Imperial Opera House

Christine nodded. "Although Don Juan was fun to get together, I've always wanted to be in Phantom of the Opera. I apparently was named after Christine."

Tom nodded thoughtfully, making a mental note of that information. "In my spare time, in my university years, I was the Phantom in Phantom of the Opera and many more roles, including Frankenstein and his monster. The best part of around 9 years was spent doing something I loved, singing and acting. I have no time for it now, though."

"You should make time." Christine said softly. "Doing the things we love gives us the courage to face the next day. At least, that's wha j believe."

"I must do my job, and I like my job. I have a house and pets to maintain and a brother to spend time with, so I do not have time. I make time for them instead."

"I guess that's the difference between me and you. You have family and a house. I have cast members and a hotel room." she said softly.

Tom nodded and leaned on his staff, looking around the room.

Christine couldn't help but admire Tom. He was much braver than she was.

"Miss Romo!" a voice boomed, causing Christine to jump slightly and turn. She forced a smile and the man that walked towards her. "Monsieur D'Orléan! What a pleasant surprise!" she said. "Have you met Monsieur Whittaker?" she said, looking at Tom.

Tom held out his hand for the other to shake.

The said man shook Tom's hand firmly. "Mr. Whittaker." is all the rather large man said. He turned his attention to Christine. "Beautiful performance as always, my dear."

Christine tightened her grip on Tom's arm slightly. "Thank you." she said softly.

"Mr. D'Orléan." Tom replied, then stepped back to observe him.

Mr. D'Orléan nodde at the two before he went to talk to someone else.

"That man terrifies me." Christine laughed.

"Why?" Tom enquired.

"He's just.. There. And he's got this big voice." Christine smiled lightly.

"I'm here. I can have a big voice."

Christine looked at Tom. "I could almost take that as mocking, monsieur."

Tom raised an eyebrow, leaning back on the wall.

Christine held her hands in front of her. "You said you had a brother?"

"Yes, I did." Tom nodded.

"Blood brother?" she asked.

Tom shook his head. "I was adopted. I never knew my parents."

Christine looked down. "Neither did I." she sad quietly. "So you and him were close?"

Tom sighed. She wanted the truth, she'd get the truth. "No. We never got along. He's around six months older than me. My so called parents treated me like dirt and Chris picked up on it. It never really went anywhere until when we went to school. He billed me and beat me up, my parents never saying a word because I was so different. I got into a freak accident and then they kicked me out. I managed to find a camp and lived there for six or so years until he came as well.  But we've made up now, but I still haven't made contact with the parents since I was nine and they kicked me out." Tom shrugged st the rend of his tale.

Christine listened to his story and didn't know how to react. She felt like she should hug him, but thought that wasn't the best idea. "That's terrible..." was all she could think to say.

Tom shrugged. "I got over it."

"It's good that you two made up." she said.