Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this story except for the few you do not recognize. The copyright is simply to say that the story itself is mine, not the characters in it.

Author's Note: Many thanks to my reviewers and to my wonderful story editors Musicallover and Penmora Zenith.

Chapter 7

Anticipation

"The Bal Masque is just a week away. Do you have your costume ready?" It was early Saturday evening and Amir was stirring a margarita concoction in his kitchen. Erik rarely visited him in his penthouse above the cultural district, but he was excited about his progress with Christine and needed to talk to someone about it. Amir wanted to make him feel welcome and offered to make him a recently discovered recipe for San Francisco's Ultimate Margarita. Together they had been on a quest to find the best margarita recipe since they found most to be lacking per their exacting standards.

"Yes, it's ready. Is yours?" Erik sat at the counter and watched Amir as he stirred the icy beverage in a tall pitcher.

"Yes, I think it's the best one yet. What are you going as?" Amir opened a cabinet and took out a couple of very modern margarita glasses.

"I want it to be a surprise. I'm hoping to make an impression," he smiled crookedly.

Amir ran a cut lime around the rims and dipped the glasses in salt. He gracefully poured the margarita in the glasses and handed one to Erik. "I promise I'll be impressed."

Erik took a sip. "Mmm…. I think I like your recipe better. This is still lacking something. Nice presentation, though. I was talking about Christine, clown."

"Have you thought about how you're going to find her among all those people?"

"After watching her for four years, I could find her no matter what she wore. I managed to find her at the previous masquerades after all."

"And how will you approach her?" Amir was very curious as to how Erik would go about romancing a woman since that was a side of him he'd never seen and that Erik had never talked about. He was quite certain Erik was not gay, but he had never shown the slightest interest in any woman during the whole of their eight-year acquaintance.

"I suppose I'll simply introduce myself and ask her to dance. I haven't really thought about it." Erik furrowed his brow. He supposed he'd better start thinking about it soon for he had no idea what he would say to her after introducing himself. "Do you have any suggestions?"

"You could offer her a drink. Asking questions is always a good idea." This is going to be interesting Amir smiled to himself. "At least you can dance."

Erik took another sip of his margarita. "So what costume will you be wearing this year?"

Amir grinned. "You'll see it next Saturday, but I promise it won't be anything like last year's." Last year, although it had not been his intent, Amir had scared the hell out of Erik when he tapped his shoulder from behind dressed as the Shah of Mazanderan. As composed as Erik normally was, he had taken a quick step back and dropped his drink, staring at a masked man he knew to be dead. It had been all Amir could do to not burst out laughing for he'd never before seen Erik startled. Since then, he'd been waiting for Erik's pay back, which he knew would come when he least expected it.

Erik smiled at the memory. He was glad they had photographs commemorating the event. His was now framed and sitting in his bookcase, Amir as the Shah, and he as Stalin in full dress uniform. He thought it curious at the time that they should both come dressed as dictators.

Christine, on the other hand, had come as Marilyn Monroe, complete with blond wig and blood red lipstick, on the arm of that boy, Rick, dressed up as Howard Hughes. Erik had thought it terribly cliché, but it had earned a picture in the city's magazine, and even he had to admit they did indeed make a handsome couple. He thought it comical at the time that Stalin should be shadowing Marilyn Monroe at the masquerade. Neither she nor the boy had suspected, of course, but as he watched, he imagined what it might be like to be in the boy's place, attending a party with Christine, enjoying one another's company, just being with one another in public. These thoughts during the party, and afterwards in dreams, had sustained him until her next public appearance.

Erik and Amir retired to the living room for a vicious game of chess as they reminisced about old times. Amir had lately taken to pulling out all the stops in his attempt to beat Erik at last. Amir had always been an excellent player, but Erik's winning streak was too much. No one deserved to be that good. So in his spare time Amir had begun to study the game strategies of former chess masters. He had memorized all their moves and tricks, yet it seemed Erik was always several moves ahead of him. Perhaps this is what comes of trying to go head to head with a genius he thought. Yet, if he had thought to ask, he would have learned that Erik had already consulted the books detailing the masters' strategies when they had first begun their weekly chess game years ago. Genius had nothing to do with it.

When their game finally ended a little after ten that evening, Erik was again the winner. "Next week, my place."

As Erik drove home, he thought about his long relationship with Amir and about how the man had stuck by him through so much, literally through life and death. Although Amir still had family in Iran, he had been forced to abandon them in order to keep them safe and alive due to his covert activities. Even now, he was unable to acknowledge that he had any family at all, and Erik, in effect, had become his family. But at least you knew your family loved you Erik thought. As he returned to his apartment, he decided to write another note to Christine.

He finished the note by eleven o'clock and decided to see if Christine might be online. She was.

EDupont: Good evening, my dear.

AriaMaven: Good evening, Ed.

EDupont: Up rather late this evening, aren't we?

AriaMaven: I might say the same about you.

EDupont: Indeed. I wondered if you might have heard a new piece that's just come out called "An Overture for Mankind." Since you're a music major, I wondered what your opinion of it was.

AriaMaven: Were you at the lecture a few weeks ago? Dr. Khan from the Philharmonic gave it.

EDupont: The music director, I'm familiar with him. No, I didn't hear the lecture.

AriaMaven: He played it during his lecture and it was incredible! I've never been so moved by a piece before, and I'm sure I'll never hear anything like it again.

EDupont:So you liked it? What do you think it means?

AriaMaven: I loved it! Dr. Khan said it was the most significant piece that's been composed in over 500 years! Can you imagine that this was written in our lifetime? I think that's pretty exciting. They had a question and answer session after it was played and just about everybody felt the composer was paying tribute to mankind, his achievements and the promise for the future.

EDupont: Did you feel that way, too?

AriaMaven: No, but I think I was the only one who didn't. I thought the composer was talking about himself, not mankind.

EDupont: What do you mean?

AriaMaven: Well, I'm just basing this on how the music made me feel, and I felt that the composer was talking about his life, about what he's gone through, and what he hopes for.

EDupont: And what would that be?

AriaMaven: I think this composer's experienced incredible pain and sadness, more than anyone ever should, yet he yearns for beauty and happiness. I think he's got a beautiful soul and an incredible mind, and that he's probably a genius. And he sees and feels such beauty and wonder in the world that the vast majority of us don't. I believe this music is the heart and soul of this man.

Erik was stunned. No one had ever expressed this truth to him with such innocence and clarity. He was silent for a long while.

AriaMaven: Ed, are you still there?

EDupont: Sorry, just thinking.

AriaMaven: So what did you think the composer meant by this piece?

EDupont: I'd, uh, have to agree with your assessment. I also believe the composer was talking about himself.

AriaMaven: That's nice to hear. I think you're probably the only other one who thought so.

EDupont: It's difficult for many people to see the truth when faced with it. It's much easier for them to either believe what the crowd believes or to go with what's most obvious. You're very intuitive, Christine. That's admirable.

AriaMaven: Thank you. I wish it was on CD, I'd love to have it.

EDupont: Perhaps I could play it for you someday on the piano.

AriaMaven: You play the piano? I'd love that.

EDupont: Your wish is my command. Sweet dreams, mon cheri.

AriaMaven: Goodnight, Ed.

Erik turned off his computer and turned to his CD library which contained thousands of recordings. He selected one CD and placed it in a case. He then wrapped it in a sheet of his stationery and sealed it with his initial in red wax. He would deliver it to Christine tonight, and she'll find it in the morning.


It was Sunday morning and Pinecone was meowing loudly in the living room. I really don't appreciate this, you stupid cat. Christine dragged herself out of bed. She treasured sleeping in on the weekends and Pinecone had ruined it. She knew she'd never get back to sleep now.

Pinecone was sniffing at something by the door, and as Christine approached, she saw that it was something that had been pushed under it. She picked it up and noticed the red wax D which sealed the contents. Ed delivered something else to me. Now what?

She carefully undid the seal and saw that it was a CD, not commercially made, but no doubt a home recording because there was no label on it. She placed it in her stereo and hit Play.

To her complete surprise, it was the fully orchestrated version of An Overture to Mankind. Christine thought that Ed had recorded himself playing the piece on his piano, but how had he gotten a copy of this? It's true he's in the music business, but how deep did his involvement go?

She turned on her computer and immediately added him onto her instant message contact list to see if he was online. He wasn't. She hoped he would be on later so she could ask him about it. She decided to leave her computer on just in case.


Erik opened his eyes to muted sunlight coming through his drapes. It was overcast with a hint of rain in the air. Anubis lay on the bed next to him, a black puddle in a sea of ivory. He thought it'd be a nice day to go for a walk along Fisherman's Wharf. He didn't usually go out there because of the tourists and the usual crowd, but with the weather as overcast as it was, he thought it would be the perfect opportunity.

He got dressed at a leisurely pace and prepared a light breakfast of toast and orange juice as he skimmed the morning paper. He looked through the Arts and Living section and noticed a large section devoted to the upcoming Bal Masque. Proceeds would go to the local children's hospital and a large donation by the de Chagny Foundation was also mentioned. Erik wondered if Rick de Chagny had tried to rekindle his relationship with Christine. If he was in Rick's place, Erik knew he'd never rest until Christine was his again. Since Christine was no longer with the de Chagny boy, Erik was determined to do everything in his power to make her fall in love with him. But he knew this would require subtlety so as not to scare her away.

He went to his closet and retrieved his hooded coat. He would deliver his latest letter to Christine this morning to further pique her curiosity. By the time the Bal Masque rolled around, she would be more than anxious to meet him.


Erik drove to Christine's apartment and parked a little way down from Madame Wu's. He was sure Christine was home. As he ascended the steps and quietly approached her apartment, he could hear his overture playing from inside. Perhaps Christine was in her living room at this very moment listening. He went to the end of the hall and unlocked the supply closet, leaving the door open slightly. He removed the letter from his breast pocket and quietly slipped it under her door.


Christine was lying down on her couch, listening to the overture as it washed over her. Her eyes were closed and she hoped she'd be able to get a few more minutes shut eye. Her head was turned towards the entry, and when she opened her eyes slightly, she saw an envelope silently being pushed under her door. She was immediately awake and bolted from the couch. She snatched up the envelope and fumbled with the chain lock on her door, trying to get it open. Ed was just on the other side of her door and she wanted to see this mystery man face to face. She threw the door open and took a step into the hallway, looking both ways down the hall. It was empty.

As she stood there, she noticed that the envelope in her hand was still warm, as though it had been in someone's pocket. He couldn't have gotten far. As she looked down the hall, she noticed the supply closet and started walking toward it.

Erik saw her approaching from the peep hole and continued to gaze at her.

Christine stood in front of the supply closet. She took hold of the door knob and turned it. It was locked. She thought she'd try and knock. "Hello, is somebody in there?" she asked softly, not wanting to disturb her neighbors on a Sunday morning. Of course there was no reply, and she felt rather foolish talking into a closet. She straightened up and looked around to make sure no one had observed her strange behavior, and she simply turned and walked back into her apartment, locking the door and replacing the chain lock.

Inside the supply closet, Erik sighed. When he felt the coast was clear, he silently left the building and walked to his car. He was looking forward to walking along Fisherman's Wharf again.


Christine went into her kitchen and put on a pot of hot water. Sleep was out of the question now after that bit of excitement, so she'd meet the morning with some instant hot chocolate. When the water came up to boil, Christine got down her favorite mug, a thick ironstone mug given to her by her godmother, Mrs. Valerius. As she stirred the hot water and cocoa, she thought about her parents and Mrs. Valerius and remembered the Christmases they shared. Although she had been an only child, her family had seemed so complete then, and she was never happier. She thought about how much she loved and missed them. It was hard to believe it had already been three years since that terrible accident. She would probably spend this Christmas with Megan and her mother. At least I won't be alone.

Christine's mind began to wander and she recalled a pair of golden eyes and a mask. I wonder what Erik's doing right now? Why couldn't I meet him at the Bal instead of Ed? But how would I even find him among thousands of people? Talk about a needle in a haystack. I thought he'd call the store by now or maybe even come in, but he hasn't come back. Just listen to me, as though he's got nothing better to do with his life than wander around Chinatown…

When her chocolate was ready, she brought it over to the coffee table and set it down as she prepared to read Ed's latest letter. Again she noticed her name on the envelope in beautiful script. As she tried to pry open the seal, she tried to think about this logically. He says I know him and he wants to meet me at the masquerade, but I still don't understand why he has to go through all this. I can't believe he's just shy. All I know is that he's in the music business, but I don't even know how old he is, but I'll be sure to ask him next time. He obviously wants to be more than just friends, but what if he's not my type and I don't like him? Maybe I'm just getting ahead of myself. He seems nice so far, so now what? She removed the letter from the envelope and several red rose petals fell out.

Well, he at least he has style she thought.

My dearest Christine,

I hope you enjoy the recording. It is truly a pleasure to know that you have such great appreciation for music and also understand its nuances. I find such rare insight to be quite attractive.

The Bal Masque fast approaches and yet not soon enough. Many times have I seen you on stage and have longed to speak with you, but could not, for surely an angel of music such as yourself would not deign to speak to this mere mortal man. I have admired you from afar since you first graced the halls of the Garnier Music Conservatory, but soon you will graduate and be lost to me. I cannot have you pass out of my life without even attempting to know you, my dear Christine. It is my fondest hope that we may become better acquainted, at your discretion, of course.

I will write once more before the Bal Masque and hope to see you online until then. But before I take my leave, close your eyes, mon cheri, and imagine that I gently kiss your hand before I depart.

Eternally yours,

ED

Christine stared at the letter for a long time. He certainly has a way with words, she thought. Gradually, she began to realize that she felt a little warm, and it wasn't due to the hot chocolate.