((I'm terribly sorry. Seriously, I have had over 20 people tell me the exact same thing; "you said you would update soon! Like, as soon as you could! And BTW 5 months is NOT soon!"
Too bloody bad. I'll let you guys ALL know that writing, to me, is a pastime. I'm not intending to become a famous author. If I were planning on that, I would spend every waking moment I have writing. But, I'm not. Writing my stories is something I do when I find enough time, when I feel like it, and when I have a good idea that I would like to put down. In the past 5 months, I have been too busy and not in the mood to write.
I truly do hope that you all understand. And I understand that many of you are pissed off at me. Hell, if I were you I would just STOP READING anything I put out, cause I would know that the next update would be a long way away.
I understand that I have slow updates. If you truly appreciate my work (which I really do enjoy, I love hearing back from you guys all the time) then you will understand this. I will do my best to make regular updates, but I defiantly cannot keep many promises.))
A/N: Next chapter of TVS, as I like to call it! Hope you enjoy.
I own nothing from Phantom of the Opera.
Courtney
Chapter 3Meg and Sorelli greeted Christine in the ladies room as cheerfully as possible. They appeared beside her as she was rearranging her hair and smoothing her clothes. Meg gave Christine a pity filled look, but Christine glared back.
"I don't need your pity Meg…I swear, it's just a flu."
"Maybe you should go home if it's a flu! You don't want to infect the entire office. You can do work in your own apartment. I sure as hell don't want anything that you've got."
Christine stared at Meg after this outburst. She glanced towards Sorelli, who was trying desperately to not get involved in the argument. Finally, she turned back towards Meg.
"What is your problem? If you don't want me here, then I'll leave. Hell, if you wanted me to, I'll just quit! Wouldn't that make you happy?" Having been sick several times that morning, Christine was not in the mood to argue. She felt that Meg was not being completely fair; she wasn't the one leaning over a toilet bowl.
"No." Meg said quietly. "Just go home. I'll give you a ring later tonight."
"Fine. I'll talk to you later, then. See you later Sorelli."
Christine marched out of the washroom and went back to her desk. She gathered up her belongings and went straight to Firmin's office. Knocking loudly, she waited until her boss appeared.
"Christine? What's the matter?"
"I'm going home, Richard. I'm not feeling well. I'll phone you tomorrow to let you know how I'm doing."
"Well, okay. Just make sure you finish the Denver House assignment by the due date."
"Yes, I will," Christine said, flashing him a smile.
Turning around, she walked onto the street. She glanced towards Meg's car in the parking lot. The engine was still cooling off and the sides reflected the scene of people walking. The bends in the car's sides made the reflections seem small and awkward. The stores across the street showed the newest fashions of autumn. Expensive fur coats and designer jeans stared back at Christine from behind glass. Window shoppers on the streets stared longingly at them, just as Christine was.
She gave herself a small laugh. She was twenty-two years old, and she felt like running to her mother and begging for the coat, as if she was 13 still and had seen a graphic t-shirt that she had fallen in love with.
My mother is dead. I can't do that, she thought bitterly.
The next bus that would take her anywhere near her flat would be arriving in 45 minutes. Christine wasn't about to wait for it; most of the summer warmth had left the air, and it was slowly being replaced by the chills of late September. Eventually, she decided that walking back home would at least keep her warmer and save her some money.
Plus, it would be mighty embarrassing to be sick again in public.
Christine started the half hour walk back to her home. At first she just looked lazily at shop displays and the people passing by her. She always wondered what other people's lives were like. Did they have a perfect life, with a family and a good job? Or did they have to hide their real feelings under a carefully constructed mask? In public did they appear to be happy, but when they were alone late at night, did they cry until their bodies could not cry anymore?
It was hard to tell, she found. Sometimes she wished that she could get inside of other people's heads, just to see what they were thinking. Other times, she found the idea appalling. It was really a very confusing world.
She stopped walking and waiting with a small group of other people waiting for the small white light to flash on, telling them that it was safe to walk across the busy street.
She studied the other people's faces. There was a businessman in a suit, and a woman with a sleeping toddler cradled in her arms. Another woman was listening to music and was jogging on the spot. Her hair was tied back in a lazy bun and her face bore no makeup and a light sheen of sweat.
Once the traffic stopped and the walk signal appeared, the group Christine had been standing with separated. The woman jogging sprinted ahead, leaving the rest of them far behind. The man in the suit walked quickly, glancing at his watch.
Christine walked along the same street for a few more minutes. A particularly attractive display in a jewellers store caught her attention. She stopped her walk and peered into the window, admiring an engagement ring surrounded by lilies.
Obviously her bottom must have been sticking out a bit too much, because someone had just ran right into it. Christine straightened like Cleopatra's needle and turned around. A man that was a year or so older than her and several inches taller than her was looking at her wide eyed. His face had gone bright red.
He held up his hands in front of him. "I'm terribly sorry, miss! I truly didn't mean to. It was purely by accident!"
Christine laughed at his reaction. "It's quite alright, sir. No harm done, I believe."
The man breathed a sigh of relief. He ran his hand through his blonde hair and extended the other to Christine.
"Raoul de Chagny, miss. And you are?"
Fighting the urge to laugh at his polite introduction, she shook his hand properly.
"Christine Daae," she said as formally as possible. Raoul laughed.
"You needn't mock me, miss Daae."
"Who said I was mocking you?" she answered. His dark blue eyes twinkled. Christine smiled back.
A silence settled comfortably between them. Needing something to say or do, she glanced at her watch and smiled up at him.
"Well, Mister Raoul de Chagny, it was a pleasure meeting you, but I must be going."
Raoul extended a business card to her. Christine took it and tucked it away into her purse.
"Call me sometime. We could go to the pub and talk over a daiquiri or some other form of alcohol. I will see you later, miss Daae."
Before Christine could say goodbye, he was off, weaving his way through the pedestrians on the sidewalk. He turned a corner and he was gone. Christine smiled to herself and walked the rest of the way home.
To Christine's great surprise, Andre was either out or in his back office. She wouldn't need to worry about him pestering her about rent or anything else. Quickly she retrieved her mail and stepped into the waiting elevator. She pressed the small button with the fading 7 on it, and hummed idly to the too cheerful elevator music. When it got to the seventh floor, she walked out and opened her door. Sunlight streaming in through her window and the faded sounds of cars greeted her.
Her bed was still unmade, so she decided to clean it. Since she was at home anyways, she threw off her heels and put on a pair of sweats in place of her skirt. She let her hair down from its restraint, and it sighed in relief.
Eventually, after making tea and finishing cleaning her bedroom, she sat down by her computer. The Denver House assignment was a terribly boring project. She was instructed to create costumes to fit children of the ages of five and six, and they had to resemble something to do with autumn. It was practically the most boring project on the bulletin board, but it was the easiest, and it had to get done.
Sighing in dread, she began on the project with the cheerful sounds of The Beatles playing from her stereo in the background and the cool air from outside blowing in through her now opened window.