People always relaxed and were more likely to open up when sharing food and drink, and Gus well knew this to be a fact of life. Therefore, before whisking the small seamstress away to the water's edge, he stopped at a cafe and purchased enough for a modest picnic meal for two, although he merely picked at the food to allow his companion to eat her fill before sating his own hunger with whatever was left over.
Ang ate little, herself, taking a few modest bites to be polite more than anything else. She knew Gus watched her; she could feel his heavy gaze on her as she stared out over the river. Swans glided across the reflective water while ducks grazed nearby, their heads and necks plunging into the depths to pick at minuscule creatures embedded in the sediment below. Those in the upper crust of society paraded themselves and their children or dogs or both up and down the opposite bank, displaying their wealth and lack of care for anything beyond appearance. The breeze kicked up and carried with it the sweet aroma of fresh brioche.
It was a picturesque facade, like a snapshot on a postcard. But for all its beauty...
"It isn't home," Ang whispered.
Gus canted his head quizzically to one side, scooting just a hair closer to allow conversation in lower tones. "Tell me about your America."
She smiled distantly, as if the very request transported her back to her time and place. "It's... it's loud. So loud sometimes I forgot what silence was like. Even though I didn't live in a huge city, it felt like it never slept, like there was always someone awake, something happening. If it wasn't the theater crew leaving in the middle of the night after a late load-out, it was the bar fight around the corner, or the dance club letting out, or some good-for-nothing being thrown on his ass after his wife caught him cheating. Trains rumbled by at all hours. People would be shouting in anger or in love. Sirens blared. It was dirty and the sidewalks were filled with trash. But it was home. My first several nights here, I was awake for hours; all I could hear was my own heart beat. I didn't realize how much I needed those sounds to fall asleep. I didn't have many friends, just the people I worked with, but I can still see their faces, hear their voices. I can hear Mac's Scottish brogue as he cursed at the new techs the company brought in. I can smell Stitch's perfume, orange and vanilla. I can hear the creaking of the catwalk when we hung lights. I still can't believe I've been here for months. I wonder if they miss me."
Gus's mouth quirked into a lopsided grin; he didn't understand half of what she'd shared, but at least she was talking, sharing. "They would be crazy not to."
Ang side-eyed him before biting back a chuckle. "Maybe. Or maybe no one noticed that I'm gone."
"How could they not?"
She sighed. "It's complicated. I don't even understand it."
"What brought you here? Didn't you like your life in America?"
"I loved it," she answered on a breath.
"But...?"
"But... nothing. I fell. I fell from the catwalk... I fell through the stage... and-and when I woke up..." She couldn't say more. Not only would it land her in an asylum for good, it would put Erik in danger if anyone found out about him. If he was still nothing but a legend, she was resolved to keep him that way.
"When you woke up..." Gus prompted.
"When I woke up, I was suddenly... here." Ang glanced helplessly over her shoulder at her friend and confidant, awaiting his censure. Gus was staring at her, mildly confused, partially awaiting the rest of the story. "That's it. I fell, and landed here. There. At the opera. I know it's impossible. Believe me, I know. I keep pinching myself, thinking I'm in some sort of dream or nightmare, but it's real. That's why my French is so horrible. I didn't speak a word of it when I landed here. I only spoke a little by the time I met you."
"I did notice that," he quipped.
"I know I sound crazy. I get it if you have to turn me in."
At that, Gus burst out with a short laugh. "Turn you in? To whom?"
"I don't know. Whoever you turn crazy people in to."
He laughed again and shook his head. "What an imagination you have, La Petit. Even if such authorities were interested in you, I'd never betray a friend." Scooping her hand up in his, he brought it to his lips and kissed the back of it. "And you are my friend. Just as I hope I'm yours."
Ang smiled gently. "You are. You're my best friend. Well, my only friend here, but my best, all the same."
"I'll take what I can get," he teased.
A comfortable silence stretched between the pair, their attention returning to the river spread out before them like a rippling mirror.
"There's more, isn't there?" Gus asked quietly, a knowing tone lacing the question.
She sighed again and let her head hang forward on her neck. "Ugh. So much more. And I'll sound even crazier than I already do."
Slowly, Gus scooted partially behind her, his hand cupping her shoulder to urge her to lean back against him. "I told you: You can trust me," he murmured in her hear. "You can always trust me."
"I know," Ang whispered.
Both arms wound their way loosely about her. "So what's keeping your mouth so tightly shut?"
A shudder shook her form and she burrowed deeper in the embrace and let him take her weight. "I'm afraid that-that if I speak it, it'll be real. As if keeping quiet about it somehow makes it as if it never happened."
"My sister, Charlotte, never liked sharing her secrets with me, either. But she always did in the end."
The warmth of Gus's arms finally calmed her squirming insides. "Hm, did she now?"
"Yes, she did. And you're a lot like her, you know."
"Am I?"
"Absolutely. You love chocolate as much as she does, for one, and you both can get lost for hours playing with satin skirts and ribbons," he replied before sighing heavily. "I miss her so. Perhaps I should start calling you Little Lottie instead of La Petit; perhaps it would help ease my longing for my family."
Ang chuckled softly before the gears began to tick and turn. Suddenly, she threw herself away and spun on her knees to stare wild-eyed at Gus. "What did you say?"
He started, eyeing her curiously. "Which part? That you are like her? That I should call you Little Lottie?"
"Yes, that! Why?" she shrieked, aware of the hysteria rising but unable to stop it. "Why would you call me that?"
"Because you remind me of her... Charlotte... Lottie; we call her Lottie. And you are quite a bit smaller than she is, thus Little Lottie," he explained slowly, hesitantly, his body angled away from her. His eyes searched for some clue as to the reason behind her outburst. Even as Ang dropped her face into her hands, he stayed the course. "I will not if such a thing offends you somehow. Is it that you angry that I think of you as a sister? I didn't mean to lead you on, if that is what has upset you. I thought we were friends. Truly, I didn't mean to-"
"No, no, it isn't that. You don't understand!" came her muffled reply.
"Then help me understand!" he exclaimed, taking her firmly by the shoulders. "I want to understand, to help you. Angelique, what are you afraid of?"
"I'm afraid of- of-" Her head came up to, eyes pleading with Gus to spare her, to somehow pull the truth from her so she wouldn't have to speak the words. And just when she thought she might find the courage to tell him everything, her eyes caught a flash of white over his shoulder.
It was fleeting, almost nonexistent, but there in the shadow of a doorway, she swore she saw the sun catch the white of a featureless mask before it vanished.
"Oh God."
She felt the blood drain from her face; the sound of waves roared in her ears. Her vision tunneled as the world swam before her eyes. With a soft whimper, darkness crashed over her and Ang collapsed.
A/N: One would think that, with NOTHING but free time, stuck at home with the kidlets, no job, under relative lockdown for two months, I would be writing up a storm. But nooooo... apparently this particular story wants to stay just out of reach and I have to fight with Ang, Gus, and Erik for every inch, finicky characters that they are. Thank you for sticking with me! I'm trying! And as always, please please please drop me a line or a comment if you want to see me keep this story going, hate it or love it, or if you have any interesting plot ideas! I love scheming and turning the tables on my characters!