American Girl In Paris Part Une
A/N: yeah it's a Gerik kinda Erik and for anyone who wants to see Olivia's dress again go to www. verawang. com/ dresses/ cocktail and her dress is number 17! I had a lot of fun picking it out…and finding out all that stuff about the Met Ball…its all true by the way; the decorations and what they eat are all what they actually had at the real life Met Ball!
I found myself in a bed that I had never seen before in a room I did not recognize. It was finely furnished but dark and there was a heavy felling of gloom and creeping silence; as though I was miles from the rest of society.
My first thoughts were those of panic. Had I slept with the window open and been kidnapped? Was I living the urban ledged? Was my kidney or liver on a table in this place somewhere?
Was I drugged? Hurt? Could I move? Where was Erik? Had he brought me here?
I craned my neck around to take in the rest of the room. There was a man standing by the door who I had never seen before and I screamed bloody murder.
"Don't bother Mademoiselle, we are far below the ground and no one can hear you," He spoke with a heavy accent which I could not place. He lit another lamp in the room and I could see him fully. He wore the dress of a gypsy.
I leapt off the bed and onto my feet, backing away from him though I did not know where I would go from there. I was trapped. For the first time I realized that I was holding my clutch, but there was nothing in there that would help me against this man.
"There is no reason to be afraid, I won't hurt you," he said. He spoke in a very businesslike tone; as though he was one of my clients and we were discussing contract loopholes, "I have all the time in the world but very little patience so I think we should get down to business,"
My mouth was dry. Nothing made sense, "W-who are you?" I asked, trying to keep the fear out of my voice.
He smiled. His teeth were less yellowed than I would have thought. "Why? If I tell you my name or anything about me would you know me?"
He had a strange way of talking. My mind was buzzing and I had a hard time making sense of him. I had a hard time making sense of anything at all.
"Would you like to know what you are doing here and what I am doing here?" He asked when I did not say anything,
"Yes," I said. My mind was calculating every possible situation. If he attacked me, if he tried to rape me; suddenly I remembered I had a lighter in my clutch and I slowly moved my hands to retrieve it. I kept my eyes locked on his the whole time. He had very strange eyes; they seemed to be all colors at once: black, dark blue, green, brown…he was a very odd man.
"I am here to give you a choice; you may stay here and marry Erik, or you may go home and never see him again,"
I was stunned. How did this man know Erik…and what the hell was he talking about?
"You are confused! Well Olivia I don't blame you. Even a smart lawyer like you needs more information to make the proper choice,"
"H-how did you know-?" I gaped,
"How did I know your name? And your job?" I nodded, "That is a good question. I see the shock is wearing off, you are thinking logically; that's important. You will need to keep your head for this," Again I had no idea what he was talking about.
He began pacing around the room, one hand in his pocket, "As you recall last night your fiancé told you a little fact about his life that you found hard to believe. He told you he was from 1881," I stared at him in fascination, "And you called him mad? Is that true?" I nodded slowly.
He stopped pacing and shook his head, "You should have believed him,"
"But it doesn't make sense," I said. I was still thinking of the lighter in my hand and wondering when I would have to use it.
"It only doesn't make sense only because you have never heard anything like it before; I am sure you felt like you had just been told that world was round,"
I was more confused than ever, "But the world is round," I said,
"Yes it is. And this is 1882," He said, smiling at me.
A strange tingling was raising the hair on the back of my neck. Who was this man and what was he going to do? Had Erik set this up to get me to believe him?
"Here is what you must decide Olivia; this is 1882, one year after Erik left France for the future. He is not mad, well no more than the rest of us. You did not believe in the man you truly loved, so now this is your choice. You may stay here in the past; give up your old life and all your friends and family. And you may stay with Erik," He paused,
"Or, you may go back to New York, to your own time. You will not remember any of this happened, and you will not remember Erik,"
I stared at him for a long moment. My fear turned to anger. "No," I said defiantly, "I would have to be crazy to answer you! For all I know I am in some creepy apartment in New York! Listen who ever you are," I took several aggressive steps toward him, "I had a very bad night last night and I need to see Erik; so if you know where he is you should tell me, and if you know nothing, which I suspect is the case, than you should let me pass. If you do I won't press charges, and believe me; I know every lawyer and every judge in the city, you don't want me to press charges," I hissed at him. My eyes burned and I tried to seem as imposing as I could. I was a New Yorker after all; I had even worked as an ADA for a few years, I was no wimp.
The man just laughed at me, "You see, you are fiery! You don't let people push you around! I knew Erik would like you! But believe me you are in 1882…but you are right; you deserve some proof. Follow me please," and with that he spun on his heel and walked out.
I stood rooted to the spot. He confused me at every turn. When I realized he was not coming back and I was just standing in a room, which was no help, I followed him.
The rest of the house was just as well furnished, and just as dark and unsettling. I followed the man out of the little home and I saw why it was so gloomy. We were not outside; we were in a cave or catacombs of some sort. It was breathtaking in a frightening sort of way. The caves stretched out in a grand expanse; each twisting rock formation mirrored in the calm waters of a lake.
"What is this place?" I wondered aloud,
"This? This was Erik's home before he met you," the man responded. He appeared to be not at all ill at easy in this oppressing mysterious place. "Now if you will step into the boat," he motioned to the small craft marred on the shore of the lake,
"You are joking if you think I am getting in that boat with you," I said, backing up toward the house.
"Olivia, think logically! If you don't come with me where will you go? You don't know any way out of here, and if you stay here no one will come for you,"
"You said this used to be Erik's home; he will return here," I said quickly,
"How do you know? How do you even know that this is really Erik's home? Unless you believe what I tell you, which you don't. Think logically Olivia! If you believe me when I say this is Erik's house, than you should also believe me when I tell you this is 1882. If you don't believe me when I tell you this is 1882, than you should also not believe me when I say that this was Erik's house. If it was not his house, then he will not come here and you are stuck here with no way to get out,"
Damn him for having a point. I was not sure what I believed, but I got in the boat. The man rowed across the lake. I am very familiar with water; my cousin had a house on the lake and I had been there every summer when I was growing up. However, this water frightened me. I could not shake the feeling that there was something lurking just below the surface. I was glad when the little boat reached the opposite side and I jumped out.
He led me through a tunnel. Very soon the light from the cave vanished. The man did not seem to need light to find where we were going, but I took out my lighter and sparked it for my benefit. Not that the small orb of light that is offered did me much good.
The walk through the tunnel was not easy. I kept tripping on the uneven ground. My three inch heals did not bode well with the floor of the tunnel.
"Where are we going?" I asked him,
"Up" he said simply.
For the hundredth time I wondered what in hell was going on. Someone was playing a very cruel, elaborate joke on me and it was wearing thin. I hoped that when we reached where ever we were going Erik and all my friends would jump out and yell surprise. However the more we walked the more I realized that this was probably not going to happen. The cave, the lake, it was too much to be a joke. So what conclusion could I come to? I still could not believe what this man insisted was the truth.
It took a long time before the man stopped; our time made longer by the fact that I kept tripping and having to stop and rest my feet. Suddenly there was a wave of light as the man opened some kind of door. To my complete surprise we stepped into a lavishly decorated dressing room. True enough, the décor did appear to have that 1800's flair. I looked around in wonder, turning completely around in a circle to take in the full view of the room. I realized that what the man had opened was not a door; it was a passage behind a mirror.
"What is this Clue?" I muttered,
"I guess that would make me Wadsworth?" The man said with a smile. I shook my head,
"If this is 1882 than how do you know about the movie Clue?" I narrowed my eyes and used my best cross examination voice,
"I said that this was 1882, I did not say that I was from 1882,"
"Than why are you dressed that way?" I pressed,
"Why are you dressed that way?"
"That's not an answer,"
"I am afraid that is all I can say, now if you will look over here please…" the man moved to the side of the room and drew back a set of curtains.
I looked out the window in disbelief. I took several quick steps toward it and threw the pain open, leaning out of it and letting the wind hit me.
There below me were the streets of Paris. All around me were buildings that I knew where not modern. On the streets trolley cars ambled by. People were walking everywhere, not paying any mind to the new automobiles and rail cars as they could be outrun by most anyone. Here and there horse and buggy's pulled passengers.
There was no denying it; it was 1882.
I slowly turned around to face the man.
"You believe me now?" he asked; my throat felt too tight for me to speak so I just nodded. "So what is your answer?" he said, "Or do you want me to review your choices? Stay here and marry the man you love or go back and forget him,"
My eyes filled with tears. What an awful choice! To stay here and give up everything; my job, my friends, my family…but I would get to be with Erik. Or to go back and forget about him…could I really do that? I had seen most of the men in New York, and none were good. What were the odds I would find another man like Erik? I hadn't realized I was crying until the thought of being with a man other than Erik made me sob.
What could I do? Choose love and stay or chose my own life and go home? It was impossible.
"Please hurry Olivia; I have all the time in the world but very little patience,"
"I-I'll stay here," I spoke in a voice just above a whisper. All thoughts of pride and strength were gone. I felt like my life had been ripped from me. Erik was all I was clinging to.
"Good Olivia, you made the right choice,"
I knew I had. It had taken me a lifetime to find someone I wanted to share my every waking moment with; and I couldn't have him in New York. I had to give it up. But that still did not mean it wasn't hard. I buried my face in my hands and wept shamelessly.
"Erik will find you in a week's time,"
"What am I supposed to do until then?" I asked, looking up. And to my horror he was gone.
"Hey!" I cried. I hadn't even heard the door open! I ran to the window and looked out. Paris was still there, and so was a long drop so I knew he had not jumped. He must have gone back down the tunnel. As much as I didn't want to set foot in that dark space again I went through the mirror,
"Hey!" I called out loudly, "Hello!"
Behind me I heard the door of the room open. He must have come back. "Where the hell did you go?" I asked as I walked back down the tunnel and out of the mirror. But I wasn't looking at the man anymore. A woman with chestnut brown hair had entered the room now. I noted that she was dressed in a very lavish corset gown and looking at me as though she had seen a ghost.
Erik did not want to open his eyes that morning either. He felt like he had right after the car accident; crushed and broken and heartsick. For ten minutes he lay, lids shut, trying to think of what to say to me to make me love him again.
Why did it have to be this way? He cursed bitterly under his breath. Why hadn't I loved him enough to believe him? He hadn't even gotten a chance to explain himself before I ran away. He sighed. Now was as good a time as ever to start trying to get back in my favor. Erik opened his eyes.
"I see you are well my friend,"
"Holy shit!" Erik jumped up from the sofa where he had been laying on his back in shock, "What the hell are you doing here!"
"This is my home," Erik's only friend from the past, Nadir, spoke,
Erik looked around him; sure enough he was in the daroga's modest apartment. Erik felt like the world had suddenly started to spin much faster in its axis.
"I think you have some explaining to do old friend; you disappear for a year and then a man brings you to my home, passed out drunk, and says you requested to be brought here!" he sounded mildly angry, "What plot are you mixed up in this time?"
Erik was not listening. He had just caught sight of himself in the mirror. Where just the night before his face had been perfect now the mask rested on one side. Standing and walking closer to the mirror he spoke slowly, "What year is it daroga?"
Now the Persian was truly worried about the mental health of his friend. He was sure that he had spent the last year brooding in dark solitude where his genius but twisted mind had finally begun to addle. "It is 1882," he said in a low voice,
1882. Erik's stomach curled. If he was in 1882 than were was I? "Have you seen a girl daroga? Her name is Olivia,"
Dear God another girl. The Persian shuttered. What horrors had passed between his odd friend and the fairer sex this time? It made sense to him now. Again he must have captured a girl, finally letting her go and in the process braking his already weak soul all over again. And he had come here to confess and apologize...
"No Erik,"
Erik shuttered. Was I here? Was I in New York? Did I still hate him?
"Please daroga…could you get me some water?" the Persian raised his eyebrows.
"Don't you think you had better explain yourself Erik?"
"Please, I will tell you everything after I have some water,"
With a sigh Nadir left the room to get some water for his strange friend. Erik was not thirsty at all. Thinking quickly, he had realized that Nadir would think he was crazy just as I had when he told his confusing story. But he wanted to tell someone. He needed to know what to do. There was one thing he could offer as proof.
Carefully, fearing what he would see, Erik lifted the mask from the side of his face. He had wanted the Persian out of the room for this in case he was once again deformed. Erik closed his eyes before he looked in the mirror; preparing himself to see the twisted red bumps and drooping eyelid. When he opened his eyes, he could have cried out with relief. His face was red in places, but only where the mask had been rubbing against it. The surgery had not been undone; he was not deformed.
Nadir came back into the room and Erik let the mask fall back into place. He would save the big reveal until after he had explained everything.
"Alright this has gone on long enough Erik," Nadir said, "I have your water," he set the glass down on the table and sat in a chair opposite the sofa, "Now tell me what has brought you back here,"
Erik sat down heavily on the sofa and picked up the water. When he had requested it it had just been a way of getting the Persian out of the room but now he realized how dry his throat was. Erik downed the whole glass in several large gulps. Finally he set his glass down and sighed, looking at the floor.
"Erik?" Nadir coaxed,
"You are not going to believe me when I tell you this daroga," Erik said darkly, lifting his eyes to look straight at him,
"With you Erik I expect the unexpected,"
Erik laughed mirthlessly, "Alright…you want the truth? I have been in New York,"
"America?" the daroga considered, "That is not so unbelievable…I would imagine a man of your talents would do well there,"
"Oh yes, I did do well there," Erik said, "I had a job as an architect; I was becoming the best in the city. And I was engaged…" Erik suddenly felt his heart break. Was engaged. How could he do this? How could he go on without me? And not even without me in the sense that I would not marry him, but without me in that I was a whole world away! Erik was sure that he had been sent back to his own time as punishment for not making me love him enough.
The Persian stared somberly at his friend. So there had been a girl. Some poor soul no doubt, who had had no choice but to tie herself to this man he saw before him.
"What happened?" The daroga pressed,
"What happened!" Erik shook his head, "I told her the truth! That is what happened!"
Ahh, the Persian understood. He had showed her his face.
"And she ran from you?" Nadir said,
"She thought I was mad," Erik said, "But not for the reason you think daroga…you see I was not in New York in 1881, I was in New York 2005. I was in the future,"
The Persian stared at him for a moment. So, he had finally gone round the bend. He had lost his mind completely.
"You think I am mad to, don't you?" Erik asked, a humorless smile spreading across his face,
"Erik…are you still drunk?"
"Ha!" Erik bit out a laugh, "Tell me daroga, do you remember how hideous I am beneath this mask?" the daroga nodded, "You remember that this face alone has the power to strike such fear and repulsion into anyone that it could stop their heart?" again the daroga nodded. "And do you remember how much pain my forced solitude has caused me?"
"Yes," the Persian said in a low voice,
"And you know that there is nothing I could do to change my appearance?"
"Of course," The Persian knew that nothing could save his friend from the fate his face condemned him to,
"Alright," Erik reached up and took off his mask. Even before seeing his face the daroga looked away, "It's alright, you can look at me," Erik said, and when his friend still did not turn to face him he shouted, "Damn it Nadir! Look at me!"
Slowly he looked up at the face of his friend. "What on earth…" Nadir stared at Erik. His face…it was perfect. Not a single scar or lump of skin.
"How is this possible?" he asked stunned,
"I told you…in the future they have ways of fixing these things," They have a lot in the future they don't have now, Erik thought. Showers, computers, TV's, cell phones; not to mention the dog and the woman he loved.
"Erik…I just can't believe it!" Nadir stared at his friend as though he had suddenly grown another Armani clad arm.
"Believe it daroga," Erik said heavily, "I think I was given a second chance to start my life again, and as usual I failed…I couldn't get her to believe me," He shook his head and his eyes suddenly felt wet. He looked down at the floor again so his friend would not see his emotion.
Across from him Nadir know he should avert his eyes; no one liked to be watched while they cry. However he found he could not take his eyes off the now perfect face of his friend. What had happened? He could believe that Erik had gone to New York City, but what of his face? The future? Was that really possible? He knew that where his friend was concerned it was best to expect the unexpected, even the unreal, but this was past the normal even for Erik.
And then the dark thought came into his head; had Erik become another Faustus? Had he made a deal with the devil he had felt so close to for so long? He knew that Erik would do anything to get a woman to love him; lie, threat, anything…what had he done this time?
Erik knew Nadir did not believe him, even after he had seen his face. But he didn't care. Nadir had already answered the only question he had had. I was not there, and he had not seen me. Of course his next question was where was I? But he knew Nadir could not answer that question.
No one could.
There were several moments of awkward silence where Erik tried to control himself. It was hard to do; he hadn't even gotten to say goodbye to me. And he knew he would miss everything about the city; the tall buildings, the restaurants, the people…
There was a knock at the door and Nadir went to answer it. In his absence Erik completely broke down. When he heard footsteps coming back toward him he quickly forced himself to stop crying and dried his eyes.
To his surprise, Nadir found that the man at the door was the same man who had brought Erik to his door in the early hours of the morning. Good, he thought, maybe now he could get some real answers.
"Your back," Nadir said to the man who was dressed as a gypsy,
"Yes, I need to speak to Erik," He spoke with a casual tone,
"Are you a friend of his?" Nadir asked as he let the man inside and began to lead him to where Erik was,
"I am a friend and a foe to all men," He said,
Nadir grunted. He couldn't shake the mysterious feeling he got from this man although nothing about him was outwardly odd.
Erik looked up as they entered. He did not recognize the man following Nadir into the room. They both sat down. Nadir waited expectedly for his friend to introduce him to the man. Erik waited for Nadir to do the same.
The man smiled, "Erik, I have all the time in the world but I want to spend very little here. As a New Yorker I am sure you are used to fast pace. Olivia has gotten you two half way home. The rest is up to you,"
Erik leaned forward. He didn't understand this man at all but he had mentioned the words 'Olivia' and 'home' and these where the two most important things to him so he listened.
"You don't follow me do you?" the man smiled, "Neither did Olivia at first. Let me explain. You and Olivia were both brought back here. You should have explained yourself better and she should have listened. She has already done her part to fix this mess; she had proven how much she loves you,"
"How?" Erik asked before he could stop himself. Already his heart felt so much lighter simply by hearing that I was in the same time as him.
The man sighed, "She had a choice; stay here with you or go back to 2005 without you. She chose to stay,"
Erik blinked. That was the best news he had heard all morning. And yet…he couldn't let her do that! Give up her whole life to stay here just for him?
"No," Erik said, "You can't let her stay here; she had a life in New York. She has to go back," As much as these worse pained him he knew this was the right thing to do.
The man laughed, "Erik your love for her is touching but this is no time to be stupid. Listen to me! You are half way home thanks to her. Had she chosen to go back none of this could have happened. But she did the right thing. Now, if you will be quiet, I will tell you what you have to do to get back home,"
"Wait," Nadir interrupted, "Are you saying that he-?"
"He was in the future, he is engaged to a woman named Olivia, and before I waste another minute I would like to tell him what he has to do," The man spoke.
"Good, are we all listening?" the man asked when no one had said anything, "Good. Erik, your enemy is having problems. Help him, and in a week you may take Olivia and go back to New York in 2005,"
Erik still did not understand, "I have a lot of enemies and I am not very helpful…what do I do?"
"Erik!" the man's voice was suddenly harsh, "Olivia was willing to give up her entire life to be with you so you might give up your pride to be with her; you know who I mean by enemy and you will find out what I mean by help."
Erik nodded. He knew exactly who he meant by enemy. He had no idea what he meant by help, but he would find out. The man was right. He had just been thinking that he would do anything to get things back to the way they were, and this was anything. Although he had been envisioning some from of torture, which he thought would be preferable to what he would have to do.
"Where do I find him?" Erik asked,
"Good question! He is not at his home. I believe he is staying with his sister. But at this time of day you would find him in the Navy offices,"
"I forgot he was in the Navy," Erik muttered. Suddenly Nadir knew who they were talking about,
"Oh no, you can't be suggesting he get involved with him again! The poor boy has been though enough!"
"That was then, this is now; Erik has changed a great deal…he has no reason to be afraid of him," the man said calmly,
Erik realized how true this was. The boy would not recognize him, he thought as he looked down at the mask in his hands. And then he wondered, "Why was I wearing this when you brought me here?" he asked the man.
The man sighed, "Think logically Erik! If I had brought you to your friend's house and told you him who you were, and he saw your face, do you think he would have believed it was really you?"
Erik grunted.
"Alright then here are the rules; you help your former enemy. For a week you do not see Olivia. If, in the end, I deem that you have done enough, I will send both of you home,"
"Where you will leave us alone?" Erik asked,
The man smiled, "I will be there, but you won't see me,"
Erik did not understand what he meant, but he guessed it was meant as a yes. The man stood and made to leave;
"Wait!" Erik cried, "Can you tell me where Olivia is? I swear I will not go and find her, I just want to know that she is safe,"
The man smiled, "She is safe,"
I didn't feel safe. The woman took one look at me coming out of the mirror and damn it if she didn't faint.
"This is ridiculous," I muttered. My sadness and fear were now gone. The man did not attack me and in a week I would be with Erik again. The only emotion I had now was anger. Damn stupid situation.
I looked at the still form of the girl lying on the floor. I shook my head in disgust. I did not have time for this! And then it occurred to me; I had no where to go. I moved to her side. It was the nice thing to do to try to wake her up, though I had no idea how I was supposed to do that.
"Hey," I said, shaking her shoulder, "Wake up!"
I shook her for awhile before her eyes fluttered open. She looked around dazed for a moment before she looked up at me. Her eyes widened, "Who are you?" her voice sounded almost fearful,
"The Easter Bunny," I said dryly,
"What?" the girl looked as though she almost believed me,
"Adriana Lima," I said sarcastically,
"That's a pretty name," I was going to correct her but then I thought what the hell? Let's throw caution to the wind,
"Thank you," I said, helping her to her feet,
"What were you doing…back there?" She motioned fearfully to the mirror,
"I don't know," I said; which was the truth. I still did not know who that man had been or where I had been. Erik's old house he had said…
"I didn't think it would still be there. They rebuilt a lot after the fire, I guess the tunnel did not get destroyed," she spoke in a low voice, her tone a mix of fear and sadness. But she had sparked my interests.
"So you have been down the tunnel?" I asked her, my eyebrows raised.
"Yes," Her eyes widened further and the fear became more evident in her voice.
"Whose house is that down there?" I asked her,
She had been looking at the gaping passage behind the mirror but at this question she turned to face me, "He lived down there," she dark brown eyes were shining with emotion.
"He who?" I asked. God it was impossible to get a straight answer from her!
"The Angel…the phantom…"
I rolled my eyes. This was getting ridiculous. "Who?" I asked again.
"He had a name…Erik…that was the only name he ever told me," She whispered,
Erik. So this girl knew Erik. What were the odds of that? Further more, that had been Erik's house that I had woken up in. I shuttered as I thought of Erik living all alone down there…he had told me he had been so lonely…
I shook my head, "Do many people know that is down there?" I asked.
"No," she said shakily, "Almost no one knows,"
I nodded. Between this girl, the man, and what Erik had told me I was getting a vague idea. Erik must have been lonely and shunned, because of his face. In 1881 he was a freak where in 2005 he was a victim of genetics, only an operation away from normal. So that was why he had never gotten an operation before; it hadn't been invented yet. I looked at the girl next to me,
"What's your name?" She was speaking French and so was I. Thank God Erik had been teaching me.
"Christine de Chagny," She said. Christine; that was the name Erik had said. So this was the woman who had broken his heart.
I nodded, "He mentioned you," I eyed her darkly,
"He is alive? You spoke with him?" She seemed shocked, and she backed away from the mirror a few steps more.
"Yes…" I said, but I didn't know if I wanted to tell her I was engaged to him. She seemed like she was wound pretty tight already. Telling her I was marring him might just have pushed her over the edge.
"How did you escape him?" she asked,
"I didn't have to escape him," I said coolly; this woman really was odd. I hoped that everyone I met here would be as damn insane.
"He let you go?" I suddenly got the feeling that this girl and I were talking on completely different wavelengths. I didn't understand her and she clearly did not understand me. I decided to go for a different approach.
"Ok," I said, moving in front of her, blocking her view of the mirror; I think just seeing it was too much for her, "You and I clearly have a lot to talk about," There was no doubt in my mind that this girl and I were supposed to talk. She was probably the one who knew Erik best after me. From what little I knew about Erik's life here I garnered that he did not have many friends. It was probably no coincidence that she had walked in while I was in here, "Why don't we…do you have a house?"
Christine thought miserably of her opulent mansion which was empty since her husband had stormed out one day after a fight and since then it had been empty except for the servants. She nodded.
"I think we should go there…to talk," I said in the same voice I might have used to instruct a five year old how to tie a shoe lace. I took her arm and guided her out of the room.
She followed like one in a dream. When I got out into the hall I realized I did not know where I was going. "How do you get out of this place? And where the hell are we?" I asked.
"Wow…he really did hypnotize you didn't he?" Christine asked, a sympathetic look in her eyes, "He does that…so you will stay with him,"
"Yeah…" I said slowly. I feared we were going back to the bad place where neither of us really knew what the other was talking about, "Why don't we just focus on getting out of here," Suddenly I realized I had been speaking English, not French.
"Please, my English is not very good," Christine apologized, "What did you say?"
Great, I thought. Not only did I have to work to decipher her French, she hardly understood English! This was going to be hell…
"Sorry," I said in French, "Let's go," I motioned for Christine to lead.
I followed her though the building. The place was huge, decorated in a rococo
style; everything was lavish and overdone. When we came to the end of the hallway the place opened up into a wide hall with a grand staircase and marble floors. I rolled my eyes at the giant statutes of naked women.
"So what is this place?" I knew my phrasing was not quite right but Christine understood,
"This is the newly rebuilt Paris Opera," She said, and it was hard to tell if she was excited or merely exhausted by this idea. As we approached the staircase I had the most wicked desire to slide down the banister.
I hated this. For all I knew I was stuck forever in a world of tight corsets and being treated like an idiot because I was a woman. God I was angry.
We walked out of the Opera House and I saw the streets for the first time up close. They were crowded and the smell of horse crap was unmistakable.
"What are you wearing?" Christine asked me as she led me to a fancy looking carriage,
I snorted. I supposed my Vera Wang cocktail dress was not like anything she had ever seen before. In fact, I knew from some of the stares I was getting even for the short time we were on the street that my dress was downright scandalous.
"This is a very stylish cocktail dress," I said proudly; no one but no one was going to insult my fashion sense.
"It's so short!"
"This is nothing, I have dresses that are much shorter than this," I said as we got in the carriage.
"Are you a…prostitute?" she asked me,
I glared at her. How could Erik have ever been interested in this little thing? She seemed so childlike, so fragile, so stupid; so unlike me. The moment I looked at her she recoiled.
"Please don't look at me like that; you look like him when you look like that," Christine remembered the infuriated gaze of her teacher and how it had frightened her.
I inwardly shrugged. I assumed that by him she meant Erik. I suppose it made sense that there were similarities between the two of us; when you were around someone so much you tend to adopt the things they do. I did not stop staring at her,
"I am not a prostitute," I said coldly, "I am from New York City; it's not my fault if Paris is behind in fashion," I decided this would be a better thing to say at the moment then "This is what they wear in the future,"
We said nothing else to each other for the rest of the ride. Christine was at a loss. She did not know what to make of me. All she knew what that I knew who Erik was, and that he was alive. She didn't know how to feel about that information. A year ago when she had left him, she had thought that he did not have the strength to live much longer. What had kept him alive? Was he still obsessed with the thought of her?
And who was I? Why was I dressed so strangely? Why was she taking me to her house? Well, that she knew the answer to that. Board out of her mind with her dull life, and lonely because she had no friends in her new position, she wanted something to do and someone to talk to.
We arrived at out destination.
With all he had come to expect from his friend, Nadir had never expected this. They were walking along the street in broad daylight. Erik was not terribly familiar with the streets of Paris, and he had no idea where the Navy offices might be. Nadir had agreed to take him there.
Erik walking along still dressed in the tuxedo from the night before and wearing his long, black coat. His hands were deep in his pockets and he was staring curiously at the people on the streets. He realized he had never seen this time of day in Paris. It seemed odd that he, the former Phantom, was walking around like any other man.
But not exactly like any other man. He was dressed differently that everyone else. True he was in a tux, but even that could seem less formal among all the other period dress. And he did walk differently; he walked like a New Yorker. Out of the corner of his eye Nadir watched him. He did appear very changed; he was more confident. No, not confident, he had always had confidence. He was not on edge anymore; he was not out of his mind anymore. He didn't even blink when two girls giggled at him as he passed. Nadir noticed that there was something strange in his eyes, a strange gleam.
"Well," Nadir said ten minutes later, "This is the place," they had stopped in front of a large blue building. Nadir turned somberly to his friend, "What are you going to say Erik?"
Erik shrugged helplessly, looking at the building as though he were looking upon his own doom, "I have no idea, I don't even know where to start,"
"This mission is impossible Erik," Nadir said darkly,
"Ha," Erik gave a hollow laugh, "Mission Impossible," he thought of when we had watched that movie together and how funny he thought the exploding stick of gum was,
"What about this is funny Erik?" Nadir asked bewildered,
"Nothing," Erik murmured. He sighed, "Well, here I go," he walked into the building.
"Good luck!" Nadir called after him. "You'll need it," he said quietly as he took one last look up and down the street, turning and making sure one of those damn horseless carriages, or automobiles, was not about to run him over. He hated those things and was sure they would never catch on.
We walked into the grand mansion; the doors were opened for us by the well dressed carriage driver. Christine ushered me into a drawing room and then stopped short, shocked. I was not the only surprise visitor she would have that day. Sitting in her beautiful house were the two very cross looking sisters of Raoul de Chagny.
"It is about time you returned Christine; you should not be at that Opera House; Raoul was right to forbid you to go," One of them spoke in a quick, harsh voice,
"Now sit down, we have something important to discuss with you," the other one said in just as ugly a tone.
Christine sat like a scolded child. Her eyes were lowered to the ground and she folded her hands in her lap. She did not bother to introduce me, or maybe she just forgot. In any case the two snobbish sisters raked their eyes disapprovingly over me and instantly judged me as not worth their time.
"Christine I will be blunt; Raoul is going to divorce you," One of them said.
They might as well have said that Raoul was going to behead her for the way she reacted. She screamed out in shock and immediately started crying.
"Oh stop blubbering; you knew that it could not last. You are of different classes! He is nobility and you are…a stage person," she said 'stage person' the same way I would have said 'slut.' She handed Christine some papers. "Just sign and be done with it. Go back to that beloved Opera House. You will have to leave this house…" Christine sobbed even louder.
I sympathized with the poor girl. A divorce was not an easy thing. I wanted to help her if I could. Not just for her sake but also she would be no use to me if she was wrapped up in her own issues. Carefully I took the papers from her and read them over. It was difficult as it was all in French.
"Just who are you?" One of the sisters asked me,
"Adriana Lima," I said shortly, not looking up from the papers I was reading,
"Well what do you think you are doing?" she asked crossly,
Deciding to give up on reading the whole thing, I decided to look from something else. I checked over the papers in my hand,
"I don't see the name Raoul de Chagny signed anywhere on these papers," I said sternly. I reached back in my memory to the time when I had been an ADA and used to question scum accused of murder. I also spoke in English to give me the advantage. I knew that these women considered themselves well educated and would speak the tongue well enough, but not as good as I. And I knew they would never admit it.
"Well…" One of the sisters began, and though she tried to hide it she sounded awkward.
"So I am going to assume that he has not signed these papers yet," I began to pace the floor up and down.
"Listen here…" one of the sisters started angrily,
"You know this is awfully nice of you to volunteer to come down here and ask your brother's wife for a divorce for him…he does know you came here doesn't he?"
The two women sputtered but neither of them said anything that sounded like real words.
"I see. So you came down here and talked to my client under false pretenses; claiming that you represented Monsieur de Chagny's wishes when you have in fact never received instruction from him to approach his wife!" I dramatically threw the papers into the drawing room fire, receiving enraged cries from both the sisters.
"If Monsieur de Chagny or anyone with any semblance of actually legal weight wishes to file divorce papers against Christine then we will look at them seriously. However until then, we are finished here,"
"Now you listen to me!" One of the sisters stood and came to face me, "It's Vicomte de Chagny! And I will not be told what to do by some…hussy my brother's wife has foolishly befriended!"
We glared at each other. My hands on my hips I refused to back down, "I am not a hussy! I am a New Yorker!" I said dramatically, "And you are trespassing; if you don't leave we will have to call the police,"
The two women stared and sputtered for a few moments before one of them spoke, "You think you're clever, don't you Christine," She was speaking in French now and her narrowed eyes shifted to Christine's tear stained face, "But you can not hang on; we will see to it that you leave this family," With that the two women left, throwing angry, repulsed looks at both of us.
When they left Christine began to cry again.
"Don't worry," I said simply, "They can try all they want but they will never succeeded; I know more about legal systems, even this one, than they do about being bitches and that's saying something," I sat down on the sofa.
Christine seemed comforted by these words because she stopped crying a little, "How do you know so much?"
"I'm a lawyer," I said, "But I think we should talk about something else; tell me everything you know about Erik,"
"Do you think my husband is going to divorce me?" she asked distractedly,
I sighed and smiled, realizing that until she was comforted she would be no help to me, "No, I don't; those women came here today with out talking to him. I am sure this is not what he wanted,"
"Yes," Christine seemed heartened, "Yes you are right; we love each other," she whipped her wet eyes slowly and tried to force a smile, "Thank you, for doing that," she added.
"You could re pay me for it by telling me what you know about Erik,"
Her face darkened slightly and she began, "It is a long story…"
I sat in her drawing room as she told me of his deception, his obsession, and his plots. His mood swings, his sadness, his mother. It was a hard story to hear. To think that my fiancé had been so in love with the woman before me it had made him mad. That no one would talk to him because of his face. That he was forced to live in that place underground…
Some things I already knew; that his mother had abandoned him. But I had not known that she had not even named him, and that she had never even told him her name. I wished more than ever that at that moment I could have had Erik next to me, to tell him I loved him.
I guess it should have worried me more, to find out all the things that Erik had once done. But it didn't. I realized I did not know the Erik Christine spoke of. He had never been this way with me. Of course I had never tried to refuse him, but still. He had always respected me. I had demanded it. If he did not than I never would have loved him. But I did love him. Christine story only made me cry; it did not change the way I felt about Erik.
Erik walked into the building, softly humming the theme music from Mission Impossible. He still had no idea how he was going to do this. He knew he only had one shot to convince the boy to talk to him.
He spotted what reminded him of the front desk his office. Fingers crossed, he walked up to the young man wearing glasses and a Navy uniform. He looked up from his desk as Erik approached,
"I need to speak to Raoul de Chagny," he said and then waited, trying to seem nonchalant although he could feel his palms sweating,
"He is not seeing people today," the young man said, looking back down at the papers on top of his desk,
Erik thought quickly, "He will see me, this is about the…well, you know. We are not really supposed to talk about it,"
The young man looked confusedly up at Erik; perfect, Erik thought. "Maybe you don't know about it, the information is highly confidential, you probably aren't high enough in the chain of command to know about it…"
"Yes I am," the young man said, not wanting to seem unimportant, "I just…didn't know if you knew about it…"
Erik laughed, "Just tell me where he is, alright?"
"Down the hall and up the stairs, first door on the right,"
Erik began to walk down the hall toward the stairs. Well, he had gotten past the first obstacle, he thought. But the hard part was still to come. He had no idea what he was going to say, or how he could get the boy to reveal to him what he needed help with. He trudged up the stairs. The door came into view. With one deep breath, he knocked.
"I'm busy!" a voice called. Erik shuttered. He had hoped he would never have to hear that voice again. But here he was.
"It's important!" Erik called through the thick oak door, "It's about the thing!" he didn't know what else to say,
There was silence for a moment. Then Erik heard footsteps behind the door and he stepped back as it opened. There is was, Raoul de Chagny. The man Erik had hated because he had everything and Erik had nothing. Erik now realized that was no longer true. Now he just hated the boy because his stupid problem stood between him and me and home.
"What thing are you talking about?" He asked in a slightly angry voice Erik had not known he had possessed. "And who are you?" He looked at Erik suspiciously, "You look familiar,"
Erik thought quickly. Although now he looked different, half of his face was still the same. Thinking that the name 'Erik' would bring bad thoughts into the boys head, Erik said,
"Brad Pitt," Why not? He thought amusedly to himself, "I came all the way from New York,"
Raoul considered for a moment. He still had no idea who Erik was, but he did know that New York was fast becoming a very important city. And as he did not want to seem as though he was not on top of his game in front of the confidant, well dressed man before him he let Erik in.
Erik was surprised to see that Raoul was in a fairly small office. His at Mont Building was bigger, Erik thought. In fact, he was surprised to see him in an office at all. He had expected that the boy would be sitting in his lavish home enjoying his wife and his fortune. What Erik did not know was that the de Chagny fortune was not enough anymore. The middle class composed of wealthy business men and some professionals like doctors and lawyers was emerging. Suddenly, Raoul was the one forced to keep up with the Jones's. And to do that he needed some sort of job.
"So…" Raoul tried to appear relaxed, but something about this Brad Pitt man unsettled him. He gave off a very confident aura; the fact that he was from New York bothered him to. He knew that when it cam to industry and wealth and modern ingenuity New York City was the leader. Worse, this man was talking about something he didn't know about. He did not want to appear foolish in front of him. Maybe he would try to get him to talk about something else for awhile… "You're from New York City?"
"Best city on the planet," Erik said smoothly. He could tell that he had Raoul on the run. Erik sat down in the chair in front of the desk.
"I've…never been," Raoul admitted,
"You should go," Erik said, wondering but not caring why he was beating around the bush, "Great place to take your wife…kids…" Maybe he was having problems at home, Erik thought, though he could not imagine how the couple he had seen happily run away together could be floundering,
"Ah…my wife," one of the main reasons Raoul had been working more lately was so he could stop thinking about his wife. He didn't understand her anymore. He did everything for her, but it just seemed to anger her. And when he insisted that they not attend the upcoming opening of the Opera House because of the scandal the year before, she had flown off the handle. Sometimes he thought it would have been easier to marry inside his own class; he knew that none of the other women possessing a title gave their husbands this kind of trouble.
Erik sat up straighter in interest; so maybe this did have something to do with Christine… "Having trouble there?" Erik asked,
"Ah…you know women…are you married?"
Erik shook his head, "Engaged,"
Raoul smiled, "That was the best part; and then right after the wedding. But then…" He shook his head, "things change,"
Erik tried to seem not too eager as he spoke, not wanting to push Raoul too far. But Erik sensed he was nearing his goal and this was difficult to do. Erik let out what he hoped was a good natured laugh, "You're scaring me now; what changes?"
Raoul sighed. He supposed he had been wanting to speak to someone who was not his sisters or his sisters husband's about this; but he had no one. He didn't really like anyone else in his class. Odd, he thought sometimes. He was fighting to fit in with people he didn't like.
"Christine is just…she doesn't fit in with…" Raoul suddenly stopped. He couldn't tell all this to a complete stranger. "Well never mind, she just is always angry with me,"
Erik tried not to feel to crestfallen. Raoul had not admitted everything, but it was a start.
"I guess we had better get down to business," Raoul said uncomfortably, "What do you need from me Monsieur Pitt?"
"Well," Erik said, "Uhh…ships," Erik's mind spun. What was he going to come up with? It seemed to him that he spoke before he thought, "Building ships,"
"I…I really don't…" Raoul began,
"No wait," Erik said, thinking of a pitch that would not result in him getting thrown out and asked not to come back, "Since Trafalgar Britain has rules the oceans," he remembered me telling him that. He had not really cared at the time but since I seemed interested he had listened. Now he thanked my zeal for history, "But is doesn't half to be that way; I've come up with a design that will leave the British Navy miles behind,"
Raoul was interested. He really was not the right person to see about this but it sounded new and cutting edge. This was just what he was looking for. A way to gain a reputation as a modern elite. Being responsible for the extreme betterment of the French Navy seemed like the perfect way to attain the social status he desired; a nobleman but also a shrew businessman. But he had some questions;
"Why France and not Britain?"
"I like the French better. I myself was borne here before I moved to New York City,"
"Why not sell your design to the American Navy?"
"I did; but they bought the design, not the rights to the design; I can give you the same opportunity, and I suggest you take it,"
"May I see the designs?"
Erik cocked his head, "You didn't receive a delivery earlier today?" Raoul shook his head, "Damn it," Erik muttered, "I only got here yesterday and I had other business to tend to. I haired a currier to deliver the blueprints here…they never came?"
Raoul shook his head no.
"Damn. Listen, let me get this all straightened out and I'll come back tomorrow," he leaned forward, "I cannot express just how beneficial this opportunity is to you; you will be looked at as the hero of the French Navy," Raoul certainly liked the sound of that.
Raoul stood and shook Erik's hand, "It's been a pleasure Monsieur Pitt,"
"I'll come back. Tomorrow. You will be here tomorrow?"
"Yes; can't go home," Raoul said, a hint of sadness in his voice.
Erik saw another opportunity, "Why not?"
"The wife; we got in a big fight after I told her she could not go to this Opera opening,"
Erik winced, "Maybe you should just talk to her," he suggested lamely, not knowing how he was going to help, "Tomorrow then," and he turned and left.
It was dark by the time Christine finished her story. She watched me as I wiped tears from my eyes.
"Will you tell me now how you know Erik?" Christine asked me,
I sighed, "We are engaged,"
The color drained from Christine face, "Oh no…"
"No, it's not like that…like it was with you," I corrected her, "He never forced me to do anything…I love him," I said honestly,
"Are…are you sure? He has the power to hypnotize…to control you without you knowing it," Christine said.
"No…he's changed. He doesn't hide underground anymore, he never tried to trick me into anything…he doesn't lie…" which was not true. He had lied to me about the most important fact about him. But I understood that. He had probably believed I would react just the way I had. I had thought he was mad and now look where we were…
Christine stared at me, "Be careful Adriana; he can be dangerous,"
I shook my head, "Not with me,"
Christine sighed, looking out the window, "My God it's gotten late!" she exclaimed when she saw it was dark out, "I suppose you want to go home,"
"To tell you the truth I don't have anywhere to go," I admitted,
"Where is Erik now?" She asked me,
"I don't know. He is coming for me in a week," I said sadly.
"That sounds like the old Erik; strange disappearances," Christine eyed me.
"Please," I said to her, "I helped you, and I'll help again if you need me. I swear you could not find someone in the whole city who can advise you like I can. Just let me stay here. Just for the rest of the week,"
Christine accepted my plea. There was plenty of room and she was lonely. She also knew I would be good to have around if the sisters returned.
That night I was tucked into the large, four poster bed in the guest room. I was wearing a barrowed nightdress that I thought made me look foolish. I sat in the bed with my knees drawn up to my chest and my eyes wide open in the dark.
I had never missed Erik more. My heart actually hurt. I didn't know where he was, and I was stuck in this strange house. With no hope of sleep I lit a candle with my lighter, which I had not shown Christine, and headed back to the drawing room. I shivered as I walked threw the dark house and my feet were cold on the bear wood floors. I was glad when I reached the drawing room with its soft carpet. I struggled for a moment to get the fire going again and eventually I succeeded.
I saw my target. The piano I had seen earlier. I sat on the bench and lifter the cover of the keys. Softly I rested my hands on the ivory which seemed to glow slightly in the dim firelight.
Erik loved the piano. I had bought him one just after Christmas. It was a baby grand piano and it was way too big for our apartment but I loved how happy it made him. Even with the cast he played. I used to sit next to him. He had taught me some things. I gently let my fingers touch the keys in the order of the notes he had taught me to form a song.
God I missed him. I missed the way he smiled, I missed his wit. Most of all I missed the feel of his arms around me, the sensation of his lips against mine. I closed my eyes and thought of when he had kissed me right before we had left for the Ball. It had been so wonderful…and now I didn't even know where he was.
I started to cry.
A/N: sorry this took awhile to get up but I have been away…in NEW YORK CITY! I was there for new years and I felt very Olivia…we walked down Madison Ave but nothing embarrassing happened…and we went past the Plaza Hotel which is under construction now…which I knew but in my story its not! I was so fun…and we walked past Tiffany's and Bergdorf Goodman's where Olivia shops! 5th Ave is sooo great! Ne way I hope you like this chapter and I am sorry about the underline thing in the pervious chapter…that was weird…ne way happy new year guys!