Weezer's Falling for You

Holy cow! I think I've got one here
Now just what am I s'posed to do?
I've got a number of irrational fears
That I'd like to share with you
First, there's rules about old goats like me
Hangin' 'round with chicks like you (but i do like you)
And another one: you say "like" too much

But I'm shakin' at your touch
I like you way too much
My baby I'm afraid I'm falling for you
I'd do 'bout anything to get the hell out alive
or maybe I would rather settle down with you

Christine had been so scared, that even just sitting in the limousine that was driving her to the event had seemed like a cage. It should be been filled with people laughing and having fun, and it seemed odd that she had been alone, but looking back, she felt she would have preferred it that way. She had been nervous enough as it was, and she didn't think she could have handled the pressure of being socially acceptable in someone else's presence as well. She was being thrust in front of what could have been hundreds of people, and every single one of them would be taking photos and filming the event. It was probably for the best that she had had those last few minutes to herself so she could compose herself.

Christine fiddled with her shoes. She rarely, if ever, wore high heels, so it was nerve-wracking to think that she'd have to walk around in uncomfortable shoes for a few hours. She should have practiced wearing high heels before coming to the event, she regretted, and possibly breaking in the new shoes would have helped too, which didn't help her self-esteem. She felt confident only in the fact that she mattered to her viewers. She thought about how excited they had been to hear that she was coming to America. Some of her American viewers had left comments saying they would be in the crowd. She had been excited as well, but she was concerned that she would not be able to see them once she was standing in front of hundreds of flashing lights. She wasn't even sure if she was allowed to greet her followers or whether she would be asked to walk straight in.

She grabbed a water bottle from the bucket before her, and took a few gulps, before staring out of the window. She was always thirsty when nervous, but soon, the bright lights and the passing people made her feel better. Maybe her earlier melancholy was caused by her thinking about her father back in her hotel room.

Come on Christine, he'd be so proud of you. He'd be cheering you on. And look at you! You're in New York, going to an awards show! You have a whole week to hang out here and do whatever you like! Her mind argued, and she agreed with it happily, still trying to decide where to head to the following day. She wanted to visit the Statue of Liberty, as it would make a good opening for her next video, and then Central Park and Times Square. Then she could finish the whole day off with a musical and still have 5 days left to enjoy herself. She had a long list of things that she wanted to do, such as drive in a yellow taxi cab, eat at a local pizzeria, and a whole bunch of other things to do with American culture.

It was such a wonderful break after all, being all dressed up and she felt like a diva. Her hair was perfect; the dress looked so good on her and her make-up showed off her eyes just how she liked. It was so nice to just pamper herself, and she laughed in her head, smoothing out her dress lovingly, feeling remarkably girly, and she was so happy that she had reached such a good turning point in her life. She was positively beaming with pride, until she remembered that while she might have had 6 days left, it was going to end up with her going back to London and back to her part time job as a waitress in a small cafe near the London Eye while spending her days making videos. It was just so boring being a waitress, the same thing day in and day out, serving people that she never saw again. Making videos had become her life after her father had died. She had needed to vent, and it had occurred to her that she could have just kept a diary, but she had gone one step further, and started to make videos, recording her life and putting it out on display on the Internet. It was just so rewarding to express herself, and then have people talk back to her. She had never been able to make many friends in person, but her subscribers were more than enough to keep her occupied. Christine tried to stay optimistic by practicing her best smile again, until she saw the large red and gold banner that announced her arrival to the hotel where the awards were taking place.

25th Court One Music Awards 2013

Christine could feel the excitement build up inside of her as the limo came to a stop. It had finally dawned on her that this was really happening. She was really going to an awards show. She would get to walk down the red carpet, and maybe there would be a writer who'd want to ask her a few questions, or maybe her photo would appear in some newspaper. Maybe this would even get her some more subscribers if she presented herself neatly enough. She didn't want to offend anyone. Suddenly though, she lost her nerve as the passenger seat door opened, and a hand reached inside to help her out. She could hear thousands of people screaming and shouting, and the whole walkway was lit up beautifully, with a hundred light bulbs firing off on top of cameras, and so many people just standing about, chatting. She meekly placed her hand on top of one hovering just inches from her face, and was relieved to see a man smiling down at her as she got out.

"You are Miss Christine Daae?" He asked, and Christine nodded.

"Yes." She replied, pulling out the rest of her dress.

He directed her to follow him as he began to explain what she would be doing. It was expected that she would have a few promo photos taken of her, trying to promote Chris Wright's show, and then walk down the red carpet. Christine was about to ask if she was going to be interviewed, but from the way he directed her over to a board with logos all over it with only one photographer, she supposed not.

"I'm sorry, but what exactly-"

"Just stand there and look pretty." Was all the man offered, along with a shrug. "My team will look after you, but you'll need to be on the red carpet in about 4 minutes. Think you can manage it?"

Christine nodded, her eagerness building up as he told her to face the cameras and smile. The photographer, who stood too close for her own comfort with a disgusting aftershave, kept nudging her into different positions. She wanted to scowl at him and warn him off, but she kept calm as she did as she was told. But soon the photo team descended on her, puffing out her already puffed out dress, moving some of her hair behind her ears, and showed her where the red carpet began. There was a security guard standing right beside a large potted fern, and there were some people hanging out behind it, but apart from that, she had no clue what was waiting for her.

A woman placed her hand on Christine's shoulder, and said in an American accent she couldn't place, "Don't worry, you'll be fine."

Christine smiled, appreciative of the woman's concern. "Thanks, but I'll be okay, I think. It's just nerves, that's all."

The woman smiled, rubbing her arm. "You look amazing, so now all you need is to walk out there and show them what you've got. Don't go too fast, keep your eyes on the photographer's faces to see where you need to direct yourself. If someone waves you over, they want to ask you questions. And work the Chris Wright Show into an answer. Then you go in, hand them your invite, you'll be directed to your seat, and when the show is over, the limo will take you back to your hotel."

"Cheers." Christine thanked, grinning enthusiastically.

"Go on then, sweetheart. You can do it." The woman reassured, and Christine thanked her once more before heading over the red carpet. "Oh wait, don't forget about your invite."

Christine spun around, and took the white envelope from the woman, sliding it into her purse. "Thank you. Do you know where I'll be sitting?"

"Not sure, they'll probably just use you to fill in an empty seat. But at least you'll be part of the audience, eh?"

Christine gave a smile, and carried on walking over to the red carpet. The security guards gave her a passing glance before nodding their approval for her to step through. She thanked them, and gave herself a moment, staring down the long red carpet that quite a few celebrities were already on. Mostly singers and producers, some she recognized, some she didn't, and she could feel her heart skip a beat as she felt her feet pull her forward unnaturally. She looked over to the left, where the cameramen taking photos gave her a quick once over, and after shooting one or two photos lazily, they went back to watching the real celebrities like vultures.

Wow, not as dramatic as I thought it would be. Christine thought, staring down at her dress. Ah well, what were you really expecting? You're not exactly Beyoncé.

She carried on walking, watching the cameramen, fascinated by the other celebrities. Christine wanted to shield her eyes from all of the bright lights that beamed down on her. She squinted her eyes, trying to see if she could find a follower of hers, though she probably wouldn't have recognized them. It was hard to see anyone though, through the randomly blinking lights. Everything just seemed a blur, and it made her head spin. It was the flashes from the cameras that threw her off, as the most embarrassing thing that could have happened, happened to her. Her shoe must have caught on the carpet awkwardly, blinded momentarily by the glaring lights, and she gave a small gasp as she realized she was stumbling forward. Time seemed to slow down, as she remembered thinking, 'Well that's just great. I'll be in the news for sure now'.

But someone had caught her, and was cradling her in their arms as she continued to trip. It was a stiff embrace because the person she didn't know was suddenly touching her so intimately and seemed just as dazed as her. She couldn't slow herself down, and as the person grabbed her wrists in an ill attempt at holding her up, she crashed into their stomach and sent them stumbling down with her.

Christine groaned, her cheeks growing red as she realized she might have just embarrassed not only herself, but some high ranking celebrity. She vaguely remembered hoping it was someone she didn't know just so that it would be less embarrassing when she started to apologize. Now they were lying on the floor, the wind knocked out of her, and she groaned again as the person held her wrists carefully and squeezed them. Other than that, they were lying perfectly still, and worse yet, she was lying on top of them. She lifted her head, moaning as the urge to press her hand to her forehead rose, and she was already in the middle of apologizing when she finally caught on to what it was exactly she was staring at.

It was a statue. Christine was puzzled for a few seconds, wondering for a moment what was going on. She could hear heavy breathing though, and the hands that were holding her had squeezed her wrists only seconds ago. So it wasn't a statue, it actually was a person.

Well duh, That makes far more sense, she thought. And it is much more preferable to stumble into, instead of a statue. But still embarrassing.

The statue head looked familiar at least. She wondered where she had seen it before, when it came to her. It was reminiscent of Venetian statues. It was oddly beautiful to look at. It had beautifully carved curls, and a strange expression on its face, that seemed to be almost calm, but intensely so. The eyes had been formed in a way that that two empty pits served as pupil's, and the lips were so full and lifelike. It wasn't just a simple, cheap mask either. A lot of love and care had gone into it, she guessed. It must have been made out of clear white marble by the look of it. What truly amazed her was the fact that it covered his entire head. There was no skin visible, apart from his neck.

"I didn't mean to do it, I didn't even see you. I'm not used to walking in heels." She finished, her eyes locked onto the mask's pupils. It was spectacular image, and she could feel her heart beat rise again as she continued with her apology.

But he wasn't responding. He was just staring at her. Or maybe he wasn't even staring at her. He could have been doing anything under the mask, but he still didn't move. Was he okay? She was going to ask him, but he looked down at their hands, his long, thin fingers wrapped around her wrists, and he sharply pulled them away, as though disgusted by her touch. It hurt her, but Christine tried not to let it affect her as she grabbed his shoulder. He still hadn't said anything. Maybe he couldn't hear her through the mask.

"Are you okay? I'm so sorry! Hello?" She asked, slightly alarmed.

"No, I..."

Christine's whole body shivered. Just two syllables and already she wanted to curl up on the couch with him under a blanket. He must have been a singer, she decided, his voice was so classically pleasing. She sat up, still watching him, unaware of the multitude of cameras that had now focused themselves on them both. She could see him properly now, and he was by far the most interesting person she had met since landing that morning. The mask he wore was intriguing, and she wanted to ask him about it, but she wondered if it was an artistic statement, like some celebrities were wont to do. Maybe it symbolized how humans saw beauty. She was kneeling beside him now, more curious about the mask and its purpose, and brushed some hair away from her face so she could see him better. He seemed to be watching her also, his head following her hands, and she smiled at him. But cringed as she realized what she must have looked like to him.

Oh god, I'm just sitting here smiling at him. He must think me an idiot!

She was about to offer to help him up, when she noticed the lights bouncing off of his mask, suggesting to her that maybe it was more likely to be plastic instead of marble, and that the cameras were on them. She looked up at them, but couldn't see anything, apart from hundreds of flashing lights. No doubt they were all loving the chaos, and she turned back around, reaching forward to wrap her hand around the man's bicep. She tried to help him sit up, but he refused to move.

"I'm fine." He told her.

She wanted to melt in his arms; he had such a charismatic voice, but his tone strictly told her that he wasn't amused. She bowed her head with shame, and admitted, "I'm sorry. I honestly didn't mean to fall into you like that. They're new shoes, you see. Can I help you get up?"

"Yes." He answered solemnly.

She sensed that he was upset, but whether it was directed towards her or not, she wasn't sure. It was easy to assume that it was. He must have been so angry with her. She helped him stand up, and she held onto his arm, making sure he was steady. The mask must not have made it very easy to see. He did not ask her to move her hand, or even recognize that it was there, but he still continued to watch her, not saying very much. Christine wished she could have gotten to know this man. He was very intriguing. He was wearing a statue's head for a mask after all, and by now, most people would have shouted at her and stormed off, but he seemed just as hypnotized as her. She wanted to know his name.

"My name is Christine Daae." She prompted.

"I am Erik … Destler."

He then proceeded to admire her dress, which she decided to take as a compliment, despite the fact that he had shrunk from her previously like she was diseased or something. She continued to smile at him however when he checked out her shoes.

"You'll trip in those." He mumbled flatly.

Christine wanted to punch him in the arm. Was he making fun of her, or just making a joke? She looked at him, staring down at her feet. "I already did." She laughed.

He looked up, observing her, and just stood still. Christine had been smiling, but something told her that Erik was not. He looked down onto his arm where her hand was, and Christine cringed with embarrassment once more. She began to pull it away and saw that he was following her arm with interest.

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

He nodded, and she remembered her purse as he did so. She looked around on the floor and saw it, kneeling down to pick it up, and began to question just what she should say to him next. Maybe he was just going to continue going along the red carpet. He was probably already gone, she reasoned, straightening herself back up. But he was still there.

"Yes, you're British, aren't you?" asked Erik.

"Yes, that's right. I was born in Sweden, but my dad brought me over to England when I was young." Christine answered, pleased that he had stayed by her side.

"I did wonder if I heard a hint of something else."

And from there, the whole evening had been resplendent. Soon after their short conversation, they had both realized that the cameramen and reporters was drinking this moment in, taking photos of everything, and she had cringed inwardly.

Oh God, they got me falling on him, lying on him, and then grinning at him as I watched him lie on the floor after I put him there! She wanted to look up at him and see his reaction, but the mask wouldn't have told her anything. She wished she could see his face, but it was obviously something to do with his work. God knew that she had to dress up for some of her videos, too. She tilted her head. Or maybe it really was just a fashion statement that she didn't quite get.

"Miss Daae, allow me escort you to your table." He had offered, and after giving a nod, she saw that he had also offered his arm.

She could hardly even believe it. He was acting so gentlemanly. She was certain now that she was blushing in front of him. She took it, carefully at first, in case he had hurt himself when she fell on top of him, and together they walked down the red carpet.

It was a dream, to her. A man on her arm, a beautiful dress, and apart from the embarrassment of collapsing on a stranger, it was a beautiful night. He held onto her, and they chatted comfortably for two strangers. They talked about the reasons they were here, but somehow Christine had completely forgotten to tell him her story, as she had been far too interested in him. After a few minutes, when they had begun to ascend the stairs that led into the hotel, she had found that he had stopped behind her, but was still holding onto her. Christine had paused, in confusion. He was so quirky, she thought. He had despised her touch, and now he didn't want to let go of her. He asked her where she was sitting, and her whole body buzzed with excitement, despite the sorrow she had felt with thinking that she would have to leave his side. Maybe he was sad too. They both mutually wished to be close to each other, it seemed to Christine, once she had voiced her concern. She waved at him as she began to walk away, and was overwhelmed with a sense of despair as she was finally escorted to her seat.

She greeted the other people sitting with her, and attempted some light small talk, but they hadn't been as interesting as Erik. They were just some business people who had no real curiosity in her. They were here to support some others artists that had shown up, and Christine looked around the room, hoping that she would recognize who they were talking about, but she didn't.

I wonder where Erik's sitting. She looked around. She couldn't see him anywhere. You'd think he'd be so easy to spot.

Now that she had had a moment to herself, she began to think about his name. Erik Destler. She had to admit, the name did not sound familiar. But he must have been important, why else would he have been wearing a mask? Surely it wouldn't be normally allowed at an awards ceremony? And he had been on his own. So what did that mean? He hadn't even mentioned what award he would be accepting.

After a few more minutes of looking around, she finally spied him walking into the room and felt a flood of relief sweep through her. He moved with such a deliberate force, she couldn't help but admire him. He did have a thin, tall frame, but she knew that underneath the suit, he was firm and strong. It suited him, she insisted, watching him carry on over to the other side of the room. The white mask seemed to almost glow in the lights, and she could see the mass of curls that adorned the mask. He was approaching a table way over in the corner, closer towards the back. He had to climb a few steps up to the bar area and went into the furthest corner of the ballroom. She kept a close eye on him, facing away from him so he wouldn't catch her looking at him, because he too was scanning the room, looking for something. She wanted it to be her he was looking for, but it was far more likely that he was just seeing who was here. She continued to watch him, as he sat down with a Middle Eastern man, though she couldn't see him too clearly.

She fiddled with the knife and fork on her table, and tried not to listen in on the other guests' conversations, but she was so bored and she had nothing to do. She was about to slyly try and sneak out her camera so she could grab some footage of the event, but to her confusion, a waiter appeared.

"Excuse me, are you Miss Christine Daae?" He asked quite fearfully.

"Yes, is everything okay?" She asked, alarmed.

"If you would just like to follow me, we're placing you in another seat that might be more suited for you."

Christine couldn't believe it. "Is there something wrong with where I'm sitting?"

"No, we just have another seat available that you may get a better view from."

She looked around. She was up against the wall, and could see the stage clearly before her and to her right. What was he on about?

"Where are you placing me?" She asked, curious.

"With Erik Destler. He asked for your seat to be moved over to his table." He confessed, breaking out of his work persona to personally confide in her. "They didn't want me to tell you, they thought you might object."

"No... No, just give me a second."

Christine smiled, holding herself back from making any excited noises. She could feel the look of the other guests on the back of her head and she stood up triumphantly. She grabbed her things quickly, and turned to the face the people she had been sitting with. They looked speechless.

"Goodbye. Thank you for your company." And Christine turned towards the waiter, indicating her readiness to go. He immediately walked off, walking around all of the tables and she quickly followed behind him. She tried to compose herself mentally as she thought about how quickly her evening had changed.

She soon approached the table, and Erik had stood to greet her, something that pleased her greatly. Her breath had been taken away, as she took a moment to admire the mask once more. It was so strange, speaking to someone, but never seeing their lips move or their eyes blink. It was kind of interesting though. She just wanted to sit and stare at him. She had been introduced to his manager, Nadir Kahn, and they soon sat down to wait for the pre-show dinner. Christine, too eager for her own good did most of the talking, though she could tell that Erik wasn't too into the idea of talking about himself. That was fine, in Christine's opinion, but she did want to hear more about him. They did end up talking about Erik at first, mostly about his awards, and how he didn't even pick them up, except for tonight which struck her as odd. They talked about her life back in England, though Erik had seemed shocked at a few things she had said which only made her more confused. She had tried to comfort him as the man known as Nadir admitted that Erik did not have a lot of popular press at that moment, or so Christine figured. She tried to cheer him up by telling him that their seat was much better than her previous one, which wasn't exactly true, but it wasn't exactly false either.

Nadir had then announced that Erik had arranged her seating, which only made Christine grin to herself as she stared at Nadir. She expressed her joy with joining the both of them, emphasizing that it was mostly for seeing Erik again, and they both seemed stunned. She didn't want to say that the waiter had told her already, and decided to keep silent as she leaned forward to take a sip of her glass, when the waiter approached once more.

"Would you like to hear the dinner menu now?"

Erik had remained motionless, staring at the waiter, apparently disgruntled by the sudden appearance. The waiter continued,

"Tonight the choices are-"

"Nothing for me." Erik told him darkly, an irritated tone in his voice as he barked at the poor waiter.

Christine bit on the inside of her lip, so Erik wouldn't be able to see her do it. He seemed angry, but she couldn't tell at what. He seemed like a bit of an irritable person, and she wasn't sure how to respond to that. It must have had something to do with the mask. It meant a great deal to him, she could tell now. But she didn't want to eat in front of him if it made him uncomfortable. She turned to face the waiter. "Nothing for me either, thank you."

Nadir swore under his breath. "Blast it, just bring the lady and I some more drinks." Nadir grumbled. "What was I expecting, after all…"

The waiter turned to face Christine again. "Just a sweet martini and lemonade, thank you." She answered, feeling very embarrassed.

The waiter nodded, and Christine turned once more to Erik. He was still sitting quite close to her, faced fully towards her. His head was tilted to one side, his whole attention on her. It was exhilarating, she conceded; not knowing what he was thinking when he looked at her. He didn't seem too opposed to her forwardness, and she almost wished that he was interested in her.

"Are you sure you won't have anything? I'm sure they can get you a straw, or something else maybe? You must be quite hot under there?" She asked, holding onto the waiter's sleeve before he tried to vanish. Surely he could have lifted off the mask, even just a little, to have something to drink. Though looking at the mask, she wondered how it even came off in the first place. There were no cracks to suggest the that mask spilt in half.

"No, that's quite alright." Erik answered weakly.

Christine wondered if she had struck a sore point and frowned, releasing the waiter. He left as quickly as he could manage without running. Christine was only getting more and more confused. She turned to look to Nadir, who only stared back at her, watching her reaction. She looked back at Erik. He was watching her too, but his head was drooping now.

"Are you uncomfortable?" She asked softly, leaning forward. Surely, the mask must have been irritating him, she wondered.

He stood up abruptly, straightening himself out before walking around Christine. "I will be back shortly."

Christine turned in her seat and held onto the back of her chair as she watched him walk away, and turned back to Nadir abruptly.

"Where is he going?"

Nadir sighed, throwing down a white handkerchief with annoyance as he had now lost his only form of entertainment. He looked up at Christine, and shrugged. "I suspect he's gone to cool down."

"Cool down? Is everything alright?" She asked, growing more concerned. "Did I upset him? I didn't mean to, he just seemed so on edge and I-"

"No, my dear, he is just incredibly shy. Erik is a strange man at the best of times. Have you never heard about him before?"

Christine shook her head. "No, but I've never been into celebrity gossip or backstage talk. But I look at him and like… I mean, I feel like I should know that name. I feel like I should know him."

"He feels much the same way, I suspect." Nadir disclosed quietly.

"The waiter already told me that Erik had asked to move me here. Does he like me?"

"Yes, I think he does."

"And if you don't mind my asking, what is the mask supposed to symbolize?"

"Symbolize?" Nadir asked in bewilderment. "I suspect there may be a reason as to why he chose that mask, but if there is he has chosen to not share that information with me. I feel I should inform you, so as not to alarm you that his actions you have just seen are related to what lies beneath the mask."

"It's not a fashion statement, is it? That's not its real purpose." Christine said slowly, realization dawning on her. "I see what you're hinting at. You're trying to warn me about him."

Nadir had chuckled. "Yes, but this would be for the good of both of you. You will no doubt find yourselves in the newspaper and in gossip circles for the next couple of days, and people will gossip once more about Erik. You see, he never removes his mask in front of company. Not ever. And people are curious about what he looks like. You remember I mentioned his talent?"

Christine nodded. "Yes, the cameras." She leaned forward, her arm rested on the table.

"Well, Erik is unfortunate in that while he may be the most talented genius on the planet, he is not the most attractive of men. He was born with a disfigurement that drives away most men and women. He has never gotten on with another person other than myself, so you must imagine my reaction when he told me that you would be joining us."

"So he has to wear a mask?" She asked in disbelief. Nadir nodded. "But that's got to be uncomfortable. How can he stand it?"

"He does what he must. You see Christine; I can see how smitten you are with him-"

Christine blushed, and laughed aloud, embarrassed. "It is pretty obvious I guess. I am, but I'm so wary of him too. He seems a little high strung. I have no idea what he's thinking. I don't even know if it's appropriate to be flirting with a celebrity. It's so unorthodox."

"Yes, well, believe me when I say that he is just as smitten as you. Though he would probably never admit it, and he would probably reject your interest and think you were teasing him. He is what some would call a recluse. "

Well, he did mention how he rarely accepted awards, and he had managed to secure them an unusual seating arrangement, something that she wasn't sure most celebrities could do. Christine didn't know how to feel.

Christine looked around her, realizing the extent of Erik's power. "And that's why we've been placed here. He managed to organize this?"

Nadir shrugged. "Erik can make anything happen. He's an illusionist you know. And an architect. He's a singer and a ventriloquist and an inventor and because of these skills, it has made him a very wealthy man."

"But he must be lonely." She insisted, looking around to try and spy Erik again. "And all because he can't stand people and is afraid of their reaction to his face?"

Christine turned back dismayed. Erik hadn't been in sight. Nadir spoke up again.

"Now I must ask, Christine. Knowing about his birth defect, knowing that he is not a people person, knowing that he is a wealthy man, how do you feel about him?" Nadir asked, a keen eye on Christine's face.

Christine could feel her heart beat rapidly, and fidgeted in her seat. "Well, he seems like a good guy. Not very talkative, but you did say he was shy. I don't get it. Has no one else really tried talking to him?"

"Not to get to know him, no."

"So he's just shy?"

"…Yes."

"And you're okay with the two of us, I mean? Do you think I'm just after him for his money?"

"I don't think you are but I'd be happy even if you were."

"And Erik likes me?"

"Yes."

"You're sure?"

"Yes," Nadir confirmed, grinning. "You should have seen him before you arrived."

Christine blushed. "What did he say?"

Nadir chuckled, reaching for his glass as the waiter approached once more with their drinks.

"Ah now, you surely can't expect me to betray Erik's trust in those matters, can you?"

Christine allowed the waiter to place her drink down on another napkin, laying it out for her, and shook her head. "I guess you're right. I'd want to hear it from him anyway."

Nadir nodded, choosing to observe her as she looked around. She wondered what he thought of her. Did he think of her as foolish, or just reckless? And there was something that he was not telling her either. Was Erik really the recluse that Nadir claimed? It would explain a few things.

She spun back around, clasping her hands in her lap. "I hope he comes back soon then."

Nadir nodded once more, smiling. Erik did soon return, apologizing to Christine profusely as he came up with some excuse of having to address a guest, but Christine and Nadir smiled to each other secretly as he sat down.

Thank you for all of your comments, they've been amazing, I can't wait for more. I'm so overjoyed from all of the reviews. There's plenty more coming.

I'd love to see some reviews, or any comments or questions! I have a whole story planned out for this so please do ask. Thank you so much! :)