And now for another time warp. I'm sick of all this explaining, so currently we're at Clair's Grandma's house (who is currently having fun in Rome, just in case you were wondering where Grandma was) and has just finished telling the whole group about what happened while she was in the coma.
Note, if you love Erik, you will hate me forever and ever.
PLEASE DON'T FLAME ME FOR THIS!
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"You don't believe me? Then how else could have Meg, Madame Giry, Christine and Erik come here?" I demanded, gesturing to the still very confused figures behind me, who straightened when hearing their names.
"Sorry this is taking so long, my friends are quite skeptical." I said in French.
"Well hurry it up, we haven't got all night." Erik said, crossing his arms and looking menacing. I rolled my eyes.
"You were the one who volunteered, need I remind you." I said, starting to get annoyed.
"Katey, when did you learn French?" Brad questioned, awestruck.
"Well, if you had actually paid mind to what I said then you would know!" I snapped in French. The group looked at me puzzled, and I repeated what I said in English.
"Well, it's just… un-believable." Jenny said, still starting at Christine.
"And you're sure we aren't on Punk'd?" Kurt asked to Clair.
She looked at me to answer, and I felt like yelling in frustration. I wish I knew some other language so that I could curse them all, without anyone knowing what I said.
"Fleur, if they do not believe you, then we'll have to go after Francois ourselves." Meg said firmly.
"Meg, I'm going to agree with you on that." I said. Then I turned to my so called friends.
"Fine then; you don't believe us, then we're going." I said and turned.
I wish I had on a dress, just to make that awesome swish sound that Meg, Christine and Madame Giry had accompanying them.
I started to go out the door with my Paris Friends, but someone grabbed my arm. I whirled around to see who had my arm, and found myself face to face with Ethan.
"We believe you, Katey; it's just that we're all in shock of what you've had to go through."
"Well it would be nice if you got over your shock and come along! We've got to hurry! They" I gestured to the French group "Can't stay here for another day!"
"I know, so we've got to get going. Come on." He said to the crowd behind us, motioning them through the front door.
Ethan had his arm around my shoulder still, and I saw from the corner of my eye, Erik trying to keep down a laugh.
"Hang on…" I said, ducking out from under him.
I went over to Erik and got on my tip toe so that he could hear me whisper. "You better wipe that grin off your face…"
"And what if I don't?" he challenged.
"I'll… um…" I cast around in my mind for something mean. Then I got it. "Don't make me bring Raoul here. I do have the power to do that, you know."
He seemed to pale a little under his mask, and I smiled wickedly, going back to Ethan.
"What was that all about?"
"A little reminder to keep his temper in line." I said simply.
"Hold up!" Kelee said as we got outside.
"What now?" Christi asked, impatient to go after a mad man.
"We can't go out in public like this! At least not them!" Kelee said, referring to the group dressed in clothes over a hundred years old.
"You're right… Phangirls would be all over them… at least all over Erik anyhow." I said, realizing now how stupid it would be to have Erik walking around in his Phantom costume.
"Alright, Girls, we'll take the ladies, guys… well… you wait here. I guess we'll have to handle Erik." I said, hoping that we could at least make it to my house without having to be mauled by crazed Phangirls.
But how stupid my hopes were…
My house is past one of the Libraries, and it was the local haunt for musical lovers such as me, and unfortunately for us… we had to walk right past it.
"Walk faster; please… that library has more of your fans in it than should be allowed…" I said to them, and they picked up their pace, but we would have had to have been running as fast as superman to get past there without being seen by one of the girls.
And right as we stepped into the line of vision by the windows, the doors banged open and out came the girls, some friends of mine, some not.
"More fans… keep going… keep going…" I said to them, and they hurried their pace, not sure of what to make of these crazy girls who seemed to all be wearing shirts with Gerik on the front.
"Oh my GOD! It's ERIK!" they shrieked.
I shoved the small of Erik's back with all my might.
"MOVE!" I commanded him, for he had stopped in either fear or flattery.
But all at once they swooped down on us like birds of prey.
"Katey! Where did you get them?" they asked, as though I had bought them from somewhere.
"Nowhere! Now let us go! We're just on our way back home from…the photographers…. Now let us go!"
"But!" They started, but I cut them off.
"But nothing, you're all being rude to my friends. They just won a Phantom of the Opera look-a-like contest. Now let us go, my goodness." Abby fibbed. I was surprised she had come up with a lie that fast.
They backed off, muttering darkly.
"Come on, let's go, before they realize we're lying." I whispered in French. "You too, Erik." I added, grabbing his arm and tugging.
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I had lain out a 'regular' outfit of my dad's for him, and then selected one of my mom's dresses for Madame Giry, bringing it back up to my room for her.
Inside I found pandemonium.
Evidently Jenny, Christi, Abby, Clair, and Kelee were trying to break the language barrier by shouting and miming. The Paris Girls, as I had grown accustomed to calling them, looked horrified at the prospect of having to wear jeans and were shouting back in French.
"My God!" I said when I came in. Everyone stopped yelling for a moment, and then all at once started it back up, all trying to tell me to reason with the other language.
"Stop, stop, stop, stop!" I cried over all to noise, switching from French to English with every other word, bringing the room to a silence.
"Firstly, Madame Giry, if you do not mind wearing this…" I said, handing her the dress.
True it was a bit fancy for just going out looking to murder someone, but it would have to do.
She accepted the dress, and I directed her to the bathroom where she could change in privacy, then I turned to the Paris Girls.
"Meg, Christine, I know how uncomfortable you are at the suggestion of wearing man's pants, so I'm going to suggest a skirt." I said, opening my closet doors and pulling out two of my skirts that fell to just under the knee.
"It is too short! I cannot go out exposing my leg!" Meg said, holding the beaded skirt up to her.
"I know, but it's the best I can do." I said, now turning to pull out a pair of screen tees.
They stole a look at one another, but accepted them without comment, both fully knowing that it was useless to argue.
"Fleur, could you help us?" Christine asked, pulling her hair around her shoulders, exposing the long row of buttons down her back.
I nodded and began to undo them swiftly, with a little edge of expertise. Any of my friends from now that tried to undo these buttons would have gone completely mad by the fifth one and tried ripping the dress off without undoing it. I know I was ready to do that the first hundred times I had to change, but I got the hang of it eventually.
I un-did the last button in record time, and went on to help Meg while Christine shucked off her dress and petticoats, exposing her lace up shoes, stockings, pantalets, a long chemise and corset laced to the impossibly tiny sixteen inches.
I told her and Meg that the corset, chemise and pantalets would be fine, but the stockings and shoes were a no-no.
I dressed them up in modern day clothes, and the shirts fit well around the shoulders, but it made the waist look bigger than it actually was.
"Um, ok, the skirt looks fantastic on you two, but the shirts won't work…" I said, rooting through my drawers for two draw-string shirts. "Shoot… of all the times for them to be in the laundry…" I muttered.
"Never mind, I'm going to have to play seamstress here for a moment…" I said, grabbing a box of safety pins and kneeling down behind them, pinning their shirts back so they fit their bodices snuggly.
I stood in front of them and examined their new look.
Very out of character.
Christine wore a simple black skirt that had a 50's-ish feel to it, and a pale blue shirt that had a picture of Wonder Woman, and then her logo. Meg wore a skirt that looked the same as Christine's except it had little black beads sewn to the hem and wore my white shirt with the Billabong logo written over the chest.
They looked almost like normal teenage girls, except for the miniscule waist line, pale white skin, and hair.
The waist and skin color I couldn't do much about, but the hair I could.
I sat them down on my bed and loosened their hair out of the neat pleats, and ran my brush through their hair, pulling it back into pony tails, making them look a little more normal.
Jenny went to my closet and pulled out some French Soles for them.
Madame Giry walked in just then, and was stunned to see her two girls dressed so 'scantily'. While she herself was dressed in something considered what a whore would wear in 1870 something.
It was my mother's vintage 1930's wrap dress that was a denim blue color with bright yellow flowers strewn in a pretty pattern. She wore a pair of plain black T-strap pumps, which made her legs look perfect.
"Madame, I know it isn't proper to wear this little in public, but I can tell you that no one will scorn you here. I promise you." I said honestly, trying to calm her.
She stiffly nodded.
"Alright, let's go make sure Erik hasn't done anything stupid, and we'll go." I said in both languages.
I had them wait in the living room while I went up to my parent's close door and knocked. "Erik, you dressed, yet?"
There was no answer, so I opened the door slowly, opening it only two inches.
I put my mouth against the crack calling, "Erik?"
I opened the door a little more, but something stopped it. I thrust against the door harder, and felt it thump against something.
I stuck my head through the door, and peered around at what was in the way, and then screamed.
I couldn't help it, you'd be screaming your head off too if you saw a corpse with a mutilated face and blood all over him from the long criss-crossed slit on his throat, directly above his Adam's Apple.
And then all of a sudden my screams were silenced by a hard hand over my mouth, and then one around my waist, pulling me inside.
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