The woman was gone once he awoke, and Erik couldn't say he was surprised. 'She's ashamed, and so am I. I couldn't protect her!'
Erik rolled onto his back and put his hands over his face, groaning slightly in his unhappiness. He had much to do that day- phone calls to make, first and foremost. His opera would be showing for the rest of the week, but he would be needed back at the Metropolitan opera house soon to begin initial procedures on the next production. He had to speak with Maron about acquisitions from Italy, he also needed to check in with Derek at the university.
But most importantly, he had to find a way to get Christine out of harm's way. She had done nothing to earn this, to be trapped as a dancer. He wasn't a fool, Erik knew that the police had somehow roped her into acting as a civilian spy using some form of manipulation- perhaps not completely illegal, but most definitely immoral, and Erik knew the reason why.
Christine had no family, no real friends. If anything happened to her over the course of the narcotics investigation, she would be seen as collateral damage, but nothing for New York's finest to lose sleep over.
'I won't let them do this- they see the big picture, they don't see Christine. I understand why, but she is not alone anymore. She is mine, as I am hers, and I will find a way to fix this...'
"Erik, are you going to lie in bed all day?"
Startled, Erik sat up to find Christine in the doorway. Sleek and dressed, ready for the day, she was smirking at him. A steaming mug of coffee was in her hands and she moved to him, holding it out to him. "I thought you might need one of these,"
Erik took the mug from her and took a sip, raising his brows at the sweet cinnamon she'd added for him. "Thank you, it's wonderful."
Christine sat on the edge of the bed, facing him. She glanced away for a moment. "Erik, we have to walk the dogs, let's go to the park for a little while."
He nodded. "You don't, ah, when do you have to go in and start this fiasco?" he asked, irritated by the situation, not her.
She bit her lip, "Well, the club doesn't open until noon, so I have some time…and I want to spend it with you,"
Erik nodded. "Right. Give me ten minutes, I'll be ready."
The walk through the park was easy going, but very quiet. Erik couldn't find anything to say. It was as if a leaden rock of shame had formed in his stomach- he couldn't speak, it pained him to look at her beautiful face and know that in mere hours she would be dancing, writhing on a stage for a full room of lusting men…
Christine glanced at Erik. He was scowling straight ahead, the glare of his unmarred face made a perfect match to the scowling contours of his mask. She'd long since given up on making conversation with him; he could see right through her. Christine couldn't pretend that everything was fine between them, he already knew her too well.
'Well, at least the pups are happy,' she thought glumly as the dogs happily walked ahead of them.
The next few hours were spent in separation- Christine returned to the guestroom and kept Snow with her, while Erik and King held their own before the fire. She shed a tear for what she was being forced to do, but Christine refused to let her thoughts linger.
'I'm so sick of crying and being weak!' She raged silently, pacing the length of the room. 'I've had enough, I'm sick and tired of being manipulated- I hate it!'
Christine took a brush and ran it through her hair, roughly, and went through her purse in search of her makeup. It was still there, the dark, garish shades. She hated them, loathed them actually, but what could she do? Her only option was to go back to dancing, and find out whatever evidence was necessary to get May into the hands of the police.
Christine looked into the mirror, angry and determined to end it all as quickly as she could. 'Who knows, maybe something will happen and the police can catch her by the end of today!'
It was a long shot, very unlikely, but the thought gave her hope that Erik's words would be true again, that she'd be safe with him.
"Hey, look at you! Sugar daddy's obviously been giving up the goods," Tawny greeted her as Christine slinked into the dressing room. A few of the other girls turned to look at her, but on the whole she wasn't very interesting.
Only Tawny, with her keen eye for fashion, noticed the change in her wardrobe.
Tawny approached her with a playful eye. "Let me see now…se7en jeans, a Ralph Lauren coat over a Chanel blouse, and- oh my God, are those new Blahniks?!" She demanded, quickly kneeling to inspect Christine's shoes. "Holy shit, these aren't supposed to be out for another three months!"
Christine took a deep breath. Fashion was the last thing on her mind while she was trapped in this nightmare. Erik had barely spoken to her all morning and he'd left the loft before her, she hadn't even been able to say goodbye before she had to leave or risk being late to work.
She cleared her throat and began to undress. "I, um, yeah. He took me shopping, it was nice,"
Tawny took one of Christine's shoes and reverently examined it in her hands. "I'd say it was more than nice, you're wearing over $1,000 of designer labels!" She reached forward and lifted Christine's blouse, revealing her lace bra.
Christine shrank back, "Hey, hey, what are you doing?"
"Whoa! La Perla?! Where'd you find this guy? God, you've got to show me where the great men are. Look at this attention to detail- I'd give my left arm for a guy with half as much appreciation for the clothes that make a woman!" Tawny said in admiration.
Christine rolled her eyes. "Yeah, that's what it's all about, right? The guys with the big paychecks…"
Tawny wiggled her brows, "Look who's finally come around! I guess the opera was a new experience, huh?"
Christine didn't want to think of that night; Erik was the last thing she wanted to think about. 'I can't think of him. His name…God! I have to get through this! Relax, it'll be just like any other day. Christine, you're going to have to pretend for just a little longer…'
She took a deep breath, wincing slightly at the mixed scents of cigarette smoke, bar food, and perfume. It was a scent she knew well from her months of dancing, but it was hard to forget the breath of fresh air that Erik had given her.
She moved to sit at her place before the long running counter and put a hand to her temple as she looked at herself in the mirror.
Tawny put a hand on her shoulder, "Are you okay, Diamond?"
…Diamond…
Christine nodded and took another deep breath, clearing her mind and gathering her nerve, stifling her anger and disgust; there was only one way that she would be able to get through this, and she did want to get through with it, once and for all. Anything to keep Erik from the ruin that he would surely face if the situation were to be leaked to the tabloids. She cared for him too much to let him be hurt by this mess- he'd done nothing to deserve it.
'How could I have refused the detective's offer? I can't let anything happen to-"Are you going to sit there all day staring at yourself or are you going to dance?"
Christine glanced up to see May standing in the reflected doorway. She had dyed her hair again, going lighter this time, so far blonde that her hair nearly matched Christine's. "I'm…I'm sorry, I'm almost ready,"
May lit a cigarette and rolled her eyes. "I see he's done his usual number on you. Don't you be getting' any ideas, Diamond. A new set of clothes and a haircut doesn't make you anything special to him. You're onstage in five minutes, put on your game face." She ordered as she turned and stepped out of the dressing room and ascended the stairs that led up to the management office.
Christine turned back to the mirror, and felt her thoughts take on a vicious turn. Diamond was stirring beneath the surface, waking up, angrily.
'The police need hard evidence, real proof that May is behind everything. All right, I'll give them what they want, I'll do whatever it takes to deliver May's head on a silver platter!'
Feeling fierce and determined, ready to dance in wild anger, ready to bring down the roof with her mayhem, Christine took out her makeup bag and made quick work of bringing Diamond back into the world.
She stared at herself; her eyes ringed in daring violet, her lashes heavy with mascara, and her lips slick with dark gloss. Christine twitched her mouth, searching for the perfect smirk, that flash of the eye and hint of attitude that helped to ease the transition.
The pulsing music could be heard from the main stage, a song that she's danced to for weeks. Christine hated that song, but Diamond loved it. The lyrics screamed through the speakers, the chorus following suit. Against her will, Christine began to tap her foot along with the beat of the base line.
Diamond woke up inside of her, restless and more than ready to wreak havoc against May.
'You know why you're here, and you know what you have to do- for Erik, you need to get through this, and the longer you sit here, the longer it will take. Are you going to let that hag get away with talking to you that way? With using you like this?! Christine, get off your ass and nail her!'
Christine nodded to her reflection, "Whatever you say,"
In a swift move, she leapt up out of her chair, knocking it on the floor, and blocked everything but one goal from her mind.
The audience was heavy for it being so early in the day, and the men cheered as Diamond stormed the stage.
The hunt was on for information; before Erik, Christine had merely hated dancing. It had been a means to an end- a way to pay the mounting pile of medical bills for her mother. She'd been desperate for money, and had at one time been convinced that there was nothing medical science could not accomplish. Christine had had neurosurgeon specialists come in to run every test and administer every developmental drug known to man in the hopes of bringing her mother back.
It had been a useless exercise, and monumentally expensive.
She'd given up hope for her mother's recovery long after every doctor had shook his head and given her that look of apologetic pity. There was simply nothing they could do.
The dancing had gone a long way towards the bills, as her living expenses were minor at best. Christine had lived in a tiny room above a bakery in Chinatown where one could go for hours and not hear a word of English. She hadn't minded- having no friends meant that there was no one to entice her to a girl's night out, which could be expensive.
Her appearance had suffered. Christine's clothes had grown out of style and overworn, her hair had grown too long and ragged, while her body had become a touch too thin and dark circles had began to show beneath her eyes. It was hell- but Christine had returned to the club, night after night, with only the goal of money on her mind.
She'd never dreamed that someone like Erik would take notice, or if she had, she certainly hadn't thought her life could have taken such a wonderful turn.
Now she had a man that cared for her and had gone to great lengths just to show how well he could provide. Their weekend together had been a dream, one wonderful surprise after another- but too easily that dream was torn from her mind.
'I have to dance, and I will. I'll find out who's buying the drugs, and where to find them- I'll let the police know where to set up a sting; anything to never have to do this again!'
Christine hated dancing, displaying herself in such a way, and so like many of the girls had suggested, she'd created a stage persona for herself. This is how Diamond became more than just a name, she became part of Christine.
Diamond loathed dancing, but all she saw were the dollars being tossed onto stage and slipped into the straps of her thong. She knew how to manipulate the audience with her movements and how to tempt the men into private dances. Sometimes it was easier to dance privately- it was quieter, at any rate, and more often than not the men only wanted some exclusive attention- it was a reprieve from demanding jobs and stressful homes. So far there had been no trouble, but Christine had sense enough to know that that was only a matter of time.
Diamond had learned how to take over, to show such immense confidence onstage and off, that there were times when Christine would have to tap into Diamond's attitude for that extra bit of strength when she needed it.
Diamond was angry, and pushed Christine to the side as she stormed onto the stage, her moves matching the music. The men cheered and tossed money as she writhed like a wild animal, slowly shedding her tiger-print costume to give hints of the svelte body underneath. The skin-tight vest had a front zipper that she lowered inch by inch, teasing and taunting the men as more money littered the stage floor.
Christine closed her eyes and pulled the zip apart, baring her breasts. The cheering men grew louder and even more money was tossed at her feet.
Diamond spoke to her, 'This is no place for you, Christine. Let me handle this,'
Christine was only too happy to surrender control.