'No! No, I can't do it!' the usually sweet, angel-like voice was now filled with anger and irritation. The lady sat back down on her chair, her head in her hands, and she let out a frustrated sigh. 'I'm such a failure.'

Nothing that day had gone right for the lady. First, in the morning, she had slept too late and in her rush she had forgotten to eat anything and she had knocked over a small statue which was from her deceased father, and it had broken. When she finally had got to the Opera Garnier, a storm from that night had knocked over a tree that had crashed into a window of her dressing room, leaving her room in an absolute mess. She was so busy cleaning that she was to late at the rehearsals for the new opera Hannibal, and Miss Giry had given her quite a speech. It endured so long that she again was too late for something, this time for her lesson with her Angel of Music, which hadn't put him in a good mood either. And now she wasn't able to sing that stupid note correctly. Long story short, she was having a shit day, and she felt done with it.

'You're not a failure, you're just not trying hard enough.' Her angel said.

'I am trying as hard as I can, but it's just not good enough! It's to difficult for me, and I'm having not the best day either, so that's not really helpful.' She protested.

'Christine, you can do this, don't just give up. I've heard you sing, I know what you are capable of, trust me. When I say you can do it, you can.' The angel seemed to get more and more irritated. 'So do it.'

Christine stood up, looking around angrily in her room. She usually loved the mystery of not seeing her angel, but this time it annoyed her. 'I'm sorry, angel. But I think you've got the wrong person after all. I'm not as great as you think, I can't be anything more than what I am. So please, don't try to make me any greater than I am, because I can't handle that.' She spoke to the empty room.

It was silent for a moment, when the thunderous voice of the angel sounded through the walls of her room. 'I am not wrong, child! You are holding yourself in, but you shouldn't do that. I know you're not having your day, to be honest your dressing room still looks like an absolute mess, so you were late for nothing at your rehearsals. But when you let your anger out, you will be able to sing this for me. Now, let your anger out, forget it, and sing for me, my angel of music.'

He didn't sound angry, but the poor lady looked scared. What if she wasn't able to do it? How do you let your anger out? She decided she would give it a try, her angel was usually right.

'Come on, don't just stand there, do it!' the angel said impatiently.

Christine tried, but failed again. And again, and again. After that she hopelessly sank back into her chair. 'I'm sorry, angel. I thank you for everything you have thought me, but I think we have to stop it.'

'Oh, stop it! I told you, I am not wrong, you must do this for me!'

Christine, usually so peaceful and calm, felt like she was about to explode. 'Shut it!' she cried angrily, for the first time stepping up against her angel. 'I don't have to do anything for anyone, I have my own life you know, and that means I am the boss of what I am going to do, what I must or mustn't do. So if I want to quit, I will quit!' She was a bit surprised by her angry yelling, but not half as much as her angel was.

She was afraid that she now would lose him, what was the last thing she wanted. They could still talk instead of sing? She loved his company, though he wasn't even really here. Right?

The silence lasted, and Christine let out a tired sigh. He was gone.

But actually, the angel had listened to her in amazement, the love for this beautiful woman was only growing more. He felt another something that he hadn't felt for anyone else before: pity. He had noticed of course that Christine wasn't feeling very well, but he hadn't thought of making her feel better. He felt a bit ashamed, but he would now do it correctly.

After thinking of the right words to say, he said: 'Yes, I- I'm sorry.' Christine looked up surprised, surprised that the angel still spoke to her and hadn't left her, but that her angel sounded so human. 'Let's just stop for today, and maybe go a little back in training to be sure that you have mastered that. You will still be ready in time for Hannibal.'

'Ready, for what? Why am I ready for something for Hannibal?' Christine asks curiously.

'Ehm, nothing.' The angel quickly replied. He had nearly spilled his plan that he had made for her to bring her all the way to the top. 'Why don't you go home now and rest?'

'But what about my room? You said it was still a mess.' Christine questioned.

'Don't worry about that. Go home, rest, and tomorrow we will start again.' Her angel said with a comforting voice, which made the corner of Christine's mouth curl up a bit.

'Thank you, angel.' She stood up and walked to the door. When she laid her hand around the door knob, the angel said her name again.

'Yes?' she asked, looking back into the room like there was someone there.

'Have a good night and sleep well.' The angel said. Her smile broadened and she left the room.

The next day, when she came into her dressing on time, she stood there in the doorway fully surprised. It was cleaned, even neater than before, and on her desk lay a very beautiful new box, like the one from her father. 'Thank you, angel.' She whispered.

She returned home with a very lucky feeling. She had hit that note the first time she tried it.