-----------A/N: Hey, good morning! Or whatever time of the day it is. Here's another chapter. Thank you so much for reviewing "Far Cry"! I hope you'll like it.
-----------Disclaimer (which I've forgotten in the last two chapters): I don't own Phantom Of The Opera, nor any of its characters. I wish Madame Giry was mine, but alas, she's not…
Chapter Three --- Run and Hide
It rained. A promising morning laid its eyes upon the Opera Populaire and, finally, the sunlight bathed Christine's bedroom. She yawned and stretched her skinny arms. Only then, as if she was unable to see much of the day, she opened her eyes. Staring at the ceiling, she remembered what had happened the day before. Immediately, she blushed. She filled her tiny stomach and it ached. 'Maybe I should eat something. Once in a while', she thought and remembered what Madame Giry had told her about anorexia. She stood up and got dressed in another, half see-through dress. She was a little scared of going down to the breakfast. She had embarrassed herself. Deeply. But then, hunger won the battle and she went down.
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The ballerinas usually ate their breakfast in a room near the kitchen. When she entered it, some eating ballerinas looked up from their plates. Remaining silent, she sat down next to a blonde ballerina with a deep cleavage. The deep cleavage caught Christine's eye and she stared at the boobs that almost fell out of it. It was some moments later when she realized that the ballerina sitting right next to her was her best friend, Meg. She frowned.
"Good morning, Meg", she said and yawned once more.
"Hey. Did you sleep well?"
"Um… Yes", she gave back and grabbed some marmalade to put on her croissant. "But I dreamed about yesterday night. Horrible."
"Why? Did you dream how I lost my lucky pointes?"
Christine shrugged. "What? Why should I dream about-"
"Well, it certainly is a nightmare." Meg sipped her white chocolate. "You know, a few days ago -"
"Meg! It was about my performance!"
"Oh." Meg paused. "Yes. The performance." She paused again. "What did Mom say? I didn't dare to ask her. She didn't want to talk to anybody after yesterday night."
"Well, I guess my stage career is pretty much over." She sighed and poured some coffee into her cup. "I guess there aren't many chances to impress Raoul as a cleaner."
"Chris! Is this gay Vicomte still the only thing on your mind?" Meg asked. Christine coughed up some coffee and, doing that, her face turned deep red.
"He's hopefully not gay!" she pressed out of her mouth. "No doubt! He's so mature, so good-looking, so nice to everybody, he embodies natural beauty, strength and … Uh I cannot find the right words! He's the man of my dreams!"
"Yes, I got that", Meg said and grabbed another croissant. "So, what are you going to do about the Golden Rule?"
"Whatever he wants."
"He? I thought it depends on Mom", she said frowning. "Maybe I could … you know… say some nice things about you?"
"No, I am not talking about Giry", she said and chewed on her food. "I think Le Vicomte is the one I should turn to."
"For a date? No, about the Golden Rule? No. Just leave it and beg Madame Giry to take you back."
"I'll make him see me. Maybe I should get him a doctor's appointment. He should get his eyes checked."
"Ya", Meg answered and went off. Christine shrugged.
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Madame Giry sat on her bed and stared out of the window. The opening door didn't tear her away from her thoughts. She stared down on the streets and watched the people go by. 'All of them are the same age. What would it look like if the women were much older than the men? It would look inappropriate. I can't do this. He looks so gay!' She sighed. 'But something about his caring thoughts for the Opera is touching, it's attractive. God.' She slowly hit her head on the glass. 'Need - to - stop - those - thoughts!'
"Mom?"
The shock made her turn around. "Yes?" her nerve-wracked voice asked. "What is it, honey?"
"Feel that you have been reminded that you have classes in ten minutes", she carefully said and set down on the floor to watch the reaction of her mother.
Antoinette sighed loudly. "Yes, I guess I did forget about that."
"Usually, you're already upstairs under the roof, warming up. What's wrong with you?"
"Nothing. Um, Meg, could you take over my stretching class this morning?"
"Why? Are you not feeling well?"
"It's nothing… I just… Need to run some errands in the city."
"But Mom, I can do that. What do you need?"
'Right', Madame thought, 'that was a bad one. I just need to think up something smarter. If I don't feel well, he'll be with me in a minute, followed by thousands of docs.' And that was the last thing on earth she wanted. Well, she wanted to want. She did want him upstairs indeed, but she wasn't allowed to want it.
"It's okay. I will be fine." She wouldn't go there, she knew it already. It was the "Run and Hide" game she was going to play.
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Meg entered the rehearsal room and joined the others who were warming up. Throwing her bag on the ground, she sat down and stretched her legs.
"Hey, Meg, did they already tell you Monsieur Le Vicomte will show up to watch us?" a blonde, big-breasted ballerina said to Meg. "It's probably just a rumor, but isn't it-?"
"He's going to what?" Meg thought she had misunderstood something. 'GOD, please, NO-'
"Yes!"
"Uh, no -" Meg shook her head. 'She'll stare at him instead of stretching. She'll fly into his arms, she'll lick half his face if possible…'
One second later, an impressive silence fell upon the rehearsal room. Monsieur Le Vicomte had entered the room and his satisfied look didn't allow any loud AAHs or OOHs. One look around and all of the ballerinas silently gasped. He sat down on a chair by the window.
"So, Mesdames, where is your teacher?" He was visibly disappointed by not seeing Madame Giry. None of the girls dared to answer. But one… the big-breasted blonde ballerina whose name was surprisingly not Meg. "She's not here yet."
He nodded. "Alas."
"I could begin", Meg suggested.
"Yes, please, we don't want to waste any time."
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Christine ran down the stairs and pushed open the rehearsal room doors. 'Darn', she thought and stepped next to the ballerinas who had just begun their training. 'Late, late, she'll kill me', she thought, but no voice interrupted the pianist's music. After 20 minutes, she had forgotten about any punishment for her being late. When she did a couple of pirouettes and some arabesques, her eyes caught Raoul. And she squeaked loudly. The music stopped. Everybody stared at her.
"Are you Le Vicomte?" she gasped.
"Yes", he said, not very amused by her big, asking eyes. "And?"
"Well, you see, my name's -"
Meg interrupted her. "Chris! Stop it, this is class and not a café."
Christine stared at her. "But Meg, I thought you were my best -"
"Now I'm your teacher." Christine shrugged, turned back and continued to do arabesques, which, altogether, looked rather like a beginner's.
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"Where's Madame Giry?" Raoul stepped next to Meg after class. "I thought she'd be here. We spoke about meeting…"
"Yes. She said she had some errands to run in the city."
"Ah. Well." He was disappointed. But no bad thought crept up to him. No… he couldn't blame this wonderful Madame for anything. 'She'll have her reasons', he thought. "You look just like her."
"I'm her daughter" Meg replied in turn.
"You dance beautifully." He smiled. "Could you give her this?" he took a letter out of his pocket, "and have her contact me as soon as she gets back? We need to talk about the future of the Opera. I'll be with the singers from now on."
Meg took the letter and put it in her bag. "It's not like her not to come to class", she said, "but I guess she'll have some important things to do."
"Yes." He turned around to leave. 'She'll be back soon, I hope.'
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'This is ridiculous.' Madame walked over the Place de la Concorde. 'Now I'm running away from some man who puts my existence in danger. He threatens what I built up all those years. All these years without any men in my life! I won't fall for some young jerk! Is he a jerk? I don't even know him. The less I see of him, the better,' she breathed silently in the Paris air.
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The Phantom smiled and stepped out of his boat. "Christine, my love, sit down", he said and pointed to his bed. "Let us talk."
"Yes, I have so much to say!"
"Indeed? I thought we would talk. Well, but if you really have something to say, let the words float." She sat down. "So, he's this new guy, his name is Raoul, I've known him for so long! He's got brown hair."
The Phantom sat down next to her and handed her a bottle of wine. 'You'll need it', he thought. "Uh, thanks", she took the bottle and drank some wine. "So, what happened yesterday night is unimportant to talk about, I guess you saw it anyway - but this morning! He was in rehearsal, and I didn't even know! I was late! What a shame!"
"Well -"
"Yes, that's what it was like. Why did I eat something this morning? Why? I was probably all fat!"
"No, you're fine, actually you could -"
"And THEN I saw him and fell off my supporting foot. My ankle still hurts." She pointed at her ankle.
"But was Giry there?" he asked. 'She should have done a good job from preventing him to look at you.'
"No, who cares about her? HE was there, you should have seen him, this light around his eyes, he sent shivers down my spine! He's so wonderful!" Although he was disappointed that Christine had a lot of time on her hands drooling over him without any professional distracting her, he thought about more important matters:
"Christine, why don't we talk?" he hinted.
"But we are talking, aren't we? I'm just telling you about him." She breathed in deeply.
"Chris, honey, please. Look, I brought some wine along," he started to kiss her neck.
"But Erik, don't touch me!"
"Why not? Why else are you down here?"
"I want to be untouched for him! A virgin!" She sighed dramatically and day-dreamed.
Erik coughed and drank some wine. "You're not seriously thinking about that. You can't turn back time and delete all we did."
"But Erik, I read that if you haven't had sex for at least six months, then it's almost like you've never had any." The Phantom drank more wine. And more. And more. So much that he had to buy more wine the next day. And he usually had a lot of bottles down in his catacombs.
