From Angel's Eyes
Chapter Fourteen
Neither Erik nor Christine had much spare time the following week, so they only managed to see each other properly a couple of times, going out for dinner twice.
On the Friday, a week before the Opening Night on the following Saturday, the orchestra arrived. Christine, Max and Tom watched incredulously as they set up in the orchestra pit below the stage.
"OK, this all got a little too professional." Max muttered. Christine nodded.
"Intimidation levels just rose."
"Isn't this a bit over-the-top for a university performance?" Tom commented, watching a man with a tuba clean his instrument.
"I guess they just want it to look really professional." Christine said, moving out of the way of a group of violinists.
Erik came out of the office and joined them.
"You all look rather ill." He commented. Max laughed, sounding a little panicky.
"Just going crazy."
"Why?"
"A full orchestra? Isn't this a little… big?" Christine asked. Erik arched an eyebrow.
"I'm not someone to do things by halves. As far as I'm concerned, this isn't a university production, this is a professional show. You all have the talent for it; I don't see why we shouldn't take advantage of that. Go and get into your costumes for Masquerade."
They all walked to the costume room in silence. June looked at them all suspiciously.
"What's got you three all depressed?"
"The orchestra."
"Get over it, we've got a show to put on and a week to do it in. Christine, your dress is on the rack, you two, yours are in the cupboard. Get moving."
Christine put on the pink dress and June deftly applied make-up, and then put the ring around her neck on a chain.
"There you go. Max, get out here." Max came out, pulling the mask on. June smeared dark make-up around his eyes to give the illusion of a skull with the mask. Christine began to hunt through the cupboard for the shoes to match her outfit. She pulled them out and put them on, heading for the door as Tom and Max finished their make-up.
Nadir and Erik were waiting by the piano, holding small microphone clips.
"You're going to need these once the orchestra starts." Nadir commented, clipping one to the front of Max's Red Death outfit. Erik took Christine's and deftly attached it to the edge of her dress. His fingers brushed against the ring and he checked the chain. There was a very thin link on the chain that Max would be able to break easily without hurting Christine.
"Are we all ready?" Dr Carter called. The three singers nodded and Erik said,
"We'll just run through a couple of sings first, so you can get used to the microphones. Then we'll try with actions. Let's see… Think of Me, The Phantom of the Opera and All I Ask of You first. Then we'll have Masquerade."
"Very well, Mr Destler." Dr Carter said, speaking with the conductor of the Orchestra. He was a tall, thin man with wildly curling grey hair and a trim moustache. Christine stared at him and then her mouth fell open.
Dr Carter beckoned Christine, Max and Tom forward.
"Come and meet Mr Austin." He said. Mr Austin smiled, shaking hands with Max and Tom and then he saw Christine.
"Good lord… Christine Danes! It is you, isn't it? Charles and Faith's girl?"
"Mark! I didn't know you were going to be coming here." Christine smiled. Mark Austin hugged her.
"How long has it been? Four, five years since I last saw you?"
"At least!"
"You know each other?" Dr Carter said, surprised. Mr Austin smiled brightly at him.
"I worked with Christine's parents in London. I've known Christine since she was born! I haven't seen her since she was just a child."
"I was at least fourteen." Christine protested.
"Christine, your parents worked in musicals?" Tom said in surprise. Mark laughed heartily.
"You didn't know? They were the Phantom and Christine in a performance of The Phantom of the Opera!"
Max and Tom stared at her and she went slightly pink. Max grinned.
"Keeping secrets like that. Honestly, Christine!"
"And you are our Christine Daae as well? Charles and Faith would have been delighted." Mark smiled. Christine smiled too, a little weakly.
"I know."
"Well, let's get rehearsing. I haven't heard you sing in years, I want to see how you sound!" Mark said. Christine moved towards the stage and Erik turned on her microphone.
"I didn't know you knew Mark Austin."
"I didn't know you did." Christine pointed out. Erik nodded and then turned to Mark. He moved in front of the orchestra and the music began, a solo piano piece to begin with. Christine sang the first verse, surprised at how loudly her voice echoed around the room with the microphone, and then had to take a step back as the music swelled loudly. But she managed to recover in time to sing her next line, glad for the microphone. This was certainly a big step from singing with a single piano or a soundtrack.
The rehearsal went quite well, although everyone seemed a bit overwhelmed by the sheer size of the orchestra. Nonetheless, they finished the rehearsal in good spirits. Everyone began to leave, looking forward to the weekend. Christine changed back into her normal clothes and gave the microphone clip to Dr Carter before turning to talk to Mark Austin. He smiled.
"How have you been, Christine? I was very sorry to hear about your parents."
"Thank you, Mark. I'm fine. It's been… hard, these last few years. But everything is coming back together now." Christine told him with a brief smile.
"I'm glad. You're a brave young woman. And you sing beautifully. I was quite astonished!"
Christine smiled and then turned as Erik put a hand on her shoulder. Mark smiled at him.
"Erik Destler, it's been quite some time."
"It has, Mr Austin."
"You've got a talented group here. I'm very impressed."
"Indeed, they are talented." Erik agreed. Christine smiled.
"Well you have to say that."
"You should know me well enough to know that I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it." Erik commented. Christine couldn't disagree with that. Mark smiled.
"It's an honour to be working with you again, Mr Destler, and with you, Christine."
"Thank you, Mr Austin. Come, Christine, the car is waiting."
"OK, I'll just get my bag."
Christine went to collect her things and then joined Erik at the door. Nadir was speaking with Dr Carter but soon came over.
"We all ready?" he said and they both nodded. When they reached Christine's house, Erik walked her to her door.
"Dinner tonight?" He asked, running his fingers over her hand.
"I'd love to." She smiled.
"7:30. I'll pick you up."
"OK."
He pressed his mouth to hers briefly before turning and going back to the car. Christine smiled as she unlocked the door. Trister bounded at her and she patted him.
"Good boy. Let's go for a walk."
After a quick walk around the park, Christine returned and saw that there were two messages on the machine. She pressed play as she pulled her shoes off.
"Hey, Christine, it's Meg. Want to catch a movie tomorrow night? Call me!"
"Hello Christine, it's Trisha. Just checking in. Everything alright with you? Give me a ring when you get in, I want to hear how the musical is going!"
Christine smiled and called Meg first, leaving a message on her machine telling her that she did want to see a film. Then she rang her aunt.
"Hi Trisha, it's me."
"Hello Christine, how are you?"
"I'm fine, how are Jack and the girls?" Christine said, going into the kitchen to pour herself a cold drink as she listened to Trisha's news.
"So, how's the musical going?" Trisha asked cheerfully.
"It's great. We had the orchestra in for the first time today. It was so loud, I was grateful for the microphone! Oh, by the way, what night do you want tickets for?"
"Let's go for the last night, that's a Friday, isn't it? We can drive over and see you at your prime."
Christine smiled and wrote a note to herself to buy them tickets. Trisha didn't know about her and Erik, for which she was rather relieved. She wasn't sure how her aunt would react.
"OK, I'll pick them up next week. Anyway, how are you feeling Trisha?"
"I'm great. I've been for a few tests and everything, just to make sure the baby is developing properly. Mel and Kelly are both hoping it's a boy, and I think Jack is too."
"Yeah, I want a boy cousin!" Christine laughed.
After a few minutes of further conversation, Trisha had to go to pick the girls up from a club. Christine hung the phone up and sank onto the sofa to watch some TV. Trister jumped up beside her, curling up with his head on Christine's lap as she flicked through the channels. There was very little on and she switched the set off, stroking Trister's head. He nuzzled his face against her and she kissed the soft fur on the top of his head. He looked up at her with big brown eyes and she smiled, unable to resist his adorable features.
"Oh, you're so darn cute." She scolded him. "Come on, let's get you some dinner."
After she scraped the contents of the dog food tin into his bowl, Christine headed upstairs to take a shower. She dressed quickly and went to the music room, playing as she waited for Erik to come for her. Trister lay next to the piano, chewing on a dog toy. It squeaked loudly and Christine looked down in irritation, the noise having interrupted the song she was playing. She began again but Trister squeaked the toy again. She reached down to take it from him but he darted away, tail wagging furiously. She grinned and chased after him and they rushed through the house, Christine almost falling down the stairs as Trister changed direction halfway up and went barrelling into her legs. Whilst they were running around the doorbell rang. Christine pulled it open, red in the face and breathless. Erik looked at her in surprise.
"What's going on?" He asked curiously. She grinned and panted.
"Be with you in a moment."
She had spotted Trister looking out of the living room, the toy in his mouth and dived after him. Erik watched in incredulity and amusement as Christine rushed after the dog, finally grabbing holding of the toy, falling over the coffee table, landing on her backside and waving the toy triumphantly in the air."
"I win!" She crowed delightedly. Trister barked and jumped on her. She dropped the toy, he picked it up and ran away. Christine laughed, getting to her feet and brushing herself down. Erik lifted an eyebrow.
"And this is how you entertain yourself?"
"The long winter evenings just fly by." Christine replied solemnly, pushing her hair out of her face. Trister reappeared, having safely hidden his toy and went to sniff at Erik. He stroked the dog's head as Christine picked up her bag and locked the back door.
"Ready?" He asked her and she nodded. They said goodbye to Trister and then walked down the front path to the waiting car. Erik opened the passenger door for Christine and then walked around to the driver's seat.
Since their first dinner out, Erik had taken to asking Nadir's opinion of where to take Christine. Nadir had been highly amused by this at first but had taken the job seriously, searching out restaurants that were small enough to ensure privacy, but large enough that the pair could interact properly. Nadir had known Erik for a very long time and in all that it he had never seen Erik as infatuated with someone as he appeared to be with Christine Danes. He had been with a few women, of course, mostly met around the various theatres and opera houses they had been at over the years, but they had always been short-lived relationships.
But now he had Christine. As Erik drove to the restaurant Nadir had recommended for the evening, he spoke lightly with Christine about the show and how the orchestra played and a few other little details. Christine commented on how well the dancers were doing and Erik agreed.
They reached the restaurant and sat at a small table in the corner with drinks and menus. Erik glanced across at Christine and couldn't help smiling to himself. How strange it seemed to him. How odd that he, Erik Destler, could be sat as any other person in a restaurant with a woman as beautiful as Christine opposite him. Not that long ago it would have seemed impossible.
"What are you smiling about?" She asked curiously. Erik looked up quickly. She was watching him with a curious expression on her face. Erik shook his head.
"Nothing in particular. What would you like to eat?"
"I think I'll have the Thai chicken." She said, glancing down at the menu. She closed it and set it down in front of her. Erik watched her closely, fascinated by the way she moved. It was smooth and elegant, almost like a dancer and with a slight half-smile playing about her mouth, pushing back a lock of dark hair, the lights reflecting in her soulful brown eyes.
"You're doing it again!" She said. He blinked in surprise.
"Doing what?"
"Just at there smiling to yourself. Come on, what are you smiling about?" She demanded. He raised an eyebrow.
"I was just thinking how lovely you looked."
She flushed and said,
"Why is it every time I start getting annoyed with you, I always end up looking bad? Like that time after the fixture nearly hit me and I was talking to you in the office and I yelled at you."
"Actually, I was annoyed that day. I just found it more amusing to see the look on your face." Erik smirked. She looked at him in astonishment.
"I knew it! Why were you annoyed?"
"Well… I'd just seen Max Hodges kissing you and…" He fell silent. Christine stared at him. And then she smiled.
"Were you jealous?" She asked. Erik didn't reply. Christine tapped his foot with hers underneath the table. "Answer me! Come on, let's have an honest relationship."
"Fine, yes, I was jealous." Erik said crossly.
Christine laughed delightedly at having made him admit it. Erik reached across the table and grasped her hand, smirking.
"So let's be honest. What was going on that day you first practised Down Once More, when you kissed young Mr Hodges?"
Christine flushed and stared down at her lap. Erik smirk widened and he tapped her foot teasingly.
"Come on. I answered yours, you answer mine."
"I don't want to." Christine told him.
"I didn't want to tell you. Be fair."
"Oh… fine. If you must know… well, you know how I'd fallen asleep?" He nodded and Christine took a breath to strengthen her resolve. "I…I had a dream about you."
"Really?" Erik seemed delighted and Christine pulled a face at him.
"Yes, really."
"What sort of dream?"
"Don't be disgusting, it was nothing like that." Christine scolded him. She sighed. "If you must know… I dreamt that you were showing Max how to do the scene and… and when it got to the part where Christine kisses the Phantom, I kissed you and then… then I woke up. And then you told us to do the scene and I just couldn't help it, because I kept thinking about you and- stop laughing!"
Erik had fallen back in his seat, shaking uncontrollably with silent laughter. Christine felt the blood rush to her face and she glared at him.
"Stop it! It's not funny, think about poor Max. It was horrible afterwards, and I shouted at him and everything! Oh… you're impossible." She folded her arms, pouting as Erik composed himself. He breathed calmly and then looked across at her.
"Quite done now?" She asked haughtily. He smiled.
"Yes, thank you."
They were interrupted by an awkward looking waitress, who seemed surprised at Christine's glare and Erik's smirk. She hastily put down the plates and hurried back to the kitchen. Erik and Christine exchanged a glance.
"I think we'd better double her tip." Erik commented and Christine nodded.
"Poor girl."
They looked at each other again and then both looked away, smiling to themselves as they began to eat. Eventually Erik said,
"I'm sorry for laughing at you."
"And I'm sorry for… no, wait. I'm really not." She said sweetly. Erik arched his eyebrow and she stuck her tongue out.
As they walked out to the car later that evening Erik asked,
"Do you have any plans for tomorrow?"
"I'm going to see a film with Meg tomorrow night, but that's it."
"Would you like to…?" He left the sentence unfinished, kissing her hand lightly. Christine smiled, facing him as they reached the car.
"Yes. I would."
They drove to the house without talking. Not through awkwardness, but because neither of them needed to talk. At the house, Christine noticed that none of the servants came to meet them. Erik must have told them to go home early. He took her coat, hanging it in a cloakroom. Then he smiled.
"A drink?"
"Please." She replied, following him to a room. He poured her some wine and they sat in front of the fireplace to drink and talk. She hesitated after a while and then said quietly,
"Can I ask about your past?"
He looked at her sharply and then said,
"What would you like to know?"
"Everything."
"That's a lot of information."
"I'm not going anywhere." She pointed out. Erik considered her and then settled back on the sofa beside her. She sat sideways, so she was facing him as he spoke.
He had been born in London, to wealthy parents. They had been trying for a child for a long time and finally his mother fell pregnant. But when he had arrived… he was not what they had expected. The disfigurement had caused his parents much anguish and he grew up out of the eye of the public, rarely leaving the house. When he was ten, he was admitted for surgery to correct the disfigurement. But the surgery had failed, time and time again. By the time he was fifteen he had had eleven operations and the doctors told his parents that they could do no more for him. A lost cause, Erik noted bitterly.
His mother had died when he was nearly sixteen. Cancer. In her final hours, she refused to see him. She had rarely wanted to see him and Erik had pleaded with his father to be allowed to go to her. But it was no good. Erik had not attended her funeral, staying locked in his room with his music. Because that was all he had. His father had had music teachers sent to him since he was a young boy, anything to keep him busy as his parents moved from dinner to party to social event.
Erik didn't know what his father's business had been. He wasn't sure all of it was particularly within the bounds of the law, either. But whatever it was, it had earned him a massive fortune, improved further by extreme skill in the stock markets. But his father had died suddenly, unexpectedly one night. A heart attack. He wasn't found until the next morning. By then it had been too late.
At that time, Erik had been a little over twenty and still he knew very little of the world outside his parent's house. Only what he had read and heard. But the few times he had left the house, it had been to visit his local theatre. He was known there and when his father died and he had power over his fortune, he funnelled a lot of money into the theatre. The managers had been more than a little grateful, offering him the finest seats.
But Erik hadn't wanted seats. He had wanted to create. He wrote his first opera and gave it to the managers who agreed to put it on. It was the only opera Erik ever wrote, although he wrote singular pieces of music, but he was soon directing and producing shows and being paid generously for it. He was soon being asked to produce shows in opera houses and theatres all over the place. Paris, America, Japan, Australia, China…
"What made you stop?" Christine asked. Erik sighed and sipped his wine.
"I saw too much."
"Too many shows?"
"No, Music is the one thing I could never tire of. The people I had to work with… well, I did not always get along with them. I decided to stop until I could find it within myself to work again. I returned to my home here. That was two years ago. I kept myself busy writing music and I went to several shows at the Opera House in town."
"When did you meet Nadir?"
"At the Opera House in London. I hired him almost immediately and he's been with me ever since." Erik said.
Christine sat in silence for a moment, thinking about all that he had told her. Erik watched her, wondering what thoughts were flowing through her mind. Eventually she said,
"And the university musical?"
"Nadir's fault. He had heard that it was being put on and mentioned it to me. I had him contact Dr Carter, saying I wanted to sponsor and help produce it."
She smiled briefly and said,
"And then you showed up for the auditions."
"I did. And I saw a young woman sat at the back of the room, waiting to audition and suggested that she take her turn to sing." Erik smiled.
"And now you can't get rid of her." Christine said in a falsely serious tone. Erik smirked.
"So it would appear. Now, it's your turn. Tell me everything."
Christine settled back in her seat with a smile.
"There's really not much that you don't already know. I'm twenty-one, I've lived in this town my whole life, with my parents until March 18th two years ago. I have some family, my dad's sister and her family. I've had a couple of boyfriends, but none after my parents died. My best friend is Meg Grayson. I don't really know many other people. At the end of the summer I'll be starting my final year at university. And after that… I haven't thought that far ahead really." She admitted.
"Something in theatre?"
"I hope so."
She ran a finger around the edge of the wineglass, making a strange echoing noise with the liquid. They sat in silence, the only sound that of the glass. Eventually Christine took her finger from the rim of the glass and said slowly,
"I think that you must be a lot stronger than I am."
"Why would you think that?" Erik asked. She shrugged and said,
"Because I'm still holding on. You managed to let go of the past, you've built up this life for yourself. I still can't move a thing in my parent's room."
"Just because you want to remember them doesn't mean that you're weak." Erik said firmly.
Christine didn't speak. She looked down at the glass, frowning slightly.
"…I haven't been to their graves since the funeral. Two years and I haven't…"
"Christine, you are not weak." Erik insisted. She looked up at him and then put her glass down.
"I don't know. I just-"
Erik cut her off by pressing his mouth to hers. For a moment she couldn't do anything except welcome his kiss. And then her mind went blank.
Christine couldn't sleep. It was early the next morning and there was a watery morning light peeking through the curtains. Erik was sleeping beside her, their legs entangled and his arm draped around her waist. His rhythmic breathing made her smile, but thoughts plagued her and she knew they would not leave her until she had done what they commanded.
Reluctantly she slipped out of the bed, washed quickly in the bathroom and then pulled on her clothes. Christine glanced over at the bed. Erik was lying with his scarred side pressing into the pillows. She crossed and pressed her lips to his cheek before slipping out of the room.
She made her way down the steps and hurried across the entrance hall.
"Where are you going?" She jumped and turned to see Nadir standing in a doorway, looking at her curiously. She said,
"I… there's something I have to do."
"Where's Erik?" Nadir asked, frowning.
"He's still sleeping. I didn't want to wake him." Christine explained. Nadir didn't look happy.
"Couldn't you wait until he wakes up before leaving?"
"No. I have to do this. I'll see you later." Christine said, opening the door and going through. Nadir frowned again and turned to go to the kitchen. Somehow he sensed his employer wasn't going to be happy about this.
Christine had never liked graveyards. Somehow the warm sunshine wasn't able to penetrate the walls of the cemetery as she picked her way through the rows. In one damp hand she clutched a bouquet of flowers.
Suddenly the two graves were before her. She swallowed hard. Moss and grass had crept over the two headstones, almost blocking out the names. She knelt and clumsily brushed away the greenery, scraping at the stone until it was all cleared.
Charles Danes
1957 – 2003
Beloved Husband and Father
Faith Danes
1961 – 2003
Beloved Wife and Mother
Christine laid the bouquet in the small strip of green grass between the graves and reread the inscriptions. Other graves around her had poems or little messages on them but Christine hadn't been able to think of anything to say when asked what she wanted on them.
She hesitated and then whispered,
"Hi Mum. Dad. I'm… I'm sorry I haven't been here. I guess I was… afraid." She looked down at her hands. They were dirty from the earth and plants.
"A lot's been happening. I'm in the university summer show. The Phantom of the Opera, of all things. I'm Christine. You always knew I would be."
Christine sat with her parents for a good twenty minutes before she found she couldn't speak further. She swallowed hard, a lump rising in her throat. Tears pricked her eyes and she looked up at the blue sky, trying not to let them out.
"I miss you so much…" She whispered, her voice painfully tight. "I wish you were here."
He had woken and compulsively reached out for her only to find there was nothing there. He yawned, sitting up and looking around.
"Christine?"
But her clothes were gone. Erik frowned and climbed out of bed, pulling on some clean clothes before venturing downstairs. There was no one around, the servants off in separate rooms, doing their jobs.
"Christine?" He called again. No reply. He headed for the kitchens but a voice said,
"She's gone."
He turned and saw Nadir in the Entrance Hall.
"What do you mean gone?"
"About half an hour ago. She said she had something to do but she didn't want to wake you." Nadir waited for the explosion but, to his surprise, none came. Erik simply stared at him, frowning slightly.
"Erik? Are you… alright?"
"Hmm. Yes. Yes, I know where she's gone. Bring the car around."
Christine stood and brushed her hair out of her face, wiping away the tears on her cheeks, forcing herself to breathe calmly.
"Christine?"
She turned and blinked.
"Max… what are you doing here?" He gestured to a grave a little way off.
"My grandfather. Are you…?" His eyes settled on the two graves. Christine hastily rubbed her face, trying to disguise her tears. Max stepped towards her.
"Are you OK?"
"Yeah… well, I've been better. This is the first time I've… come to see them." She said weakly. Max frowned.
"It's OK to cry, you know. Everyone does it."
Christine shook her head.
"I've cried enough for today. I just realised how much I miss them." She looked at Max and smiled, although her eyes shone with moisture. Max smiled slightly and hugged her. She wrapped her arms around him and he said quietly,
"I miss my Grandad too. I know it's not the same but…"
He didn't finish. They stood hugging each other for some time. Eventually Christine stepped back and smiled.
"Thanks Max."
"No problem." He replied and smiled down at her. "You're out early."
"I couldn't sleep. I felt like I had to do this. I don't know why I had to do it now, but…" She ran a hand through her hair and grimaced. "I probably should have showered first."
"Yeah, you do smell a little ripe." Max said, wrinkling his nose with a smile. Christine pushed his arm.
"Well, what are you doing out this early? You barely have your eyes open during rehearsals."
"Couldn't sleep either. So I figured I'd come and give Grandad a visit. I can't say I expected anyone else to be here."
"Neither did I. I wasn't really thinking. I just got up and came straight here." Christine admitted. She looked at her watch.
"I'd better go home. The dog needs walking." She hesitated and then kissed his cheek. "And thanks."
"You're welcome." Max grinned.
Christine turned and they started to walk towards the gates to the cemetery. But she stopped. Walking along the street, away from her, was Erik. She frowned.
"Erik?" He didn't stop. Christine stared after him and Max said,
"What's wrong?"
"I… I don't know. Hang on." She started to run after Erik. He was pulling open the door to the car but she caught his arm before he could get in.
"Erik, wait!"
He looked down at her and she frowned at the expression on his face.
"Erik, what's the matter?" He didn't reply, looking past her. She turned and saw Max standing awkwardly further up the street. She looked back at Erik in dismay.
"Erik, you don't think-"
"Excuse me. I have a busy day." He said coldly, pulling out of her grasp. He slammed the car door shut and pulled away before Christine could move. She stared after him.
"What was all that about?" Max asked. Christine shook her head.
"I… I've got to go. I'll see you on Monday."
When Christine got home she went to the phone to see if there were any messages. There were none. She frowned and dialled the number for Erik's house. A servant picked up.
"Hello, is Erik Destler there please?" Christine asked.
"I'm afraid he's out. Would you like me to take a message?"
"Yes, please. Can you tell him that… that Christine called and could he please call back?"
"I will."
"Thank you."
She hung up and stared at the phone. Trister pressed his nose into her hands, seeking attention. She sighed and hugged him.
"I screwed up, Trister. Well and truly." Christine muttered. Trister simply nuzzled her cheek and she sighed, knowing what he wanted. She picked up his leash, clipped it into his collar and they left.
"So what am I supposed to do?" Christine asked Meg as they walked to the cinema that evening. Meg said,
"Nothing. You've left him a message; it's up to him to make the next move. If he doesn't call tomorrow, you'll see him on Monday anyway."
"But-"
"Don't call him!" Meg ordered and Christine glared at her.
"OK, fine. I won't call him."
They headed for the movie theatre to buy tickets. But Christine froze in her tracks and groaned.
"Oh, this can't be happening…"
Ahead of them were Rebecca and Terri, as well as several of their friends. Meg looked at Christine.
"What's up?"
"Girls from the show. Come on, let's just get some seats. Preferably on the other side of the theatre to them."
"Oh, look. It's the local whore. Taking a night off from shagging the producer, Christine?" Terri spat. Meg glared at her.
"Who the hell does she think she is?" She asked Christine. Christine shook her head.
"Come on, Meg, let's just go. I suddenly don't feel like watching a movie."
"Are you sure?" Meg asked. Christine nodded and looked distastefully at the girls who were watching them.
"Yeah. Let's go."
As they walked out Christine sighed.
"Now, just to make a bad day worse, I've got a headache."
"Want to go home?"
"Yeah. Want to sleep over?"
"Sure, sounds good. Let's call by my place so I can pick some stuff up." Meg said. She linked arms with her friend. "Don't worry about it, Christine. You're a great person and things are going to work out for you."
"I hope you're right, Meg." Christine said. "I really hope you're right."
A/N: I'm so mean. Well, I couldn't let them be happy for a WHOLE chapter! That would be ridiculous! Actually, I don't think I really like this chapter. It just seems like too much filler. Oh well… tell me what you think.
And, for those of you who don't know, Live 8 is the big music concert for charity, the one that Bob Geldof is organising. It's going to be fantastic - AND I HAVE TICKETS!
Yes, I am still at schoo. I had a month off for study leave and now I'm back at school until the end of term, around the 20th July. Wah.
Lotsa luv 'n' huggles
Katie
