I wish Ramin Karimloo was my age and attended my school. I would die of happiness. Woohoo, inspiration! I've been having trouble deciding where the story's going to go, but I think I've got it now! Yay, hurray, bee friend, hurray! (If none of you get that reference…well, I feel sorry for you. XD )
You know the drill; read, rate and review!
Disclaimer: I do not own Love Never Dies or any of the characters in this fanfic besides the private detectives, the captain and his subordinates, and the two performers from the last chapter.
CLAIMER, PLEASE READ THIS!: Yes, I'm claiming something! I actually wrote the first song featured in this chapter. I would very much appreciate if no one stole the lyrics. It took a lot of consideration for me to put it up on here. I'm not putting up the whole thing, because it's not finished, but it's still mine and what I have is precious to me. For the purposes of the fic, we're going to pretend it's finished since what I'm putting up can pass for a short song. Please, please, please don't steal the lyrics. I'm doing this because I love you guys.
Chapter Seven
Two weeks had passed since the initial rehearsal, and Miss Fleck had blossomed beautifully. She now exhibited a clear preference for Christine and Meg over the other two performers, who apparently were best friends and hadn't met Fleck until they had embarked. The route was indeed very roundabout, and Erik was certain they could have gotten to America by then, but he was grateful for the stall in time—he was spending so much time with his Christine, precious, precious moments.
When everyone else had gone to sleep, Christine and the Phantom walked hand in hand to the Stage Room where the piano waited. They sat together on the floor and talked together for hours. Just talking and occasionally a kiss or two. There was nothing of truly intense passion, no mysterious and dominating Phantom, no Angel of Music or Miss Daaé, soprano extraordinaire. Just them. Christine and Erik.
"So, my angel," Erik said softly to her, entwining his fingers with hers and gazing into her eyes. "What are you thinking about?" Christine shifted, amazed at the intensity of Erik's gaze.
"You," she confessed.
"Me?" he said with a smile, leading her on. She ducked her head shyly.
"I was thinking how I wasn't expecting for it to be this way, the night that I found you."
"And what were you expecting?" Erik asked quietly. He didn't smile now; he just waited for her answer. It was a while before it came. Christine stared at their entwined hands thoughtfully for a moment.
"I'm not certain, really," she said. "But this is so much more than I could ever have asked for." She looked and up kissed her love, and he returned it.
"When we arrive in America, my Christine," Erik said, his mouth inches from hers, "I shall design a palace just for you. You will be the queen of music."
Christine smiled. "That sounds lovely," she said, "But for now I'd rather just be your queen, and find a home where I can come home to you."
Abruptly, Erik pulled Christine to her feet, and went to sit at the piano in corner of the room.
"I want you to hear something," he said, sounding almost nervous. "I wrote it after…after you left." Putting his fingers on the keys as lightly as an echo, he began singing softly,
"Looking down where I fall,
There isn't time to think or stall
Seeing dreams as falling stars
Crashing to the ground
Why aren't you with me?
I can't seem to remember being without you before
It's strange but it seems
Like I've left reality behind
I thought you told me
'it takes two wings to fly'
One wing is useless
Against the weight of the sky
Pushing me down
Growing a new set of wings
Is harder than it seems
Don't we all wish
We could be stars in the sea
Out in this great unknown
Beyond any comfort zone
I flail around
Trying to find my wings again
Sunrise hurts my eyes
Moonlight makes me cry
Because there is no light within this world
Without you
I thought you told me
'it takes two wings to fly'
One wing is useless
Against the weight of the sky
Pushing me down."
As his voice, his beautiful, otherworldly voice faded away, tears lodged in Christine's throat. She had caused that suffering. She had torn one of her angel's wings away from him.
"What…what did you call it?" she asked, trying not to let her voice shake. Erik looked directly into her eyes, his voice a mere whisper.
"Cast Out of Heaven."
"Oh, Erik," Christine said, burning with shame and close to sobbing, "Can you ever forgive me?" He responded by taking her hands in his, and kissing them, afterwards pulling his beloved angel into an embrace. He was close to tears himself.
"After all I've made you go through—after everything that viscount did to you—" Christine glanced up in surprise, but recalled his eavesdropping habits from the opera and forgave it—"how could you ever think I would deem myself worthy of any kind of forgiveness from you?"
Suddenly, they were both crying, tears of both sadness and joy, but mostly tears of release. They clutched at each other, each holding the other together in every way possible. Saving each other.
They had their wings again.
"You're lucky I found you and not those two crazy girls," Madame Giry growled as she led Erik and Christine from the Stage Room early that morning. They had fallen asleep without meaning to, feeling safe in each other's arms and not wanting to leave. "They hardly shut up as it is."
"Come now, Antoinette, you're used to chatty ballet girls, aren't you?" Nadir said with a raised eyebrow.
"My girls generally knew when to be quiet," Giry said. "These girls chatter incessantly." Indeed, the girls (Lillian and Gina were their names) had fast made reputations for themselves on the ship, both among the crew and the performers, for being gossips. Christine would have been pestered about every intimate detail of her life had they found out.
They made their way to the galley of the ship, where the captain insisted upon the performers eating with him. He was himself a chatty man, well aware of his importance, too aware, in fact, since he insisted upon exaggerating it. Lillian and Gina fawned upon him, but the rest of them preferred not to speak to him. His subordinates were all good people, however, and generally made for pleasant conversation. Fleck sat by Christine. She had really taken a liking to the brunette.
"What were you doing in France?" Christine asked.
"I worked in a circus there for two years," Fleck said, taking a piece of bread (the captain insisted upon fresh bread being baked every day). "It just went under, so now I'm going to America. They say it's easier for circus performers to find jobs there."
"Did you have a specific place or company in mind?" Erik asked. Where there were circuses, there were sideshows.
"I was thinking Coney Island. Have you heard of it?" They shook their heads. "There are amusement parks and circuses everywhere in that place. They say everything is illuminated by electric lights. They're always looking for performers, even if a lot of the main attractions are sideshow freaks." Everyone (meaning everyone of Erik's party) was staring at Miss Fleck with great interest.
"Tell us more," Meg said. The rest of them nodded.
Coney Isle, glistening and glimmering
Rising bright, drenched with light
See it smile, beckoning and shimmering
All agleam, like a dream
Every fantasy set free, Sodom rising by the sea…
Coney Isle, miracle on miracle,
Light and sound, all around
Mile by mile, loud and lewd and lyrical
Thrill on thrill, never still
All America was there, beggar next to billionaire…
It seemed only appropriate to end with the Prologue of the original London cast. For some reason it's one of my favorite songs from the musical. Well, tell me what you think! Review! It's right there! Right underneath these words! Thanks!
