A/N: Hey readers, I'm so sorry I wasn't able to get this on the net sooner:(, school + annoying family members... I think you get the meaning. Anyway, I've got big plans for Meg, but you'll just have to wait and see what they are. And yes, I now project that nasty, devious little laugh that was commented on by my good friend L2C, MUAHAHAHAHAHAHA! You'll never believe who she ends up with, not in a million years. Although, you can try to guess and we'll see who gets it right! Now... On with the story!
Disclaimer: I do not own the Phantom of the Opera, or any of it's characters.
Kristen walked nervously down the pathway of destruction. Not once did she touch solid floor, as the rubble and ashes covered the entire area. Young Meg wasn't crying any longer, but by the looks of her, curled up in that seat, staring up at the stage, she was still very distraught.
Although she was quiet, she could not help but worry that someone besides Meg, and Erik, would catch her there. If Madame Giry happened to find her up and about, with the use of her eyes, she knew that her days at the Populaire would be numbered. She came upon the saddened girl, why was she crying? Meg was always in the most cheerful of moods, what had happened to make her so unhappy?
"Meg?" Kristen whispered. Almost instantly Meg jumped to her feet, the poor girl looked scared out of her wits at the very sound of Kristen's voice.
"Shhh, it's only me" Kristen murmured silently. Meg sighed in alleviation,
"My God, I thought you were my mother," She said, between deep breaths. "What are you doing here?" She wiped away her tears as she spoke, and gave her friend the most questioning look.
"Erik was showing me around the theatre," She articulated, "He was showing me box 5. and I... I couldn't help but notice you were... Meg please tell me what's wrong" Kristen begged, with worry. She'd never seen Meg sad before, it was new and almost alarming.
Meg returned to her seat, and just stared up at the set, even after all this time, some remnants of Don Juan Triumphant remained. "I don't think you would understand, even if Idid tell you."
"Is it serious?" Kristen asked, sitting in the seat beside Meg, which also went unharmed.
"About as serious as one's future can be..." Meg voiced mournfully, "You won't believe the things my mother said to me." The poor girl covered her face, now she had embarrassment to add to her melancholy, and she wished Kristen had not found her this way. Everything would be better if she could have just kept these feelings a secret.
Kristen's brow elevated in sympathy, so it was something Madame Giry said to her to make her so sad? "I really don't mean to be... an intruder of personal business, but perhaps it would make you feel better to talk about it." She said softly.
Meg shook her head, "Nothing can doctor this, they're so true... my mother's words. I am nearing the end of my courting age, Kristen! and not one suitor has called on me."
"Oh, but Meg, all hope is not lost, you still have many years ahead of you."
"Yes," Meg retorted, "Many years to watch my best friends get married and move away, while I stay here with my mother in this God awful theatre, dancing away my last years of youth. I'm frightened Kristen..."
"But, what did she say to you to make you feel such agony?"
Meg sniffled, and wiped away further tears which had managed to slide down her rosy cheeks,
"I was trying to get her to warm up to the idea of letting you stay here... She told me I didn't know what I was talking about, when I spoke of..."
"Spoke of?" Kristen asked.
Meg covered her face. The word 'love' would not allow itself past her lips. She knew that if she said it, she would burst out into tears once more, and she could not do that in front of Kristen, whom had been through so much more. Seeking pity from a woman like Kristen Verlaine was just wrong.
"I've been so stupid, to spend so many years smiling for others without any regard of my own affairs. What will I do when my dancing career is over? Everyone knows that a dancer's career ends in her mid 20's, Where will I go from there? I'm frightened..."
"Don't be frightened Meg," Kristen said, putting a hand to her friend's shoulder, "Everyone goes through this, it is no big deal."
"Not for you it's not... Will you someday marry Erik, and leave me here, just like Christine did?" And just as Meg said the sentence, she realized that they were on the very brink Christine and Raoul's return, and Kristen didn't know yet. She quickly covered her mouth, and gave Kristen a wide eyed stair, through her pools of bloodshot blue.
"Meg," Kristen sort of chuckled, "I don't think you have to worry about that, I mean, he lives here... you know" she said, but soon realized that the look her friend was giving her was not the result of her paining thoughts. "Meg? are you all right?" she asked.
"Oh Kristen, I've got some frightfully horrible news to tell you," She said.
"What is it?" Kristen inquired curiously
"We're being..."
"MEG?" The distant echo of Madame Giry's voice rang through one of the many passage ways and out into the main theatre.
"Kristen!" Meg whispered in panic, "It's my mother... I cannot allow her to see me like this!" she said,
Kristen's eyes grew wide, "She can not see me at all!"
But before any given plan of escape could be executed, the two of them were faced with the horror of a very shocked Madame Giry. The elderly woman froze in her tracks at the very scene, her lovely daughter, crying, and Kristen, in the upper part of the theatre. Madame Giry's intentions were originally to warn Meg that Christine would soon arrive, but now, with what she saw, her mind seemed to be completely erased.
"Kristen!" Madame Giry watched as Kristen looked her directly in the eye. This was no blind woman. "You have regained your sight?"
"Please Madame, I can explain." Kristen said.
Madame Giry's eyes lit up, "My child, you are free!" She said, "Please tell me he has let you go."
Kristen's expression seemed to change from that of worry, to that of mild anger. "Madame, I was never his prisoner."
Antoinette took a step closer to Kristen, "I never thought I would see the day that you would look out into the world with working eyes. But how? How is it that you were not his prisoner?"
"I should be thanking you," Kristen said, "If it were not for you, this would not have happened. It must have been the fall, when I hit my head, something must have happened."
"No doubt, but I still don't understand... how..."
"Madame Giry, you cannot make me leave this place. I love the Populaire, and I love..." She paused. The words nearly rolled off her tongue as if they were the easiest words in the world to say, but was it wise to tell this woman of her feelings towards Erik?
"Dear girl, I hope I was not about to hear what I think I was about to hear."
Kristen sighed. It was high time that Madame Giry learned the truth, before matters became seriously out of hand.
"I love him, Madame."
Antoinette's eyes became a shade darker. Kristen was either under a spell, or a mad woman.
"Are you... sure?"
"I've never been more sure of anything in my life" Kristen said. Kristen had known that Erik was in box 5, watching them, but as of now she'd completely forgotten, and Madame Giry had no idea he was even there. As he listened from where he sat, he could not believe the feelings which were being created within him. She loved him? Kristen Verlaine. His eyes closed. This was the very moment he never thought would happen, but did. Soon after hearing these words, box 5, was empty. When Kristen returned to the lair, it would not be a lair... it would be a home, which she could tolerate to live in throughout the rest of her life.
"Madame Giry." A new sound seemed to circle around them. The soft voice of Christine de Chagny was brought to their ears. Meg, who had been greatly upset, quickly forgot her perils upon seeing her best friend standing in the doorway.
"Christine!" Meg shouted, running up the ruined audience path to embrace her old friend tightly. Kristen seemed to yawn with slight sarcasm,
"Well, it does feel nice to be completely forgotten," Kristen said to Madame Giry, but the woman's eyes were also transfixed on the beauty that was Christine. Kristen also averted her eyes towards the young woman standing before them, and she could certainly see why Erik had thought her so precious. This woman... well, the only thing that could be said was that there was never a woman more beautiful.
Christine smiled widely, her cheeks were filled with a colour that none of them had seen on her since way before the tragedy of the Opera. "Meg, my darling, it is so wonderful to see you again," She said, with her soft and lovely voice.
Kristen turned her face from Christine, she immediately realized that compared to this woman, she was... hideous. The marks on her brow would certainly prove that. Madame Giry saw this, and could only sigh soundlessly. No one's beauty surpassed Christine's, and she knew that Kristen was intimidated.
"Does he love you?" Madame Giry asked Kristen quietly, hoping Christine would not hear.
Kristen slightly smiled, "He said words far greater than any which could describe love."
"If he does, then Christine will no longer matter to him."
"Madame Giry, he was obsessed with her! Of course she will still matter to him."
Their small conversation came to a quick end as Raoul burst through the doors, juggling three or four quite heavy suit cases. Madame Giry smiled, this would not be a moment of sadness, or worry.
"Christine, come here, I would like to introduce you to Kristen Verlaine. She is our newest resident at the Populaire."
Christine walked towards them smiling, although, coming closer to Kristen she began to see the marks upon the young woman's face, and although she tried to hide it, the curiosity and slight concern was not completely hidden from her eyes.
Christine held out her delicate hand to Kristen, and they shook in friendly salutation. "Perhaps you can tell me all about how you came to live here," Christine said fondly, remembering her years at the Populaire. "Madame Giry, it hurts to see this place in such ruin, I am so glad to be able to help you"
"No, we are very grateful for your patronage, a few more weeks and we would have been permanently finished."
Christine's large chocolate eyes became a bit moist with sentimentality as she looked around the theatre, until suddenly she was brought out of her silent reverie by a very exhausted Raoul,
She quietly giggled, "I'm sorry love," She said, picking up the suit case that had fallen from his hands to the floor. "Madame, where will our living quarters be?" she asked. Madame Giry bit her lip. Certainly not her old room, not with the Phantom still lurking about.
"There is a lovely suite in the west wing, completely untouched by the fire. You may reside there until this place is rebuilt, come, I will show you."
Christine shook her head in protest, "Perhaps you could show Raoul to our room, I will take this" She emptied his hands of one more suite case, "And I will be along shortly. Please just let me catch up with Meg, and get to know Ms. Verlaine a little better." Raoul gave her a soft kiss on the cheek,
"Anything you wish, Christine" he said, his voice was that of a man who truly loved his wife. Madame Giry had never seen Christine smile so much, she seemed positively radiant, almost glowing. The three women watched as Antoinette led Raoul out of the theatre, and Christine began to giggle slightly,
"I've missed this place so..." Christine confessed happily. Meg frowned,
"Even after everything?" she asked.
Christine lightly sighed, "Things which lie in the past should not be dwelt upon. What happened was terrible, and I still feel very horribly for what happened, but it's over. All we can do is walk forward." Upon these words Kristen smiled, perhaps a little more than she should have. Christine looked at this peculiar woman, wondering how it was that she came to be here, and wondering other things.
"So... Ms. Verlaine," She said.
"Please, it's Kristen." She said. She felt extremely awkward speaking in friendly terms with the woman who broke poor Erik's heart. She should have felt jealous right now, that this woman had once possessed his heart,but she couldn't. She could only feel bad that this woman had caused the man that she loves, any sort of pain at all. But she would not let these emotions show. If she was going to function at the Populaire, and amongst these people especially, she had to get along with them, otherwise she would be doomed by constant conflict.
"All right... Kristen... How did you come to live here?" she asked.
"My family suffered a house fire in the country. In the misfortune, I was blinded. I was brought to the doctors in Paris... to make a long story short, there was nothing they could do for my sight, so my doctor contacted Madame Giry, who brought me in to live here until they could find an opening in a blind school."
"But... you can see fine," Christine commented.
Kristen nodded, "Well, during my stay here, some rather unexpected things happened. In fact, I came to the Populaire not long before the performance of Il muto, I heard everything from my room..."
Christine gasped, "You then... know of... O.G?"
Kristen slightly smiled, "I know the whole story. I was in the audience when you performed in Don Juan, you sang beautifully." She said. "How I regained my eyesight was a bit of a miracle." She explained.
Christine's eyes grew wide, "You lived here through all of that and you had the fortitude to stay?"
Kristen so wanted to tell Christine everything. She wanted to tell her that she now loved the man which this woman was so content with leaving behind, but no... it would have to wait, or perhaps Meg would open her slippery little mouth for her.
Christine smiled, "Well, I'm glad you stayed, I think we shall be great friends." Kristen could see her eyes roaming over the scars which marred her brow,
"It happened in the house fire," she deciphered, knowing the question which was hanging somewhere on the tip of the countess's tongue. Christine nodded in understanding,
"When I first saw you, I thought you were in costume." Christine admitted.
Kristen's brows knitted together in her obvious confusion. "What kind of costume?"
"Oh, just from far away it looked as if you wore a sort of design, like that of a fairy, or queen... I've seen a lot of makeup work done... I'm sorry if I offended you," she said.
Kristen shook her head, "Not at all," she said, "I'm just glad my face wasn't melted off."
Meg began laughing at Kristen's joke, Kristen joined in, and in turn, Christine also shared in the humour. It was easy to see, for Kristen anyway, why Christine was so able to leave the dungeons so readily. The girl was a total child. She was completely innocent, and fragile. Kristen almost laughed when she saw the likes of Raoul though, so pathetic and weakly looking, Christine having to offer two hands in order to carry their luggage, which so so obviously the gentleman's job! She couldn't be mad at Christine, the woman was just ignorant, and no more than that.
Although she participated in such joy, there was a serious feeling of unease in the Meg's heart. Christine was back! Kristen loved Erik, and Erik had once loved Christine. Someone's heart may yet be broken, even though the peak of their tragedy was far in the past. Christine would have to know the truth about Erik's supposed death, and Kristen could not be present when that happened.
In almost perfect timing, Raoul and Madame Giry returned. "Come Christine, it is almost time for dinner," Madame Giry announced. Kristen nearly snorted. She remembered the conversation between the cook and the waiter, these people were basically stealing food! Not that it was the de Chagny's fault, but certainly it could be blamed on Madame Giry and the managers. Christine nodded, and walked over to them, still carrying the suite cases. When Raoul offered to carry them for her, she simply denied his help, and insisted on carrying them herself. Kristen nearly snorted again, she couldn't imagine how Christine could have given up Erik for the piteous likes of Raoul.
Meg happily waltzed over to her best friend's side, as she was invited to this dinner along side her mother. This gave Antoinette the perfect opportunity to go over to Kristen, while the other three chatted mindlessly about stupid topics.
"My dear," Antoinette began, "You truly love Erik?" She asked in a very low whisper.
"I do, Madame" Kristen said, "Is it so hard to believe?"
"Well, you can only imagine how hard it is to believe... Is your wish truly to stay, within the Populaire?"
Kristen sighed, she was getting sick of answering these questions, "Yes Madame, If you will leave well enough alone, I should like to continue living here until I live no longer."
It was an extremely difficult thing for Madame Giry to do, give in to the wishes of this beautiful young woman, especially since her wishes were to live with a mad man, but apparently the girl had her heart set on him, and if there was one thing she would never forgive herself for doing, it would be destroying the last chance Erik had to be happy on this earth.
"All right Kristen, I will interfere no longer. But you must give me one thing in return" said the woman, and she spoke with the most serious air Kristen had ever witnessed.
"What is that?" she questioned.
"You must ensure that he no longer plagues the theatre with his influence."
Kristen gave Giry a look of confusion, causing the elder woman to sigh,
"No more interrupting Opera's, no more scaring little ballet dancers, no more dropping sets on singer's heads!"
Kristen covered her mouth to hold back laughter, which obviously annoyed Madame Giry, "It isn't funny" She argued.
"Oh yes... yes it is" Kristen replied, and hugged Meg's mother warmly, "This means so much to me, Madame, thank you," She said. In her eyes, traces of tears of happiness could be seen.
"Now go, I am terribly sorry you were not invited to dinner, If I would have known you were not blind, you would have had a place at the table. I am sorry, I must go now." Giry explained, returning to Meg and the de Chagny's.
Meg watched Kristen walk off into the darkness, and she knew what she had to do. After dinner, she was going to tell Christine that the Phantom of the Opera still haunted the Populaire.
