Some of you might be familiar with my Modern Day Phantom AU through my tumblr (in which case, hi again!). If not, it's a pretty straight forward ALW musical based story set in Modern Day NYC/The Met Opera. Updates will not be in chronological order (they're a lot like snapshots of moments or events in the character's lives as the story we're familiar with moves forward) and generally vary in length. A link to the artwork, costume design and background information for the story is in my profile!
Christine had been moving around in a daze since the opening night of Il Muto three weeks ago, still in shock over what had happened. She never could have imagined that her Angel of Music could be capable of murder, and yet Buquet's lifeless body dangling from the rafters had been enough to fuel her nightmares almost every single day. She woke up in cold sweats so often that Meg had taken it upon herself to move into her bedroom and Raoul onto the couch in the living room, despite it being almost a head too short for him to stretch out comfortably. Yet he kept guard faithfully over both Christine and Meg, hoping it could at least give her enough peace of mind to get any sleep at all.
After the curtain call on the closing night of Il Muto, Christine sat alone in her dressing room, her dresser having hung the bulky lavender Countess costume on the rack for the last time and rolled it out of the room for storage. She took down her pincurls and raked her fingers quickly through her hair, settling the wayward twists. As she carefully blotted at her make up with the wipes, she heard a knock on her door.
"Come in!" she welcomed after making sure the belt of her robe was secured. Raoul burst through the door excitedly, his face obscured by a large bouquet of assorted pastel flowers, having been careful to avoid roses. She took them from his arms and gave him a quick peck on the cheek, glancing around her dressing room to try and find a place for more flowers.
"Beautiful as always, darling. Absolutely beautiful."
'Thank you, Raoul," she replied, sounding rather tired. The rest of the cast would be having a small get together to celebrate a successful run, but Christine didn't feel up to it. Especially not when she knew there had been whispers about her ever since the incident with the Opera Ghost. She knew she had earned her place at the Met through her own skill and determination, so it had been no skin off her back when her relationship with Raoul hit the gossip columns, but being associated with something so heinous and gruesome as a murder was too much. Looking at the dark circles under her eyes, she saw the exhaustion taking its toll. "Is it wrong that I don't want to go to the party? They're my friends and colleagues… but I just don't think I could handle it."
"I was hoping you'd say that!" Christine threw him a scandalized look, a small smile tugging at her lips and Raoul flushed. "No, let me rephrase… I asked you a few weeks ago to come away with me, just get away from here for as long as you needed. And you said you had to stay to finish the show. So now the show is over and I'm asking again… let's go, tonight." She had begun to shrug off her silk robe, picking up the dress thrown over the back of her chair.
"Where are we going?" Christine relented, turning around and picking up her long hair for Raoul to help her with the zipper.
"It's a surprise!"
"Well, I need to pack, don't I?"
"And ruin the spontaneity of it all?"
"And have completely realistic expectations of preparations that need to be made for travelling? Like my toothbrush. And clothes. And maybe a sweater, if I knew where I was going."
"…okay fine, I told Meg where we're going already packed for you," Raoul finally admitted. "But you do realize I have an American Express Black Card right? We could just new clothes. Or just a new toothbrush. You know, whatever you want."
A few minutes after the pilot announced that they would be getting ready to land, Raoul stood up to grab something from their luggage, returning with Christine's favorite red scarf.
"It might be a little windy when we touch down," he handed her the scarf, which she wrapped around her shoulders.
"Raoul… so help me, if your idea of a romantic getaway is this plane landing in the middle of Antarctica, we're going to have words," she teased, her eyes almost sparkling in the dim lighting. He was relieved that even just several hours on a plane seemed enough to rouse her from the general state of melancholy and constant worry she had been in for the last few weeks.
"We're not going to Antarctica. Although I did spend some time there and I can personally attest to how romantic it is."
Christine sat back against the leather-upholstered chair, putting her hand on Raoul's as the aircraft began its descent.
Raoul noticed that Christine seemed more relaxed than she had in weeks, most of the tension finally draining from her shoulders when the plane took off. He knew that she had spent the last three weeks feeling unsafe and terrified not only for her own safety but his, and he had been able to send a car to take her and Meg home every night, but she still extremely anxious.
He had hoped that he was doing the right thing by offering to take her as far away from it all as possible and any concerns about his plan were finally alleviated in that moment, feeling Christine's slender hand clasping his and he looked over to see her smiling peacefully. Had she looked out the window, she might have seen the slightest silhouette of the Parisian skyline as they made their way to Brittany.
Christine and Raoul walked in silence along a quaint uneven road, their isolation punctuated only by a few kids running through the street shouting excitedly in French, with Christine only able to make out a few words from the short time she had spent in the country.
"We've been walking for fifteen minutes now, are you going to tell me where we are or do I have to start deducing?"
"You could do that…" Raoul replied, hardly able to contain his excitement, wondering if his grin had somehow already ruined the surprise.
"Okay, the taxi driver spoke French. The signs are in French. The locals speak French… clearly we're in Argenti…" Christine trailed off, at a complete loss for words when she realized exactly which part of France they were in.
They had stopped right by a cliff overlooking a calm French sea, the wind less harsh than it had been that fateful day almost ten years ago. The day she had met Raoul for the first time, she was just a little girl running through the sand on a very windy day, having gotten bored of sitting at her father's side while he played the violin for the tourists. It had been the same routine for months and even at 10 years old, she tired quickly of doing the same thing every day. Several older boys kicked around a soccer ball a few yards away. A gust of wind blew in, dragging her loosely draped scarf into the water. She hardly had time to curse how careless she had been with her mother's scarf when one of the teenage boys flew past her, almost a blur as he ran to dive into the water swimming in swift broad strokes before reaching the scarf where it had been deposited by the wind and turning back.
She was still sitting dumbfounded in the sand when he jogged back to her, almost completely out of breath, but he grinned proudly, holding out the soaked scarf to her.
"I was just fourteen and soaked to the skin…" Raoul's voice from behind brought her out of her reverie.
"Because you had run into the sea to fetch my scarf," she responded, echoing her response to him from the day they had reunited, her voicing breaking slightly from the emotion. Turning to face him, she saw that he had gotten down on one knee with small ring box in his hands.
