Shock and Awe
"I never told you anything about what happened last year between my wife and myself," Raoul said skeptically. He eyed Erik as though he was a snake ready to strike.
Erik shut the door behind him. Calmly he sat down in the chair in front of Raoul's desk. He shook his head and smiled, "I got the papers back," He held them up and then threw them on the desk. He waited for a moment and then spoke again, "I suppose that what happened last year between your wife and yourself was so under publicized that I couldn't just ask my friend's neighbor to give me the story,"
Raoul considered for a moment, "And I also suppose," Erik continued, "That since I am French it is ridiculous to assume that last year as this time I was in Paris,"
Raoul sighed and shook his head, "I'm sorry Monsieur Pitt," He gave a short laugh, "I guess I am just getting paranoid…everyone telling me what to do, and knowing exactly what I do do,"
It was Erik's turn to laugh.
"What's so amusing? If you don't mind me asking?"
"Not at all," Erik said, containing his laughter, "For one, you were so close to catching on, and then you were so easily talked out of your own opinion! No wonder your sisters have you divorcing your wife! And of course, you did just say 'do do'"
Raoul cocked his head, "What do you mean Monsieur Pitt?"
"I am going to guess that despite all the hungry reporters in Paris, you never released all the facts; how you almost drown…and how does you neck feel?" Erik smiled wickedly.
Raoul knew in an instant the he had never told anyone the whole story…certainly never that he had been nearly hung. But how was it possible?
"You…?" He stammered, and suddenly he knew exactly where he had seen half of the face sitting before him. He had always suspected that he knew this Brad Pitt person from somewhere, but HOW was this possible? How could it be him?
"Caught on at last have you?" Erik smiled.
"But how…?" Raoul looked at once helpless, confused, and angry.
"That is a tricky question, and one you don't need to concern yourself with right now. Your only concern right now should be your wife," Erik said calmly.
"How the hell did you get back here!" Raoul shouted, "And how the hell can you look…like you look! I've seen your face!"
"Quit shouting, it won't get me to answer you any faster," Erik said, remaining composed, "I can't really explain to you why I look the way I do, I can only say that I am here because of the mess you have made of your marriage,"
"Why does that concern you?" Raoul snapped, "Are you just waiting to swoop in on my wife and take her away?"
"You really are dense," Erik signed, "If it weren't for me, you wouldn't even be calling her your wife right now. Tell me, would it make any sense for me to stop your sisters if all I wanted was to take Christine away?"
"No," Raoul admitted shortly, "But that still does not mean I truest you…are you wearing some kind of mask?" He squinted at Erik's face.
Erik rolled his eyes, "No, I gave up the mask…it looked a little silly,"
There were a hundred things going though Raoul's mind, and as such all his questions were caught in his mouth at once and he was not able to say anything.
"Back to your wife…"
"Wait," Raoul managed to say, "You are…you are the…phantom? Aren't you?" He looked at once terrified and confused.
"I once was yes,"
"Right, then I'm having you arrested," Raoul stood and made for the door.
Erik stood up and blocked him, "That would be a mistake," Erik said coolly, "You want to go to the police and tell them what? This man once terrorized the Paris Opera and now he doesn't want me to divorce my wife?"
"Yes, that is exactly what I will say," Raoul said and tried to push past Erik. Erik placed one hand on the boys chest and pushed him backward,
"You think they will believe you? You hardly believe your own story! And remember how easy it was for me to convince you that you were wrong? The only thing that will happen if you try to report me to the police is that you will probably be recommended to a mental health professional,"
Raoul looked angrily at Erik, "So why the hell are you here? Why not just leave me and my wife alone?"
"Believe me I would love to, but you two screwed things up! If you weren't threatening to divorce her, I wouldn't have to be here!"
"That doesn't make any sense," Raoul said, sitting down again.
"No it doesn't, I'll give you that," Erik said, "And if there were any other way I would much prefer it, but as it turns out this is what I have to do,"
"Why do you have to do this?" Raoul asked shrewdly
"Because…" Erik didn't know what the best thing to say was. The truth? The same man who transported him to the future told him he had to so he could get back his fiancée? Or was that too bizarre? "I just have to. Believe it or not I do care a lot about Christine's happiness," He decided this might be more believable.
"You were obsessed with her! You would have done anything to keep her! And now you just expect me to let you back into our lives and start meddling with things?" Raoul yelled,
"I had her!" Erik cried, "If you remember my plan worked! I had her and I could have kept you from her forever and I let her go! Because I could not make her happy! You can!"
Raoul bit his lip as he mulled over Erik's words. As much as he hated to admit it Erik was making him think about his situation with Christine in a whole new light. By reminding him vividly of the situation just one year pervious he remembered. He remembered how he would have done anything, anything at all, to get his beloved Christine.
He would have rather had anyone else but Erik point this out to him, and he couldn't believe he was actually listening to the ex phantom, but he had a point. He had once been willing to die for this woman; why had he changed?
"As someone who once thought you were the luckiest man in the world because someone loved you, believe me; it's not worth it to give it up," Erik said quietly.
Raoul looked up at Erik, "I still hate you,"
"The feeling is mutual,"
Raoul sighed, "What…" he shook his head and muttered, "I can't believe I am doing this!" then he spoke louder to Erik, "What did you have in mind?"
"For fixing the mess you have created?"
"Yes,"
"Alright," Erik thought quickly. In truth he had never even believed he would get this far. Now that he had he didn't really know what to say. "Well…"
"You don't have a plan?" Raoul questioned angrily.
"I didn't even think you would listen to me! I had a hard enough time trying to think of a reason for you to talk to me in the first place!" Erik shot back, "It wouldn't kill you to give me a little help here…you know your wife better than I do…what have you done lately to make her angry?"
"You mean besides threaten to divorce her?"
Erik glared at him, "Would you be as funny I wonder with a rope around your neck?"
"Alright," Raoul said, searching his mind, "I guess…she wanted to go and see the opera re open…I didn't want her to, for obvious reasons,"
Erik sniggered, "Alright…so you let her go to that, and…" Erik had a sudden, very wicked, and very amusing for him, idea.
"And what?" Raoul said, and he didn't like the look on Erik's face.
"Never mind that now," Erik said smiling, "First I think you should write a letter to your wife, apologizing for all you have done,"
"I haven't been that bad," Raoul defended himself,
"You wanted to divorce her because of your sisters," Erik reminded him,
"Fine," Raoul sighed and he took out a piece of paper and picked up his quill, "What do I write?"
"Christ," Erik muttered. Did he have to do everything? "My darling Christine," Erik began.
"She is going to know I didn't write that," Raoul said, looking up from the paper.
"Shut up and write," Erik said exasperatedly.
Erik dictated the entire note to Christine detailing how sorry her poor, pathetic husband was and how much he missed her. He apologized for his sisters, and he promised they would not be over to visit again. He also explained that he had seen her in the newspaper and he believed there had never been a more beautiful woman. He asked her to meet him at the opening of the opera. He signed it, 'your foolish, apologetic, loving husband."
Erik spent the rest of the day explaining his plan and then talking Raoul into doing it. He had had to argue furiously, but in the end he had agreed. Then Erik had to work out how it could be pulled off properly. All day long the two most unlikely conspirators ever came up with a plan that would shock Paris and, with any luck, bring two couples back together again.
Late in the day they finished. In fact, it was dark before they both left the office. They walked silently side by side down the stairs and out the door. Erik was glad to have his coat; it was a cool night with quite a wind.
Erik pulled his coat around him and began to walk off toward the Persian's apartment.
"So did you really go to New York?" Erik turned around and stared at Raoul. He could not think for the life of him why the boy would be prolonging the time they had to spend in close proximity to each other.
"Yeah," he said slowly, and then he turned to walk away again.
"Did you change your name to Brad Pitt?" He asked.
Erik stopped and turned around, "Not legally," He waited a moment for the boy to say something else but he didn't so Erik started to walk away again.
"So…so what should I call you then? Brad? Or…or Erik?" The boy was actually following him.
"You can call me Mr. President for all I care," Erik said, stopping again, "What is this all about? Why are you following me?"
"I'm not following you," the boy said lightly, "I was just…trying to be amiable…trying to have a conversation…" he looked away awkwardly.
Erik narrowed his eyes, "You're afraid of going back to your sisters and telling them you're not getting a divorce,"
"No," Raoul shifted, "I'm afraid of going back to my sisters and telling them I'm not getting a divorce,"
"Jesus Christ!" Erik swore,
"Listen you don't know them! They're mad! I just want someone with me who knows how to kill people when I tell them,"
"Dear God you're serious," Erik said disgustedly. The boy gave him a pleading look, "Fine," shaking his head he followed the boy in the opposite direction of the Persian's apartment.
Raoul's sisters were both in the same house. They planned on ambushing him once he returned home to go over the final paperwork of the divorce.
"Good you are home," One of them said, and then her stern look lightened slightly, "Monsieur Pitt! What a surprise!"
Erik nodded awkwardly, "Ladies," he slightly bowed his head.
"I have something to tell you girls," Raoul said heavily as he sat down.
Ten minutes later the people in the neighboring house actually alerted the authorities to a disturbance in the home that appeared to involve the Vicomte Raoul de Chagny and his sisters.
Inside the house Raoul caught a wine glass to the face before Erik pushed him out the door, catching the matching wine glass aimed at them as a parting gift before it shattered.
Outside again Erik doubled over with laughter.
"That was not amusing," Raoul said angrily, his hand on his face.
"Yes it was! Your sister kicked you ass!" Erik stopped laughing only to take one look at the boy and start laughing again, "You weren't kidding were you? Your sisters really are crazy," he looked back at the house. "Well, goodnight," Erik said, and he began to walk away.
"Wait!" Raoul hurried after him, "I can't go back in there! What am I supposed to do now?"
"Not my problem," Erik said, picking up his pace and walking toward the Persian's apartment.
"Yes it is! You said you would help me," He grabbed Erik by the shoulder and Erik quickly threw him off. At that moment they passed under a lamp light and Erik noticed that the boy's face really was cut quite badly.
Erik shook his head. Never had he thought he would have to help the boy this much. "Jesus," he cursed again, "Come on,"
Erik led the boy all the way back to the apartment. It was quite a hike, "Can we get a carriage or something?" Raoul asked. It was difficult for him to walk while he was covering half of his face to try to stop the bleeding.
"No," Erik said shortly.
"Why not?"
"Because I feel that would make life easier for you and that is the last thing I want to do,"
"So why are you helping me at all then? Is all this really to see Christine happy or do you have underlying motives?" Raoul asked,
"Of course I have underlying motives. After this I plan on invading Poland," Erik stopped a moment to make sure he was going in the right direction. They were in the light of a bar window and Raoul took his hand away from his face.
Erik looked at his blood stained hand, "You really are in bad shape aren't you?"
"Yes," Raoul said angrily, "How much further are we going?"
Erik had been watching the men going in and out of the bar and he had a sudden idea, "Why don't we go in here?" Without another word Erik entered the bar.
With no other choice, Raoul walked in behind him. He regretted it the moment he did. The bar was most defiantly seedy. There were plenty of tables at which men were seated, smoking cigars and playing cards. Scantly clad waitresses were walking through the tables delivering drinks in dirty looking glasses.
Erik calmly went to the bar and sat down, ordering a whisky. Raoul stood shocked in the door for a moment before he quickly went to Erik.
"We can not stay here!" He cried angrily, "I can not be seen here!"
"What's wrong with here?" The broad, grubby looking bartender had overheard Raoul and now glared at the well dressed boy.
"I can't think of anything wrong with here," Erik said simply, raising his glass and then taking a large gulp of the liquid.
"Damn right," The bartender laughed at Erik, clearly not bothered by anyone who liked to drink and liked to drink in his bar. Then he turned his attention back to the boy, "What happened to your face?"
"Oh he's a boxer," Erik said quickly, a sly smile coming over his lips, "Don't let him fool you; he's one of the best in all of Paris!"
Raoul glared at Erik, so appalled he could not find his voice.
"Really?" the bar tender looked interested, "Claude!" He called out and an enormous looking man stood up from his card game, "Now," the bar tender looked back at Erik and Raoul, "He is a boxer…Claude!" the large man had come up behind them and was staring at the bartender,
"Claude this man claims he is a better boxer than you are," The bar tender pointed a thumb at Raoul,
"Prove it," the big man said, and without another word of warning his fist caught Raoul in the stomach. Raoul let out a big huff of air as the man wound up to hit him again.
Erik watched this fight progress amusedly. He had been hoping for something like this to happen, it was his whole reason for entering the bar in the first place. He laughed slightly and finished his drink as Claude mopped the floor with the boy. That is for calling me a monster, Erik thought to himself.
However when it looked like the boy might actually be getting seriously injured Erik sighed and intervened. Erik walked calmly over to the big man, picking up a chair as he went. With one hand Erik smashed he chair against the man's back. He spun around only to catch Erik's fist in the jaw.
Momentarily free from the man's grasp, Raoul ran out the door. With a slight smirk Erik turned and followed him out.
"Hey! You owe me for the drink and for that chair!" The bar tender yelled at Erik as he left.
"Put it on my tab," Erik said casually as he left the now chaotic bar.
"You…bastard!" Raoul gasped when Erik had come outside. Raoul was hanging on to a lamp post to support himself, "You did all that on purpose!"
"Oh calm down," Erik said lightly, "I didn't let him kill you,"
"Oh than I guess I should be thanking you!" Raoul said sarcastically.
"If you insist…your welcome," Erik said with a smirk.
"I am leaving," Raoul said frustrated, "I never should have listened to you," he turned around and started to walk back.
"Where are you going? Back to your sister's house?" Erik asked in a harsh tone. He sighed; he realized that he had had his fun, but he would die if it cost him this entire operation. "Wait," Erik quickly stepped in front of the boy and blocked his retreat, "You probably shouldn't have listened to me, but you did, and I think it is because you really want to get back with your wife, and I think you know I can help you,"
Raoul stared him straight in the eye, "You almost got me killed,"
"Old habits die hard," Erik responded. He wondered if he had gone too far; his main objective here was not revenge, it was to help the boy and get me back and go home. Though he did have to admit it had been fun to see the fop get punched in the face.
Raoul had to laugh. "Fine," he said, "But I really do hate you,"
"Fare enough," Erik said with relief.
Ten minutes later the unlikely pair showed up at the Persian's apartment.
"What happened?" Nadir gaped as the two men walked into his apartment. The last person he had expected to see show up there was Raoul de Chagny. Not to mention the fact that the boy had cuts on his face and appeared to be holding his ribs.
"A lot," Erik said simply, "I believe you two already know each other?" Raoul and the Persian had met before and they shook hands.
"May I…?" Raoul indicated that he wanted to sit down,
"Of course, I am just going to take my friend and have a talk with him," The Persian pulled Erik into the small kitchen and glared at him, "What did you do to him?"
"I didn't do anything," Erik said mildly, "His sister threw a glass at him and then a very big man named Claude hit him in the stomach,"
"And then you brought him back here?" The Persian questioned.
"I had no where else to bring him,"
"Good God Erik, what the hell are you doing to do to us all next?" the Persian shook his head.
Raoul was taken care of. The Persian gave him rubbing alcohol for his cuts and ice for everything else. After this, the three men sat awkwardly in the living room, all of them wondering the same thing…where was everyone going to sleep?
The Persian would have his own bed, and Erik had very nobly given Raoul the sofa and offered to sleep in a chair.
But Erik wasn't sleeping. He still had half of his plan to carry out. He sat at the Persian's dinning room table and took out a piece of paper and he began to write. It was a cold night and it was quite late but Erik wanted this done.
He walked all the way to the de Chagny mansion, his letter to me clutched in his hand. He knocked on the front door and hoped one of the servants was still awake. A wary looking butler came to the door.
"I am sorry Monsieur, but the ladies have retired to their rooms," He said to Erik and then he made to shut the door.
"Wait!" Erik cried, grabbing the door with one hand and keeping it open, "Could you just give this to Mademoiselle Lima please? It is very important,"
The butler gave him a suspicious look but took the letter inside and wished Erik a good night. His work finally done, Erik trudged back to the Persian's apartment, not at all excited about sleeping in a chair next to the boy.
The butler handed the letter to a maid who in turn took it to me.
I was not having a good night. After the initial excitement about hearing a message from Erik, I had begun to wonder why on earth Erik had not come in after me! He had known I was here…why had he left?
Was he mad at me I wondered? Angry because he had seen me out at night? He couldn't possibly think I had forgotten about him could he?
My mood was not helped by Christine, who received a lovely letter from her husband asking her to forgive him. She had been so happy it made my dilemma worse by contrast.
The maid knocked on my door, "Mademoiselle Lima?" she said as I opened the door, "This just came for you," she handed me the letter. Excitedly I took the letter. I ran back into my room and jumped on the bed. This was like getting my college acceptance letter and my bar scores all at once. I knew who the letter had to be from.
I opened it and read;
Olivia my love,
I am so sorry for all of this my darling! I was so worried about you…I hope you are safe, and not too put out by Paris fashion. I saw in the paper; you manage to retain your style. As I hope those two terrible sisters told you, I thought you looked absolutely stunning. I owe you an explanation for so much, but I will start with why I did not come in to see you today. I was told by the same strange little gypsy man that I think also visited you that I was not to see you for a week. In the mean time I am to help Raoul de Chagny, a man I hate, get back together with his Christine. So far things are going well, but believe me being away from you is hell. I am so sorry I sprung the truth of my past on you, I never meant for this to happen. I think about you all the time; I miss everything about you…mainly your ability to make me laugh. I dearly miss your laugh, your smile. I think it goes without saying that I miss your touch. I think I may die of longing before I see you again.
I do have instructions for you Olivia, or are you Adriana now? That did make me laugh darling. If you have not figured it out yet, I told the boy at first that my name was Brad Pitt! Anyway darling, go with Christine to the opera on Friday.
Be there my darling and I will see you again. Until then…I can't even begin to explain how I miss you. I love you my dear and I hope you can forgive me for what I have gotten you into.
Sleep well my love.
Your devoted fiancé, Erik.
I started crying at the first sentence and I continued long after I had read the thing over several times. My poor Erik! He had no need to apologize! It was all my fault…I should have believed him. And now he was being forced to help a man he hated.
I ran my fingers lightly over the paper. Erik had touched this very paper with his long, artful fingers. Erik had sat with this paper before him just as I did now. That knowledge alone at once comforted me and broke my heart.
Kissing the letter and wishing it was Erik, I tucked it under my pillow and tried to sleep. My heart had never felt so torn apart. I always knew that love was hard, but this was ridiculous! I had already battled through the millions of un dateable toxic bachelors and finally I had the one! For anyone else but Erik none of this would have been worth it.
Erik found he absolutely could not sleep in the chair. He took the pillow and light sheet and stretched out on the floor. It was too cold so Erik covered himself with his coat as well. Three hours before dawn Erik finally slept.
Raoul of all people was the first to wake up the next morning. His face hurt and he wondered if it would scar. His ribs hurt too and none of it had been helped by sleeping on an uncomfortable sofa.
It was ridiculous, he thought to himself. He was an aristocrat, and here he was, sleeping on the sofa of a lower middle class immigrant. Just feet from the Phantom of the Opera no less, he thought to himself. He turned to see that the chair was empty. A sudden jolt of fear run through him; where was he? Lying in wait? Raoul's eyes darted frantically around the room.
With relief he saw Erik, sleeping soundly on the floor underneath his oddly fashioned coat. As he watched him, Erik grumbled in his sleep and repositioned his head on his barrowed pillow. He could kill him, Raoul thought. He could take a kitchen knife and slit his throat. But Raoul knew he would never do that.
He didn't trust Erik. He wasn't even sure it was really Erik. But was there any other explanation?
If he told himself the truth though, Raoul had to think he had this coming. He had not been a good husband and he knew it. Initially he had been called away by work and had to leave his wife alone.
Every day he thought about her and how he missed her. He doubted any of this would have happened if it had not been for Tray London. London had been a friend of his, who resented Raoul's marriage to the beautiful ex diva, and Raoul had believed him when he had said that he had had an affair with his wife.
It had all almost come out in a huge scandal that would have cost Raoul quite a bit to handle, except that London had made a mistake and claimed to have been sleeping with Christine at a time when three hundred people had seen her with Raoul's two sisters. With his own sisters supplying an alibi, Raoul realized London was a liar.
However his sisters reported that she was not fitting in well with the other members of their circle. Raoul was convinced that it was Christine's own actions which had made it possible for London to claim that he had been having an affair with her.
Knowing her name was not irreprehensible, and he knew another scandal would ruin her not to mention him. He was afraid that by acting the way she was she was leaving herself open for another attack like the one London had planned.
He should have known how foolish he was being. He should have recognized how warped his view of the situation was. It had to be warped, Raoul thought, if even someone like the Phantom, or Erik…or Brad or whatever his name was even saw how wrong he was.
Raoul was so confused about the sudden reappearance of the ghost in his life he was sure he could have pondered it all day, but he was not left to it for long.
"Oh you are awake," The Persian walked out into his living room. He had been half expecting to see no one there and discover that it had all been a weird dream, but there was the boy… "Where is Erik?"
The boy was about to respond but suddenly there was no need. The Persian tripped right over his friend's body, kicking him in the ribs and stepping on his back in the process,
"What the hell?" Erik grumbled loudly.
"Sorry friend! I didn't see you down there!" Nadir laughed as he spotted his friend stretched out on the floor. "What are you doing?"
"I was sleeping," Erik griped, sitting up and pulling himself off the floor. He stretched his stiff limbs and yawned.
"You didn't sleep well?" The Persian asked him.
"Your floor was hardly comfortable," Erik said dryly.
"You know you used to sleep on much worse; I think you have gone soft on me my friend," Nadir laughed.
Erik grunted, "Well," he said, "I guess we had better get started," He looked over at Raoul.
"Not that I want to know, but what is it that you need to get started doing?" Nadir asked.
Erik explained his plan to his friend.
Nadir shook his head, "You still frighten me sometimes you know,"
When I woke up Erik's letter was still on my mind. I took it out and re read it. I guessed it was a good thing I had not tried any harder to ruin little Christine. So I had had to agree to stay in the past forever and he had had to agree to help Raoul de Chagny.
But I was going to see him again, and far from being mad at me he was apologetic. I just had to make it to Friday and I would see him again. And then what I thought to myself? Where would we go? Would we stay in France? Could I convince him to go back to New York?
There was no point in wasting time though, so I pulled myself out of bed. I looked out the French doors and saw that the sky was gray and threatening to rain. Perfect, I thought.
I discovered Christine downstairs. She was positively giddy, fluttering around the dinning room like a bird.
"Good morning!" I think she might have chirped this, "it's a lovely day isn't it?"
"If you like rain," I said mildly.
Christine ignored this, "I had the cook make us a huge breakfast," Christine smiled happily, "Because we have work to do today,"
A close study of Christine confirmed my original prognosis of the girl; a typical case of the marry-eds. If I checked, I might have discovered that she was somehow related to Susan.
Christine was one of those girls who liked the idea of being married. Of Prince Charming and the evil monster she needed to be rescued from; first it was Erik (which had been completely foolish on her part) and now it seemed to be the Paris aristocracy.
The ironic thing was, of course, that the man she was so quickly welcoming back into her life was the very man who had fed her to the lunatics who lunch in the first place.
Still, despite the fact that he had left her high and dry, Christine was ready to catch the train back to Raoul-mania. Despite my own disgust for this, it seemed to work out alright for me. If Erik's objective was to get the two of them back together, then the fact that Christine was ready and willing was a good thing.
I put on another one of Christine's slips that day. Christine mentioned that she wanted to go to the tailor and have a new dress made for the opening of the opera.
Since the sky threatened rain we took the carriage. It was still a warm day out, but occasionally a burst of thunder ripped for the sky and I knew we were in for it.
The shop we went to was a place Christine had gone to get dresses made on pervious occasions. It was nothing like what I was used to. True, there were shops containing ready to wear clothes with attractive window displays, the great grand parents of places like Saks 5th avenue and Bergdorf Goodman, but they were not good enough for Christine.
We walked into the shop and were eagerly greeted by two dark haired women, one had a very tight bun in her hair and the other had very red lipstick.
"Bonjour! Viscountess! You looked so beautiful when we saw you in the paper! And this! This is your friend from New York?" The one with red lipstick said.
"Oh you are too kind Isabel! Yes, this is Adriana Lima," Christine introduced me and I thought that later it might be time to tell her my real name was Olivia Moss.
"I see you are wearing your…New York fashion," the one with the tight bun in her hair spoke this time. She looked disdainfully at me and I got the feeling she thought there was something wrong with wearing a slip in public.
"Yes," I said nodding; I didn't really know what else to say.
"Oh! You have to excuse Genevieve!" Isabel Lipstick took my arm and whispered in my ear, "She doesn't approve of anything new!"
"Well then she is going to hate me," I whispered back.
Christine did not really know what she wanted, so I helped her in her design a bit. What I had in mind was based on a Nicole Miller silk dress I had seen in the window and Bergdorf's. The silk with the dropped waist would look very flattering on the little stick figure. Of course, the dress I had seen had been a light yellow, but that would wash out her fair skin. I picked out a stunning blue for her instead.
Parts of the design had to be changed. Christine absolutely refused to wear it as I drew it; it was far to revealing. I was frustrated but really, what was it to me if she wanted to tow around yards of extra fabric?
Originally I had been planning on wearing the same Vera Wang dress, but Christine insisted it would be more fun if I got a new one as well. I protested, I told her I loved the dress I had, I told her I didn't have any money, but she insisted.
My dress was completely original, as in I based it off of my fantasy dress and not just one I had seen in a window. It would be red silk. It would have a halter style top with a scandalously low neckline and it would be backless. It would be a full length gown, but it would have a slit up to my thigh and I explained that I wanted the silk to flow when I walked.
Bun, Lipstick, and Christine were all shocked.
"You can't wear that!"
"It's completely improper!"
"You'll be practically naked!"
"I know," I smiled wickedly, "When Erik sees me he is going to faint!"
I knew that dresses like these would cause the biggest stir in Paris since the Revolution, but I didn't care. If Fate was going to stick me in 1882 than Paris was going to have to deal with all the shocking consequences.
The two dressmakers admitted that it would be heard for them to make such different dresses in the amount of time we had given them; but they promised they would pull everyone off of their usual work to complete them in time. It made sense; a Viscountess asks you to make two dresses that promise to make you famous, you do it.
Our next trip was to the cobbler. He practically laughed us out of the store when I showed him my foot and asked him to make a pair exactly the same in such a short time. When we explained what it was for, and that if he could pull it off it would elevate him above any other cobbler in all of Paris, he said he would get started right away. I noted that when we left, he switched his sign out front from 'open' to 'closed.'
Erik and Raoul had business that day as well. It was nothing to do with the Navy offices or ship building; in truth Raoul was not really needed there and since the marriage trouble with Christine he had only been using it as a distraction from his real problems.
The very strange threesome walked up the Paris street. Erik, in his modern black Prada coat and suite he had been wearing on the night of the Met Ball. Raoul, in a camel colored wool jacket and his Navy uniform underneath. Nadir, who had not wanted to be left behind and miss all the excitement, wearing half traditional Persian half French lower middle class attire.
After walking a ways the three men ended up getting a cab to take them to their destination. It was Erik who hailed the cab. After the yellow death cars of New York City getting one of these horse drawn buggies to stop felt to Erik like a walk in Central Park.
Their destination was none other than the Paris Opera. All three of them were lost in silent thought as they approached the building. Each of them had such memories of this place; love, life, death…It amazed them that they were returning.
It amazed the owners of the opera no less. The Paris Opera had been repurchased by two English men who did not believe in ghosts. However, they were aware that something out of the ordinary had happened involving the Vicomte de Chagny and the woman he was now married to. That was why Monsieur Royce Bergman and Monsieur Duncan Bock were so surprised to see him walk into their offices.
"Vicomte! This is unexpected…" Royce Bergman said awkwardly, turning to his business partner and looking for help.
"Yes we weren't…expecting you…" Bock was no help.
It appeared Raoul did not quite know what to say either. Erik elbowed him in the gut in order to get him talking.
"Right!" Raoul said, rubbing his already sore ribs and glaring sidelong at Erik, "I am here with a business proposition…as you might know my family used to be the patron's of this Opera House. We would be interested in returning to that position,"
This was half of Erik's plan. Raoul's parents were extremely old and living in a secluded mansion in the north of France. They left all their financial decisions to their son. Erik had managed to convince him that if he was looking for a good way to invest money, the Opera House would certainly do well.
"That fantastic!"
"Really!"
The two men spoke at the exact time. It would have been impossible to tell which one was more excited about the prospect. Repairing and re opening the opera had not been cheap and they were still not sure if their investments would pay off. Having some more money come in through the Vicomet would be most welcome.
"I have copies of the contracts I drew up with the pervious owners; I should be able present them to you in the next few days. If you find the terms acceptable than we can get that signed and underway,"
"Wonderful," Bock had never been more enthusiastic.
"There is one condition I have however," Raoul's voice wavered a little and he glanced sidelong at Erik again. Erik nodded silently. Raoul took a deep breath and continued, "I need a favor from you two,"
"Name it," Bergman smiled.
Raoul was afraid he would say that.
The trop of dancers and singers rehearsing on stage eyed the three men approaching with their new employer's with the same confused expression Bergman and Bock had given them.
No one was happy when Bergman and Bock interrupted their rehearsal. However, when they heard what their bosses had to say, they were all shocked and really quite amused. None more so than Meg Giry. When she heard what her friend's husband had in mind her first thought was to call on Christine and tell her.
As the unknown man, Monsieur Pitt, talked to the orchestra Meg made her move to sneak out and go send word to Christine.
Out of the corner of his ever watchful eye Erik saw Meg start to slink off the stage. Erik made a slight motion to get Raoul's attention, "Little Meg seems to be making an early exit,"
Raoul turned to him, "Do you think she will go and tell Christine what we are up to?"
"Is this the Paris Opera?"
Raoul muttered a curse under his breath and ran off after Meg. He caught her and stopped her just off stage.
"Meg!" he cried, then he lowered him voice when he realized he had her attention, "You can not tell Christine what I am going to do…it is not the same if it is not a surprise,"
Meg bit her lip, "I sort of feel like I owe it to her,"
"Remember Meg, she was the one who cut ties with you before; she didn't even want to be your friend," Raoul said,
"That's right," Meg nodded, "She stopped being my friend at your request…I don't think I like you Vicomet,"
"All that is going to change! I promise! Just please don't tell her,"
Meg nodded slowly, "Alright, but if this gives her a heart attack it is not my fault,"
Finally everything was coming together, and falling apart at the same time. Our plans, Erik's and mine, were ready to be set in motion. It was me who was falling apart.
When I had first seen the 1882 Paris street and chosen to stay with Erik, I had almost not believed it. It was shock; like after a person you really love dies and you don't quite believe it for awhile.
The night before the opening it was beginning to set in. I would never see my friends, or my mother and father or my sisters again. My life as I knew it had died. Now I was just waiting for my new one to be borne.
Erik didn't sleep the night before the opening. He sat alone in the Persian's apartment, mulling over what he was planning on doing, knowing it would shock Paris all over again.
The next day Christine and I picked up our dresses from Lipstick and Bun. They weren't exactly what I expected, but they did look gorgeous. We were told that they were not as hard to make as originally thought; it was sort of like making a simple slip.
The cobbler had had luck as well. Once again, the shoes were not exactly the same, but they would do.
Getting ready was an interesting affair. My procedure for preparing for a night out was completely different than Christine's, the only similarity being that we both wanted to take a bath and wash our hair.
I was occupied pulling my own dress on. I came out from behind the screen and inspected myself in the mirror. The dress fit beautifully, "Kudos to Lipstick and Bun," I muttered as I turned. I had to take off my bra because the dress was backless and I admit I felt a bit exposed. I turned to see the back and smiled, "Thank God for the thong," I muttered.
"Adriana?" I turned to see Christine at the door,
"What is it Christine?"
"What…how…what are you wearing under that?" She looked shocked.
I laughed, "Have you ever heard of a thong Christine?" She shook her head no. I laughed again,
"What?" she said dumbfounded,
"Never mind," I said lightly.
"Adriana-" Christine started but I cut her off.
I laughed harder at her, "Christine…my name isn't Adriana Lima. It is Olivia Moss,"
"Why-?" she looked confused.
"Because you are very gullible. You should work on that,"
I left her in silent awe and shock of my statement. But before I left the room I took one last look in the mirror. Yes, this was what I would be wearing the night the rest of my life was borne. I smiled at myself; 125 years in the future I was going to give Jackie and her friends at VOGUE one hell of a fashion icon.
Christine came and found me in my room. I was sitting at the vanity, putting on makeup I had had in my Fendi bag.
"What do you think?" she asked softly, spinning around so I could see the front and back of her new dress
"Looks good," I said.
She sat down in a plush chair across from me, "So you are Olivia, not Adriana,"
"Yes," I said, going back to smoking my eyes,
Christine blinked at me. Since the moment she had seen me walk out of that mirror she had had a feeling I would be different. How right she was. She sighed; her life had always been strange. She supposed there was no fighting it.
"Can you do that to my eyes?" She asked me.
I turned to her. I was surprised at how well she was taking this, "Yeah, just wait a minute," I finished my face and then moved on to hers.
When I realized we were both ready to go a strange feeling came over me. It was bazaar, surreal, that I was actually going to an opera to meet Erik. Not to mention that that opera was in 1882. I seemed to be moving in slow motion as I walked down the stairs and out the door along side Christine. I didn't even feel the rocky motion of the carriage as it took us to the Opera House.
The scene outside was a mad frenzy. There were reporters and men with large flashbulb cameras everywhere. In loud voices they called to the many opulently dressed opera goers to stop and pose for pictures.
When our carriage stopped and the door was opened for us the roar of the press grew even louder. A footman, dressed in a black suit, handed both of us out of the carriage. It sounded like some kind of explosion as the shocked and thunderstruck exclamations of those around us as they saw our attire.
Christine looked like the weight of it all was going to crush her thin frame to dust, but I was enjoying myself. Take that Paris, I thought. And I wasn't going to stop with fashion. I spent years in law school and I would be damned if it was all going to go to waste in a drawing room drinking tea.
"Mademoiselle Lima? Viscountess de Chagny? Would you come with me please?" The footman spoke to us. We followed him inside. The whole place looked grand; there were live flowers everywhere and everything had been cleaned until it shown like the top of the Chrysler Building.
We were led up the stairs and toward the stage. As we passed everyone gasped at my dress; she is naked! How scandalous! Can you even believe!
"Adriana…I mean Olivia, everyone is glaring at us!"
"Their jealous," the truth was I didn't care what they were. This was my time now.
The footman stopped before a cloth curtain and ushered us in.
"Oh a box…fancy," I said as I stepped inside.
I turned around and looked at Christine, "Why aren't you coming in?" I asked her.
"This…this is box five," she stammered in a low voice.
"So? Since when was five an unlucky number?"
Christine shook her head and looked troubled, "Box five was his box,"
"Monsieur Pitt requested that you be seated here," The footman said, obviously trying to help us in our little dispute. However this is all the advice he gave us because then he was called away.
"I can't go in there! It was the Ghost's box!" Christine said adamantly.
"Who is the Ghost?" I asked
"Erik!"
"But Erik is the one who wanted us to use the box!"
"No Monsieur Pitt wanted us to, whoever he is,"
"But Monsieur Pitt is my fiancé! He wouldn't put us in any harm!"
"I thought you were engaged to the Phantom!"
"Who?"
"Erik!"
"I am!"
"But you just said Monsieur Pitt was your fiancé!"
"Erik is Monsieur Pitt!"
"What!"
"It's a fake name he has been using,"
"So…" Christine thought about it for a moment, "Erik wants us to use his box?"
"Wait who's on first?" I laughed as it all finally became clear.
"What?"
"Never mind," But to myself I muttered 'third base' as I sat down.
Seeing nothing else for it, Christine came into the box and sat next to me.
Our footman hurried off to find Monsieur Pitt backstage. He saw the tall form of the man pacing back and forth and run up to him.
"They are here Monsieur,"
Erik nodded to him and went off to find Raoul de Chagny.
"They are here," Erik told him.
Raoul stared wide eyed at him, "Are you sure I have to do this?"
"It's too late to back out now; besides, you want to show your wife you have seen the error of your ways don't you?" Erik asked him.
Raoul nodded but he felt his throat was too dry to speak. He nervously started to pace back and forth.
"This is going to make me look like a fool," Raoul moaned as he paced.
"If it makes you feel better I already think you look like a fool," Erik said in a would be helpful voice.
"I never did like you," Raoul said to him. Erik just smirked and shrugged.
"Ahh…" Nadir came back from the front of the stage and laid his hand on Erik's shoulder, "They are ready,"
Erik nodded stoically, "Here we go."
Erik walked to the front of the pit and took up the vacant conductors stand, grasping the wand the conductor had left there. When he had heard what the strange Monsieur Pitt and the Vicomet Raoul de Chagny were planning, the conductor had walked off in an angry huff. He had refused to be a part of something so non traditional and outlandish.
Immediately Erik offered to fill his position. They were performing an old opera that Erik had heard a thousand times. Every note was perfectly committed to his genius musical mind and he had no doubt that he could conduct the pit orchestra. What he did have doubts about was what would come after. He just hoped the boy didn't run away.
Curtain was up before I knew it. I thought that it all was wonderful; the music was powerful and the singing wonderful. However, not even midway through the first act Christine leaned over to me and whispered,
"I can not believe it! They haven't changed a thing in this whole production! I remember when I was in it years ago…even the choreography is exactly the same!"
It all looked good to me because I had never seen it before, but all over the opera house the audience was thinking the same thing. It was good, but nothing to write home about.
Soon I found myself thinking more about where Erik was than what was happening on the stage. Tonight I was going to see him. Tonight I was going to see the fiancé I had last spoken to in New York City on the top of a building. Where I had called him crazy and ran from him, I thought ashamed of myself. The more I thought about him the more anxious I became. My leg started to jiggle up and down uncontrollably and I began to search the shadows for the form of my fiancé.
Beside me Christine was doing the same. Completely bored with the opera, Christine was torn between hoping she would see her husband and dreading to see the man I claimed to be engaged to. Could it be true she thought? Was anything I told her the truth? At first I had been Adriana…now I was Olivia? First I was engaged to Erik and then to Monsieur Pitt and then to Erik again. She shook her head. All she wanted was her husband.
The truth was that even though she still loved him very much and wanted him back, she had been extremely hurt when he had left her. To know he didn't trust her or approve of her…she wondered if she could really still look at him the same.
Erik was bored with the opera as well. It was so damn unoriginal, he thought. Still a kind of electricity was flowing through him. He knew that behind him, in his old box, I was waiting for him.
Raoul was still pacing nervously backstage. Occasionally he looked up to see that the Persian was watching him, making sure he didn't back out and try to run for it. A part of him was screaming at him to get the hell out of there; this whole plan would be extremely detrimental to his reputation. But another part of him understood that it was something he should do, for himself and for his wife. Christine; a part of his heart felt pained when he thought of the way he left her.
All and all it was the end of the play we were all waiting for, if not for different reasons. It seemed like it could not come soon enough. Finally the opera was over. The glorious singers and fabulous dancers all came out and took a bow. Christine and I clapped especially hard for Meg. I even whistled, earning myself a stern look from the elderly couple in the box behind us.
It seemed like it was all over and now we would all be going to the sort of after party in the main foyer. However, a man walked onto the stage and called everyone back to attention.
Beside me Christine screamed. "That's Raoul!" she could hardly breathe and she covered her mouth with her hands.
"Ladies and gentlemen if I could have your attention for a few more moments!" Raoul called out and a hush came over the audience. He swallowed nervously; this was the last thing he ever thought he would be doing.
"I am out here because I have…" He lost his voice as he stared into the bright lights. He couldn't do this! And the glaring stage lights, the people watching him…this was much grander than he had even given it credit for. Awestruck from the other side of the stage, Raoul began to wonder…
"You have been an idiot!" Erik barked loudly from the pit. He could see the dazzled look creep into Raoul's eyes and he knew what was happening. Raoul was forgetting what he told him to say and he had to remind him.
Erik's comment sent a ripple of laughter through the crowd. In our box Christine and I both leaned forward. That voice had sounded awfully familiar.
Raoul snapped back to life and realized he was just standing out on stage like a…well like an idiot.
"Yes, I have been an idiot; thank you for reminding me Monsieur Pitt!" Raoul raised his voice and took a few steps forward on the stage, "A big round of applause for Monsieur Pitt and the pit!"
Everyone clapped and I sat on the edge of my seat. So that was where Erik was…
"For those of you who do not know my name I am Raoul de Chagny. And for those of you who don't know my wife…congratulations," At this Erik signaled to the who beat out the 'ba boom boom crash' rhythm the strange new conductor had taught him earlier.
The crowed laughed again. I turned to look at Christine and I saw she was more confused than amused.
"No I do not mean that," Raoul corrected himself, "The truth is I love my wife, and that is why I am here tonight," His voice became more serious and everyone listened.
"Christine, darling," He looked right up at her and their gazes locked, "I have hurt you and I do not deserve your forgiveness but I am asking for it anyway. I love you and I have dearly missed you,"
Christine's eyes started to water. That he would get up on stage, in front of all of Paris and apologize to her…she knew that that was the man she married, not the man who left her.
"And to show you how I really feel," Suddenly music started to play; a strange tune that sounded nothing like opera, "I have a little song for you,"
Everyone began to laugh as Raoul did some sort of absurd little dance move. Christine's eyes were wide and she was speechless. I shrieked with laughter as I recognized what song this was and who had to be behind it.
"Imagine me and you, I do, how I think about you day and night its only right to think about the girl you love and hold her tight so happy together," Raoul sang, though it was clear to everyone he was not at all confident and struggling to do the song. The whole audience thought it was extremely amusing and was laughing and clapping along with the weird music.
I thought it was amazing! It was 1882 and I was listening to a rendition of a Beatles song!
"I can't see me lovin' nobody but you for all my life! When you're with me baby the skies will be blue for all my life!" Raoul had felt foolish, and then he had felt scared, but then it came to him. Blinded by the light he finally saw the truth. He understood why Christine would be so caught up in this world of operas and ballets. Being out there on the stage, feeling the energy of every single person; each with their own life stories, all with their own problems and triumphs who would never even know each other all joining together for just a moment and reacting to something he was doing.
This was the stage, he thought. And it was amazing.
"Me and you, and you and me, no matter how they toss the dice it had to be… the only one for me is you, and you for me so happy together!" Raoul gained a bit of confidence and some of the people off stage began to join in with him as Monsieur Pitt had told them to do once they got the feel of the song. They were all happy to do it; happy to be given something to sing that had not already been done a thousand times.
Erik did not think this all could have gone better. True, Raoul was not the best singer in the world and he was lacking confidence, but that almost made it better. The audience thought it was hilarious.
He had never admitted to anyone that he thought his plan was anything but fool proof but he had always known a million things could go wrong. If Raoul was horrible or if the orchestra refused to cooperate...the orchestra had been a big concern. He had known that it would be extremely difficult for them to learn not only a new song but also a new style in an afternoon. However after being handed un stimulating piece after un stimulating piece they were happy to be given something else.
Most of them were sharing music with their neighbor because Erik had only made so many copies by hand and they were not completely in sync, but they had the right rhythm down, and Erik was a superb conductor.
Beside me I turned to see Christine suddenly bolt from her seat and run.
"Where are you going!" I called to her but she was gone.
Christine ran, pushing roughly past everyone in her way. She headed for the backstage entrance and then attempted to push through all the people but her way was blocked.
"Christine!" She heard her voice being called.
"Meg!" Christine yelled frantically to her friend as she came to her. Meg grabbed Christine by the hand, dragging her through the throng of people backstage; pushing and yelling at people to let her through.
When people realized who she was they let Christine and Meg pass easily and they made it to the stage.
I watched from my box as Christine ran out to join her husband on stage.
Erik looked up from the pit and laughed; his plan had worked better than even he had imagined.
"I can't see me lovin' no body but you! For all my life!" The happy couple was reunited.
The song ended and immediately my thoughts were of trying to find Erik. However, I did not know my way around this place the way Christine did and she was gone. Leave it to me to be able to navigate the Manhattan grid but not an opera house.
I headed back the way I had come. I felt like I was jumping out of my skin…I was so close to Erik! But where was he?
I was caught up in the crowd of people heading back out to the foyer for the gala. All of them were jostling happily to their destination. It was amazing the effect that a little music and a little change could have on people.
I made it out to the foyer. I stood by the rail of the grand staircase. It gave me a bird's eye view of the whole place; if Erik was in here then I would spot him.
And then…there he was. Standing about half way up the stairs was my fiancé. Though all of Paris was swarming around me I felt like the noisy room was suddenly silent and my heart seemed to have stopped beating. Slowly, because I felt if I tried to go any faster I would fall down, I walked toward him.
It was unbelievable that he was standing there. The man I had missed so much was only feet away from me.
I accidentally got everyone's attention. On my way towards Erik I was in such a trance that I didn't even notice when I knocked over the Countess Dubois of Lyon. She made a fuss and so did her husband and the rest of her party. When I made no sign of even realizing she was there the Countess followed my gaze to the man on the stairs.
"Oh!" And with that a ripple traveled through the crowd of people and they began to stop and watch. Everywhere there were whispers; that's the socialite from New York! Monsieur Pitt, the conductor…
None of this registered with me. I only saw Erik.
Erik watched me come toward him. This had to be a dream, he thought, because it was too good to be true. There I was; everything he had worked for, everything he had ever wanted was going to be his.
The ripple reached the bottom of the stairs. Meg was the first to hear the whispers. She was standing, her arms around her new admirer Philippe de Winter, when she turned around to watch. Taking Philippe by the hand she pulled him over to Christine.
Christine had been occupied with her reunion to Raoul, but suddenly she felt a tap on her shoulder.
"Look!" Meg whispered and she gestured with her head toward the stairs.
Christine's head turned, "Oh my!" she gasped as she and Raoul watched the red figure approach the black one.
My mind rushed back to me all at once and I realized I was prolonging my own pain. I ran the rest of the way into Erik's arms. My eyes were filled with tears and I flung my arms around his neck. I felt him fold me in his embrace and rest his head on my shoulder.
I wanted to do so many things at once. I wanted to kiss him all over. I wanted to apologize for not believing him. I wanted to tell him I loved him. Never in my life had I felt so happy all at once. Erik was mine at last. The man I had missed so much over the past week as I had been trying to understand my new situation. And now I had him. It was so sublimely wonderful to know that it was the pressure of Erik's arms that I felt against my body and it was Erik's heart I heard beating as my head rested against his chest.
We drew back slightly to look at each other at the same moment. My eyes met his and I saw his were as blurry as mine were, "Erik I'm so sorry," I stammered,
Erik's brow furrowed and when he blinked at me in confusion; a single tear escaped from one of his glowing eyes. Erik tried not to cry but it seemed it would not be helped. For once, he had not failed. He had conquered every obstacle in his path and his plan had worked. He knew he held in his arms a woman who loved him, something he had never thought he would have.
Even after we had become engaged he had doubted that he would keep me. He kept thinking that when I knew the truth I would leave him, or that one day he would wake up and I would laugh at him and tell him it was all a joke.
But now he knew none of that was true. He had me forever and I loved him.
"Olivia…" he whispered and he just shook his head.
At long last Erik tilted my head up toward him and tenderly pressed his lips down on mine. It was glorious, the greatest reward after a week of suffering without him. Erik had never known a kiss could feel so good. His heart swelled and he suddenly felt like we might both explode. I pressed myself closer to him and without warning, I felt myself taken right off my Manolo's and spun around in the air. All the while our lips only parted for the briefest of moments.
After spinning me around like the giddy little boy he was, Erik put me down. He wrapped his gorgeous hands around both of my arms which he pinned to my sides. He kissed my forehead and then my lips again.
We were both smiling at each other now; well smiling and crying.
I guess that is just the way it goes sometimes. You get caught up in your day to day life and you stop believing; in love at first sight, in fairytales, in change and new ideas and in that little voice in your heart that tells you to stop and do something wild…to turn around and face the current and find what you really want.
And sometimes something has to happen; something stunning and unreal. Something beyond comprehension that shakes you to the core. It will leave you shocked; as I was to find out about Erik, as Raoul was to find out about Erik, himself and his wife…as Christine was to find out about Raoul…and as Erik was to find out about my love for him.
And in the end, it will leave you in awe. In awe that the lives we lead can crash together so suddenly and so strangely…and yet so perfectly. In the end, it remains up to shock and awe to remind us of what we want.
AN: This is not the end! There is still more and Sex and the City the second season is in the works in my crazy head…kudos to you Andrea for knowing that Mr. Big in the pervious chapter was from the show! And to anyone else who recognized it!
Also if anyone was wondering what Olivia meant when she said, "Who's on first?" first of all shame on you! And second of all it is from a really funny Abbott and Costello routine…google it and read it! hehehe!