Authors Note: Hello. Well I said I would get around to writing another multi-chapter thing and it looks like I have. Yes, it's another AU (haha!), set in the real world where everyone is older and has no powers! Its also loosely (and I mean loosely) inspired by a Brit TV drama called NY-LON, which had a killer soundtrack... Also, thanks to everyone who reviewed 'Car Trouble', I won't do shout outs here but you know who you are and you're all lovely. Anyway, I hope you like this fic, I'll let you get on with reading it now…enjoy
Music When The Lights Go Out
Chapter One (Something about art)
Remy Lebeau was rudely awoken by the shrill ring of the telephone, which was happily trilling away beside his bed. Groaning and rubbing his eyes, he rolled over, entangling himself in his bed linen and picked up the receiver.
"What?" he almost barked. In his opinion, it was too early to be polite.
"Remy my friend I have good news!" came the reply in the unmistakeable Russian accent of his friend Piotr.
"It ain't dat Remy don' like hearin' from y' mon ami, but did y' have t' call so early?"
"It is 10 o'clock, which is not that early. Besides, I would have thought that a business man such as yourself would have been up with the lark, as you say."
"Not on a Sunday homme…" Ignoring that, the Russian continued with his previous train of conversation, namely, his exciting news.
"I have finally found a gallery in which to display my work!" Remy sat up in bed. That really was good news. Piotr had been looking for an art gallery to take on some of his paintings for months and months.
"Congratulations mon ami, tell me all about it."
"The other day a woman rang me up, said she ran a small art gallery in Greenwich Village and had seen some of my work and would like to meet me…So I met her and now she wishes me to have my own exhibition."
"Didn't Remy tell y' dat y' were destined fo' great t'ings?"
He heard Piotr softly chuckle down the line. Remy had never heard him this animated, usually the stoic Russian barely said two words.
"So shall I see you at the exhibition opening?"
"O' course, wouldn't miss it fo' de world. When and where?"
"Next Friday at 7 and I shall send you some directions, I look forward to seeing you."
"Y' t' Petey, see y' den, au reviour."
Remy hung up the phone and slumped back down into the comfort of his bed.
- - - - -
True to his word, Piotr had sent Remy some very detailed directions on how to get to the art gallery. Unfortunately for Remy, he had had a business meeting that had overrun and was a little over an hour late already. The clock was ticking.Rounding another corner, he found himself outside a small building that boasted a banner saying:
Exhibition Opening: The Work of Piotr Nikolaiovitch Rasputin'Least I know I got de right place' Remy thought as he bounded up the steps and pushed open the wooden double doors.
Inside, the sounds of soft music and conversation filled the air. A lot of people had turned up. The small white room was filled with people but it didn't take Remy long to pick out Piotr among the throng of people. At well over six foot tall and built like a house, he stood out badly like a candle in a dark room and now he was standing in a corner with his sister Illyana, good-naturedly making conversation with strangers.
The gallery was filled with students and the kind of people who were notorious for spending a huge amount on works of art but not actually knowing or appreciating what they were buying.
He walked around the edge of the room and browsed Piotr's work. He had seen most, if not all of these before. They had spent an awful lot of time cluttering up Piotr's apartment to the point where it became hard to move around in there. It had been pointed out to him that it might be a fire hazard before he had found some proper storage for them in a warehouse downtown.
He stopped for a little while and listened to a pretentious woman, with an Australian accent and a black hat talk about the artists "obvious inner torment" before raising an eyebrow and slowly backing away from her.
It was then that he saw her. She was standing talking animatedly with a group of people, a glass of wine in hand, gesturing at the work on the walls.
His eyes trailed up her long legs, half hidden by a black knee length skirt to her shapely hips and slim stomach, hugged by a black v-neck sweater. He allowed his eyes to linger perhaps a little too long on her breasts and the ends of the hunter green chiffon scarf that was tied around her neck. Her skin was so pale and her beautiful face was covered in a little more make up than Remy would have liked but her emerald green eyes shone out of her thick black eyeliner like stars in the night sky. Her auburn hair was tied back into a ponytail, with curious yet completely unique white bangs falling down to frame her face.
Without taking his eyes off her, although she didn't even notice that he had entered the room, he walked over to Piotr who was busy entertaining his guests.
"Bonjour mon ami," Remy greeted him warmly.
"Ahh Remy my friend, it is good to see you." Piotr shook Remy's hand a little too firmly.
"And bonjour Yana," Remy smiled at Piotr's little sister, who blushed crimson but beamed back at him.
"Y' did well Piotr, everyone seems t' like y' work non? Dough if y' were feelin' sad y' shoulda said somet'in' t' Remy instead o' jus' pourin' it int' y' work."
The Russian looked at him blankly; clearly unsure as to what on earth Remy was talking about now. Remy thought it best to clarify.
"The femme in de bowler hat over dere," he said, pointing to the opinionated art critique. "She was going on about y' inner torment in dat paintin'."
Piotr just smiled. "Remy, it is just some old things I found lying around in my apartment, there was no sadness…maybe a little boredom."
Remy just laughed and intercepted one of the waiters that were going around in order to get himself a drink before turning back to his friend.
"Petey, y' never told Remy dere would be femmes as belle as dat at dis openin'."
"I don't know what you mean…"
"Her…" Remy slyly pointed, making sure that he wasn't too open about it, at the stripy haired beauty of before.
"Oh her," Piotr said bluntly, almost dismissingly, before turning back to Remy, seeing the look he had in his eye, a look he had seen too many times before. "Oh no Remy, please do not do what I think you are planning to do."
"An' why not Petey? Do y' like her?"
"I did not mean it like that. That is Rogue Darkholme; she owns this gallery and has so kindly given my work a home."
"So…"
"So…I do not mean to be harsh my friend, but I know what will happen, you will go out, you will end up in bed, you will leave before she wakes up, you will not call her. You have done it many times before."
Remy was shocked. He had never heard Piotr say anything like that before!
"Well maybe Remy surprise y' non?"
"All I wish to say is that I would like to remain friends with her, especially after she has been so good to me, please do not ruin that by breaking her heart."
"For y' Petey, I promise t' let her down gently."
Piotr closed his eyes and shook his head knowing that it was inevitable. Remy was a born flirt and womaniser, he would never change.
"Fine, then at least do it properly and let me introduce you, create a good first impression."
"Good t'inkin' mon ami, lets go."
And so, unable to delay the unavoidable any longer, they pushed their way through the crowd of art lovers towards the newest object of Remy's desire. Piotr just hoped this one end too badly…
Oh my my my…a slippery slope? Probably.
Another thing! For other stuff I've written that I'm not really sure about putting here yet, please go and look in my livejournal, the link is in my profile. The first chapter of the sequel to OMSitS is there…you have been warned!
Please review and tell me what you thought! I have nothing to offer you but my undying gratitude and love, but I'm hoping that will be enough ;-)