The Girl Next Door
Christine looked around her new office and smiled happily. No more cubicles for her. She got a proper office. With windows and a door and everything.
She sat behind her desk, admiring her newly unpacked things. There was a knock at the door and she called, feeling rather proud, "Come in!"
Sorelli and Meg poked their heads around the door.
"Wow!"
"This is so unfair!" Christine grinned at them.
"Isn't it amazing?"
"I've got to get a promotion. C'mon, Christine, share the secret. What did you do to get Firmin to promote you?" Sorelli asked.
"She didn't spend all her time gossiping and running around other people's offices, like you two." Firmin said, appearing in the doorway. "Get back to work."
"See you later, Christine." They disappeared and Firmin smiled at Christine, settling into the chair opposite her desk.
"Do you like it?"
"It's brilliant. I don't think I'm ever going to be able to repay you for this." Christine said.
"Do a good job. That's all I ask of you." Firmin said solemnly. "For the moment I'm not going to give you a project, since you'll be editing and authorising the rest of the department. But I've already assured the Hawthorn Theatre that you'll be available for them."
"No problem. I'm ready for this." Christine said firmly.
"I am not ready for this." Christine said firmly. Erik's mouth quirked into a smile.
"Then we should begin quickly so you don't back out entirely."
She groaned and moved inside his apartment. He closed the door and led her to the piano.
"A warm up first, and then I've chosen a song for you to do."
"Lovely."
"I'm glad you're so enthusiastic about this." Erik said cynically.
"I'm not really enthusiastic about being your pet project."
"Don't be ridiculous. I'm doing you a favour."
"So you say." Christine muttered.
She stood in the curve of the piano and sang the warm up. More out of curiosity than anything, Erik began to press higher notes, wanting to see exactly how high her voice could go. She stopped eventually.
"I can't do that. Not anymore. I used to be able to."
"We'll get you there." He said confidently, handing her the sheet music. She examined it briefly.
"I don't know this song." She said instantly.
"Yes, you do."
"Erik, I know when I don't know a song and I don't know this song." Christine said stubbornly. Erik looked at her flatly over the top of the music.
"It's Tonight. Now stop being so awkward. You're not getting out of this."
Christine pouted and Erik played the beginning of the song. Christine began to sing but Erik stopped her almost immediately.
"Don't you remember what I told you about breathing?"
"Do it?"
"Christine…"
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Couldn't resist." She took a deep breath. "Try again, I'll do it properly."
Erik played right to the end of the song. To her credit, Christine really did seem to be trying her best. But there was something not quite right.
"Do you not like this song?" He asked.
"Not really. It's a bit…" She wrinkled her nose. Erik considered her closely.
"Very well. I'll find something else for next time."
"There's a next time?"
"Yes. Tomorrow, same time." Erik said, putting the music away. Christine nodded and looked at her watch.
"OK. I'll bring us something to eat tomorrow though, I'm starving."
"You needn't-"
"You're giving me free lessons. This is my way of saying thank you. Goodnight Erik."
On her return to Erik's apartment the next day, Christine was surprised to hear him on the phone. He just didn't seem to be the sort of person who would stay on the telephone for longer than was absolutely necessary. The door was left open and she entered. Erik nodded to her, continuing his conversation.
"I don't give a damn, Nadir. She is in a contract and she will be singing. Remind her of that and threaten to call the legal department. Just make sure that she's at the rehearsal tomorrow." He hung up.
"Everything alright?" Christine asked.
"Eleanor is being unnecessarily dramatic. She plays the countess." Erik said, moving to the piano and sitting down. "She seems to think that she is the only actress in the whole damn theatre."
"A Prima Donna?"
"Exactly." Erik said. He pulled out a new piece of music and pushed it towards her. "Warm up and we'll start on this."
Christine read the music.
"Erik, I really don't know this one."
"I know. I wrote it some time ago and edited it last night." Erik said. "It should suit your current level of ability before we move on to more challenging pieces."
The piece was called The Angel of Music.
"How did you come up with a title like that?" Christine asked curiously. Erik looked at her.
"I suggest you glance through the book I gave you for Christmas. There is a particular poem in there that inspired me."
"I loathe cryptic answers."
"Which is probably why I delight in giving them to you. Try the first three bars."
"That's a pretty tune." She said dreamily, wrapping her arms about Erik's shoulders as he played. He glanced up at her.
"You like it?"
"Yes, what is it?"
"A new piece. The Angel of Music."
"How very like you, Erik." She commented, sitting down with her back to the piano so she was looking into his face.
Erik smiled gently at her.
"I am no Angel."
"You're not a conventional Angel. You're far more special than that." She said firmly. "You're my Angel."
"You require an Angel?"
"No. But you're already mine."
Christine opened the book of Blake poetry and read the content list, trying to figure out which poem Erik had been referring to. After a moment her eyes fell upon a title.
The Angel
She quickly found the page and read the poem, twice since she had rushed it the first time. She could see at once what Erik had liked about the poem. It was a sad yet cynical piece, the loss of innocence combined with unfulfilled love.
And I wept both night and day,
And he wiped my tears away,
And I wept both day and night,
And hid from him my heart's delight.
Christine murmured the words aloud before closing the book, wondering exactly who it was who had hidden from Erik Destler.
Christine examined the mock-up poster that Jammes had given to her. It was for a new novel and she'd done a pretty good job. The young woman watched her rather nervously. Christine smiled.
"This is good."
"You think so? I was really nervous about showing you!"
"Don't be silly, I'm not here to make you feel bad." Christine smiled. She took a pencil and lightly marked the paper. "But, I think you should move this text down here. It's all a bit crowded near the top. And try making the font a size smaller. Go for the understated look."
They spent a good twenty minutes discussing the poster until both were satisfied. As Jammes went to make the changes, she glanced back at Christine with a quick smile.
"Thank you."
"You're welcome." Christine smiled back, warmth glowing inside of her. Jammes closed the door and Christine let out a giggle of excitement. Grinning at her own silliness, she turned to the computer screen, determined to get some work done.
At lunch time, Meg came in.
"Hey, Christine. A group of us are heading to the pub for lunch, you coming?"
"No, I've got a couple of things to do."
"Do them later. Come on, we haven't seen you all week." Meg pointed out. It was Friday and Christine had to admit that she had barely left her office at all.
"Give me two minutes to get my things." She said, saving her work.
Hey Chrissie. I'm trapped in a meeting, but I'll pick you up at seven thirty, it starts at eight. See you then. Love you!
Christine glanced at her watch. It was already a quarter past five. She sighed and went straight to the bathroom for a shower. Shampoo, condition, cleaning her face. She pulled on a towel and went to the wardrobe, cursing herself for not deciding on an outfit sooner.
After fifteen minutes, she still hadn't decided. Christine hovered for a moment, trying to figure out what to do. She reached for the phone and called Meg. But, as usual, she was out. Christine muttered under her breath about inconsiderate people who were never home when you needed them.
Then it struck her and she dialled a different number.
Erik reached for the ringing phone.
"Erik Destler speaking."
"Erik, I need your help."
"Christine?" He said, somewhat confused. "What's wrong?"
"Don't laugh."
"I'm not laughing." Erik said.
"Promise not to?" She said sternly. Erik rubbed his eyes in bewilderment.
"Fine, I promise. What's going on?"
"I'm going to that work-party of Stuart's tonight and I need a second opinion on my outfit."
Erik blinked. Christine carried on.
"My door is unlocked and there are two dresses on the bedroom door. Can you tell me which one you prefer? If you're not too busy?"
"No… no, I'll be right over." Erik said, highly amused by the whole incident. He sometimes forgot that Christine, among other things, was also a woman.
He crossed to her apartment and, sure enough, saw the two dresses hanging on the bedroom door. One was black velvet with red lace over the top and the other was a sheath of ivory coloured material. Erik looked from one to the other. He was usually drawn to darker colours himself, but had always appreciated beauty. And he knew that the lighter dress was the right one.
"The ivory one." He called. Instantly a hand appeared around the edge of the door and seized the pale dress, tugging it into the room beyond.
"Thanks Erik! There's coffee in the kitchen, help yourself. I'll be right out." She called.
Erik poured himself coffee and returned to the living room. But apparently when Christine had said 'I'll be right out' what she had actually meant was 'I'm going to be a while, make yourself comfy'.
Christine was, in fact, trying to make herself look presentable as someone who would be attending a formal event. She rarely had the opportunity to look so dressed up and had underestimated how much time it would actually take her. Once the dress was on, she realised that she hadn't picked out shoes. When she'd done this, she realised that her hair was drying into a state that can only be described as that of a mad scientist. Once she had managed to calm it down and style it, she remembered that she had to put on her make up.
A layer of foundation, some eye shadow, mascara and lipstick. Damn, jewellery! Christine groaned and reached for the box. The charm bracelet seemed too informal, so she swapped it for a silver chain. A diamond pendant around her neck, some earrings and Christine looked in the mirror.
Not bad, she thought. She traced the faint scar on her right cheek. She had hoped that the foundation would have disguised it, but no such luck. Christine wasn't, as a rule, particularly vain but she still hated the scar. She cast the thought aside and left the bedroom.
Erik had, by this time, moved to the piano, where he was playing a song that Christine didn't know. He looked up as she came out and for a moment she was positive that his eyes widened.
She hadn't been mistaken. Erik had never seen this side of her. The thought occurred to him again – Christine was a woman. And that point was becoming very obvious to him now. He knew instantly that he had chosen the right dress. The beautiful dress made her skin seem even paler than usual, almost ethereally so. In complete contrast, her chocolate curls became darker still, tumbling around her face, her eyes gleaming against the creamy skin. Her lips were pale pink, the only true colour in her face. Erik's eyes rested briefly on the scar on her cheek.
But even that was beautiful. It added an unusualness to her, making her a cut above the average woman dressed up to go to a party.
"Sorry I took so long." She said, apparently not noticing that he hadn't yet spoken. "I didn't realise how much I had to do."
"If it helps, it has certainly paid off. You look radiant." Erik offered. Christine smiled at him.
"That does help, actually. I've got a bag somewhere…" She went to a drawer and opened it, searching around inside for the elusive bag. "Here it is. God, is that the time already?"
As if to prove that it certainly was that time already, the buzzer went. Christine let Stuart in and then turned to Erik.
"So… it looks OK?"
"It's perfect." He assured her. Christine smiled in relief.
"Good. I'm actually nervous. It's so ridiculous."
"Nonsense. You'll be fine." Erik promised.
There was a knock at the door and Stuart came in. His eyes fell upon Christine and he let out a long whistle.
"Now that is a sight for sore eyes."
"Hi Stuart." Christine smiled. He grinned at her and then noticed Erik.
"Hey, you're Chrissie's neighbour, aren't you?"
Chrissie? The thought crossed Erik's mind without meaning to.
"I am."
"Erik was helping me decide on what to wear."
"Then I'll have to offer my thanks. You look gorgeous." Stuart said earnestly. Christine felt herself flushing.
"OK, you both have to stop with the compliments or I'll end up looking like a tomato."
"But a very attractive tomato nonetheless." Erik said. Christine laughed and he said, "I shall be on my way. Enjoy your evening."
"Thanks again, Erik. I owe you." Christine smiled again and Erik nodded, crossing the hallway to his apartment.
Once the door was safely closed and he was within the privacy of his home, Erik allowed himself a deep sigh.
For the very briefest moment, he had looked at Christine in a way he should not have done. He had wanted what he could not have.
He had wanted her. He had wanted Christine in a way that was not platonic. Far from it in fact.
But, Erik rationalised, surely it would have been odd not to have felt that way. Christine Daae was an extremely attractive woman. In fact, it was rather comforting to know that he was still able to feel such a basic human emotion as lust.
That didn't completely dispel the fact that he rather wished that it was his arm that Christine would be on that night. Upon realising this, Erik reached for a drink.
Christine hated to admit it, but she was rather enjoying the party. Several people had complimented her on her dress, Stuart beaming the whole time. His boss had even struck up a conversation with them.
"Stuart, good to see you. And who is this delightful young lady?"
"Mr Swanson, this is my girlfriend, Christine Daae." Stuart said proudly. Swanson shook her hand enthusiastically.
"A pleasure, Miss Daae. Ah, here's my own wife!"
A pleasant looking woman joined them and a conversation began.
"How long have you and Stuart been together?" Mrs Swanson asked. Christine considered in her mind.
"It must be nearly three months now." She said and Stuart nodded in agreement.
"Yes, that's about right."
"How lovely!" Mrs Swanson said with a gentle smile.
"Come dear, we must get socialising." Swanson said. The pair moved off and Stuart hugged Christine.
"You are amazing."
"And you are easily impressed." Christine laughed.
The evening passed by in a mixture of music and wine and laughter and dancing. When Stuart took her home, Christine was still smiling.
"That was fun."
"I'm glad you enjoyed it." Stuart grinned. He had already pulled off his stifling tie and Christine was rubbing at her bare feet as they pulled up outside Gaston Place. Stuart came around the side of the car and lifted Christine out of the car, her shoes dangling from hand. Christine laughed as he carried up the front steps, bending so she could put in the security code.
"You need to eat more, Chrissie, you hardly weight anything. I'll have to get Mum to feed you up a bit." He teased.
Stuart carried her all the way to the door of her apartment, into the apartment itself before finally putting her down on the sofa.
"There you are, your highness."
"I suppose that makes you a knight in shining armour?" She smiled. Stuart laughed.
"No armour, thanks. But if you've got any dragon problems, I'll be sure to slay them for you."
"My hero." She mocked. Stuart pulled her into a kiss. She put her arms around him and he said quietly,
"Does this mean that we get to live Happily Ever After?"
Christine looked at him, her heart sinking as she tried to figure out what he was saying.
"Stuart…"
"Don't look so scared. I'm not proposing or anything. I'm not going to demand anything from you. I just want to let you know that I love you and I'm always going to be here, for as long as you need me." He said, running his hands down her arms to clasp her hands. She looked at him sadly.
"I…"
Christine closed her eyes for a moment and then buried her face in his shoulder.
"I need you, Stuart. I do need you." She whispered. Stuart held her tightly, but his heart had tightened painfully.
"I'd better get going, it's late." He said after a few moments. Christine nodded mutely, wondering exactly what had happened to make their happiness fade into this painful awkwardness. She watched him walk down the hallway and saw the despondent look on his face as the elevator doors closed.
She buried her face in her hands, willing herself not to cry. But she couldn't stop the tears and she stood for a few moments, letting them fall.
"Christine?"
She looked up sharply and saw Erik stood in the doorway opposite, watching her with concern. She swallowed hard and forced a smile onto her face.
"Did I disturb you?"
"No, I was still awake." He said. Christine nodded mutely, biting down on her lip to prevent it wobbling. Erik frowned and awkwardly stepped forward, unsure of what to do. Christine shook her head, not to say no but as a simple gesture of helplessness.
"Why can't I love him, Erik?" She cried suddenly, pain and anguish filling every syllable. "Why can't I love him!"
"Because he's not the person you're meant to be with."
The words had slipped from his mouth before he could stop them and he cursed them immediately. Christine's dark eyes instantly went to his emerald ones. Erik didn't know how to react. Luckily he didn't have to.
"Goodnight Erik." She said in a quiet but firm voice. She turned and closed the door behind her. Erik closed his own door and pressed his forehead against the wood, damning himself for being so idiotic.
What had made him say that? He knew how it had sounded. He knew why Christine had reacted like that. But he didn't know why he'd said it. He barely knew Christine Daae, he was perfectly aware of the fact. And he most certainly did not feel for her in a romantic way.
One too many drinks, combined with the yearning he had felt earlier on, he decided. He only hoped that it was not too late to repair the damage already done to their friendship.
A/N: I hate hate HATE stories where Erik sees Christine in a fancy dress and suddenly realises 'OMG, so sexy, luff her.' So please don't think that it's going to head that way straight off, OK?
The Angel by Blake is a beautiful poem. I read it a while ago and really wanted to get it in somehow. That's why I brought the book in on the Christmas chapter. I highly recommend it.
Thank you for the lovely reviews - please leave more!
Love
Katie