La Seine - Vanessa Paradis

French

Elle sort de son lit, tellement sur d'elle
La Seine, La Seine, La Seine
tellement jolie elle m'ensorcelle
La Seine, La Seine, La Seine

Extralucide la lune est sur
La Seine, La Seine, La Seine
Tu n'es pas saoul
Paris est sous
La Seine, La Seine, La Seine

English

She's resplendent, so confident,
La Seine, La Seine, La Seine.
I realize I'm hypnotized,
La Seine, La Seine, La Seine.

I hear the moon singing a tune
La Seine, La Seine, La Seine
Is she divine? Is it the wine?
La Seine, La Seine, La Seine

The whole experience had been more nauseating and terrifying than Erik had expected. The cool night air was disturbed by the hundreds of clicking cameras, shouting paparazzi and laughing socialites. He hated it, and was determined to get through the whole experience as soon as possible. He had carefully placed himself near security, where the celebrities appeared to begin their walk down the red carpet, far away from the entrance of the hotel, where the awards were taking place. He could see on the other side of the red carpet, there was a metal barrier which held back the photographers, and the presenters with their cameras. All along the red carpet, all of the photographers were waiting just for him. No doubt this was a field day for them. The disgusting recluse out of his lofty prison. Erik was behind a large leafy plant, that served as a decoration, placed by the start of the red carpet that he had found quite useful. He had his back to the cameras, but they were all trained on him, and he couldn't help but clench his hands in frustration. His gloved hand raised up and tried to adjust the mask, as he found it rubbing on his cheeks, and he shot a cursory glance over to Nadir, who was talking to some dim witted man about his music, and who were both stood in open view. He observed both of their suits, and finally looked down at his own. It was fine, specially tailored for him, which was a requirement of all of his clothes as he was so unnaturally thin, and he wore black leather gloves to match. He wore the same black suit and tie as both men, and saw there was no obvious difference between them. The man Nadir spoke to was of average height and weight, whereas Erik was tall and thin. He could almost pretend that was no difference between them at all. If only it wasn't for his mask.

Erik cursed to himself as a redhead appeared and proceeded to wrap her arm around the man's, and cooed to him to join her, standing so she was in full sight of the cameras. Ah yes, that was why they were so different, after all. Women. The noisy creatures that they were avoided him like the plague, and he preferred it that way! They were all money grabbing little vipers that would stick their hands in men's pockets and run away when it pleased them. There were one or two that he could admire, a few women throughout the history of mankind who stuck out from the rest of the human race, but the women that surrounded him now were the ones he truly loathed. They were a pathetic imitation of what beauty should look like. Women were so beautiful without their make-up and their dresses, why did they feel the need to cut and remold their faces and bodies to improve themselves? But he couldn't blame them, if there was a surgery to take away his disgusting features then he would do it too. These imposters were so certain of their beauty that he both hated, and was jealous of, the women who were attending the awards on the arms of 'dashing' men, and of the men that got to take them. The mask had been the real reason why he hated people. Or at least, it was covering the reason why. He had been horrifically deformed since birth, and had been labelled a monster in his hometown. In this day and age, he was still stunned that people still had so much hate in them. He had spent his early childhood hiding in his mother's house, who had loathed him, but then he had been forced into the outside world, where pain, hate and anger greeted him like a welcome friend. There had been no love for Erik, and he believed there never would be. He would never be a normal man, with a wife and child (and how he did long for both!), no person would ever look on him with love, and he would never know the touch of another willing person.

He watched the redhead nonetheless, watching the way her skin pressed against the man's suit, how close her lips were to his ears and the sultry look in her eyes once the man had said his goodbyes to Nadir and had given a terrified nod to Erik. She gave Erik a bored glance, gulping at the realization that he had been watching her, and then walked away with the man. Erik watched after her, feeling jealousy and hate rise up in him, but it left as Nadir's calming touch came in the form of a hand on his shoulder.

"Do not hate him, Erik. You do give a terrifying first impression. You never said a word to him, you hardly paid any attention, so you can't blame him for being a bit scared."

Erik turned to look at Nadir, amazed that Nadir had come to that conclusion, and watched for a moment as Nadir's eyes darted about Erik's mask, searching for some form of emotion, Erik supposed, but it was pointless. Nadir was so clueless. Why didn't he just look at the eyes?

"Can we just get this over with?" Erik hissed, clenching and unclenching his hands. "This is humiliating enough and I suspect they have enough pictures of me now."

It had only been a few minutes since they had arrived and Erik had tried to keep to the shadows as much as he could, but there was were none to be found when there were dozens of flashing lights aimed towards him, and Nadir kept elbowing him in the back to step forward. He gritted his teeth. This wasn't how he wanted to spend his evening. He wanted to stay in his apartment and just focus on his music. This was a nightmare to him, and he wondered how he had ever gotten into this mess. Perhaps it was because he trusted Nadir, which was saying a lot as he trusted no-one. He wouldn't have trusted Nadir either, had it not been for the fact that Nadir had saved his life a long time ago. Nadir should have left him to die, and Erik would have thanked him for it, but for some reason, Nadir had seen something good in Erik and had decided to spend his life as Erik's constant companion. Watching over him as a faithful ally. Or a concerned guard. Which was ironic. When it had been discovered that Erik was a brilliant musician, Nadir had announced himself to be his new manager, which was the way it had been for the last few years. Nadir took over his other businesses, as Erik had a wealthy empire, built of architectural firms, hotels, many investments, and he had a number of loyal henchmen across the world, ready to do his command. He had a lot of hands in a lot of pots, so to speak, and he had everyone under his thumb. It was the only way he could stay safe. Despite the power, despite everything, he still could not make someone look at him without flinching in horror, even when he had the mask on. He was not known to be polite, and it had earned him a reputation amongst the other celebrities of him being rather standoffish. Many of them couldn't understand his behavior, and he was an outcast even amongst them. He had worked with more than a few of them, but he never met them. If for any reason, he was required to speak with them, he did it over the phone, or let Nadir handle it. They all got on so much better with Nadir. They didn't fear a man they could look in the eye. Erik was sure that Nadir only felt pity for him, and Erik couldn't blame him. Who would ever feel anything other than pity for him?

But this wasn't the time or the place to dwell on such things. Right now, he needed to try and relax, while staying as far away from the cameras as he could. He needed to keep his head together, or he wasn't sure what would happen.

"One interview? Please, Erik, you need more publicity, and even just one interview would be great, you just need to-"

"I never agreed to that." Erik stated emotionlessly. He glanced over to the reporters waiting behind the iron dividers. They had calmed down, but still keeping an eye on him, and a few quick bursts of lights and clicks confirmed that they had all taken a few photos. He groaned again, and looked back at Nadir.

"No, but you did agree to come here. And coming here means interacting with the human race. And the human race would like to interact with you too." Nadir replied. It had been a while since Erik had even seen a person other than Nadir, but that didn't mean he wanted to. "It doesn't even have to be a hard interview, just answer a few questions-"

"I should think that by now I know how to answer an interview, God knows you give me one every day." Erik grumbled, adjusting his tie and gloves, before saying to Nadir in an amused tone, "And you never turn up at the right time, you just show up randomly, every day."

"Well, believe it or not Erik, I have a life outside of you. A social life, if you can believe it, and the curse of having a social life is that I like to hang around other people who have a social life, and you do need a social life." Nadir laughed, handing Erik his invite.

Erik stiffened, sensing what Nadir had been implying, and coughed it off, sweeping his clothes clear of any dust and took the invite, placing it in his jacket pocket.

"Go get seated. I will be along momentarily." Erik told him solemnly.

Nadir's eyes widened. "Really? You're going to do this on your own? Wouldn't you rather have me there?-"

"No, I would not. You're too much of a distraction. I shall be fine."

"I'd rather stay with you. You might need me to step in and I should be-" Nadir argued.

"-going and getting us our seats? How marvelous, what a wonderful idea. Go on then, I'll join you shortly."

Nadir furrowed his brow and pursed his lips. "Very well Erik. I hope you know what you're doing."

"I do. Giving myself a chance to humiliate and annoy these damn reporters who insist on knowing everything." Erik grumbled, gazing at them once more.

Nadir shook his head. For years, being the recluse genius that he was, Erik had been persistently dogged by hundreds of reporters and paparazzi, and Nadir had almost come close to help Erik bury a body on a few occasions. No wonder he wanted to watch over him. Erik didn't care; he secretly enjoyed toying with them all. It was a distraction for him, a funny and useful toy for him to play with in-between the music and designs. When he could be bothered with them. There was one that persistently followed him, and he had managed to bring up all kinds of embarrassing stories, about his childhood, and from the few people he interacted with through his businesses. To Erik, it was as though this particular photographer had been born to find Erik without his mask on. He wasn't here tonight, thankfully. He didn't waste his time with stories that everyone else could report.

Nadir shrugged, making sure that Erik could see it. "If you want. Don't let it get too far though. Be friendly, remember, and try not to frighten anyone."

"You say that as though I have any choice in the matter." Erik called as Nadir began to walk away.

"You have more choice than you are led to believe." Nadir called back, strolling over to the hotel's entrance.

Erik shook his head, his back still facing the cameras, and tried to adjust his mask again. It was pulling on his cheeks, rubbing them raw, as he felt carefully around the curls of the mask's hair to see if he could peel it off of his face, which was now stuck. It wouldn't move, and he soon gave up, turning around to present himself to the reporters. The cameras fired off quicker than before, and the reporters had resorted to shouting their questions, reaching out to him as he watched them motionless. The other celebrities who were taking interviews stared at him in silence, looking at each other with wide eyes and open mouths.

They looked like rats to him. All of them. Worthless, shrieking rats that served no purpose other than to spread the plague that they called newsworthy. They weren't really interested in him, but in the mask. He glared at each of their faces, finding only hate boiling in his blood as they stared and gawped and shouted and pleaded. He felt as though he had been in a cage all of this life, and to be paraded amongst these people was a cruel torture. He wanted the freedom to be himself, with no overbearing mother (Alas, Nadir had wilfully stepped into that role), instead of being here, performing for the squealing vermin that they were.

He took only a few steps forward, and stood for a few moments as a space cleared between some of the celebrities. It was so hard to hear anything, the noise was deafening, and it was blinding too. He hardly knew where he was standing. He waited for a few seconds to pass so that the photographers could take their photos, hoping their flashes would stop, and was about to step forward to address a reporter with her cameraman, when something white caught the corner of his eye. It came from his left, and looked more solid than the flashes he was seeing. He turned his head to look, but saw only a mass of blonde ringlets surrounded in white come tumbling, head first, into his path and directly into his arms. He only had a few seconds to collect the small figure in his arms, but it had been falling too fast and crashed into him, causing them both to collapse to the floor. He heard a small gasp as they fell, and instinctively he positioned his body so that the figure would fall on top of him, instead of the hitting the red carpet. He had no clue as to why he would do such a thing, but it had been an immediate reaction.

He lay in silence, the cameras clicking and whirring to get a photo, the celebrities laughing and gasping, but he couldn't see them. He was watching the crown of a girl's head. It was lying on his chest, her face turned away from the cameras. What was the stupid, clumsy girl doing on the red carpet? She definitely didn't belong here, and it was making him look like an idiot! He looked at his hands, and found them grasped firmly around her wrists. He quickly pressed the tips of his fingers to her wrists and was relieved to see her pulse was strong. That meant she could stand at least. He would have dragged her to her feet, but it would have looked bad in front of the cameras. He considered doing it anyway, but before he could decide, she moaned softly, and propped herself up on one arm, turning her head to face him as she still laid on top of him.

"I'm so sorry, I-" Here, she paused, taking in the strangeness of the mask, and to Erik's surprise, continued on apologizing. "I didn't mean to do it! I didn't even see you! I'm not used to walking in heels!"

Erik had listened with a mix of horror, surprise and above all, adoration. Her voice was so charming. It was a British accent, with hints of something else, and it was so quiet and gentle. She had sounded breathless, and he knew it was because of the mask. She was staring at him now, her light blue eyes firmly fixed on the mask's pupils, indirectly looking into his own eyes. It amazed him. She was waiting for a response, unlike Nadir who usually tried to force Erik to speak. Her pink lips were pursed, as though she wanted to ask something, but she was holding herself back. He had still been holding onto her wrists and she had seemed transfixed by him. Her pulse had quickened, and at first he had assumed from shock, but it was still going strong. It felt good to him, to feel her heartbeat. He had never held a woman's wrists before, and they were so soft and warm. Erik quickly let go of them, stunned by his own actions.

What have I done? I'm sorry, I'm sorry. He thought, horrified, as visions of his mother's horrified face appeared before his eyes.

She gently squeezed his shoulder. "Are you okay? I'm so sorry! Hello?" She asked, her eyes widening, and Erik watched the long black lashes rise and fall against her cheeks.

"No, I..." Erik found himself saying and stopped himself suddenly. What am I doing? Who is she? I shouldn't be talking to her. I don't want to. But I do. Look at her, what a fragile creature!

But she was already starting to sit up, and Erik could now see her entire form. She was kneeling beside his reclined form, in a white dress, that glittered gently, and she was sweeping her hands up to get her hair away from her face. Dozens of small golden ringlets fell around her face and down around her chest. She was still watching him, and she smiled at him. But then she saw the camera's flash bounce off of his mask and looked up to the cameras. She suddenly changed, her attitude showing her discomfort, and turned around reaching for him. He squeezed his eyes shut, expecting the worst, but found that she was trying to help him up. He could feel her tiny fingers curl around his arm and she tried to gently force them both up together.

"I'm fine." He replied quietly as he opened his eyes. This angel before him was by far too tempting a treat.

She bowed her head, embarrassed. "I'm sorry." She paused, waiting for a response, but went on to say, "I honestly didn't mean to fall into you like that. They're new shoes, you see. Can I help you get up?" She asked, still holding his arm.

"Yes." He managed to croak out, and watched her as she gathered herself up, balancing herself on her shoes, though she looked unsure about that, and proceeded to lift him up onto his feet.

"My name is Christine Daae." She said, smiling at him.

Damn it, I should have said thank you. Nadir's words rung in his head. In any situation, friendly is good.

"I am Erik." He replied simply, and cursed as he realized that he should have had a last name to give her, and offered her his professional name. "…Destler."

She accepted it nonetheless, and was still holding onto his arm, as though she belonged there. He couldn't help but stare at her. She was beautiful, truly a work of art. A perfectly sculpted face, a graceful neck and a delicate body stood close to him, watching him. She was dressed exquisitely. The dress was modest, sleeveless, and had a tight cotton bodice, which fell down around her ankles. Underneath, there were layers of lace, making her dress puff out more, and beneath the lace, he could see where her strappy shoes looked a little loose.

"You'll trip in those." He mumbled, staring at her feet. He cringed at his own words. How awful did he sound? Of course she was going to trip, she already had, and into him! And why was he talking to her? No woman had ever enticed him to interact with her.

She started to laugh. "I already did."

He watched her, still holding onto him, laughing. He wanted to laugh with her, but it was such a strange experience that he chose instead to observe it. She looked at him, smiling, and saw him watching her back, not joining in with her laughter, and lost the beautiful curve to her lips.

Damn it, now what? I want that smile back. He thought, flexing his fingers as he stared down at her hand on his elbow. It was so small and white, but he found it had a firm grip, until she began to move it away and apologize again.

"I'm sorry, I don't know why I did that." She said, tucking some of her hair behind an ear. "I'm just new to the whole scene. I'm not American, though you can probably tell by the accent."

He nodded, not daring to speak in front of her. She looked around, and her curls bounced as she knelt down to pick up her purse. She swept her large ruffled dress to one side, and raised herself up again, brushing some dust from her purse. She was still standing quite close to him, and she made no motion of moving away from him. Was she waiting for another response?

"Yes, you're British, aren't you?" asked Erik, his whole body tense with fear. What was she doing? What was she waiting for?

"Yes, that's right. I was born in Sweden, but my dad brought me over to England when I was young."

Be friendly, Erik told himself before answering. "I did wonder if I heard a hint of something else."

She shrugged, her eyes locked on him. "I guess, but that's probably because I grew up learning both Swedish and English and had to converse with my dad in both."

There was a pause, as they stood staring at each other. Neither of them spoke. They just stared, and she slowly began to smile. Erik felt uncomfortable, and he instinctively wanted to reach up and adjust his mask. He could feel his entire body burning, and he wanted her to touch him again. He looked up, remembering where they were. She looked up as well, and began to wilt in front of the cameras. He stared down at her.

Poor thing. She's probably never been in front of a camera. Erik wondered. He felt very protective of this girl, and watched her head bob about as she looked at all of the cameras and realized they were directed at them. He couldn't explain it, there was something about the girl that had captivated him. She hadn't recognized him, she didn't seem to react when he had said his name. Perhaps she had never heard of him before? Or perhaps in England, they didn't bother showing any reports on him. He stared up at them, and more flashes went off. This wasn't doing the girl any good, and he bent his head down to whisper in her ear, "Miss Daae, allow me escort you to your table."

She looked up at him, nodded, and saw his newly offered arm. She blushed, and Erik melted once she curled her hand around his arm. It had been a daring move, but it had paid off. He hadn't actually expected her to take his arm, but it had been something he had always wanted to do, to offer his arm to a woman. This girl was heavenly, he thought as they began to walk down the red carpet. Everyone was watching them, and Christine hid her face, blushing as she stared at their arms. The photographers couldn't believe their eyes, and snapped off more shots than Erik could count, their flashes almost blinding him. He walked with her slowly at first, to ensure that she wasn't hurt, which was evident that she wasn't when she began to smile again, and looked up at him.

"Thank you. You needn't, really. I should be able to find it." She whispered as they began to walk past the other celebrities, who all were watching them, snickering to themselves.

No! Erik thought, and tried not to show his alarm. He patted her hand. "That's quite alright; I was on my way in anyhow."

She smiled, and began to ask, "So what do you do? I imagine it can't be something average."

Why would she think that? Erik questioned, and then it dawned on him. Of course, the mask, why else would she think that? She probably thinks I look insane.

"I mean, you're here for a reason, aren't you? You here to support a friend, or receive an award yourself?"

He shook his head, relieved that she hadn't mentioned anything about the mask, and answered, "I'm here to win, or so my manager tells me."

"That's magnificent!" She exclaimed, beaming up at him. "Do you think you will?"

It doesn't matter, I'm just thankful I came. I must remember to buy Nadir a gift of some kind.

"I expect that I shall." He paused, watching her as she continued to walk up the stairs that led to the hotel's entrance. She stopped, turning in her place as she looked at him with a confused expression. They were further away from the cameras and the reporters now, and Erik realized that she would have to leave his side within a few seconds.

He asked her softly, "Do you know who you're sitting with?" He wanted to be sure that he knew where to look when they all sat down. He wanted to be able to observe her.

Christine shook her head. "No, I was with a photo event team and they told me I could give them this invite and they'd give me a seat somewhere. They didn't say where."

She opened her purse and pulled out a white envelope, where Erik could see the invite inside. And on the invite was her name. Christine Daae.

Something rose up in him, something spectacular and filled with hope. He had never felt so terrified in front of a woman, but it was good. He had found himself intrigued by this girl, and she seemed so calm around him. They stared at each other again in silence. She had been smiling, but now looked sad.

"Thank you, you've been so kind, I wasn't expecting it. I hope that we get to sit near each other." She said anxiously.

"I hope that too." Erik answered cordially, but inside, his stomach was twisting with the thought of her sitting close to him. That would be worth the humiliation he felt from their meeting.

She waved, and sadly smiled, before turning to leave him standing a few steps below her. Erik watched her glide away, his back to the cameras, and wished he could have held the hand she had waved to him. He could feel his heart beating fast, and he clutched his chest, rubbing it as he willed himself to calm down. He hoped she would be seated in front of him. His fists clenched at the thought about how the seating arrangements might have meant that they would have given her a seat close to the front, and far away from him. He chuckled to himself, however, pressing his fingertips together in a manic sense of glee, he knew there was a way he could easily have whisked her away to sit at his table. She didn't seem as though she would object too much. He thought of Nadir, and his reaction, but ultimately ignored it. He would be shocked to say the least, but happy, and no doubt gloating would be involved too.

Christine. Even the girl's name was heavenly. Erik knew what to do. He glanced at his watch. He knew it would mean wasting a few debts owed to him, but if he moved quickly she would be sitting beside him in a matter of minutes.

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