Chapter Three

"Come ON, Thunder!"

Christine was trying in vain to move Thunder away from an SUV where a terrier was yapping it's tiny head off in the front seat. Finally, she managed to jerk the chain leash hard enough for Thunder to reluctantly start moving through the park again, behaving like a normal canine for about three seconds until he started barking and snapping at the air.

"What is it now--what on earth...?", Christine trailed off, watching the pages that fluttered seemingly from nowhere to the ground. The big dog circled the papers, sniffing them suspiciously when his mistress picked them up. It was sheet music, and the pages were slightly torn and wrinkled. The brunette curiously examinied them before folding them and stashing them in her pocket, making a mental note to play it out on her keyboard later. Tightening her ponytail, she looked down at her pet and started jogging again.

////////

"No, that's not it is it? Oh, it IS an F...hm...it sounds out of place, but okay...."

Christine was sitting at her electric piano, reading and playing out the piece that had literally fallen from the sky. So far, it was difficult and more than a little bit surprising. Now, she was trying to play out the entire song without mistakes. After a half-hour of trying in vain, she gave up and sat down to watch T.V. All through the sitcom she was watching, that melody played through her mind. For some strange reason it reminded her of...of...of herself. Equally puzzling was the name, signed in dark, scratchy handwriting in the bottom corner of the last music page: Erik. She'd never heard of him before, and considering the complexity of his music, he should be famous. Why was there no last name? Was it something he always did, like a trademark symbol of sorts?

The upbeat violin solo that was her cell's ringtone snapped her out of her thoughts and she reached for the device irritably, flipping it open.

"Hello?"

"Hey sweetheart! How're you doing?"

"Pretty good. You?"

"Oh I'm always happy when I get to hear that pretty voice of yours...you free Saturday?"

"Uh..yeah! I think so, why?"

"I wanted to take you on an old-school, never failing date---the movies. Just like old times."

Christine laughed. He was so old-fashioned.

"Okay, which movie?"

"You pick: chick-flick or horror"

"Why those?"

"Because you'll be hanging on to me either way, crying over sap or squealing at gore."

"You know I don't get scared at bloody movies."

"Oh, the remake of "Sociopath' is pretty scary, I hear."

"Try me."

"I take that as a 'we're watching 'Sociopath' this Saturday, right?"

"Yes."

"Alright! See you tomorrow night! Love you."

"Love you too. Bye!"

"Bye."

//////////////

Forget, forget, forget, forget, forget, forget....FORGET HER, YOU FOOL!

Erik abruptly stopped banging his head against the wall and rubbed it. His partially twisted forehead was throbbing. He groaned and fell onto his back in exhaustion.

His breathing slowly returned to it's normal pace, as did his pulse. His eyes stared at the blank expanse of the ceiling, trying to stay open. Anytime he closed his eyes, even to blink, a vision of HER filled his brain, suffocating all thought and especially any denial. It wasn't even a foggy, vague picture, like when you're trying to remember what an old relative looked like. No, this was a stranger he saw but one time, and the image of her was as clear as a snapshot in his head. His eyes began to get warm and watery, demanding to be closed. He tried not to blink, oh he tried, but yet those lids shut anyway. For a millisecond, that face flashed in his mind. The dark brown curls, the pale skin, the prominant cheekbones, the small nose, the bloodless lips....the most intriguing feature being her eyes. People always say that is the most appealing part of their significant other's face. They also say that the eyes are the windows to the soul. As far as Erik knew, both were right. That woman's gaze was so beautiful, but it was so melancholy it almost detracted from that beauty. They were kind of large for her face, but not 'buggy'. Their shape was almond, and their color was a chocolatey brown. Erik had never known such a plain colour could be so attractive, but on her, anything was lovely. But despite all of these nice characteristics about her eyes, there was still that deep sadness lurking behind her irises. It was grieving mostly, but there was desperation and longing as well, the type that comes with only a very tragic loss of someone whom you depended on almost completely. Someone who was a father, teacher, friend, companion, guide, role model, and the very source of your emotional stability and happiness, all at once. Someone who was ripped from you, and you had to grow up suddenly and face the cruel realities of life.

Having memories of those you loved and lost is perhaps far wose than having no loving memories at all..., Erik thought solemnly, sighing aloud. His dark head snapped up as he realized he was supposed to be forgetting the stranger, not pitying her!

Growling in frustration at himself, he stood up and began to pace. I need...a distraction...something big and that is hard to stray away from, something that will not involve my life or anything like it...aha! A movie--yes, a bloody, thrilling horror film, you'll like that. Gore and murder to distract me from that accursed stranger...'Sociopath' is on tonight. I will see that. Now, shall I sneak or shall I pay?

Erik contemplated how much cash he had and how cunning he was feeling tonight. He had more than enough money to pay, and he was feeling clumsy and pretty pathetic anyway. He strode over to his desk where his mask lay, bright in the light of the city that streamed through the many windows. He grabbed it and rather roughly put it to his face, adjusting it until it stuck to his skin on it's own. After that he donned the black fedora he almost always wore out. Though it was a warm May night, the hat helped decrease the stares at his mask by partially concealing it. At last, Erik stashed a twenty in his pocket and made his was downstairs...and downstairs...and downstairs...and downstairs...unil he reached ground floor. He locked the door to the building, throwing the key in the air then catching it as he went out into the night.

////////

"Wow-you're gorgeous."

"I'm only in a t-shirt and jeans!", Christine laughed, leaning on the doorframe. Raoul took a step closer, flashing that incredible, stunning smile of his.

"I was not talking about your clothes...", he said, looking her in the eyes, pausing before leaning in and kissing her. It wasn't too nervous, too rough, too controlling or too frantic like how many of Christine's previous boyfriends kissed her. It was real, sweet, and like any girl would want...that is if there was the same emotion on the said girl's part. She tried to put in as much response as she could, but only felt like pulling away for some strange reason. It was hard to explain. She shrugged it off and followed him downstaires to his Corvette. He opened the door for her and even started to buckle her in when she shooed him away.

"I can get it myself, thanks.", she said as gently as she could, fastening the seatbelt on her own. He didn't seem to mind, and he got in the drivers seat just as happy as before.

"You know...we've been dating for three months and I still feel luckier than someone who won the lottery for winning you.", he sighed, starting the engine. "I always thought that since we had been friends so long, you'd still only think of me as a friend..."

Christine quickly changed the subject.

"Remember how we met? We were both what was it...nine, I think, and I lost my red scarf in the Bay...you happened to be in the water and--oh you wre so funny, you were splashing about to rescue it for me!"

"It was sopping wet and had seaweed all in it but you put it back on anyway", Raoul laughed. "And then you hugged me and got even wetter...your father was so mad at first for you messing up your dress, but then he and my parents started talking and forgot all about it."

"We wre friends until you went off to your private school that fall and we drifted apart...", Christine remembered sadly.

"But we met again at that same college!", Raoul pointed out. "At that friend of yours party...what was her name..."

"Ashley Barnes. I remember her--always throwing parties until she got thrown OUT. She finally convinced me to let her dress me up and drag me to the dance floor."

"You had a rather nice dress, I must say."

Christine went red at the memory of the sparkly cocktail dress with a plunging neckline. She went even redder at the image of how Ashley had applied Christine's makeup that night.

"I looked like a hooker with raccoon eyes!"

"Well then, a very attractive hooker with raccoon eyes.", he teased her. She laughed as the Corvette pulled up into a parking space close to the cinema's entrance. Raoul lept out and opened the door on Christine's side. She stepped out and he immediately put an arm around her waist as they walked towards the movie theater.

Once they had payed for their tickets and were inside the building, Raoul dragged Christine to the concession stand.

"Come on, I know you're hungry, you haven't eaten since noon!", he urged her to pick something.

"Alright, a medium drink and small popcorn, then.", she said to the cashier, about to pull money out from her purse, but Raoul stopped her, whipping out his own wallet. Immediately, Christine began to protest.

"No, you don't have to pay for--"

"I insist. It's not even that much.", he shrugged.

She sighed in defeat and let him pay for it. They walked down the dimly lit cinema hallway, searching for their flick and glancing at others.

"Hey look, we could have seen 'Furbies: The Movie' instead!", Raoul joked, making Christine almost choke on her drink from laughing. She stifled her giggles as they both entered the room labeled 'Sociopath', and began looking for empty seats.

AN: See, this is why I think RC CAN be adorable, just not that romantic. Nevah fear, it is an EC story. I'm sorry for the loooong update and the short chapter.