E: I know I'm late! Erik is so extremely sorry and he should find a pen and carve "Bad Author" (insert random high number here) times! I'm not dead or coming in and out of a comatose, I swear! My poor laptop just hasn't been fixed…still… And I just stole my old dinosaur from my sister so I can somewhat type!
C: *lightly smacks you with roleplay notebook* You should be ashamed of yourself!
E: *sobs* I aaaaaaammmmmmmmm!
C: I'm talking about your grammar! Good Lord, you're out to kill me. Either start paying attention or you will listen to my lectures.
E: Silly dearest. I'm a writer by trade and by passion. Grammar is for the commonly editor.
C: …What was that?
E: Hmm? I didn't say anything. I was mumbling to myself. God, it's like you don't know me at all. And you call yourself my wife!
C: Erik, I'm too tired to listen to your harping. Now, where is my CATS movie I lent you nearly a month ago?
E: …*hides movie under the random dead body of my next kill that I'm planning* I ate it…
C: Don't.
E: I did.
C: Start the chapter. I'm not doing this.
E: You are the killjoy. Everyone, enjoy chapter…actually, I lost count awhile ago.
C: Twenty-eight.
E: Yea, that one!
Roses of Life
Life is never fair. It has a wonderful tendency to go along blissfully, leading you into a false sense of security where you believe yourself utterly protected. Then, it suddenly collapses before you, and every inch of your being is shattered from the impact. No one understood this better than Felicity Michelet Lafayette.
An hour had passed, and the brunette was left lying on the bed, sobbing quietly as Anthony stood before the small mirror on her vanity, inspecting himself. She tried to hide her nude body from him by clinging the blankets to her, but even then she felt like she was unable to hide anything.
"Get up," Anthony mumbled, finally pulling away from his reflection. His hands reached up to adjust his tie, but then moved to the chair that was pulled out and picked up the dress Aida had given his wife only a few hours ago. "Get dressed, Aida's likely to throw a fit if we don't hurry." Felicity still refused to move, her face cast as she tried to stifle her sobs. Everything hurt, and she couldn't let him know. He smirked, moving to sit on the edge of the bed as he set aside the dress. Reaching forward, he took hold of her exposed arm and pulled her close. The thin blanket fell away, and Felicity was soon held tightly against him as his mouth rested beside her ear. For a moment, a brief flighting moment, she believed that he was to show a hidden love. To soften his torture and whisper sweet nothings. Her hopes, however, were soon dashed by his words.
"Would you rather I dress you myself, my fickle little nightingale? Surely, Aida can wait a few more moments."
"No!" she said quickly, pushing herself far away from the man as she scrambled to cover herself. "No, no, Anthony, I-I can do it," she stammered, quickly forcing a smile as if she thoroughly enjoyed his twisted pleasure. "Truly, my husband, I do not wish you to fall out of favor with your own sister."
Anthony smiled, reaching forward to brush aside the brown hair that had fallen before her face. "Have it your way. But I truly do enjoy your company, my wife. I shall see you again in the parlor," he said, now sitting up from his seat. Giving her a last smile, he then left the room and Felicity to her thoughts.
Aida strolled into the room like a breath of wind, wearing a dress that showed off all her best assets and smiling widely. "Henri!" she said when she saw him, as if she had no idea whatsoever that he was going to be there and staring dumbfounded at her, at that. "It's so wonderful to see you," she crooned, looking at him through long eyelashes. Inside her, however, was a fire burning brightly of fury. Anthony was no where to be seen and she wanted to avoid being late.
"My God, Aida, you look stunning," Henri breathed, standing up from his seat and starting at the shimmering golden dress. Taking her outstretched hand, he kissed the knuckles before twirling her around. "Absolutely beautiful."
"Oh, Henri, stop, you flatter me too much," she giggled before looking around the room. Anthony still had not shown.
"Where is your husband?" Henri asked, turning to Felicity. She was looking down at her lap, wringing her hands together to where the knuckles turned white. A permanent look of defeat was etched onto her face. "We'll be late soon if he doesn't show up." Shooting her head up, Felicity stared fearfully at the couple.
"Yes, why don't you go get him?" Aida said sweetly, a look added to her face that left no room for any arguments. Though it was obvious that she was terrified, her fear for the woman far outweighed the one of her husband and she managed a weak nod before standing from her seat and nearly bolting out of the room.
"Why is she so afraid of your brother?" Henri asked quietly.
"Oh, she's rather young and it was an arranged marriage. Anthony can seem a bit rude if you don't know him very well," she explained simply, smiling as Henri took both of her hands in his and kissed her cheek.
"Either way, if they don't return soon I'll just have to take you out myself, chaperone or not."
"And risk my reputation? You wouldn't!" she exclaimed, feigning shock.
"The passion of my heart overrules the logic of my mind," he confided, gently kissing her cheek as Aida swooned. Leaning into him, she sighed dreamily.
"How are you not married yet?"
"I've been waiting all this time for you to come along," he replied, leaning forward to kiss her. He was stopped shortly, though, as Felicity returned with her husband. Tears were in her eyes and satisfaction in his.
Noticing Aida's glare, Anthony smirked. "Ready to go, sister dear?"
"I've been ready for a while now, brother dear," she said pleasantly, her words laced with annoyance. Her brother, dismissing her poisonous words with a wave of his hand, took Felicity by the waist and led them up to the waiting carriage. During the whole ride, Aida sat close to Henri and smiled softly as he whispered sweet words of love into her ear. Felicity glared in jealousy, though the two seemed oblivious as could be, and Anthony stared out the window. Overall, the trip ended quickly and soon the group was getting out before a lavishly decorated house.
"I want you to meet my parents," Henri said, guiding her and the group to the ballroom where the party was being held. The only thing Aida was thinking of was how she could hardly wait until everyone saw her with Henri, so it took her a moment to grasp what he had said.
"I would be delighted," she said, smiling even wider. This was going even better than she had hoped. Feeling a supportive squeeze in her hand, she giggled again and walked with Henri up to an aged couple. She vaguely noticed that her brother had walked off to the bar and Felicity had disappeared somewhere.
"Father, Mother," he said respectively. "This is Aida Lafayette, the woman I've been courting for five months now."
Aida curtsied to both persons. "It's so wonderful to meet you both. This is a lovely party you've thrown."
"Why, aren't you just a dear?" Henri's mother smiled warmly at her and her son. "My Henri has been saying so much about you. You're all he ever talks about at home. 'Where should I take Aida today, Mother?' 'What should I say to her, Father?' Truly, it's endearing." Henri blushed.
"I must agree. But really? I hope he hasn't been telling stories. I'm not that interesting," she insisted, blushing shyly.
"Nonsense," Henri whispered to her before looking up at both of his parents. "I'm sorry Father, Mother, but I have promised this young lady a dance, and I would do wrong by putting it off any longer. I'll see you for the announcement in…" he checked his pocket watch, "one hour."
Allowing Henri to lead her onto the dance floor, she waited patiently until they eased into the familiar steps before resting her head slightly on his chest. Smirking slightly into his jacket, she tossed aside any stares of more polite company and whispered, "What announcement, Henri?"
"It's a surprise."
"Ooh," she sighed. "You can't give me a little, tiny hint?" she begged.
"I'm announcing it."
"Is it exciting?"
Looking up into the air, he thought for a moment as he guided her through each step. Taking her back a step, forward two, all the while twirling about as he contemplated. "Well, if the announcement goes as planned, it will change both our lives."
"Hmmm…" Aida mulled it over. "So I take it that it's good news?"
"Wonderful news."
"Then I can't wait."
Climbing each step silently as the echo of his parents' voice surrounded him, he smiled at Aida who was slightly behind him "Excited?" he murmured.
"Yes," she whispered back, taking her handkerchief and twisting it around her wrist. "This night has been so wonderful, I don't know how you could possibly make it any better." Henri, sneaking a glance from their darkened corner where they were waiting, made sure that no one was watching before kissing her. Their first kiss.
"Henri, dearest, your announcement!" his mother said happily, her body turned towards him from the light of the opened air. Pulling away, he squeezed Aida's hand and took her with him as they both appeared on a balcony looking over the whole ballroom.
"Thank you, Mother," he told her before facing the audience. "Thank you everyone for coming. Now, before we return to the festivities, I would like to announce something. As most of you surely know by now, Aida and I have been courting for a long while now." Here he turned to face her. "I love her more than I've loved any other." Taking her hand in his, he held it tight in both hands before falling down onto his knees before her. Aida couldn't hold back her gasp of surprise, though she had been expecting this, and brought both her hands to her mouth.
"Oh, Henri…" she breathed.
"Aida Lafayette, will you live the rest of your life with me? Will you be my wife?" he asked, reaching into his pocket and taking out a shining ring.
"Yes!" she exclaimed. "Oh, Henri, of course yes!" Allowing Henri to take her hand again, she watched as he slid the ring onto her left middle finger. As applause erupted in the room, Henri stood and kissed his newly betrothed.
As they pulled away to smile at each other, Anthony approached the two, slightly swaying, and patted Henri on the back. "Congratulations! I hope you know what you're getting into," he said rather loudly, laughing.
Aida rolled her eyes. "Oh, brother, you and your jokes," she said, smiling at him. However, as soon as Henri turned to accept his father's well wishes, she shot Anthony a dark look. He only chuckled in return, ruffling her hair like one would to a small child.
"How about you go and see Felicity? She would just love the company."
"Henri and I have to plan the wedding. Why don't you keep your wife company?" she offered instead, speaking sweetly.
"She doesn't like being around me much, though I don't know why. Besides, your wedding will not be for a long while, and Henri and I must celebrate."
"I know what your version of 'celebrate' is," Aida retorted, scowling at him in annoyance.
"Let the man have some fun before he's stuck with you for life," he said. "Play your mind games with Felicity, not me," Anthony hissed at her before joining Henri and leading him down in the crowd.
Gritting her teeth, Aida settled with glaring at her brother's retreating back before following down the stairs and plastering a smile on her face before going through the crowd to join Felicity near the back. "So, have you and my brother consummated the marriage yet?" she asked nonchalantly.
Felicity's face turned a deep shade of red and tears stung her eyes at both the memory and the words. "Yes, he did."
"Was it not the fairy tale you dreamed about?" she continued, inspecting her nails as her other hand played with her handkerchief.
"I-I never im-imagined it as anything m-more than m-my duty."
Aida let out a huff of boredom before giving up on her inspection to twirl the cloth between both hands. "Poor you. Common street whores have more fun than you."
"Aida!" Felicity exclaimed quietly. "What would your parents think of such language? Are you in the belief that I sell my body?" she hissed. "Your brother forced himself on me. He is a horrible…horrible man. A-And…" she trailed off, loosing the fight in her already as she attempted to explain her husband.
"Yes, he is," she stated plainly. "He once put worms in my bed. So you know what I did? I set fire to his clothes." Felicity merely stared at her in confusion. "The point of the story is do unto others what they do to you."
"I don't see how doing the opposite would help. If anything, he'd be overjoyed, the bastard."
"No, I didn't say that. Torment him. Dress ugly or something. Or dress provocative in a public place so that he can't do anything without risking some embarrassment or scandal."
As a waiter passed by, Felicity took a glass of offered wine and took a sip of it. "I'm not a loose woman like you, Aida. I will not flaunt my body to my own husband, much less any strangers."
"Well, you probably shouldn't set anything on fire," Aida advised, taking a long drink before pulling away. Honestly, she couldn't be any more bored.
"But that is what you did to gain Henri's attention. Flaunt yourself, that is. It never really made any sense to me, though, what you saw in him."
Aida stared at her as though she was crazy. "He's rich and handsome, what more is there? Honestly," she shook her head, "sometimes I worry about you."
"But what about him as a person? Do you even know him like I do?" A glare was immediately turned to Felicity, and Aida eyed her suspiciously.
"How do you know him?" she asked in a strange calmness.
"W-We were childhood friends. And close too, very close."
Aida watched her sharply. "Maybe you were. He's probably forgotten all about you."
"How do you know that?" she questioned, the defiance from earlier returning. "He showed up at the wedding, didn't he? Plus, he's been talking to me constantly on how he was…going to…propose to…you…"
"Exactly. Propose to me."
Felicity glared at Aida, her large brown eyes burning into her. It was at least one thing she had allowed herself to learn from Aida. "Eventually, dear sister, you're not going to get whatever you want. Henri, if anything, is not stupid."
"Neither am I, little sister," she said amiably.
"You can't keep up this charade forever. Sooner or later, people are going to notice. You pretend you're so sweet and innocent, but only to those that are worth a second thought from you."
"Why, Felicity! I don't have any idea what you mean."
"Just watch, Aida. Henri is going to see who you really are and call off the wedding."
Aida sighed, growing bored once again with the game Felicity was keeping up. "Oh, no, I'm so scared," she muttered. Felicity bit the end of her tongue, determined not to give in and cry in front of the other woman.
"I take it back. You're the worst, Aida. This is not some world where everyone is your doll to manipulate and control."
"That's what you think," she sang slightly.
"No, Aida, that's what I know," she spat. Glancing off to the side, she noticed the two men in their lives approach and quickly held her tongue, biting back the hate filled words she wanted to scream at her sister-in-law.
"It's grown terribly late, ladies," Henri said pleasantly. "I hope you don't mind us escorting you home."
Aida smiled, slipping her arm through his and moving closer as Felicity remained where she was. "No, of course not. I'd rather go home now anyway," she assured, kissing his cheek as he escorted her through the dispersing crowd and out to the awaiting carriage, Anthony and Felicity close behind.
Erik stared down onto the stage of the Opera Populaire, a stifled rage inside him as he watched life go by underneath him. Ballet girls did warm-ups and practiced a few moves while chattering amongst each other and the stage crew hurried about, placing up sets and props. The opera house was putting on its winter production, which Christine was unable to audition for because of her state. This meant that Carlotta had the chance to convince the managers how superior she was to the 'second-rate rat' and steal the role.
Though this angered him to great extents, he refrained himself from sending any threatening notes to the managers like before. Compared to how they ran the theatre before, they had vastly improved over the year. He supposed that he could let them go with this little slip up. But, then again, he just wasn't up to much tormenting today.
"I really should find a way to fire this brat," he muttered, his voice showing how bored he was as he played with a knife in his hand. He was still gazing down at the world below, smirking as the ballet rats quickly scattered upon the entrance of Carlotta and company. As usual, she was shrieking in Italian about some poor misfortune of hers. Erik sighed, her ranting never was interesting.
Waiting until her attendants moved away slightly as she continued ranting about, he flicked his wrist and watched as the knife skimmed past her ridiculous hat and landed squarely before her. Several ballet girls screamed and one even fainted as Carlotta stared in horror at the blade. "It's the Phantom of the Opera!" a girl's voice shrieked, causing even more panic to ensue. Erik chuckled darkly; it had been too long since he had wrecked a little anarchy.
Standing up from his comfortable seat, he watched as Carlotta began a string of curses in Italian before Firmin and André decided to step in. It's hardly fair, he thought. These poor people haven't had the pleasure of my entertainment in so long. Adjusting the strap holding his cape close, he turned from the catwalks and into one of his many secret passageways. He had been gone for many hours, and no doubt Christine was expecting him by now.
Quickly making his way through the maze of catacombs, he exited out of the dead air into the crisp night. Seeing the small house off in the distance, he let slip a small smile. Walking down the hill, it didn't take long for him to reach the door and open it so that he could enter. "I'm home," he called out softly. Almost instantly, Christine appeared from the hallway with a welcoming smile.
"Welcome home, Erik," she whispered, causing him to swell with happiness. "Don't talk too loud, I just got Jolee to sleep." Going up to her, he held her close to him and kissed the top of her head.
"And we should do the same. I'm starting to wonder why I even allowed you up and about. Come, ma chérie," he muttered, taking her hand in his and walking with her to their bedroom. An instant chill filled him, and he slightly glared at her. "Christine, you're going to catch your death in here."
"Jolee's room is much warmer," she insisted, smiling as Erik built up the fire in the fireplace and crawling under the covers. Removing himself of his excess clothes, he soon joined her and rested his head contently on the pillows, enjoying the growing warmth.
"If you don't start behaving, I might have to punish you," he whispered, wrapping his arms around her now small stomach and dragging her closer.
"Erik, no," she mumbled sleepily. "I just gave birth, dear. I'm not scared of you," she added, only to receive a chuckle in reply.
"I never said scared, darling," he commented, pulling her right up beside him. He had nearly forgotten how perfectly she fitted against him. "Am I allowed to at least kiss my wife goodnight?" he added, teasing.
"But of course," she laughed, leaning in to comply to his request, her hands on his chest. Almost instantly, his lips crushed over hers, stealing away her breath. His tongue ran along her lips, demanding entrance into the sweet haven. Submitting to his demands, a small moan escaped her throat as his tongue slid against hers.
Suddenly he pulled away, kissing her forehead chastely instead. "Now, now, Christine. Think of yourself," he said, taunting her. She merely smiled, curling up beside him and rested her head on his shoulder.
"How considerate you are," she whispered happily before closing her eyes. "But I'm exhausted, love. Good night."
"Good night, ma ange," he whispered back before settling into the soft bedding. It wasn't long until he fell into a deep sleep. He was dreaming of his wife, Christine, with children surrounding her. She was smiling and laughing, as were the six young ones at her feet. A warmth flooded Erik, and he felt at peace with the scene. However, the bright sky soon turned gray and the children began to run away, holding hands and waving goodbye. He wanted to call them back, to make them stay, but the voice of Christine stopped him. She too was fading into the growing darkness. Erik could tell she was giving him reassurance, telling him that their love was enough, but her words were muffled by the liquid night.
He awoke to his child screaming.
Christine jolted up from the bed and immediately got out, walking in the direction of Jolee's bedroom. Sighing, he sat up from the bed as well and followed after her. Approaching his child's bedroom, he leaned against the doorframe and smiled as he watched Christine pick up the screaming child. Though he was surrounding in darkness, enough light was given off from the full moon that rays of bright moonlight shone into the room, illuminating the whole room.
With the soft light bringing life to the room, Erik watched in silence as Christine picked up their newborn child and hold her close. "Shh, little one," she whispered, rocking her gently as she moved about the room. The chocolate curls the framed her face fell down in spiraling locks, hiding her face as she looked down at the face of her child. Slowly, her feet carried her to the rocking chair in the room as she began to sing a lullaby to her child. By now, Jolee's cries had quieted as she stared up curiously at her mother.
"Maybe I didn't love you quite as often as I could have…" she sang, slowly rocking her child as she did so. "And maybe I didn't treat you quite as good as I should have. If I made you feel second best, I'm so sorry, I was blind. You were always on my mind…always on my mind."
Remaining in his hidden space, he watched as Christine leaned back and continued with the song. The same one he had sung to her so long ago. A pang stab at his heart, and he was remained of the dream he had not more than five minutes ago. A slight fear overwhelmed him, and he wondered what was to happen to him when his daughter grew up and left them. Or when Christine would pass on into eternal sleep?
Morbid thoughts, he reprimanded himself on behalf of his wife. It surely would be what she would say, after all. "You handling okay?" he asked quietly, stepping out from the shadow and approaching her from behind the rocking chair. Leaning forward, he kissed her before gazing down at Jolee.
"She has your beautiful face," he noted, reaching a hand down to gently brush back a small curl.
"But your eyes," Christine added, smiling up at him. After a short reluctance, he nodded his head in agreement. He didn't like admitting that his beautiful daughter could be anything close in looks to…him. But upon closer inspection, he was surprised to find that his small child did indeed possess his emerald colored irises.
"Our little girl," Christine whispered, smiling as her child cooed as her father held out a finger for her enjoyment.
"Yes…" he agreed. "Ours…"
E: Erik has a wonderful announcement.
C: Yes, and I plan to kill you later for it. I told you, Erik, no more stories! Not until you get at least one finished!
E: *ignores completely* Erik is writing two brand new stories for all of your wonderful enjoyment! Erik has decided that, after reading so many parodies from just about every category I'm madly in love with, he should try his hand at it! My lovely little readers seem to enjoy these here authors notes—
C: —Still no reason to go off and write more stories! You've so much to catch up on because of your lack of writing and I will not be held responsible to the masses just because you decided to be lazy every Saturday—
E: —So he's decided that, for the sake of showing that he's a good sport, he's making one! Oh, Erik is so excited! Then Erik's putting up another E/C story.
C: *bangs head against the wall, realizing that she has no chance of winning Erik over and making him stop this insanity and that she was to deal with even more grammatical errors*
E: But the thing is, Erik isn't sure exactly where it's going. Like this story, I'm writing it with another friend in a roleplay. We're planning to make it three parts, and I'm writing part one. I need to ask if we're putting it on my account or hers.
C: *suddenly looks up in fear*
E: *evil grin* I never gave my fans Christine's account name…did I? Well it's—
C: *violently tackles* No! You can allow yourself to be mobbed, but you will not throw me under the bus! *ties up, gags, then throws into the Closet of Failed Ideas*
{To those readers who might be interested, the Corner of Depressed Writers and the Closet of Failed Ideas all exist in my room. Though Christine police taped my corner, I'm in the process of killing the bodyguard and laying siege until I retrieve it *winks*}
C: Sadly, he's not kidding… Now that we've rid ourselves of idiocy, I'll continue on. Everyone, please review. We really, really do enjoy reading them. I caught Erik reading over old ones a while ago and laughing his head off on…things he already read. Yes, he's a really simple child.
E: *muffled* I am not a child!
C: So, after you're done with that simple little task we ask of you, please look up for the next update. It should happen eventually. Erik claims that his computer is almost fixed, but he's been saying that for two months now, so I highly doubt it. Anyway, we'll both be seeing you next chapter. Till then!
