Chapter 4: Sisters

Erik was getting tired of his companion's whining. Raoul sat slumped back in his chair, clearly not interested in the entertainment provided. Truthfully, he wasn't either. She was pitchy, and didn't seem that enthused about performing. He hoped the act they were about to watch would be better, but he doubted it.

Betty had told them when they sat down the Grant sisters would be on in fifteen minutes. Sixteen minutes had passed and he was getting bored. He opened his mouth to complain when two feminine silhouettes appeared behind a thin curtain. They posed and the conductor turned to face the audience.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the Grant sisters."

Erik sat up as the curtain rose, and was relieved that Raoul did too. The orchestra played a simple intro and then they began to sing. All of Erik's expectations were shattered. He was in such a shock, he didn't even notice their slight mistakes.

"Who knew dog-faced Jimmy Grant could have such cute sisters," Raoul murmured, but Erik wasn't listening. He relished the moments the brunette sang by herself. Her voice was superior to her sister's. It might not have been noticeable to the untrained ear, but Erik picked up every mistake of the strawberry-blonde, who, to her credit, moved with more ease.

"She's a dancer," Erik muttered before focusing on the brunette.

"I do need a new partner," Raoul whispered. "What beautiful green eyes."

"They're blue," Erik said.

"Green," Raoul said, looking between the blonde and Erik. Sure it was a little hard to see but she had the most beautiful round eyes and her sister- "Blue." Raoul sat up.

"Blue," Erik agreed, continuing to stare at the brunette.

The number ended and they curtsied before floating off stage. Raoul applauded enthusiastically. Erik clapped, but he seemed to be in some kind of trance.

"I think that was worth it," Raoul said and Erik only nodded. "I recognized the brunette. Has she auditioned for us before?"

"No. I would remember her," Erik said.

"I swear I've heard her sing before," Raoul said, slumping again. They both took long sips of their drinks.

"Christine Davies!" Raoul suddenly cried. "That's how I know her! She was my neighbor as a kid! I swore I heard a southern accent slipping through but I thought I was just imagining it."

He was about to say more but heard voices coming their way.

"You look fine, Chrisy! Stop fidgeting," one hissed.

"I'm not I just- oh. Hello." It was the brunette. Christine. Raoul stood up.

"I AM THE LITTLE BOY WHO WENT INTO THE SEA TO RESCUE YOUR SCARF!" he announced, much to Erik and Christine's embarrassment. Meg was trying and failing to stifle a laugh.

"Sit down," Erik hissed, pinching the bridge of the nose on his mask. For once it wasn't said mask, but rather his handsome business partner causing people to stare.

"I'm sorry sir, do I know you?" Christine asked, shooting Meg an anxious glance.

"It's me, Raoul," he said, spreading his arms. Christine stared for a moment before grinning and launching herself into his arms.

"It's good to see you," Christine said. "How have you been! I haven't seen you in… gosh has it already been so long? We aren't that old, are we?"

They laughed and Raoul pulled out a chair for her, before pulling out a chair for Meg.

"I don't remember you having a sister," he said, looking between the two.

"No. I acquired her more recently. Actually, I suppose she acquired me," Christine said. Erik couldn't help but notice the touch of melancholy that had seeped into her voice. What had led to her and her 'sister's' meeting?

"I'm Meg by the way. I'm usually the talkative one, but you two are apparently old friends," Meg said. "How did you meet?"

"Well, I saved Christine's kerchief from the ocean," Raoul said, sounding rather proud of himself for such a feat. "I nearly drowned."

Erik rolled his eyes. "He always has to be the hero."

"You're Mr. Destler?" Christine asked. She had been so absorbed with Raoul that she hadn't noticed the other man yet.

"Call him Erik," Raoul said. Erik glared at Raoul but didn't say anything.

"It's nice to meet you, Erik," Christine said, her voice much softer now. Her accent was noticeable but gentle, like she hadn't lived in the south for some time. It made his name sound lovely and fresh, rather than like something was caught in Raoul's throat when he said it.

"I was reading an article the other day," Raoul said, looking meaningfully at Christine. "About, uh, the affect peaches and other soft and sweet things on old, cantankerous and crusty men."

Erik fought the urge to punch Raoul in the face. Despite the fact that Erik's previously withering glare had been turned up to a downright murderous one, Raoul continued.

"It's also said that peaches have a profound affect on children… and their happiness. Christine," he said, turning to face her again. "How do you feel about children? Having them and starting a family and such?"

Christine looked startled by the question, and smiled nervously.

"Well, I always planned on having some someday. I suppose. I haven't really thought about it."

Raoul looked up and smiled at Erik. "Isn't that just amazing. Imagine, Erik, a girl in show business, who wants to settle down and have a family."

"Raoul…" Erik grumbled warningly. A light tension settled over the table and Meg took it upon herself to clear it.

"Do you have any advice for the act?" she asked hopefully.

Erik just shrugged, switching on his business man persona. "Just keep working at it, really. That's all there is to it."

"Are you sure? Maybe Christine could go blonde. Then we would really look-"

"No," Erik said, not caring that he had interrupted her. "I wouldn't change a thing."

Christine flushed and looked down at her manicured nails. She tried to hide her smile but Erik noticed, and so did Raoul.

'Perfect,' he thought. He turned and stood, offering a hand to Meg. "Shall we dance?"

"Oh, shouldn't we talk-" Meg started, but he nodded towards Erik and Christine, who weren't looking at each other in a way that seemed more meaningful than if they were staring into each other's eyes.

Meg broke into a grin and leapt to her feet. "Of course. I love dancing."

"So do I," Raoul said, guiding her away from the table.

Christine looked up at Erik and then back down at her lap when she realized he was staring at her. She'd had plenty of people look at her before, she was a singer. The way he was looking at her was different. She felt like he could see right into her soul. He turned his head and looked at Raoul and Meg.

"They dance well together," he said.

"They do," she murmured, looking at her friends. She turned back and really examined Erik. She hadn't been given an opportunity because of the surprise of seeing Raoul. Obviously, there was the mask. It had only obtained her focus when she had first sat down, but she quickly dismissed it. 'Maybe it was part of the show,' she had thought. His eyes held her attention for much longer. His irises looked like they were made from pure gold. She opened her mouth to compliment him, but he spoke up first.

"I should have known," he muttered, shaking his head and turning away. "All women, especially those in show business are the same."

"W-what?" Christine asked, suddenly confused. Was he talking to her?

"My dear," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm that made Christine want to shrink in on herself. "It's rude to stare, but I suppose you would. You probably expected two very handsome fellows to be watching your act, but instead, you got one handsome young man, and… one in a mask."

She couldn't help but laugh at that. "You were staring at me first! I felt like you could see right through my- my head." She was going to say dress, but he hadn't been looking at her dress. She supposed she should be grateful for that.

"Touché, but there is a difference in staring at something of great beauty, and something of great ugliness," he sneered.

She scooted her chair closed so he could hear her over the sounds of the restaurant.

"I thought you were rather handsome actually," she sniffed, ignoring his compliment.

"Well, I'm sure you think every man in show business is handsome then. Everyone woman expects every man in show business to be handsome. It's a terribly shallow and superficial industry," he snapped, scooting his chair close to her as well.

Across the room Raoul and Meg were watching with smiles on their faces.

"They're getting along wonderfully," Raoul said. The distance between the pairs his the angry looks on Christine and Erik's faces.

"Splendidly," Meg said grinning at Raoul, who dipped her gently.

Things were going less smoothly at the table.

"Mr. Destler, you are mistaken. Yes, some women are as shallow as you believe, but not every woman in show business enters the industry to get a man," she said, again sliding her chair closer to him. "And only the unrealistic ones could expect every man in this business to be to their standards."

"And you consider yourself to be realistic?" he asked, also shifting towards her.

"To an extent I believe," she said, tilting her head back so she could maintain eye contact with him. Her attention shifted momentarily to his fingers which were drumming on the table. Her own hand lay next to it, and she suddenly felt very small.

"Well, when you've worked in show business as long as I have-"

She turned so she was facing him fully and he did the same.

"Then you'll know that sometimes the harder image to look at is the one that ultimately works out better for you sometimes. Usually because it's the truth," Christine snapped.

"Unfortunately, Miss Grant, I have to disagree, and I think you will find my experience and qualification exceeding yours," he said.

It took everything in Christine's being not to smack that stupid mask off of his face. Had they been in private, she probably would have. Against her will, her body decided the best course of action would be to burst into tears. She had been performing since she was old enough to sing, sitting on street corners with her parents, sharing their music together. Who was he to assume that just because he was famous and wealthy that he had more experience than her?

A dance floor away with music drowning out the sound of her sobs, Christine looked like she was laughing rather hard at a joke that Erik had told her.

"If this keeps up," Meg said. "We'll be in-laws by the end of the night."

"Good thing we're not in Vegas," Raoul murmured and Meg laughed.

Back at the table, neither Erik nor Christine knew how to stop her tears.

"I'm sorry," she sobbed. "I don't mean to be crying."

She reached for one of the cloth napkins that was neatly folded on the table, but Erik held out a silk handkerchief for her to use. The idea of getting to ruin one of Erik's possessions was too good to pass up in that moment, so she accepted it.

"I should be apologizing to you," Erik said. "I know nothing about you and I assumed you-"

"No, you seem well versed in this area and I came in and tried to correct you," Christine sniffled. She hated herself for apologizing, but she was too polite not to.

"You were just offering another perspective," Erik said softly, setting a hand on her arm. Christine shivered at the unexpected touch and Erik jerked away. She frowned and pulled her wrap tighter around her.

"Because I doubt we'll be meeting again after tonight," she said. "It doesn't make sense to continuing arguing."

"That is a very rational thought," he said, lifting his glass to toast her statement. Christine raised her glass and forced a smile as they clinked their glasses together.