"L'Ange de la Musique"
Chapter 7
"Starting Anew"
"Follow me please!" Mme. Giry repeated as she strolled rapidly through a hallway. Erik and Christine followed Mme. Giry closely, wondering where would she take them.
They went through the long hallway, glancing at the doors that stood sideways across the hall. After some minutes, Mme. Giry approached a dusty-looking door at the far end, and examined it.
She lifted her hand and brushed away some dust to reveal a golden worn-out plaque. In it, it featured the words 'OFFICE'. It looked pretty old and battered. She brushed some more dust underneath the plaque and revealed yet another one, but this one was smaller and it featured the words "Monsieur Toulouse Tussette".
Christine and Erik gawked curiously at the name in the little plaque. Who was this man? Why was the door so dusty and worn-out? Mme. Giry noticed their stare and rounded on them.
"Don't mind the name." She said, "This man left long ago. Just before you came, Christine."
Christine looked slightly surprised, unlike Erik, who wore a tired expression.
"He was the Voice Teacher back then."
"Really?" Christine said curiously, " I didn't know there were Voice Teachers before. Why did he left?"
Erik gave a little sigh and rolled his eyes slightly.
"Well…" Mme.Giry mumbled, "His voice wasn't very good…and you, more than anyone Erik, must know."
Erik nodded and gave another desperate sigh as a memory drifted back to his mind.
"Lets just say that I had a sudden urge to kill something whenever I heard his voice." Erik said, "I always tried to get him sick to prevent him from singing. I was very young, so I was incapable of committing a real murder", Christine stared at him incredulously at his lack of subtleness with such a thing, but Erik was oblivious to this and continued his explication, "so I limited myself to pouring freezing cold water over him in winter time whenever he exited the opera, trying to make him catch a cold."
Erik smirked mischievously. Christine frowned at him accusingly and Erik shrugged, faking innocence.
"Yes, but you never succeeded." Mme. Giry chuckled. Erik's smirk disappeared.
"Thank you for reminding me of my frequent failures at my attempts…" Erik declared sarcastically, glaring at Mme.Giry.
"He never got sick, no matter how many times Erik poured freezing water over him, stole his winter clothes, or left open the window at night. Monsieur Tussette never got ill." Mme. Giry said, "He was quite resistant."
"Yes, but," Christine started, a confused tone in her voice, " What does Erik's childish behavior have to do with Monsieur Tussette's retirement?"
"Childish?" Erik retorted indignantly, but Christine ignored him.
"Nothing really." Mme. Giry admitted, in deep thought while Erik crossed his arms, "Anyway. He was a terrible teacher. He was a very grumpy man. His face was always in a deep frown. He was very narcissist and only thought of himself. He thought he possessed a talent "the gods had given him", although people thought otherwise; they thought the "gods" had cursed him."
"Let's leave it simple," Erik interrupted, "something like Carlotta, only that it was in a male version."
"I…see…" Christine said, giggling at Erik's comment. Erik grinned and Mme. Giry chuckled again.
"So, he got fired." Mme. Giry said, "And other people came, trying to acquire the post. No one succeeded, for a toad always got stuck in their throat whenever they tried to apply…" Here, Mme. Giry glanced at Erik, who looked away in an innocent way.
"Since no one knew Erik, they thought the post was haunted by Monsieur Tussette's ghost. You know how the crew is always superstitious about these things."
"It's a complete nonsense, in my opinion." Erik said. "Ghosts… who would ever believe in ghosts or ghouls? There are not such things as spirits and lost souls, or anything of the sort."
"Look who's talking, Mr. Opera Ghost." Christine teased, smirking at him.
"I…er…" Erik tried to defend himself, "that was a total different case." He said, trying to look calm and formal, but Christine caught a slight blush on his cheek from the embarrassment of being corrected by someone about something he said.
"I don't think any Voice Teacher lasted long. Either by Erik's interference or not, something always drove them away." Mme. Giry said, "Voice teachers always ran the worst of lucks. Some of them even died some days later if they DID acquire the post. Unfortunate calamities always fell upon them. That is why the post has been vacant ever since. Suffering and disaster awaited those who tried to apply."
"Why, thank you for the encouraging words…" Erik said sarcastically. "Your support outstands me."
Mme. Giry smiled "You'll need all the support you can get, Erik. You need to impress them."
Erik sighed and frowned slightly, dropping his gaze, "I know."
Mme. Giry smiled again and placed a hand on his cheek.
"Everything is going to be fine, they just have to get used to you."
"It's just…" Erik started, "I don't like to pretend to be someone I'm not."
"You're not pretending to be someone you're not, Erik." Mme. Giry said, "You're just changing, that's all. Everyone goes through that. There are some habits we must change to satisfy others."
"I don't want to satisfy others." Erik said, " I just want to be what I used to be. Just…be… Erik!"
"Erik, there's something you must understand." Mme. Giry said, and she whispered in his ear, "Sometimes we must sacrifice ourselves to get what we want." At this, she glanced at Christine, who found the wall very interesting at that moment, "I know change is difficult, but we have to learn to live with it. Most of the time, change is only for good. There are some habits that have to be left off for the benefit of everyone."
"And to sacrifice one's liberty of expression is part of benefiting others?" Erik challenged. " I won't lose my freedom just for the pleasure of someone else."
Mme. Giry sighed, "Erik, you have lived too long in the shadows to actually know what the real world is about. Changes must be made! Sacrifices must be carried out! "
But that statement really got into Erik deeply.
"Lived too long in the shadows to actually know what the real world is about?" Erik said, almost screaming, "I think I'm quite aware of what the real world is about! Ever since I was a child, I've been neglected! Just for this…this… face! People just didn't care of how I felt! Why must it be I who has to change? Why can't they find compassion in their hearts and change their cruel ways to act toward me? Why can't they see past the face and see what is inside! Everyone expect me to change! I've done my best, but people don't really appreciate it! It's not my fault that they're blinded by the typical stereotype of society! It's no my fault that they made me what I am now! It's not my fault that I was born with this HIDEOUS FACE!"
And on the emphasis, we snatched away his mask to reveal the disfigured side of his face. The mask fell dully on the floor and Erik reclined on the wall for support.
"It's not my fault… It's not my fault…" Erik said quietly, dropping his head and closing his eyes. He reached out with a hand and covered his face to hide his deformity. "It was the real world, the one that sent me to the shadows…"
"I know quite well what the real world is about…" Erik whispered, "I just had he misfortune of stumbling across the bad side of it."
Mme.Giry was bedazzled and stood on the spot, unable to articulate a word. Christine, who had watched Erik's outburst with surprise and had remained quiet for the whole moment, stared compassionately at Erik. She approached him slowly and lifted his chin, so he was looking into her eyes. He had tears forming in the corners of his eyes, but they refused to fall.
She smiled tenderly at him. Somehow, she felt that nothing she said would express how she felt for him at that precise moment. She felt a mixture of compassion, sadness, understanding, sympathy, and a slight hint of pity, and she couldn't quite put those feeling into words.
She kneeled and took the mask. She straightened up and gazed again at Erik. She stared deep into his eyes and had an abrupt urge to cry, but restrained herself. He expressed such loneliness and sadness. It was unbearable. She reached out and lowered his hand from his face. She uncovered his face and, yet again, she felt no repulsion at the sight of his disfigurement.
She placed the mask back on his face hesitantly, slowly fitting it correctly on his face. All through that, Erik remained motionless, watching every move she made with curiosity.
"Thank you…" Erik said idly.
Christine smiled yet again, completely lost for words. What could she possibly say? And even through the silence, she felt that Erik knew what she was feeling. He had a knack for that. It was almost as if he could read her mind, but at the same time, he couldn't quite put together the puzzle of her thoughts. But then again, he seemed to understand her feelings perfectly, despite the ever changing swirl of thoughts that encircled her mind.
Realizing that she couldn't possibly do anything that might be of help, the only thing she did was to hug him. She locked him in a warm embrace. Erik took a few seconds to realize that Christine was hugging him, and wrapped his arms around her in response.
Suddenly, Christine felt an outburst of mixed feeling inside of her; Loneliness, sadness, anxiety, nervousness, hopelessness, unhappiness, pity, misery, pain. She was feeling what he was feeling. Had they become so close together to be able to feel each other's emotions? It seemed they did. The urge of crying intensified, but she tried hard to fight back the tears. How could he bear all this? It was… intolerable! But then, there was this façade that Erik always built around him and hid his feelings, making him seem calm and untroubled. But now, she could feel everything, absolutely everything, every single emotion, every single feeling. After all, it was only a façade, a fake cover. It only hid the overwhelming pain Erik felt inside.
She tightened her embrace on him. He wanted to hold him there, to try to ease his pain and his sadness. And somewhere deep inside, she knew that part of his pain was caused by her.
"I'm…"she whispered to Erik, "I'm sorry…"
Erik looked down at her. He surveyed her quietly and stroked her hair delicately, pulling her head closer to his chest. Christine could feel the pumping of his heart against her cheek and a wave of warmness shrouded her.
"It's not your fault," he whispered back to her, the soft whisper brushing past his lips and caressing Christine's cheek. He reclined his head on hers and held her tight against him. He didn't want to let go of her. Every time she embraced him, he felt warm and secure, but most importantly, …loved.
Mme. Giry watched them, a little bit of guilt building up in the pit of her stomach. She had been the one to know everything about Erik, the closest friend he had ever had. She had known all his secrets and ambitions. And now… she felt like a complete foreigner to him.
She shook her head and turned around. She took a silver key from her key ring, which held like 30 more different keys, ranging from golden to copper ones. They clicked as they hit each other in the circular ring. She introduced the silver key in the door's keyhole and she turned it. The look clicked open and she opened the door, which creaked in its hinges due to the lack use.
Erik and Christine snapped back to reality and broke apart. They turned to look at each other and, to Christine's surprise, Erik gave a small, warm smile to her. Christine returned the gesture with a little nervous smile.
"Come, I'll show you your working area." Mme. Giry said unemotionally, motioning them with a hand to go forward. Erik and Christine did as told and went inside. Mme. Giry followed them and closed the door behind her.
Inside, Erik and Christine surveyed the room with curiosity. It was very spacious. In the center of the room, laid a huge desk with a matching chair. There were scattered papers all around the desk, and just like all the room, the desk was also heavily covered in dust. Tons of papers were scattered about around the floor. Beyond the desk, a large window was noticeable. Just beyond the window, the streets of Paris were visible, despite the opacity of the dust-filled glass. Mauve curtains hung ghostly at either side of the window, their moth-eaten ends stained with dirt.
On the left wall stood a big, bulky, used-up couch. Beside the couch laid a little three-legged table with a broken white porcelain vase on it. The table and the desk looked like they could do with a little polishing and a bit of repairing, for one of the table's legs was half-bitten by termites.
On the right wall hung a big painting of an angel. The angel was kneeled on the floor, its hands brought together in prayer. Its white wings glistened beautifully against the light that shone above the angel from the heavens in the painting. A glowing halo was encircling its head, making its blonde hair shine like silk, and it had a pleading look in its pale blue eyes. An angel.
How fitting… Erik thought as he gazed at the painting.
The painting was also submerged under a layer of dust, but nothing a little cleaning couldn't do.
Two gas lamps hung from each wall; one on either side of the window, the door, and the painting, and the other two above the couch.
Overall, the office looked really old, messy, and dusty. It was clear that it needed a good cleaning and maintenance.
"Forgive me for the mistreated state of the room. It hasn't been used for years." Mme. Giry informed them, surveying the room carefully. "The maids just simply stopped cleaning it."
"Oh, don't worry." Christine started, "Erik and I'll clean it up." She smiled. Erik nodded in agreement.
Mme. Giry nodded back. "Well, there's no business for me here. I'll leave it to you. You're free to do whatever changes you feel necessary to this office."
"Thank you, Madame." Erik said, bowing his head in gratitude.
"You're welcome… I'll leave you to it, then." She then turned on her heels and left the room, leaving Erik and Christine alone. Christine then gave a deep sigh and approached the little table. She pressed her index finger on the surface and slid her finger over it. She withdrew her hand and brought her finger in front of her. A big, dusty stain was visible in her fingertip.
"Seems we have a lot of work to do." Christine said matter-of-factly.
"Yes. I can see that." Erik said. He looked around. "Where to start?"
"We could start by making the place less dusty." Christine said, "Then we can arrange everything else."
Erik nodded. "We should get some cleaning material to start work."
"I'll go for them, I know where they are. You wait here. I'll be back shortly." Christine said. She darted out of the room, leaving Erik completely alone in the forsaken office. With the looming silence falling on him, he decided to find something to do meanwhile.
He started to pick up the papers that lay scattered around the desk. As he took in his hands notes, schedules, essays, and pieces of junk, he stumbled across a very dirty piece of paper. He picked it up and blew the dust away. Under the dirt, a photograph was revealed. It depicted a little boy with a woman beside him.
The little boy was a scrawny looking fellow. Because the photograph was in black and white, Erik couldn't quite deduce the real colors of the boy's eyes and hair, but the only thing he could deduce, was that he had light-colored eyes. The little boy wore a pleasant smile, his eyes, though they didn't show any color, irradiated warmth and brightness. The woman beside him smiled gingerly too, one of her arms around the boy's little shoulders. Her long, dark hair glistened as it fell elegantly down her shoulders. The warm look the woman gave off from her eyes gave Erik a sudden sense of yearning nostalgia. He missed something. This picture reminded him of something that made him feel lost and a bit confused and left him with a feeling of longing.
Erik threw the rest of the garbage he was holding into a little trashcan; everything except the photograph. He held the photograph carefully and absent-mindedly he sat down on the worn-out couch. The couch gave off a little cloud of dust that subsided rapidly, but Erik took no notice of this. Suddenly, the door creaked open and Christine came in, holding some buckets, cleaning rags, feather dusters, a broom and a mop under her heavily occupied arms.
"I found this down in a cupboard, " Christine said as she placed everything down. "Maybe we should start by dusting the-" but she fell silent. She had straightened herself to look at Erik, but had found him staring vacantly at a piece of paper in his hands.
"Erik?" Christine inquired, "Everything all right?" But Erik did not answer. He made a head movement as if to look at her, but didn't. He opened his mouth, but closed it almost immediately when words failed to leave his lips.
Christine approached him, slightly worried at his hesitant attitude, and sat beside him on the couch. Another cloud of dust aroused but declined almost as quick as it had risen. She looked at him puzzled, but Erik didn't return the gawk. His eyes, Christine noticed, showed deep loss and confusion, like if suddenly Erik had lost the notion of where he was, who he was, and what was he supposed to do.
She followed the direction of his gaze and stared at the old photograph in his hands. She saw the boy and the woman, but saw no importance in them whatsoever. She looked back at Erik with curiosity, wondering what could be running through his mind at that same moment. What could possibly have detached him from reality? She placed a hand on his shoulder, but he didn't seem to respond to her shaky touch. He stared as emptily as he had done before at the image before him.
In his mind, millions of questions drifted through the wind of thoughts that blew rapidly in his brain. This woman in the picture reminded him a whole lot of somebody he once knew. But who? He didn't know whom this woman reminded him of, he just knew that it brought sad feelings back to him and that it also brought a painful headache to his head. Finally, something clicked in his mind… that woman reminded him of his own…his own….
"Erik?.. ERIK!" Christine's scream brought him painfully back to earth, snapping him off his pensiveness. He looked distractedly around, recognizing his surroundings and assimilating the situation. He turned his head to a side and saw Christine staring worriedly at him. He tilted his head a bit in confusion as he gazed into her quizzical eyes.
"Erik? Are you all right?" Christine inquired, touching his temple to sense if he had trail of an upcoming fever, for he had become a tad bit pale.
"What?" He said, rather confused at her question.
"You were so gone right now…" she said, "Like if the world around you didn't exist!"
"What-what do you mean?" he asked again.
"You didn't respond to anything I told you… Nor moved whenever I touched you." she said, lowering her hand, "Like if you were living in a oblivion state, like if you were in a kind of trance. You just stared vacantly into this picture, totally unaware of the world. You didn't respond to my queries until now."
"Oh…" he replied simply, finally understanding everything, taking in all the information. "Forgive me…" he looked back at the picture. He then crumpled the photograph into a little ball and threw it to the trashcan. He placed a hand on his temple and closed his eyes, heaving a soft sigh as he tried to ease his headache.
"What troubles you?" Christine asked, rubbing his back comfortingly.
"Nothing…" he replied, but Christine knew it wasn't true.
"I know something is occupying your mind…" she said, "I know because you always adopt that pose whenever you're thinking in something really deeply…"
Erik sighed and straightened up. "It's nothing," he said, not daring to look at her. "Honest… Don't worry…"
"Erik… who were the people in the photograph?" she asked stubbornly.
Finally, Erik gave in to her obstinacy. "No one I really knew. I assume it was Tussette when he was younger. The boy looked an awful lot like him."
"And why does that trouble you so?" she persisted.
"It was not the photo itself, or the people in it. They just… reminded me…of… someone…" Erik said reluctantly.
"Who?"
He sighed and his lip quivered a little. "My mother…" he said that with every ounce of power he possessed, for the only mention of that word made him feel totally weak and helpless. He dug his elbows into his knees and hid his face on his hands.
"Oh, Erik…" she said sympathetically, rubbing his back in an attempt to comfort him. She had never heard Erik talk about his mother before, or his father, or any family he could've had. "I'm sorry… Is she…"
"No…As far as I know, I think she's still alive." Erik said, lifting his face from his hands and staring into the ground. "But I never saw her again… since… I…" he trailed off.
"Do you want to talk about this?" she said, "You don't have to if you don't feel like it."
"No... Its just…I've never told this to anyone… Not even Mme. Giry." Erik said nervously, "I never talked about her with anyone. I didn't even think of her since… now."
"And do you want to talk about it?" she asked, trying not to push him.
"I guess it's time for me to tell someone… I have to get this off my chest. It's to much for me to bear now that I was reminded of that night."
"What night?"
"The night when I escaped the household of my mother." Erik said ashamedly, "I was 9 when I left. I was so enraged by my mother's neglect on me. But… somehow, I felt that she was beginning to be more sympathetic and caring of me, but I left nonetheless."
"I had lived in the house for 9 long years, not being able of going out in public, always locked up in that darned house. A mask was the first cloth I ever wore. For I was born with such a hideous face, that my mother couldn't bear to see me. My only company in the house was my dog, Sasha. She was the only one who could bear to be in contact with me, for my mother didn't even dare to touch me. I grew to be a prodigy. I had developed a big amount of knowledge in architecture and music especially, because of my long hours in the house's library. I made my own architectonic blueprints and composed my own music. I could play piano so professionally at such a young age, that I could've rivaled Mozart. I had developed a great ability at mastering ventriloquism. I could make any object appear to have the power of speech. Soon, I also developed the magic of the illusion with mirrors. I made my own mirror maze with little pieces of broken mirror in my room. My mother soon became scared of my prodigious intelligence, and tried to pull me down, to keep me in the line. She kept neglecting me, ignoring me, and isolating me from that dreaded world. One day, when I lost control for the first time, it was on my fifth birthday. It was the first birthday they celebrated, for my mother always forgot them on purpose. It was because a friend of her requested it, that she acceded into giving me a little celebration in commemoration of my date of birth. In that moment, she told me to ask for a present, any present. I loved my mother dearly, despite the carelessness she showed before me. She had never given a real sign of affection toward me, and that was all I asked for… A sign of affection."
"What did you ask for?" Christine asked, deeply intrigued by Erik's past.
"Two… kisses."
"Kisses?"
"Yes, two kisses… One for that moment and one to keep."
"And did she…?"
"No. She didn't give them to me… She told me never to ask for something like that ever again. I got mad at that but forgot it quickly. Then, it was when a friend of hers, a doctor that wanted to marry her, arrived, that I finally lost it. That man was one of the reasons that drove me away from my home, because I knew he thought like everyone else and wanted me dead. Also the imprisonment my mother kept me in, and the indifference the people showed toward me, were some of the other reasons. But one that hit me deeply was the death of my dog, Sasha. She was killed by an angry mob that wanted to get rid of me just because of my…condition. Sasha fought against them and got her neck broken by one of the men in the mob. She had been my only real company. That was when I was more infuriated. I just wanted to kill them, kill them all. Later on, finally not being able of tolerating it any longer, I left. I wandered through the forest, having lost my only true friend and with hopes of not being seen again, I wandered and wandered. Then, I stumbled across a gypsy caravan. I got caught and was used as one of the main attractions. "The Devil's Child" was what they called me. I was the devil's horrible son." Erik stopped here. The painful memories of the freak show tortured his being to a point of madness. This was the one thing he didn't feel like talking about… So he just stopped there. "Then Mme. Giry came and freed me. She hid me in the Opera Popullaire and I have lived here ever since."
"Oh… I see…" Christine was speechless. Erik had just revealed to her a big deal of his life. Poor Erik. He had suffered from the day he was born. How could he bear all this to his own? But she had noticed something; he hadn't mentioned anything about his father, nothing at all. "What became of your father?"
"He died long before I was born. I was named after the priest that baptized me. My mother couldn't stand to name me after my father after all. I was so repulsive."
"Oh… I'm sorry Erik… I…"
"Don't be sorry for me…" Erik said sharply, "I don't want anyone's pity."
"I don't pity you!" Christine said urgently, "It's just… How could you tolerate all this… It's… I'm speechless… Erik…" but Erik cut her off.
"Yes! Yes! I know!" he suddenly burst out angrily, getting up from the couch and throwing his arms above his head in frustration, "Poor, unhappy Erik! Come on! Say it! Pity me! I know you do!"
But Christine stood up violently up, facing him with a frown on her face, "Don't put words in my mouth, Erik! You know I don't mean that! Stop behaving like such a child! I know this hurts you! But there's no need for you to get all angry about it!"
Erik suddenly sighed, abandoning his angry expression. He looked helplessly to the floor and avoided Christine's eyes.
"Forgive me…" Erik said all of a sudden, "It's just… that's the first time I've talked about my past. I'm not used to it. I feel so insecure whenever I remember what went before. Forgive me, Christine. You're right, I'm behaving so immaturely."
Christine's eyes then softened in sympathy, and all the anger she had felt a moment ago, diminished. She approached him and locked him in a warm hug. Erik stood shocked for a moment but returned the gesture with shaky hands. He hid his face in her shoulder and gave a weak sob.
"I miss her." Erik whispered softly in her ear. "My mother… I miss her…"
"Oh, Erik…" Christine said, rubbing his back.
"Regardless of what she did to me, she was my mother… and nothing can change that. I love her nonetheless."
"Even though I didn't get to know her well, I loved my mother too." Christine said, "She died when I was very young. But even though she's not here anymore, I love her still. Same thing with my father."
"Erik… what would've happened if my parents lived and yours loved you?" Christine asked out of the blue, resting her head on his chest.
Erik pondered for a second, and then answered simply, "I wouldn't have met you…."
Christine's eyes widened in realization. He was right. Had her parents been alive and had Erik's mother loved him, they would've never met.
"Yes… you're right." Christine said, "I'm so glad I had the opportunity to know you…"
Erik smiled, touched, "I can say the same thing about you… I don't know what would've been of me if I hadn't heard you that fateful night, 3 years ago."
Christine smiled lightly and straightened up to look at him. "Yes. That night, I felt no fear when I first saw you, I just felt more drawn to you than before. You know, you were truly an Angel. In some sort of way, you were really guarding me and guiding me. And I thank you for that."
He stroked her hair gently, "And I thank you for giving me a reason to go on…" and gave her a smile. She smiled shyly back at him. Then, her smile vanished and she sneezed strongly all of a sudden.
"Bless you." Erik said, rummaging in his pockets and handing her a handkerchief.
"Thank you…" she said, taking the handkerchief and blowing her nose, "Damned dust." She said, coughing a little.
"We should really get ourselves to cleaning this place, you know?" Erik said matter-of-factly.
"I agree." she said. She approached the cleaning materials and took out a very battered feather duster, "I'll dust."
"I'll mop then…" Erik took a mop and a bucket of water. He dipped the mop in the bucket and started cleaning the floor. Christine too started her work and started dusting the Angel picture that stood on the wall.
Erik meanwhile cleaned the floor by moving the mop back and forth in a circular pattern, the wooden floorboard's real color finally being revealed. Erik felt a bit weird, since he wasn't accustomed to cleaning like this, his lair didn't need much maintenance after all.
After quite some time, both of them finished their respective jobs. The floor was shining clean now, the floorboards glistening brightly as if showing off their condition, and the dust had been cleared off completely from all the room, making it look less old. The only things to work on now were on the window, the wall, the table, and the desk. Also it looked like they could do with a new couch and new curtains, not to mention that the wall needed some serious painting. The desk and table were no problem, though, a little polishing would do.
"I can get the curtains," Erik said, "I have some I don't use, back in my lair."
"I can get the paint then," Christine said, "I'll ask Mme. Giry where I can get some."
As they both nodded, they went to retrieve the paint and the curtains. Christine found Mme. Giry and she told her she could find paint in the stable. Christine went to the stables and took some paint cans and brushes she found there and headed back to the office. Erik, meanwhile, went down to his lair through the mirror. He reached his lair and rummaged in a chest that lied beside the table with his drawings. He found several rejected costumes and pieces of cloth. He rummaged further and found what he was looking for. He found some red satin curtains with golden embroideries in immaculate state. He took the curtains in his arms and headed back up again.
They both returned to the office almost at the same time, carrying their burdens. Christine lowered the cans and opened each one of them. They were three cans. One was full of a dark-blue paint, the other one was a lime green one, and the third one was a soft cream color.
"What color should we use?" Christine asked Erik.
"Um… I don't know… which one do you think best fits the curtains?" Erik said, holding to curtain out for her to see. Christine inspected the curtains with close examination, occasionally looking back at the paints and back at the curtains.
"Mmm… I think I like the cream one, " she said finally, "Looks nice with red."
"I agree." He said. "I think I'll paint. Maybe you could work on the window. You know, clean it before we hang the curtains?"
"Sure, why not." She said, smiling at him. She refilled the bucket with clean water and proceeded with submerging a piece of cloth in it. She then took it out, rinsed it well, and started cleaning the windowpane, rubbing hard against the resistant dirt.
Erik too started his work. He took off his coat and vest, leaving only his white shirt on. He didn't want to stain his garments with paint; it would take a lot of handiwork to get the smudge off. He then took the cream paint can and dipped one of the brushes in it. He shook off the excess and started painting. Up and down he went, with soft, well-calculated strokes in an even pattern. He made sure to make it smoothly, getting rid of the bubbles that formed occasionally on the paint's surface.
Christine meanwhile, held a battle with the defiant dirt that refused to disappear. She rubbed hard against the glass, rubbing off the grime and filth that gathered from the long periods of neglect through the years. The good thing is that she was almost done. Just some more cleaning to do and the glass would be sparkling clean.
After some minutes, Erik had already covered the whole room, only a tiny place missing just beside the couch. He covered the space with a last stroke and threw the paintbrush to the can. He heaved a great sigh and sat on the floor to rest.
"Done." He said, closing his eyes and resting his arms over his legs.
Christine turned to look at him. He brushed some sweat off his forehead, and fanned his face with his hand. She smiled but then, her smile turned into an evil grin.
"Are you hot, Erik?" she asked mischievously.
"A bit." He said, not looking at her while still fanning himself. He had his back to her. Christine smirked wider and picked up the bucket of water slowly and silently.
"Oh, poor Erik." She said, while advancing at him leisurely, holding the bucket of water high. "Maybe a little refreshment will do you good?"
"Huh?" Erik made to turn around, but was caught by surprise when Christine tipped the bucket over him, dunking him with cold water all over.
"ARGHH!" Erik jumped to his feet, soaking wet, his clothes dripping and his hair falling over his forehead. Christine burst out laughing loudly. She clapped her hands to her mouth in an attempt to stifle the laughs, but to no avail.
"Why do you always have to wet me?" Erik said, outraged, shaking off the water from his sleeve and combing his hair back angrily.
"Because you're utterly funny when I do so!" Christine said, giving some giggles.
"Oh, you find this funny?" Erik said menacingly.
"Yes." She said, stifling some laughs.
"So, I'm your laughingstock?" he added, mocking a face of being offended.
"Kind of." She said, smiling mischievously, "You do have a knack of making me laugh!"
"Oh, I see," He said, adopting and evil grin, "Then I'll give you something to really LAUGH FOR!"
He then lunged at her, but Christine saw that coming and dodged him.
"Oh no!" Christine said, "I know what you're thinking! You did that to me down on the lake and I won't let you do it again!"
"You're so perceptive," he said, grinning, "Come here!"
He lunged at her again, but she again evaded him.
"No!" she said, giggling, running away from him. But Erik was too fast for her, and, with a swift movement, he pinned her down on the couch.
"Got you." he whispered in her ear.
"No! Don't you dare!" she threatened, still giggling.
"What if I dare?" he asked.
"You'll regret-" But she got cut off as she was invaded by a fit of laughter. Erik was tickling her sides non-stop, Christine struggling and twisting under him.
"Stop!" she said between laughs. "Stop it!" But he didn't stop. He tickled her harder, sending her into another fit of laughter.
"Boy, if you're ticklish…" he whispered to her, chuckling in her ear. He gave it a rest, letting her regain her breath, supporting himself above her with his arms at either side of her head in the cushion.
"You're an scoundrel," she said, smiling. She rubbed his wet chest, tracing the muscles beneath his shirt.
"Yes… I'm evil." He said, kissing her cheek delicately. She only smiled, letting him kiss her. He kissed her softly and tenderly, tracing kisses down her jawbone and down her neck. He kissed her throat lovingly, sending waves of warmth down Christine's body. He continued tracing little kisses up her neck and beneath her ear. Christine heaved a soft moan and closed her eyes.
"No…" she moaned, "Wait…"
Erik stopped at her command, staring curiously at her.
"Not…here," she told him, "someone may come."
Erik nodded and gave her another little kiss on her cheek, "I love you." he whispered in her ear.
"Me too," She whispered back, caressing his face, "Me too…"
Erik straightened up and Christine sat up, resting her head on his shoulder and sighing. They both surveyed the room in silent examination. The walls were painted, the window was clean, the floor was mopped, the room dusted… Only thing left were the polishing of the desk and table and to change the curtains.
"What should we do now?" Christine asked him. They waited. Suddenly, a little metal coil sprang through the couch's surface beside Christine, a bit of cotton escaping the rupture.
"Buy a new couch." Erik said simply.
"Yes, that would be a great idea, "she said, sighing and playing with the little coil with her finger. Erik stood up and Christine did too.
"We should first take this one outside and then we'll figure out where to get a new couch." Erik said. "Think you can help me carry it?"
"Sure." Christine said. At this, Erik nodded and went to one edge of the couch; Christine did the same and went to the other edge. He placed his hands under the couch and Christine followed him.
"All right…" he said, "At the count of 3, we lift it and walk through the door. All right?" Christine nodded.
"Okay. 1…2…. 3!" Erik said. And with one straining grunt, both lifted the couch off the ground. It was not that heavy, but it still weighted a bit. They made it through the door and starting walking down the hallway. They reached the border of the staircase, stopped, and lowered the couch carefully.
"This is going to be difficult." Erik panted, resting on the edge of the couch in front of the stairs. "How are we going to get this down the stairs without breaking a limb?"
"I don't know…" Christine panted. She sat on the opposite edge of the couch, but since they were in the border of the stairs, Christine's pressure on the couch pushed it forward off the border easily. With a deafening gasp, Erik fell back on the cushions as the couch slid down the stairs rapidly. Christine managed to jump up in time before the couch dragged her with it down the staircase. The noise reverberated strongly across the room as the couch made its way to the landing, crashing on each step as it advanced, Erik wide eyed at this undesired and troublesome journey. Finally, the couch reached the landing with a loud thud and the silence invaded the room
"Uh…. Erik? Are you all right?" Christine asked him loudly from above the stairs.
Down in the landing, on the couch, Erik straightened up, supporting himself with his arms. He wore a very shaken, yet angry, look on his face, his hair ruffled all over.
"DAMN YOU, WOMAN!" Erik yelled at her, "YOU WANT TO KILL ME, DON'T YOU!"
But at this point, Christine was laughing at his apparently funny reaction. Erik rolled his eyes and fell back on the couch, groaning and closing his eyes. Christine ran down the stairs to him and leaned over the back of the couch, looking down at him.
"Had a nice trip?" she asked playfully, smiling at him tenderly.
"I'm still angry with you..." he informed her, almost with a teasing tone in his voice.
"Oh, how sad." She said, mocking a face of regret. She then leaned over and gave him a small and soft kiss on the lips, which he returned, despite the fact that "he was still angry with her." He opened his eyes and they smiled to each other.
"What was all that racket?" came Mme. Giry's voice.
Erik and Christine straightened up as she came trotting to the Entrance Hall where the couch was. Erik sprang up, trying to look as if nothing had happened. Mme. Giry bumped into them with a very outraged look on her face.
"What was all that noise about?" she asked them urgently.
Erik and Christine looked at each other in search of a good excuse.
"Um… Erik…Erik just found a very creative way of transporting the couch from up the stairs to the landing, Madame," Christine said, smiling, "That's all."
Erik turned his head at her in alarm. He gaped at her incredulously and accusingly. First of all, it was HER who pushed the couch off the stairs! It was her idea! Secondly, he had been the victim of it all! And now she blamed him for all the commotion he had clearly not caused. Christine had to repress a laugh with her hand at the sight of Erik's astonished face.
Mme.Giry shook her head reprovingly at Erik, who rolled his eyes and crossed his arms like if he were a little boy being reprimanded by his mother.
"Next time, don't do such a noise! It seemed like we were under attack!" she said, "I'll send for some people to help you carry this thing to the stable. Then you can go and buy a new one. The Opera will cover the costs."
Both nodded at this.
"I'll go call someone." Mme. Giry said, scurrying away through a door, leaving Erik and Christine alone.
"Thank you for covering me, Christine," Erik said sarcastically.
"No problem," she said sardonically while smiling at him. Erik just rolled his eyes and turned his head away, heaving a sigh.
"Women…." He muttered.
"Oh, men are such crybabies…" she retorted back.
"Well," Erik said, "We should at least move the couch closer to the door to save time."
Christine nodded to him and both resumed their places on each side of the couch. They lifted it again and moved toward the door that led to the stables. Boy, this couch had suddenly turned heavy. Christine closed her eyes shut tightly due to the incredible force she was exerting on lifting the heavy object. Suddenly, the couch didn't weight so much anymore. Christine opened her eyes and she found two blonde-haired boys, middle aged they seemed, standing on the back of the couch, helping Erik and Christine carry it. On the opposite side, another boy, slightly older than the others with brown hair, held the couch too.
"Madame Giry told us you might need some help…" The older-looking boy said, smiling, "I've brought some of my friends with me so they could help too."
"Thank you!" Christine said.
"Now, mademoiselle, we'll take care form here." One of the younger boys said. He gently took Christine's place. Now the four of them, Erik and the boys, took the couch from each of its sides and took it to the stables, Christine following them closely in case they needed any help, though they seemed to be doing okay.
Once they arrived there, they were instantly invaded by the smell of hay and soil. The horses neighed eagerly at their arrival; Numerous horses were guarded by the stable boys in their enclosures, their pelts ranging from white, brown, black, cream, and so on. The foursome dropped the couch in one corner of the room, sighing from the weight being relieved from them.
"Thank you for the help," Erik told the older-one. He stretched his hand and the boy shook it gladly, smiling.
"No problem!" he said, "I'm Kyrian, by the way."
The boy named Kyrian was tall, handsome and strong looking. Even though he was older than the other two boys, he didn't look older than 25. He had brown hair that in length reached the base of his neck on the backside. His fringe was divided in two and its locks fell nicely over both his eyebrows, leaving his forehead practically clear. He had bright turquoise eyes and he had a well-built body, not very muscular, but more of a normal build.
"Nice to meet you, Kyrian," Erik said, bowing his head slightly. "I'm-"
"Erik, I know," he said, smiling, " And she's Christine Daaé. You two are quite famous in here."
He shook Christine's hand gently and placed a little courtesy kiss on her hand.
"It's a pleasure meeting you." Kyrian said, giving a pleasant smile.
"Likewise." Christine said, smiling.
"And who are your friends?" Erik asked him as he glanced at the two younger boys in the far end of the room, who were feeding some horses with hay.
"Oh, them…" Kyrian said, looking back at them, "Hey! Guys! Come over here!" he called them.
The two boys left what they were doing and approached Kyrian.
"Hey, Kyr!" said one of the blonde boys.
"Hey, Colin!" Kyrian replied.
Colin was a tall boy of his normal age; just a tad bit smaller that Kyrian in height. He looked no older than 20 and had a happy, boyish grin on his face, his blue eyes flashing brightly. He had his dirty blonde hair at the same length that Kyrian's, at the base of his neck and had great part of his fringe combed to a side, and the other half tucked neatly behind his ear. He shook hands with Erik and Christine politely.
"My name is Colin, nice to meet you, monsieur Erik and mademoiselle Christine." He said, "This beside me, is my twin brother Briand. Well, we're not very physically alike, but we were born on the same day."
"Hi." said Briand.
He was almost the same as his brother, only that his dirty-blonde hair was a bit longer and fell one inch over his shoulders. His blue eyes shone happily as he shook hands with Christine and Erik. Briand looked so familiar to Christine, despite the fact that she had never seen this boy before. Then, something clicked in her mind. His hairstyle. It looked almost like…it kind of held a resemblance to Raoul's, but not too much. The only thought of him made a shiver run down her spine, and she decided to shake his memory off. She smiled back to Briand, pretending nothing had happened.
"It's a pleasure meeting you…" Briand said, "We've heard a lot of you two. You're not a bit of what the stagehands once told us about you, Phantom of the Opera."
Erik stiffened a little at the mention of his pseudonym, but held his composure, showing no emotion in his face.
"Oh, and what exactly did they used to tell you about me?" Erik asked unemotionally.
"It's nothing-" Kyrian said immediately but couldn't finish. Somehow, he could feel that this was not a good idea. They had touched a very delicate topic.
"They said you had this pale skin and a hole where your nose ought to be." Colin said, rather nervously. "Something like that… really nasty stuff."
"Whatever you heard about him are just silly rumors," Christine said defensively, " They're nothing but filthy lies."
"We know…" Briand said, "We know that now that we've met you in person. And monsieur Erik is not a raving psychotic lunatic like they used to say he was. I wonder what gave them those silly ideas about him; you look like a very decent man, monsieur Erik." Briand added.
"But…" Colin started, "Not everything is a rumor, is it?"
"Colin…" Kyrian started menacingly, but his voice tone made no effect on Colin whatsoever.
"What do you mean?" Erik asked curiously.
"You did crash the chandelier, didn't you?" Colin asked, a tiny hint of fear clear in his voice. "And… you killed those people?"
Erik froze. His face turned a bit pale at the mention of the disaster he had caused. All the memories had drifted back to him in a typhoon of reminiscence, flooding his soul with painful memoirs. He looked away, and Christine could see a bit of perspiration forming in his brow.
"Colin…" she started, placing her hand on his shoulder gently, "I can't deny you what is the awful truth, neither can Erik; there's no use in even trying to hide it from you, but you must understand, that what happened was a long time ago, and things now have changed. Erik is no longer a person to be feared, for he will never hurt you. You can trust in him fully now."
Briand and Colin sighed in relief after containing their breaths in the shocking moment and gave off a smile. Kyrian smiled as well when he was reassured that there was nothing to be fearful about. He was afraid some of the rumors could be true and Erik would rampage on them for their defying statements.
"Besides, would you think I'd be with him if he were some psychotic lunatic?" Christine added playfully, nagging him with her elbow. "I'm not crazy you know…"
Colin, Briand and Kyrian couldn't help expressing a grin at the joke. Erik too couldn't help but smile as well.
"If he REALLY was a Lunatic, he would've kill you all by now…" she said, "Just joking…" she added as she noticed a trace of fear invade the younglings' eyes.
She chuckled a bit, "I assure you, and you'll have nothing to fear. You can have your trust in Erik, and he will never harm you. He never harms his friends. He would rather kill himself."
"You're nothing like the rumors, Phantom…" Kyrian said, "And I'm glad for that." He smiled at him.
Erik smiled, relief flooding his blue-green eyes.
"I'm glad you think like that, Kyrian…" Erik told him, "It's difficult to convince people I've changed."
"I understand," Kyrian said, "People can be so blind sometimes…You can't really blame them, tough. They're just scared and insecure. They fear the unknown. And with all due respect monsieur, I must admit you're a living mystery, it's hard to know what you're thinking when we know almost nothing but distorted facts about you, especially since you always keep a very set façade around you. But somehow, I can feel that you're not the person that people say you are. I know it sounds stupid, but I know you're nothing like the rumors the crew used to spread. "
"I like your thinking," Erik said, "You certainly know what you're talking about and you're very perceptive. Very few people are like you, which make it difficult for me to have a true friendship."
"Well, you've gotten yourself new friends…" Kyrian told him smiling, "Didn't he, guys?" he added to the little brothers.
"Totally!" Briand said happily.
"You can count on me!" Colin said.
Erik couldn't help but smile. Christine just hugged the three of them in one big hug, "You're such sweethearts!" she told them, "I'm glad you've seen through the lies and the rumors, and have seen through Erik's true being, I'm truthfully glad. You act more maturely than most adults in this opera."
"Yeah," Colin said, "But you must take into account that most of the crew is highly superstitious."
"No kidding…" Briand agreed, " I mean, who would believe in ghosts?"
"BOO!" someone screamed all of a sudden behind Briand. Briand gave a startled jump as he turned his head around to see the origin of this joke.
"That was not funny, Jean!" He told the girl that now stood laughing at him.
Jean had auburn hair and pretty emerald eyes. She had rosy cheeks and beautiful pink lips. She had her hair tied up in a half ponytail. She looked exactly like Briand and Colin's age.
"I thought you didn't believe in ghosts. You're a scaredy-cat, Briand…" Jean told him, smiling at him. Briand glared at her, his cheeks flushing slightly.
"I was not scared…" Briand retorted looking away.
"You sure?" Colin said playfully, "You should've seen your face! You were totally spooked out!"
"You're so supportive, thank you brother," Briand said sarcastically.
"Jean!" another voice came. This time, 2 girls entered the stables, calling after the Auburn-haired girl.
"Hey Renna, hi Yvonne!" Jean called back to the upcoming girls.
"Scaring Briand out of his wits again?" The girl called Yvonne asked, smirking.
Yvonne looked like the twins and Jean's age. Just teenagers. She had long, silver blonde hair that reached her waist. She had pale hazel eyes and light skin and slim body.
"Come on, girls," the other girl, named Renna, said, "you know that's not very lady-like!"
Renna had beautiful blonde hair that matched perfectly with her golden eyes. She was taller than the other girls, and she looked like the equivalent of Kyrian in age, only in female. She had well toned muscles and a tan in her light skin. She had light freckles adorning her cheek and she had a motherly feeling to her.
The three girls were all wearing tutu's, meaning that they were probably in their break from the ballet lessons.
"Come on, Renna!" Yvonne said, grinning, "You know it's funny how Jean is always scaring Briand. It never gets old, and the faces he adopts are priceless!"
Briand glared at the two giggling girls. Colin and Kyrian were just watching in silent amusement and Erik and Christine were kind of clueless with the sudden outbursts.
"It's still pretty immature," Renna said, "And you're not little children anymore."
"Okay okay…I won't do it again." Jean said, sighing.
Suddenly, Renna caught sight of Erik and Christine.
"Oh, I'm sorry!" she said, "Sorry for all the racket!"
"No problem." Christine told her reassuringly.
"My name is Rhyanna, but you can call me Renna." She said, shaking Christine and Erik's hand.
"You must be Christine, the ballet assistant?" Renna asked.
"Yes," Christine said.
"Pleasure!" she smiled, and then she turned at Erik, "And you must be…. Erik. You are…." She doubted a second, "You are…. The Phantom, are you not?"
Erik nodded silently. The interesting thing about Renna is that she didn't have fear in her eyes, not even a tiny bit of apprehension, just a tiny sparkle of curiosity and wonder adorned her golden eyes.
"Yes he is, but we're not talking about it, okay?" Kyrian told her, resting his elbow on her shoulder and faking a smile. "Ixnay on the antom-phay…" he whispered in her ear. Renna grimaced like if thinking he was acting stupid.
(1)"I'm afraid I can understand piglatin, or whatever you call it." Erik said, "But you'll find that I don't mind you talking about the Phantom issue anymore."
"Thank you monsieur Erik," Renna said, smiling at him and shoving Kyrian off her shoulder, "I was not going to say anything wrong! I was just going to say that I find you really fascinating, monsieur! Unlike some of my friends here…" she said, glancing at Kyrian.
"So you're the Voice Teacher?" Yvonne asked Erik.
"Yes." Erik answered.
"Well, good luck… You'll need it. That damned post is cursed." Jean said simply.
"JEAN!" Yvonne, Renna and Kyrian shouted together.
"What?" Jean shrugged, trying to look innocent.
But unlike her friends' reactions, Christine and Erik found Jean's comment rather amusing.
Suddenly, they felt a scraping sound and everyone turned to the corner of the stable from which the noise came from. They found one of the horses, a light cream-colored mare, chewing on the old couch's cushion happily over its wooden fence.
It had its neck outstretched over the restrictive fence, chewing and gnawing at the fabric that enveloped the couch's surface, making the cotton sprang out. Its white mane and tail contrasted beautifully against its pale cream-colored pelt. It had a diamond-shaped white mark on its forehead, and its hairy hoofs were also white; running from the knee to the ankle, it was pure white. Its silver hooves pawed the ground impatiently while it turned its head to the on looking group.
"Cloud! Leave that alone!" Renna shouted at the horse. Cloud, the mare, neighed animatedly, as if daring Renna to say that again. Renna approached her and took the piece of fabric of her mouth, "You're a naughty girl!" Cloud neighed a bit and licked Renna's face.
"I guess your horse is not the only one this intelligent is it?" Christine told Erik, smiling, "Cloud seems to understand human language as well."
"You must take into account that I took Caesar right from this same stable. The horses in the opera seem to be more intelligent than average horses." Erik said.
"And why is that?" Christine asked.
"I don't know…" Erik admitted, "Being tied up in a place full of culture, you're bound to learn something."
Christine chuckled at his "clever" deduction and Erik shrugged.
"I'm sorry," Renna said, "I think Cloud has…. massacred your couch… or what was left of it, anyways."
"Don't worry, Renna," Erik reassured her, "We're going to buy a new one today. We discarded that one just moments ago."
"Oh… So…I guess there's no problem with her slaughtering it?" Yvonne asked.
"I suppose not." Christine said.
Cloud neighed happily and continued gnawing on the fabric. She definitely could understand humans.
"We must go buy the new one then, if you don't mind us coming with you, Monsieur?" Kyrian asked Erik, "You might need some help."
"If you don't mind coming, then you're totally welcome, my young friend." Erik reassured him with a smile. " There's nothing better than a helping hand."
"Couldn't agree more." Kyrian muttered, "Colin! Briand! Go prepare the cart."
"Yes, sir!" Colin and Briand muttered together, raising their hands to their foreheads in salutation.
"But what horse should we use?" Briand asked.
Cloud then started neighing happily, rearing on her back feet slightly, as if saying 'Me! Me!'
"Okay, we're taking Cloud." Colin said, grinning.
After some minutes, Colin and Briand had the cart ready with everything and even the horse.
"Everything ready, chief!" Colin announced.
"Then, everyone on board!" Kyrian said.
"Oh, we can't go…" Jean said sadly, "We got Ballet practice in some minutes."
"Oh…pity." Kyrian said, "See you later then, girls. See you later Renna."
"Until then…" Renna said, waving goodbye to Kyrian. "Come one girls, we have to go!" she added, addressing Jean and Yvonne.
And off they went, scurrying inside for their ballet lessons. Colin finished tying Cloud properly and Erik helped Christine up the seat of the cart. They all mounted on the cart and Kyrian took the reins.
Kyrian urged Cloud, and she began trotting out the stable, taking them into the city. She trotted happily across the streets, throwing her mane about. They were silent for the whole journey, until Erik spoke to Kyrian.
"Do you feel something for mademoiselle Renna?" Erik asked him after noticing his vacant stare.
"What?" Kyrian inquired, taken aback.
"I see it in the way you look at her," Erik told him, "You feel something towards her, don't you?"
Kyrian's cheeks flushed a bit. Briand sniggered.
"Well, he certainly has to feel something for her if he had the bravery to ask her to be his girlfriend," Briand said.
"Thank you, Briand," Kyrian said, his cheeks flushing a bit more.
"She accepted, I presume?" Erik asked.
"Of course she did!" Colin added, "She felt the same way towards him."
"Anyways, we arrived to the shop, can we go see the furniture now?" Kyrian asked, changing the subject drastically as he got off from the cart.
"Touchy, isn't he?" Briand said, scoffing at Kyrian's figure entering the shop. The city was very crowded today. People strolled about, minding their own business, never risking a second glance to the group, no even Erik's white mask, which was quite noticeable among the tumult.
"Christine, you better wait for us here," Erik said, "We won't take long."
"All right." Christine said.
Erik gave her a small smile before disappearing into the shop with Colin and Briand.
She decided to climb off and stroke Cloud or something. She approached the young mare and stroked her mane. It was heavenly soft, her white hair caressing Christine's fingers as she stroked her. Cloud turned her head to her and gnawed on her curls. Christine giggled, stroking her nose. Suddenly, as she looked away, her smile disappeared from her and she was drained from all the color as she stared wide-eyed down the street.
Raoul….
It was Raoul… But he was not alone. He had two men accompanying him. He was chatting heatedly with the one on his right, while the left one inspected his surroundings like if looking for something. Both thugs looked highly menacing, and their white clothes didn't help at all. She had seen those types of clothes before. The only people who wore those kinds of garments were the workers of the city's Asylum. And the worst part is that they were walking towards her direction.
What was Raoul doing with that people? Whatever it was, Christine didn't want to find out right now. Without Raoul seeing her, she entered the shop in haste, searching for Erik. She had to tell him, Raoul mustn't see him! The door's bell tinkled as she made her way inside.
"Erik!" she called. The shop was huge and was practically empty, but she still could find Erik or the boys. She ran through the varied furniture: chest drawers, beds, tables, chairs, etc…
Suddenly, she heard the bell tinkle again. She looked back and saw Raoul entering. The two thugs entered behind him, their threatening appearances no less menacing under the shop's dim light.
Christine made her way through the furniture, trying to reach the stairs to the second floor to see if she could find Erik there. Raoul followed deadly close, but couldn't see her. She was as silent as she could as she finally reached the winding stairs. She climbed them hastily and as silently as she could, panting at the stress. And what made matters worse, was the fact that Raoul had the same idea that her and began climbing the stairs after her, though he still couldn't see her, for she was farther up the steps than him. Then, she tripped and fell. She remained silent, though she had a strong pain on her leg. Raoul was about to reach her, when he stopped and turned around. Her heart stopped dead in her chest, like if her pulsing heart could be heard outside and could give her away. She held her breath as she looked at Raoul. He muttered something to the thugs. They nodded and stayed in the lower level. Christine took advantage of this distraction and stood up, quickly climbing what remained of the stairs.
"Erik…" she whispered, desperately looking for him. She looked through the bookshelves, tables, and couches… Erik must be here. And so she was right, she heard voices at the far end of the room. She hurried her pace and when she turned on a relatively large bookshelf, she found the foursome staring at one couch. It was a dark red-colored one, with comfortable looking cushions. It was so big; it could fit 4 people sitting in it.
They chatted excitedly between each other, without paying attention to her, until her panting breath gave her away. Everyone turned to look at her curiously.
"Christine," Erik started, "What are you doin-" but he was cut off as Christine lunged at him and covered his mouth with her hand. With her free hand, she placed her index finger atop her lips. Erik's eyes stared at her quizzically, but her fear-filled eyes gave away her strange behavior. After that, some steps were heard beyond the bookshelf that covered them.
"Raoul." She mouthed to him. Erik's eyes widened in apprehension at the word. He took her by the arms and dragged her away.
"Take the couch down!" Erik mouthed to the boys, and then placed a finger on his lips. The boys understood, and made to carry the couch. Then, Raoul appeared from the corner of the bookshelf.
Erik snatched her out of Raoul's sight and dragged her behind another piece of furniture, just in time to avoid disaster. Raoul was about to walk into them when Kyrian saluted Raoul to help them out.
"Good Afternoon, monsieur le Vicomte!" Kyrian said happily, making Raoul turn his back on them.
"Good morning," Raoul responded unemotionally, his back still at them, "Boy. Have you seen a beautiful brunette roaming the streets lately? Her name is Christine Daaé."
Christine froze and Erik covered her mouth as a whimper escaped her lips. Erik peeked his head over the furniture. Raoul had his back on him and Kyrian was just in front of him.
"NO!" Erik mouthed to Kyrian.
"Er…er… no, sir, I haven't…" Kyrian said, rapidly dragging his sight back to Raoul after staring at Erik some seconds before.
"Well, if you see her, inform me immediately." Raoul told him sternly.
"Yes sir," Kyrian said.
Erik took advantage of Raoul's distraction and dragged Christine behind another furniture towards the stairs. They crouched behind the objects, trying hard to remain as silent as possible as they made their way to the stairs.
Raoul had not come here to buy something, but to search for her. Those thugs were for that too. Why wouldn't he give up?
They finally made it to the stairs and ran down them as fast as they could, Kyrian behind them while Raoul searched in the far end of the room, giving them time.
Down on the landing, they encountered the thugs looking at some objects hanging from the walls; Mirrors. They also encountered Briand and Colin paying to an old, white haired man for the couch and lifting it to take it outside.
Erik and Christine crouched rapidly behind the couch just in time to avoid the thugs seeing them.
"Move along with the couch and we'll take you out of here…" Briand whispered to Erik. Erik nodded as he crouched beside Christine. Briand, Colin, and Kyrian lifted the couch and began carrying out of the shop, Erik and Christine following their pace silently. The thugs turned around and stared at them. Erik crouched as lower as he could as the boys continued their way. They smiled innocently at the menacing thugs.
"Good morning, gentleman!" Colin said pleasantly, "Nothing but a couch here! That's right!"
And everyone wanted to kick Colin right there. He was practically giving them away.
The thugs muttered something under their breaths and turned back again. Erik heard Briand sigh with relief.
They quickly got out of the shop, pushed the couch over the cart and got on. Kyrian hurriedly urged Cloud to start trotting. She trotted away, the shop getting farther and farther as they made their way back to the Opera House.
They arrived, and Erik and Christine sighed, reclining on the seat.
"Mademoiselle…" Colin addressed Christine, "Is the Vicomte the reason why we shouldn't reveal your whereabouts?"
Christine hesitated, and then nodded, closing her eyes. She shuddered a bit and Erik hugged her to him.
"Did he hurt you, mademoiselle?" Briand asked.
"Briand, please," Kyrian started, "she doesn't want to talk about it. She'll tell us is she feels like it, but right now it's not a good time."
Erik thanked Kyrian in his mind for shutting down the questions.
"Right now we should get the couch to the teachers' office," Kyrian said.
And everyone helped carry the brand new couch to Erik and Christine's office. They positioned it where the old one once was and sighed with relief.
"Thank you for your help, boys," Christine said. She had regained back her composure after the shock with Raoul's arrival to the shop. "You've been of great help today."
"It was our pleasure, mademoiselle," Kyrian said, bowing his head. The twins did the same and bid their goodbyes. After the boys left, Erik slumped on the couch tiredly, groaning and stretching his arms over the couch's back.
Christine sat down beside him and rested her head on his chest.
"What a day…" Christine muttered.
"Tell me about it…" Erik said, without opening his eyes, "I'm so exhausted."
Christine sighed. And surveyed the room.
"We still have to change the curtains…." She said tiredly, looking up at him, "and polish the table…."
"I'll do it…in a second…." Erik trailed off as he gave a large yawn. "I'll just…rest my eyes a bit…"
"I'll do the same…" Christine said, as she closed her eyes and nuzzled under his neck. "Just for a few moments…"
Mme. Giry walked towards the office with a tray on her hands. She had some food for Erik and Christine. She brought a big plate of some delicious-smelling meat and vegetables soup she had made herself, and some wine for them. She reached the office and knocked on the door, holding the tray with one hand. However, no response came.
"They must be really busy," she opened the door and came inside.
She gaped at the sight of the room, "Incredible! You really gave a real make up to this old office! It's beautiful, Erik and Christine! Great job!"
Without looking at them, she made her way to the desk and lowered the tray on it.
"Since you've worked so hard today, I've made you some dinner," Mme. Giry said, "You really deserve it!"
She turned around to look at them and she stared. Her face turned into a tender and loving expression at the sight before her.
Erik and Christine sat on the couch, Christine resting her head on his shoulder, while he rested his head on hers. Both of them were fast asleep, a little smile playing across their lips. Christine was nestled beside him, while Erik had his arm around her waist unconsciously in a protective way.
"They certainly belong with each other…" Mme. Giry muttered, smiling broadly.
OMG! FINALLY DONEEEEE! Sorry for taking too long! Writer's Block sucks!
Anyway, this chapter is a little boring, yet, like always, it was necessary! Now, on with one of my favorite chapters! Chapter 8! Yay! I wish to thank Wisedragonqueen5 for letting me use the names of "Kyrian" and "Rhyenna".
Also, I would like to thank everybody for the encouraging reviews! They really make my heart leap with joy! And I can assure you this story will get better! (I hope ;)
By the way, since I didn't write in some time, I kind of lost my touch with the descriptions… I'm sorry guys, but this Writer's Block is really affecting me badly. I also felt my English got worse TT,TT… I'm such a loser…
(1) I know piglatin probably didn't exist at that time, but I find it quite funny and wanted to add it a bit; hope it doesn't break the credibility of the story too much.
Erik- STUPID FOP! HOW DARE HE SHOW HIS FOPPY FACE AGAIN! ;; -high on Snickers-
Feri- Oo…. Erik, have you slept at all?
Erik- He heh…No… BUT I'M AS GOOD AS NEW! And let's not mention my mind is clearer than ever! I no needy sleepy! No! no! No! Sleepy evil! If I sleep the Snicker monster will eat me/ He goes like 'ROOOOOOOOOOAR I'm gonna eat you!'… ;;
Feri- -backs away slowly- I think we'll have to send you to "Hyperactive-Chocolate-Eaters-Anonymous" or HCEA Oo… They could help you out and they could take the sugar off your blood…
Erik- NUUUUUUU! MY BLOOD! MY BLOOD! MY SUGAR! DIE FOP! -punjabs Random Raoul Plushie-
Feri- Erm… okee… Erik's lost it…he finally lost it… oo;;…. But we love him still, don't we?
-cricket chirps-
Feri- ….
Erik- -eye twitches freakishly-
Feri- oo;
R&R please!