All right, here we are! America! Finally, we get to this not-so-wonderful country that I happen to live in, although granted this story is in 1907. Or 1917. Andrew Lloyd Webber completely messed up the timeline, so I'm honestly not sure. I sincerely apologize for the long wait—I actually wrote out a lot of one of the future chapters, but I've been having trouble working up to that point. Coming up in this chapter and in future installments, we have: suspense! Entertainment! Tears! Frustration! Fluff! And so much more! Enjoy, rate and review!
Disclaimer: I do not own Love Never Dies.
Chapter Nine
Erik gripped Christine's hand as tightly as he could, and she gripped it right back—this was it. Disembarkation day (or rather night). If only she knew what I was planning for myself, Erik thought. He knew exactly what he wanted for her—to sing. He wanted America to behold his beautiful songbird in all her glory, glory which he had cultivated and helped bestow upon her. However, standing on the deck, watching the Statue of Liberty draw ever closer and seeing the outlines of towering buildings of New York City, everything seemed uncertain, like they were on unstable ground that could give way at the slightest tremor. It was nighttime, and it was hard to see, which made the experience even more surreal.
Now, stealing through the streets like the Phantom he was, except now he had Christine tagging along with him, Erik had no idea why she'd ever gone with him in the face of this uncertainty. Surely, surely she was meant for the light? Then again, had she actually gone with the fop, he probably wouldn't have been able to bear it…
"Here we are," Erik hissed, stopping abruptly. They were in front of a building that looked like any other on the street, but the Phantom confidently stole up the steps to the door and opened it with a key he found under the doormat. "Perfect."
"What is this place?" Meg whispered as he jiggled the key in the lock.
"An abandoned apartment building. The captain mentioned it one day; said he owns it but that no one was living in it at the moment."
"How did you find it?" Christine asked in amazement.
"He told me the address and said it was only a few blocks from the docks. I'm fairly used to finding my way in new places, and he gave me some important clues when I asked—" the lock gave way and Erik carefully opened the door—"carefully, of course." He quickly ushered the three women and Nadir inside, shutting the door with the smallest of squeaks. The room was orderly but dusty, like it was just waiting for someone to live there—the kitchen was clean, there was a small sofa in the room where they had entered, and two bedrooms towards the back.
"We can sleep here for tonight at least," Erik said.
"And then what?" Nadir asked.
"Christine and Erik get married, of course," Madame Giry said. Surprised silence greeted her words, along with blushing from the couple in question, so she snapped, "For practical reasons. How many people do you think will rent out an apartment to an unmarried couple?"
"We need money for apartments first," Meg said hastily, trying to save face for Erik and Christine.
"What should we do?" Christine asked, jumping gratefully on the change of subject (which was one she much rather would discuss in private with Erik, and not in front of the other three members of the party). "For jobs, I mean."
"Erik and I could probably find work doing odd jobs," Nadir suggested. "It'd be easy in a city like this. I could even find work in the police if I wanted to, probably."
"Mother, you and I could probably find work as dancers," Meg said.
"I'm getting too old to dance," her mother muttered.
"What?" Erik exclaimed in mock surprise. "Did I just hear Antoinette admit to being old?"
"Not another word from you, Erik," Madame Giry growled, but Christine saw her flickering smile. She suppressed a giggle herself. Madame Giry continued, "I'll try to find work as a dance instructor, like back in Paris."
"So where does that leave me?" Christine asked. Everyone looked at her in confusion.
"Aren't you going to sing?" Meg asked, like it was obvious.
"Do you think that's wise?" Christine asked, not looking at Erik—she didn't really want to see his reaction. "I mean, it'll be a little obvious if someone named Christine Daaé who disappeared from France pops up again in America as an opera singer along with someone who might be the Phantom, and without her supposed fiancée?"
"That's fairly easy to get around," Erik snapped, then forced himself to regain control. He would not let his own personal safety jeopardize Christine's singing career. "As long as you don't appear connected with me, or if we come up with a fairly convincing cover story, you can still sing—"
"Why don't we leave this until morning?" Meg interrupted, ever the peacekeeper. Nadir murmured agreement and flopped down on the couch. Antoinette headed to one of the bedrooms without another word and Meg followed, glancing back at Christine. With the unspoken acceptance of Erik and Christine sleeping in the same room, off they headed. As soon as they got there, snuggling under the covers, Christine spoke.
"What do you really think we should do, Erik?"
"You should sing," he said automatically.
"I know that's what you want, but how in the world will it work? I'm fine with being a ballet dancer again for a year or two as things get settled and the media backs off of your case."
"No!" Christine flinched at the intensity of his tone. "I'm sorry," Erik amended quickly, though he didn't sound very sorry at all. "But I stand by my opinion."
"I will not have you be caught just so you can hear one more song of mine," Christine said fiercely, sitting up and staring Erik down, something she had never dared to do before in an argument—his eyes were ever-changing and unreadable, like those of a wild animal. For a few moments they just stared at each other, tension mounting, trying to decide what to say and at the same time gauging each other's reactions.
Finally Erik gave in.
"Fine," he said in a strange tone. Christine was caught completely off guard, having expected an argument of some time.
"What—" she began to ask, suspecting some sort of ulterior motive, but her lover interrupted her.
"You said it yourself, my darling. I can't control you anymore. It's not my place to decide what you do. However, make no mistake—I do not agree with it, and I will find a way to make certain you will sing." Sensing that the conversation was over, both settled into a silence that was somewhat uneasy, and fell asleep.
Erik and Nadir left the three women at the apartment; they had insisted on going to find jobs as dancers themselves that afternoon while the men took care of their own business. Madame Giry, Erik trusted, looked and acted sufficiently intimidating to scare off anyone who might think about accosting them. In addition, Miss Fleck had agreed to meet them and show them around the neighborhood—a fact that greatly eased Erik's nerves. He was used to moving around, but the women were not.
Nadir followed his friend, not looking at all happy.
"Are you sure about this, Erik?" he asked, hurrying behind the Phantom's long strides.
"Yes," Erik said matter-of-factly.
"What about Christine? What does she know about this?"
"Absolutely nothing," Erik said in a steely tone.
"Well, I can't see that blowing up in your face at some point," the Persian said sarcastically.
"It won't," Erik said coldly.
"Why on Earth won't you tell her?"
"It's for her protection."
"Protection? That's just an eloquent way of saying you'd prefer to shut her out!" Erik spun around, and Nadir realized—he'd crossed an invisible line. He had gone way too far.
"Don't—you—dare—" Erik advanced towards him, punctuating each word with a step—"talk to me that way, Nadir. I don't need your approval on how I handle my relationships." Nadir seemed like he bit back some kind of cutting response, and dropped his eyes—a sign of defeat. "Look, Nadir—Miss Fleck said that there were lots of sideshows at Coney Island featuring human freaks. Natural deformities like mine are in great demand, and Coney seems like it does very steady business, so I'll be guaranteed a decent wage. Working in a freak show isn't hard unless you have nothing to distract you from the boredom." With that, Erik turned back around and began walking, then sighed when he realized his friend was not keeping pace, clearly shocked by his cold dismissal of self. "I would do anything for her, Nadir. Anything. This is nothing."
With that, he began walking again, this time with Nadir following. They strolled through Coney Island towards the parks in silence for a while, until Erik stopped again, looking at a sign. "Well, this looks promising." A bright red wooden sign announced Mr. Z's Wonders and Astonishments—Human Freaks! along with a smaller sign telling the reader about the dollar admission. Erik turned to Nadir. "Care to join me?"
Nadir shook his head. "I'm going to see about job opportunities in the police force."
"Suit yourself." Erik walked inside, asking to speak to the manager. The man who received him gazed curiously at the cloth over his face, and went to the manager. Within a few minutes, Erik was standing in front of the man, who looked at him expectantly.
"What can I do for you?" Mr. Z asked.
"Hello," Erik said, beginning to take the cloth off the side of his face. "I'm looking for a job."
*wipes sweat off brow* Wow, that took a lot longer than I thought it would. Again, sorry for the wait; I promise the next chapter will be up much faster. Promise! Please review!
