Author's Note- I know this is overdue- I have been rather stressed due to band, but it is over now. sigh of relief Because of that stress, I couldn't get this chappy out. But, here it is! Well, here be the replies! YAY! I look forward to reading reviews everyday when I get home! reads reviews
WanderingChild24- I think Christine is both afraid and jealous, lol. Good for me, bad for her… And I like happy-hyperness…needs sugar Thanks for reviewing
Rinny Leonhart Rikku- Thanks for reviewing, here is more!
ErikandChristine- Thankers for the compliment…chocolate is good…Jen like chocolate…and Erik like chocolate grabs bag of chocolate covered-cashews from Erik Those are mine!
Erik- no they aren't!
Jen- grrr….attacks
Tallacus- hehe, of course it was! Jen ish smart…she knows how to trick Erik into some things. And, it IS great to be authoress .
Chapter 13
Boredom and Annoyances
Click. Jen blinked and imagined she was hitting the rewind button on a remote control. Click again. The movie started again, and she smiled. Erik watched her from the other side of the room where he was working on his Don Juan Triumphant. "Jen, are you alright?"
"Shhhhh….it's starting. Don't talk." The percussionist hissed, eyes focused on the ceiling. Erik shrugged. If she wasn't going to tell him what she was doing, fine by him. Jen just continued to sit and stare at nothing, eyes fixed on an invisible object. Erik tried to ignore her, but found that he couldn't. With a grumble he gave up working on his music, and found some paper and charcoal. Perhaps drawing something would take his mind off her. The Phantom began to sketch out the outlines of a person's face, and smiled as he thought of Christine. He continued adding facial features, shading and highlighting, trying to make the image a perfect likeness. After nearly and hour and a half of sketching and shading, the Phantom admired his work. Only, it wasn't a portrait of Christine- it resembled Jen. 'Odd.' He thought. She found ways to annoy him even he didn't understand. Erik sighed and looked at the percussionist. She was still sitting there, watching, almost crying it seemed. "Jen?" he asked. No reply.
"HI!" Another familiar voice yelled, and Erik turned to see Gabby standing at the side of the lake, smiling. "Good morning mademoiselle." Erik said smiling. "Is she alright?"
"Well…I don't know…" Gabby replied. "Define all right."
"Does she do…that…often?" Erik asked, giving the cellist a questioning look. "Well…sometimes if she is really, really bored."
"I see. And, how do you get her out of this state?" Erik asked, now looking at the percussionist again. "I don't know. Lemme try this…" Gabby grinned and sat down next to Jen. "So…what's happening so far?"
"Poor Fari…" Jen muttered. "Evil Denethor…we hates him…" Gabby grinned. "Yeah…poor Faramir. It isn't his fault." She turned and smiled at Erik. The Phantom just watched, confused. Suddenly, Gabby started singing. "Final Fantasy is an RPG! The only one for me, it's the RPG I need!" Jen bolted up, snapping out of her condition, and grinned, joining in their rendition of the chocobo theme. Erik listened, half afraid at the sudden change. These girls were unstable, perhaps insane, he thought. They finished the song, and Jen stood up. "Wheeee….that was fun…"
Erik smiled, seeing that things were back to normal, and returned to composing. Jen heard what she recognized to be Past the Point of No Return. She hummed along. "It needs words…" Erik muttered, then stopped playing. Jen grinned to Gabby, who did the same in reply. "Past the point of no return…" Jen began. "No backwards glances. Our games of make believe are at an end." Erik turned and looked. "Where did you come up with that?"
"Would you believe that I have heard it before? From the future, of course…" He gave her another one of those blank looks she was used to receiving. "Er…I take that as a 'no'. How about I just say I am a musical genius like yourself, and we leave it at that." Another blank look. Jen smiled as he did the same. "I doubt that you are a musical genius, but perhaps you and Gabby would like to help me with your…knowledge…of my opera?"
"No problems with that…" Jen said, taking a seat on the bench beside him. Gabby walked over and stood behind them. "Now, please give me the words to the song."
XxXxXxXxX
Erik had been gone most of the day, so Jen and Gabby were bored, sitting around the lair, as there had been nothing to do up above. "We could…er…I don't know…" Gabby said. Jen sighed. "No ideas here either…" she looked around the room, looking for something, anything, to do. Her eyes rested on Erik's black cape, and she smiled. She also saw one of his masks laying on the end of his organ, left there carelessly. The percussionist stood and retrieved the items, putting them on, then grinned and ran across the lair, cape flying out behind her. "Whooooosh! I am the Phantom of the Opera!" Gabby startled laughing, then began singing Think of Me. Jen listened, and pretended to be Erik. Gabby finished, and Jen began singing The Mirror, and when they finished, they both laughed. Acting out nearly the whole movie (the Erik and Christine parts), they had just gotten to the cemetery scene when Erik's voice called to them. He entered, and saw Jen with his mask and cape, raised an eyebrow, then glared. "What are you doing?"
"Er…pretending to be you?" Jen replied with a nervous smile. Erik glowered. "Why?"
"Er…we were bored…" Gabby replied. "So, how was your day Erik?" she asked, switching the subject. "It was alright. I bought the supplies you asked for the Bal Masque."
"YAY!" both girls shouted together. Erik smiled, holding out the fabric. "Well, we should probably get started on these- the party is only a month and a half away." Jen said, looking at the black fabric for her and Gabby's costumes. She noticed the red material as well, and glanced at Erik knowingly. "Well, let's begin." Gabby said, pulling out the sewing supplied Erik provided. The two sat down and began to work on their costumes.
Author's Note- kinda short, yes, but tis fluff…the interesting stuff comes soon. Until then, enjoy, and review.
