This is a one-shot, so don't ask me for a sequel. I've got two chaptered phics that I'm trying to pull together, and I'll post them when they're done. This is just a random scene. I like writing random scenes. It's slightly AU, but what phic isn't? Please R&R so I know what I should work on!
Disclaimer: I do not own Phantom of the Opera. It belongs to Leroux, ALW, and Susan Kay... and Disney, when they untilmately buy it. doesn't like Disney's bad ways Neither do I own the word 'Delusional'. If anyone owns that, it's Emerson Spartz.
Delusion
By R. J. Daae
"Christine, where have you been?" asked Meg Giry. "The Vicomte has been looking for you."
"Monsieur de Chagny has already been informed that my whereabouts are none of his business," replied the other girl coldly.
Meg paused, slightly taken aback by the apparent change in her friend. "Is there something wrong, Christine?"
"What do you mean, Meg?"
"Well, you're acting so… strange. I thought that you fancied the Vicomte, yet now you speak of him with such disdain."
"And I shall show nothing but disdain to a man who so disrespects my wishes," Christine snapped.
"Please, Christine, explain what it is that you mean," Meg said, slightly desperately. "And tell me where you vanished to for the past week."
Christine sat down at her vanity table, resting her head in her right hand, covering her eyes. "Forgive me for my lack of patience with you, my friend," she said, addressing the floor. "I've just been… going through quite a lot, lately." She sighed.
Meg kneeled down in front of Christine, taking her other hand. "Please, Christine, tell me what the matter is…"
"I can't… There are so many things going on…" she looked towards the door, shaking her head sadly. "Raoul's not listening to me, the managers are lying to everyone, Eri-" she broke off suddenly, looking close to tears.
Meg had heard the sudden stop, wondering what it was that Christine had been about to say. "What was that last thing? And what do you mean, about the managers, and the Vicomte?"
"No, I can't tell anyone… I shouldn't have said as much as I have…"
"Please trust me, Christine," Meg begged, stroking Christine's hand comfortingly. "I won't repeat anything you say…"
"No," she cried, becoming more nervous. "I can't tell anyone!" She stood up, violently yanking her hand from Meg's grasp, and turning away.
"Ouch!" the younger girl exclaimed, "You scratched me!"
"I'm sorry, Meg…" Christine mumbled.
Meg pressed her injured finger into her mouth, sucking at it in an attempt to ease the pain. After a moment she dried her hand on the edge of her dress, and they held her hand in the light, examining the damage.
"Christine, you cut me…" she said in mild disbelief.
"I'm sorry…" Christine repeated.
"Surely your fingernails aren't that sharp, are they..?"
Christine remained silent.
Meg reached over, grasping Christine's left hand again, searching for the cause of her injury. "Christine…" she said, finding it, "Why are you wearing a wedding ring?"
Christine took her hand back again. "Please, Meg, leave… and if you see the Vicomte, please tell him that he would do best to return to Normandy."
"But Christine, he is the head patron… he can't leave."
"The only reason that he is the main patron is because he has money, and he is surely not the only man in France with that. The only reason that he is here is me, and I am no longer a good enough reason for him to stay where he is unwanted."
"Does someone want to keep him away from you?"
"Yes. I want to keep him away. I have no wish to see that man ever again," Christine said quite bitterly.
"What did you mean, about him not listening to you?"
A flash of anger darkened Christine's features as she contemplated what response to make. "I meant simply that. He has hardly listened to a single word I've said, and when he does listen, he has taken me for a mad woman. One would think, that as he takes me for insane, that he would have left me alone by now… he must have an odd taste in women, if he insists that they are insane."
Meg watched Christine in confusion. "Why do you think he believes you to be insane?"
"It is one of only two things of which I am certain at this moment," she said, her eyes softening slightly.
"But why?"
Christine laughed, short and crisp, but the sound wasn't at all humorous. "Because, he thinks that the years of playing make-believe have caught up with me… and that I am suffering of delusions…"
"What sort of delusions?"
"The kind which exist only in my head, and yet are still somehow capable of taking part in swordfights in cemeteries…"
Meg was herself beginning to wonder about her friend's sanity. "Christine, you are worrying me…"
Christine's head jerked up, anger once again etched on her brow. "So, do you share Monsieur le Vicomte's opinions now? I have only two friends, and one of them is dead. You are not the other. Leave, Meg. Now."
"But, Christine-"
"Now!" Christine repeated, ushering Meg towards the door. She succeeded in shoving her out, and then locking the door behind her.
"But Christine! Let me back in!"
"Meg! Get away from my door, now!" Christine shrieked, working herself into near hysterics. She heard Meg kick the door (a poor choice for a ballerina), curse rather impolitely at the resulting pain, and then scamper off down the hall.
A click sounded from behind Christine, and she turned around in time to see the mirror swing off of it's hinges.
"Really, my dear, you shouldn't shriek so, you'll damage your voice."
"Erik," Christine said quietly, crossing the room to him. He took her in his arms, and she began to cry into his shoulder. "Meg and I were fighting, and she said-"
"Shh…" Erik soothed her, "I heard it all…"
Christine allowed herself to calm down, the stress of the day having taken a toll on her. "She thinks I'm mad…"
"That doesn't matter… even if she believed you. She would just run to tell the managers… You know that she's never been one for keeping secrets…"
"At least you believe me…"
"How could I not believe you? Seeing as I am the person whom Raoul and Meg think is a delusion."
Christine laughed to herself quietly. "Yes, I suppose you are correct… Although I do wonder one thing…"
"Yes?"
Christine pulled back slightly, to look Erik in the eyes. "Try to imagine the look upon Raoul's face, if he should find out that I have married a 'delusion.'"
