out, and a few people laughed. That was good. At least someone was enjoying her performance.

"Something we don't see a lot in Winston-Salem!" Christine had been fearful that her voice would crack when she tried to jump up to that high note. But she had hit it perfectly, impressing everyone including herself. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Meg and Bridget sitting in the wings, nodding and smiling widely.

"That's the land of courdoroy!" The music slowed down and became sweeter as she walked around.

"I'm just a someone in an old museum,

Far away from home as someone can go." Her eyebrows lifted as she got herself fully engaged into the song. Finally the stage began to feel like a home to her again instead of some foreign place. This is how performing was meant to feel. Everyone always talked about being bitten by the performing bug, and Christine was sure that she had been affected by it.

"And the beauty is I still meet people I know.

Hello!" Her arm went up in a wave, the tips of her lips going upwards as well. Everything was coming together more perfectly than she ever could have imagined. Christine was alllowing herself to become Clara.

This is exactly what the Angel of Music had been teaching her about, bringing true emotion into her already impressive voice. With feeling on her side, she would have the power to move people using her music alone. For someone who had been raised on strict technique this had seemed rather abstract, but he could not have been more correct about it.

Of course, he had also turned out to be a man with a murky soul who wore a mask to hide his hideous face. His ambitions for Christine had driven him to violence, and she knew he was capable of much. She had seen the pure flame that was within his eyes, burning for her.

But she couldn't let these thoughts muddle her performance. Mrs. Richard and Mr. Montegomery were very serious about everyone giving their all for every single rehearsal no matter what. To them, it didn't matter what had happened outside of the auditorium. All that mattered to them was happened on the stage, and that made sense.

Christine tried to pour her soul into this role, reminding herself just how much she had been craving it. Carly would be furious with her no matter how well she performed, so she might as well sing at her very best.

"This is wanting something, this is reaching for it,

This is wishing that a moment would arrive.

This is taking chances, this is almost touching, what the beauty is."

This was the big solo moment for Clara Johnson in the Light in the Piazza. If Christine could get this right, then maybe she wouldn't have as much guilt for her Angel doing such horrible things. It was terrible to think about. The Angel had become a Phantom in the blink of an eye. But as Christine began to falter a little bit, she looked over to Paul. He gave her a sweet smile and Christine smiled a tiny bit back. They were in love. It was so strange to think of that, but it was the truth.

I don't understand a word they're saying,

I'm as different here as different can be.

But the beauty is I still meet people like me."

Christine let herself dissolve into the music for a moment, trying to absorb it into her mind. She had to admit, it was an unbelievably lovely score. She hadn't heard anything like it in her life, and that alone was enough to make it attractive to her. The Light in the Piazza really was a gorgeous musical, and she shouldn't be letting anything spoil that for her.

Everyone's a mother here, in Italy.

Everyone's a father, or a son.

I think if I had a child, I would take such care of her.

Then I wouldn't feel like one."

Her heart had began to pump intensely as she suddenly became overly aware of all of the eyes watching over her. This was the sort of thing she had been learning how to shut out of her head, but evidently what she had been doing wasn't enough.

"I've hardly met a single soul, but I am not alone.

I feel grown.

The song was truly beginning to grow, and Christine was a bit worried about it. "This is wanting something, this is praying for it,*

This is holding breath and keeping fingers crossed!"

She was doing well, but she only hoped that it would last her until the end. Her voice had failed her in the past before. It wouldn't surprise her too badly if it would fail her again. But she wanted to do well on this so badly. People were getting hurt because the Phantom had pushed her into this role. The least she could do was perform it well.

"This is counting blessings, this is wondering when I'll see that boy again.

I've got a feeling he's just a someone, too."

Christine began building up to the big finish of the song, with a high note and everything. "And the beauty is, when you realize, when you realize-" But Christine was suddenly cut off. The lights had begun to get very bright and then quickly fade back into darkness. This cycle of light and dark continued.

Without warning, there was the earsplitting sound of feedback. Chandelier was supposed to be top of the line, it was not a lighting and sound system that would break down itself. Then the system began to spark, and everyone was silent for a moment. It was the calm before the storm.

"What's going on?" someone shrieked, cutting through the silence like a sharp knife.

A voice, the voice of her Phantom, boomed out over everything. "Now she is the one singing today to bring Chandelier down!"

Everything went to Hell as soon as he spoke those words. There were sparks and screams everywhere. This was very wrong. Hadn't the notes had promised that if Christine was given the part of Clara Johnson then nothing bad would happen? No more bad things would happen if Christine was Clara.

It had been made fairly clear, and yet Chandelier was breaking. The Phantom, he had been so kind to her and then he had suddenly been a demon. This Phantom could not seem to make up his mind. The auditorium turned to chaos around her, people running for cover and out and away, the directors unsure what to do first.

Christine sank to her knees and put her face in her hands, beginning to sob. She was so confused about everything, everything that surrounded her. She was confused, and afraid, and she had this horrible feeling that everything that had happened was her fault.

But the sparkling new, uber high technology Chandelier was being destroyed all around them. It wasn't meant to get anyone hurt, it was just meant to be a display of the Phantom's power. This only made Christine cry harder.

She was going to be blamed for it, and rightfully so. All of a sudden she felt a hand on her shoulder and she shrieked, afraid that is was the Phantom coming to get her again. But when she brought her face out of her hands and looked with teary eyes to the person behind her she saw Paul.

His face was concerned, but under the strange lights that were flashing and sparking, he looked like an angel. A real angel, not the sort who pretends to be a friend and then starts creating havoc.

"Help me," she said, unsure if he could possibly even hear a hint of her voice above all the screaming. But Paul didn't have to know what she was saying in order to pull her away from it all. He grabbed her hand, acting as her support.

"Come on, Christine. Come on."

"Paul, what are we going to do?" she blubbered. "This is all..."

"No need to talk," he replied. "Right now we just have to get out of here. This is not safe, and I'm not going to have you getting hurt."

Christine took only a brief moment to stare at him one last time before she gave a massive nod. He gave her a small smile in an attempt to reassure her and then started pulling her along, getting her out of the auditorium as quickly as possible. Hordes of people followed after them, but they had a head start to get themselves ahead of the crowd.

As Paul and Christine ran out and made their way into the hallway hand in hand, Christine realized that she could hear the faint sound of a voice. It made her breath close up in fear and she stopped, causing Paul to jerk back with her.

"Christine?" Paul said, immediately putting one arm around her waist and a hand on her face. "What's wrong?"

Christine was so afraid she couldn't even speak. Paul stroked the side of her face and as he pulled her closer he realized that her breaths were short and ragged, as if she was about to start crying.

"Oh, Christine," he murmured into her ear. "Christine, my Christine. Just tell me what's wrong."

"I can hear him," she said, gasping for breath between sobs. "He's everywhere, Paul, everywhere! This is all my fault, all of it..."

"How could this possibly be your fault, Christine?" Paul said, legitimately confused. "You didn't break Chandelier, you didn't do any of this."

"But he, the Phantom, he's doing it all because of me," she whispered, her voice getting breathier with each word. "It's because I betrayed him. Almost like he betrayed me."

A/N *rolls around* It's the famous chandelier scene, Rainized! Okay, maybe not Rainized because that sounds weird. But, you know, I did my best. And this was rather enjoyable to write. I lke extreme fear and violence...she typed, realizing how strange that must have sounded.