A/N: Just a cute little one-shot I decided to write because I felt like it. :-P. It's musical based and Christine is just a young ballet student - say about nine. Just a special moment she spends with her angel of music. It's probably not historically accurant (with the vacations and stuff) but you can take it as it is and just enjoy it.
The next chapter of The Dreams of Angels will be posted as soon as it gets back from my beta. So stay tuned for that!
Those Special Moments
Little Christine Daae was seen as the epitome of perfection. She was as cute as a button in her blue skirt and pink ballet shoes. Her curly brown hair was usually tied into a messy but sturdy bun and her eyes seemed to sparkle and shine. She was as graceful as a dove and could sing like an angel.
But everyone seemed to forget about her when the other ballet students went home to visit their families. That was why she hated holidays and vacations. She had no where to go and no one to see. She would feel unwanted and alone in the opera house, under the supervision of the few older students and teachers who chose to stay behind. She had no one to talk to and no one to play with.
What she hated even more were the days leading up to and the days after the vacation. She had nothing to say while all the other girls were talking excitedly about their families and visits. Sometimes she would feel hot tears come to her eyes. She wished she had a family to go home to.
Today was like any other day. The only exception was that today was one of the days that Christine hated. The only sound she heard all through the ballet lesson was Madame Giry's strict instructions and the talk of the two-week vacation before rehearsals started for the upcoming show.
One girl in particular, Olivie Ackland, seemed far more interested in telling other girls about her visit than learning her ballet steps. Whenever they were given a moment, she and her friends dived into conversation. Christine felt slightly hurt that her own best friend, Meg, was a part of the group.
"My papa says we are going to go see my aunt!" exclaimed Olivie, waving her hands around excitedly. "You should see her house! It's huge! She has two horses and I get to ride one!"
Christine tried her best to ignore the jealous feeling that crept up upon her. She directed her attention back to Madame Giry, who was busy teaching a new seven-year old the ballet positions. From behind her the talking didn't stop even when Madame Giry attempted to start the lesson back up again.
"I'll try to see if my aunt will let you visit, Meg. We'll have so much fun! I…"
"Olivie!" exclaimed Madame Giry, banging her cane against the floor for emphasis. Everyone jumped and the room became silent as Madame Giry continued her little tirade. "And you too, Meg! You'll have plenty of time to socialize later!" Christine paled as her ballet teacher pointed the cane toward her. "Christine doesn't seem to have a problem paying attention. Why do you?"
Christine felt like shrinking into a corner. Why did Madame Giry have to point her out of the crowd? There were plenty of other girls who had been patiently waiting as well. She could feel the girls' eyes glaring into her. Even as Madame Giry continued the lesson she heard them speak.
"It's because she's too dumb to talk."
Christine's hands formed tight fists and tears flooded her eyes. She wasn't dumb! She wasn't!
As soon as the lesson ended, Christine was prepared to race upstairs and to the dormitories. However, hearing her named mentioned stopped her. After what had happened during the lesson, she was almost afraid to listen to what they had to say.
"She doesn't go anywhere because her parents died," said Meg's voice, in a matter-of-fact tone. Christine felt her eyes burn at her friend's sudden betrayal. "She doesn't have any family."
"Not anyone?" asked one of the ballet girls, turning to look at Christine. Christine quickly looked away and pretended to be occupied with taking off her shoes. She bit her lip to keep herself from bursting out into tears.
"No one," continued Meg, unaware of Christine's suffering.
"She has to have someone." chimed in the new seven-year old student - no doubt in an attempt to feel part of the group. "Everyone has someone to love them. My mama told me that."
Olivie sneered. "No one loves Christine Daae."
Christine couldn't take it anymore. She turned around, daring to look at the small group of girls. Meg seemed to be the only one feeling sorry for their words.
"That's not true!" said Christine, a tear dropping from her eye and rolling down her cheek. "I have a lot of people!"
"Like who?" asked Olivie.
Christine hesitated. Her angel! She had her angel of music! Her mouth opened to tell them but she quickly shut it. Her angel had forbidden her to speak of him to anyone.
"I…I have Madame Giry," said Christine, thinking of how Madame Giry had been the one to bring her to the Opera House. She was the one that looked after her and made sure she had everything she needed. That meant something, right?"
"That only counts for Meg," said Olivie. "Teachers don't count otherwise."
Christine suddenly felt rather stupid for standing in front of them. She couldn't think of anyone else who liked her. She certainly couldn't say Meg after what she had told the girls. Tears poured from Christine's eyes as she turned around and quickly left. Did that make her a bad person? That no one liked her? That she had no one to love her?
When Christine reached her dormitory she sat down on her cot and cried until she couldn't bring forth anymore tears.
Two days later and the Opera House was nearly empty. There were no lessons going on or rehearsals taking place. Christine had watched the other girls being picked up by their parents or entering carriages. How she wished she was one of them! She wished she had someone to go home to. The feeling of loneliness didn't escape her as she climbed the stairs to an abandoned dressing room. There was only one thing she was looking forward too and that was more lessons with her angel.
Wiping away any trace of tears in her eyes, Christine pushed open the door to the dressing room. When she had first been in there it had been stuffy and dusty. Her angel had promised that he would get it tidied up. Sure enough, the room had been spotless by their next lesson together.
Christine stood in the center of the room and waited for her beloved angel to speak to her. She smiled slightly when his melodious voice, the voice she loved to hear more than any other, graced her ears.
Their lessons together were usually only an hour. Her teacher promised to make them longer when she was older and her voice was more mature. Christine usually didn't argue with her teacher but she felt compelled to today when he announced they had done enough. She didn't wish to leave the comfort of her angel's voice and depart back into the cold, silent Opera House.
"Could we please continue our lesson a bit longer, angel?" asked Christine, careful not to appear to ask too much. She waited nervously for her angel's reply.
"You know what we agreed on, my dear," came the reply. Unwillingly, Christine's eyes filled up with tears at the rejection.
"Please, angel!" she begged, clasping her hands together. "Just for today? Please?"
The voice seemed to admit a sigh. He seemed reluctant to leave himself but knew the need for discipline "No, angel." There was a short pause in his speech. "Why are you crying, my dear? Does the thought of ending our lesson distress you so much?"
Christine immediately brushed away the tears from her eyes. She shook her head.
"No. Well…yes, but…!"
Her teacher cut her off with a sad sort of chuckle. "Is that a 'yes', my dear?"
Christine looked toward the ground, nodding slowly. She didn't know why she should be so embarrassed by that. Her angel knew very well that she loved their lessons together.
"I wish our lessons could go on longer," continued her angel's voice. "But you know my rule. Not until you are older."
Christine nodded, casting her red-rimmed eyes toward the ground. Suddenly she looked up.
"Angel?" she asked, shyly.
"Yes?"
"Do you love me?"
There was silence. Christine waited for the reply - hoping against all hope that he would say 'yes'. She just wanted to know someone loved her. She wanted to know she was not alone.
"Angels are told to love all humans, Christine," came her angel's reply. His voice seemed slightly shaky, as if uncertain. That answer wasn't enough for Christine. She shook her head.
"But do you love me in a special way?" she asked, so very innocently.
There was another silence. From somewhere in the distance, Christine could swear she heard someone or something breathing heavily.
"Why these questions, Christine?"
Christine's heart sank when he didn't answer her question. She stared at the carpet, mumbling something.
"Speak up, my dear."
Christine looked up at her angel's voice. This time tears were pouring from her eyes. When she spoke, her voice was choked with sobs.
"Olivie says no one loves me!" she sobbed. "Because I don't have any family. And what's worse is that it's true!" She sank to the ground and covered her face with her hands. Her cries echoed through the room. "It's true! It's true!"
Through her sobs came her angel's voice. Christine never heard it so welcoming and comforting. It seemed to wrap around her like a warm blanket.
"Hush, child," her angel said. He seemed to hesitate for a moment as if he was searching for the right words. That confused Christine. He was an angel. Didn't that mean he always knew what to say and do? "Your parents up in heaven love you very much, Christine. They don't want you to forget it. And I…" He paused for a moment before taking a deep breath. "I love you too, Christine."
Through the red eyes and the tears, a smile graced Christine's face. A wide, hopeful smile that seemed to light up the room. Her angel loved her. That was all that mattered. She would never have to be alone with her angel there.
"Really angel?"
"Yes, my dear."
Christine stood back up - the smile never leaving her face. If her angel took a human form she would have hugged him and kissed him. It was so long since she had given someone a loving hug. In fact, her father had been the last one to give her a good-night kiss and a hug. Mme. Giry's motherly embrace didn't count. She only hugged Christine when she was mourning the death of her dear father.
"You better be going now, Christine," said her angel. His voice had returned to its former strength and authority. "Be here tomorrow at the usual time."
Christine said her goodbye and practically skipped to the door. Before she closed it behind her, she turned back.
"Angel?"
"Yes, my child?"
Christine smiled widely at her angel, wherever he was.
"I love you too."