A/N: Well, as a little humorous side project off of As the Petals Fall, I'm writing another phic. Yet, this is into the mind of our lovely Meg. Now, this is going to follow the events at a certain opera house, but in the eyes of Meg. This is completely modern (I seem to be doing modern all the time..hmm…o well). I'm actually really enjoying this phic so far, inspiration I must admit from Shopoholic by Sophie Kinsella, so bits and pieces should be expected! Anyways, hope you guys enjoy! (Also, the setting starts out in England)

.heart.angel.93

Disclaimer: I don't own POTO. (Or Shopoholic for that matter. I only own the story. Yeah. Actually, don't hold me to that. I'm broke as it is. But...i think I do own it. Yeah.)

Don't Panic.

Never should one panic. No. I'm not panicking. Whoever said I was panicking? Nah, I'm completely, souly-

Oh god. There he is. Oh god. Oh GOD.

I look around the small cafe and catch my reflection in a small marbled mirror. Okay, I don't look awful. Actually, I look pretty professional. My hair is curled into soft curls

and I'm wearing those expensive earrings I got in February with Christine. I look like I could conquer the world. Okay scratch that. I'm trying for a part, not the world.

"Miss Giry?" The man smiles at me, and as I nod we shake hands.

"Nice to have finally meet you Mr.-" Oh god, I forgot his bloody name...think Meg think! "Ritcliff." I hear myself saying.

Unknown of the presence of lost words from me, he continues to take off his coat and takes a seat in front of me.

Just then a waiter comes in like she's been waiting for this all her life, a grin on her oval face.

"Can I offer anyone something to drink?"

"Just some green tea please." I smile back to Mr. Ritcliff, as he raises an eyebrow. After she scuttles away and back with our drinks does he really talk.

"Green tea?" He shakes his head and chuckles some, taking a sip of his gin and tonic.

"Yes," I finish stirring the drink and blow off some steam. "It's a relaxing drink." Oh god. Did I just hint at being nervous? Like I needed something to be calm?! Isn't that one of the things your not suppose to say at a meeting? Oh god, oh god, good job Meg. Next thing you know, your going to be saying "just to get the jitters off" and chug a whole bottle of wine.

"Miss Giry, we are quite impressed by your tapes." His face has now gone serious. Did I miss something? I thought we were talking about tea...

"Really?" I try to sound nonchalant, but I can't help but smile.

"Yes," He looks up from his drink to face me. "Actually we would love to see you perform sometime." With that, he brings up his briefcase and propped it up on the small table as I'm left to gaze at the sleek surface.

Oh god. He wants me to perform! Like that! Just by seeing me drink green tea and my file! I'm too happy to question it, which any proper business person would do. But I'm not. No, actually my only agent is my friend Suzy, who found this company because of Christine. So, technically, I think I should be bouncing off the wall from being so happy, I think at least…

He wants to see me dance. Not just a measly little 'call' back from the office, or another interview or any other "crap" as Suzy calls it.

Oh god, this could be my big break. Okay Meg. Get your head around this. Just TRY to listen to what he's saying.

"-we have this program that we will offer to our-" He is starting to drone on, and I'm not completely following. See, I'm kinda off in my own little world, see? See, I'm thinking of performing like long ago, and being able to actually pay off some of those nasty Credit bills, and send those cruel letters back to the bank. And finally! After all those years of practice...Mum is going to flip!

"-the program is a very enriching program which-" He is still droning on about this program. What program? Oh god. What if he asks? What if he asks what I know of logistics on the program?! Oh god! Wait. He won't just randomly ask that. People don't do things like that.

Maybe its like a holiday program! Or a costume arts program! Or, or! Oh god. He's staring right at me. What was he talking about?! Oh god. Don't mess this up! Think Meg!! Okay.. program...something to do with travelling..enriching...sounds good, right?

"Of course I have been listening intently, but, er, can you just sum up the last part?" I smile. In the most simple way you can please? I silently beg. He looks at me, a little confused for a moment, then pulls out a brochure and hands it to me.

"Miss Giry, what I've been saying is that, we've been hiring young people with potential talent to come do our shows-"

Okay I know that part.

"But,-"

I hate 'buts'.

"We would like to send our new co-workers on a program to be more enriched in the art, more educated. We were thinking of heading to Paris to study. Of course we are planning to do some Opera sooner or later in the Theatres life, and we were hoping to learn some new tactics. The managers these days don't know what to chose honestly.." The last part he says is barley over a whisper, in a muttering tone.

I stare at the leaflet. Is this for real? Paris. Freakin, bloody Paris! I look at him trying to seem calm and nonchalant.

"You mean, if I get into The Royal Elizabeth Theatre, then...I'll be going to Paris..?" I ask in disbelief.

He shrugs as though this is all normal for him. Ha. Normal!

"You see Miss Giry, I don't think it is a matter of 'if'." He leans in closer, and I feel myself follow suite. "We don't usually meet people we don't think we will hire. Usually when a meeting is called, it is to conclude our feelings. The performance is usually the last bit of the process." He takes a swig of his drink. "Miss Giry, I don't think you realize, but that dance of yours, it could really go places. And this program-"

Oh god. I'm going to Paris. Oh god. Oh GOD.

Now its official, I'm always going to listen to every little detail someone says now on!

Okay, I lied. As I see him walk out the café door, I have to admit I didn't listen to every little detail…who would? All the boring stuff, like insurance-I'll stop there. Mostly because I stopped there too…Well, that's beside the point. As I leave a tip on the table I chug my newly ordered latte and grab my pea coat. Waving goodbye to the waiter, I push open the door with a brightened attitude and step out into the glorious happy day it should be.

The only problem is, there are no birds singing, no sing song music, no sunshine of happiness. Only rain. Rain. Isn't that suppose to be ironic or something? Trying not to seem put out, I grab my cell, while balancing my half gone latte in the other hand.

"Christine?"

"Meg! I was about to call you! But I didn't want to interrupt the meeting. So, how was it?!" Her beautiful voice fills my ears. Really. She does have a beautiful voice.

"Omg Christine! It was bloody amazing! I got it! And I'm going to Paris!"

"That's amazing Meg! Really great!" I squint out at the rain, and duck under the flap entrance of the café, avoiding a collision with a couple.

"Hey, but wouldn't you be going to Paris as well?" I ask curiously. Christine is already at the theatre. Actually, she convinced Suzy who convinced me to join.

There is silence on the other end on the phone.

"Christine. Did you know?"

"Well….I knew most members were going. I didn't know, they were practically handing out the trip…"

"Oh. Well. They are, see."

"I can see that."

"Yeah, wait. This means were going to France. Paris. Together." It suddenly hits me.

What am I going to wear?

Oh god. What am I going to do?! I have…

I look down at the program and paper that Mr. Ritclid or Mr. Ritcliffe or whatever his name was, shoved in my hands. Scanning it a smile breaks out on my face.

"Oh god Christine. Were going to PARIS."

"Meg. Meg. Its for the theatre remember? Don't get carried away here…" I can hear the concern in her voice. Why would she be concerned about me? OK, so last time we went on a trip to Scotland…I went… a little overboard. But hello! This is Paris France were talking about!

You know, Christine can be such a bummer sometimes. So logical in everything. Seriously, if she wasn't my flatmate, or means of something like a sister, or that she has an amazing voice, I would think she would be a lawyer. Not the kind that are dull and boring, she's just kinda…I don't know. I'm not a lawyer so I wouldn't know what there like. But, she just…seems like one.

"Christine. Do you not understand?! Were going to Paris. PARIS. The place of the French! The place of shopping and hot accented men!"

Oh god. The men. I could die right now. Do you know that accented men are the best? I haven't actually heard a French accented guy….yet. But, I hear they are quite sexy…

"Meg. Just….try not to go overboard OK?"

See what I mean by a bummer?

"….No comment." I catch I glimpse of a cab from the corner of my eye and I try to flag it. "Anyways, Mum said that she would be over tonight, you know. She doesn't seem to want to leave us alone…"

"Oh really? What time? I'm making Alfredo, and there's more then enough-"

"Oh! No, really its fine." I force some shrill laughter as I get a cab and crawl in, unfortunately spraying water onto my new jacket.

See, it's not like I don't like my mother, but honestly, I can't wait to leave…away from her. Now I know, she taught me everything I know, everything a mother should be…taking in Christine when her father passed away...the whole thing. But let's be frank. She still listens to a group from the seventies…and god knows what else. She's a charming person, really. Just, after about twenty four years of living with her…you tend to want to get on with your life. Yet Christine, loves her till the end of means. Which is proving to be difficult to, you know, actually separate us from Mum…

"Oh common Meg," I can hear the faint buzz of EastEnders start to come over the phone, as I can imagine Christine lying down, with a cup of tea in her hand. " or Marguerite?" She adds in playfully.

God I hate that name. That's what my mother calls me. Marguerite. Which reminds me of something French, which I think I actually might have originated from…so basically going to France is like…oh god!

Its destiny!

Now, what shoes would destiny wear?

"I've got to go Christine. Sorry, met you back at the flat okay? Fivish?"

"Fivish? It's only…two o'clock…..Meg..?"

"…Yeah, but I have some…errands to do." I quickly flip my phone off and stare out the window letting go a big breath. Excitement is tingling at my toes as we approach the shops.

Oh God, this is fun.

A/N: Really had fun writing the first chapt. Tell me what you think! R&R! Thanks!

.heart.angel.