:A/N: So, I'm finally back on this one. Who would have thought? Please enjoy. I decided to add the "drama" thing I always described in my summaries, so, just to let you know: I wanted to make this an excellent combination of drama and comedy. God knows whether it'll be good. Or you!
:Disclaimer: I don't own POTO.
:Claimer: Maxime (I like her more and more!) and "Christine's Song" do belong to me. Okay, "Christine's Song" partly belongs to Incapability. I admit it. Incapa, are you willing to share?
:Summary: When Raoul gets to the Opera, he doesn't remember Christine. He lays his eyes upon somebody else. Christine pouts. Madame is confused. C. gets on Erik's nerves. How he tries to get rid of her. (Drama/Parody) (Raoul/Antoinette)
:Thanks to: Meg Giry, Lady-Miranda-Van-Tassel, Madame Van Tassel and Mel for reviewing chapter 6 and encouraging me to write on.
(Still watching out for any betareader who is so nice to betaread my chapters.):
Chapter 7: The letter:
Raoul sat down on a chair and put his fingers on his mouth, sinking deeply into thoughts. In his other hand, he crushed a piece of written paper. The sound of the crinkling paper rushed sharply through the air and joined the aura of agony Raoul was feeling. He furrowed his brow absent-mindedly, the hand on his lips trembling.
The evening had been very pleasurable. He had even wanted to spend the night with Mme. Giry. But knowing she would shy at this overhasty behavior, he had decided to leave her, his heart crying for a touch of hers. He still remembered every strand of hair that fell out of her loose bun, palavering her cheekbones. Her hands had caressed the tablecloth all the time, causing him to wish he had the possibility to become this tablecloth and enjoy her soft fingers.
These thoughts couldn't push away the fear he felt in these minutes, how angry he was. For the first time in his life, he felt like crying. Nothing in the world could take away the evening they had together, or so he had thought. Staring on the crushed letter in his hand, he knew that there was, indeed, something that could take away her.
8888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888
Meg sat up in her bed. Touching her neck, she yawned. "Mom, you're a little late," she said, her voice drunk with sleep.
"I know. I'm sorry. I just had to kiss you good night." She leaned down to Meg and kissed her forehead. "You're such a good kid, and this night has been so..."
Meg nodded. "It's okay. Tell me everything about it tomorrow."
"Anything new I should know about?"
"Yea," Meg yawned again, "Christine decided to go back down to him. He was pretty angry, slapped her in the face. Now she has a blue cheek. He said that he had threatened her enough and now he'd take up more drastic measures. Well." Meg laid down again. "Good night."
Mme. Giry had turned around to hide her face that was triumphed by fear. She knew very well what the Phantom was capable of. 'Never wake a sleeping lion,' she had told Christine so many times. 'Now he will come back with all his strength.' A shiver ran down her spine. 'He'll take it out on somebody.' And who that could possibly be was a question that made Mme. Giry leave Meg's room immediately.
8888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888
Maxime sat down next to Christine and handed her a wet cloth to her. "Here, put that on your cheek. I put some peppermint on it, it should help the pain."
"Thanks," Christine shrugged and took the cloth, carelessly holding it on her cheek. "He is so mean! But he'll realize it one day. "He'll love me again, just as I've always loved him!"
"Chris, please. Listen to me." 'Although I hate you, this has effects on the nights I spend with Erik, so get your butt out of the way,' she thought, bit her tongue and continued in a high-pitched, pseudo-caring voice. "This could have effects on the whole Opera. You don't want this, do you? You have an honest heart. You're not egoistic." 'I'll go to hell for lies like that,' she shook her head.
"But Maxime!"
"No 'but's! It's inappropriate. All people talk about you."
"Yes, they all say Raoul doesn't want me!" Christine cried on pouting, several tears running down her make-up covered cheeks.
Maxime smiled to herself, thinking again about this night. Right now, she knew, Raoul would die over this letter. "He wants you, believe me," she claimed, "he does."
"But how do you know?"
"I do."
"But he said he hated me!"
"Nada. He didn't say that. And believe me, I have my contacts. I know for sure he loves you." An evil smirk warped her lips.
8888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888
The next morning, Christine woke up, feeling fresh and relieved. 'Today's another day for Erik to come back to me.' She stood up and moved to the mirror. "Oh, Phantom, come back to me."
On the other side of the mirror, Erik stood and had difficulties holding back an evil laugh. Invisible for Christine, he turned around and went back to his catacombs. 'Good Maxime,' he thought and heard his steps echo from the walls. 'Very good Maxime indeed.' Several seconds later, he heard Christine's hysterical scream.
"AAAAAAAAAAAH!"
Staring at herself in the mirror, her right hand tried to hide what was on her cheek. But the letters in a deep red seemed to glow. "SLUT"
"There's a slut on my face!" She turned away.
8888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888
The Phantom reached his liar, walking around and lightening some candles. "Good morning, my love," he sang and sat down to Maxime. She opened her eyes and laughed. "I didn't sleep!"
"You didn't?"
"No. While you slept, I made something for you!"
"Really?" The Phantom was very surprised. No one had ever made anything for him!
Maxime stood up and reached under the bed, pulling out what seemed to be a portrait.
"Thanks! Is it your portrait?"
"No." Maxime turned the painting around. "It's Christine!"
Erik shut his eyes and turned away, a shriek escaping his throat. "No!"
"Well," Maxime reached under the beg again and pulled out darts, half made of wood, half of iron. "Look."
Erik opened an eye, laughing out loud. "Oh, my dear! I'll hang it right here!" He stood up, took the portrait and hung it at a wall near the bed. "We can always shoot darts when we have enough of each other!"
"I hope that day will never come," Maxime touched her neck. "Never," she breathed seductively. Erik found it very hard to resist her two big friends who seemed to call him, hoping for him to come 'home', how Maxime loved to express her endless lust. Which could, to speak up honestly, cause Erik nausea when he was sober. 'Thank God I never stop drinking,' he thought, stepping back from the portrait, grabbing the darts and shooting one right after the other.
First, Maxime watched him, a smile on her face. But after twenty minutes, she laid back down on the bed, staring at Erik who was obviously having more fun with shooting darts at Christine than enjoying her. By then, Christine's face was full of black dots. 'At least one good thing about this,' she thought and sighed loudly to draw his attention back to her. This was impossible. Erik, the very intelligent, but small child had found another game to play with for hours.
8888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888
Raoul was still sitting on his chair, now looking out of the window straight on the Opera Populaire, which was now enlightened by the still sleepy sun. He hadn't slept all night, his face pale and his eyes lifeless. The hand still on his lips, the other crushing the letter he had by now read two hundred times, he shivered at the mere thought of going back to the Opera. He knew Erik would watch him. Although he didn't like it, no, "like" was the wrong word – he detested it -, he had to admit that Erik was a very clever man and he knew exactly how to get rid of what he didn't like: Christine. But obviously, he didn't care about the two people who would get hurt most of it.
8888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888
To be continued... starring:
Maxime with the big boobs
and
Meg with the big boobs,
only to be separated by the different shade of blond they colour their hair.
