A/N: Etoile du Bolshoi lives! I am indeed alive my dear readers! Most of this chapter was written before Christmas, but right around the holidays I fell rather ill for about a month. I'm still "sick", but I'm a lot better than I was. Then there is the matter of school, which is currently kicking me in the bum-oley. Here's a life lesson for you all: never take two history courses. I haven't really had much time for myself, let alone write. But luckily for you all, I had a burst of inspiration this afternoon and rather than read about the Thirty Years War, I decided to write this instead. It's not my best work, but I hope you please bear with me-it will get better. I apologize if this long wait has caused some of you to abandon the story, but I thank each and every one of you who continue to stick with me and this story.

With that said, I hope you all enjoy!

Chapter 6

"So, what do you plan on doing with your life as a newly freed woman?" I rolled over in my bed and looked at the digital clock. Two minutes past noon. I woke to the sound of my mobile buzzing under my pillow and noticing it was only Jammes, I decided it was safe to answer.

"Is moping in bed for the rest of my life an option?" That 'new found beginning' I had felt the night before disappeared when I woke up. I knew full well that a life without Raoul would be difficult at first, but I didn't expect to wake up to the feeling that I had maybe made a mistake. The feeling that goes something like 'What am I going to do when ten years go by and I'm still living in my dad's house and I still have the job that makes me wonder why I get up every morning?'

"Unfortunately, no. I thought you were…oh, how does that saying go…take the bull by the horns?"

"I fell off the bull."

I heard her let out a long, frustrated sigh. "Look hun, don't kid yourself. Things are going to be tough for a while. But what makes you different from everyone else is whether or not you decide to greet the sunshine and make the most of your day or sink back into the shadows and become Miss Havisham. And I really don't have the money or the time to get Jerry Springer's arse all the way over here just to bulldoze your house in order to get you out of your room."

Ah, that's why I love Jammes so dearly. She doesn't beat around the bush when she has something to say. And I must say, she is always the one to put me in my place. Or at the very least, she puts things into perspective. I only get this one life after all-it makes no promises for what's to come; it is what it is. And I know with every fiber of my being that Mum is watching over me and keeping my baby safe until it's my time to see them both again. She would want what's best for me.

"So," she concluded, "You, Meg, and I are going out for drinks tonight. And if you don't show up at Barney's by eight, Meg and I will personally come to your house and drag you out by force. So start getting ready and throw on your Marc Jacobs heels and that denim mini skirt you haven't worn in five years. It makes your bum look nice and round."

"Yes ma'am." There was a pause and judging from the background noise, Jammes was in the middle of driving.

"Now-," her five-year old daughter, Emma, cut her off. "We're almost there, sweets. Mummy can't drive any faster." She said quietly into the phone, "Ugh, I'm on my way to take Emma and the little brat from next door to their gymnastics lesson. I swear, the child could make a nun curse. She gets her attitude from her bitch of a mother-,"

"I'm telling my mummy you said the B-word!" A shrill girls' voice shouted from what I assumed to be the backseat.

"You can tell your mummy everything I say, then maybe I'll be fired as my job as your drive around nanny." I giggled quietly to myself, attempting to conceal it by tilting the phone away from my head. "I'll talk to you later Christine. Knowing my luck, I'll get pulled over for being on the phone. Do you think the police take snotty children as a means to pay for tickets? No, probably not. I'll try anyway though. Talk to you later."

"Bye Jammes." There was a click on the other end and I set the phone down.

I knew better than to disobey Jammes, and was promptly ready by seven thirty. I didn't wear the mini skirt as she ordered, however; I don't exactly feel ready to allure anyone of the opposite sex just yet. Though I did put the Marc Jacobs pumps on that I wore as a bridesmaid in Jammes' wedding.

I was just getting my coat on when there was a knock on the front door.

"Oh good, you're ready. I really thought I was going to have to pull you along kicking and screaming." I nodded dumbly and looked past Jammes-a stretch limousine was pulled up along side the road.

"You really didn't think we were going to drive my space ship or Meg's tiny loon mobile did you? Let's go, I have a feeling Meg already drank half the bottle of champagne."

"Alright, let me just tell my Dad I'm leaving," I moved back a bit, but Jammes put her arm around me and ushered me out the door.

"Not necessary. I've already informed him that we would be kidnapping you and having a night of much needed girl fun."

I climbed into the limo, which I am still unsure was completely necessary-Barney's is only a fifteen minute walk from my house. We would be there in five minutes. It was a nice thought though and I made a mental note to thank Jammes later for her kindness. Meg was lounging on the long seat with a glass of champagne already in hand.

"That was faster than I thought. I was certain Jammes would have to knock you unconscious." Am I really that antisocial?

Jammes began pouring more champagne and handed a glass to me. "Ladies, a toast to the new Christine and her newly single life, which starts tonight. May you find many a man to warm your bed."

"Jammes!" She stuck her tongue out at me and raised her glass, to which Meg and I followed suit.

"Speaking of men warming your bed, why aren't you wearing that mini skirt? You've got to display that red bottom of yours if you want a decent man. Unless you prefer the old ones."

"I'm just out for drinks tonight. A man crawling up my skirt is the last thing I want."

"Christine, I am settled down with one man for the rest of my life with two children. I need some entertainment and I can't live through Meg; she's a bit too wild for my tastes. But you, on the other hand, are getting a fresh start, and I would love nothing more than to live vicariously through you."

I was at a loss for words, so I silently drank the rest of my champagne. I felt the limo come to a stop and the driver came round and opened the door.

"Let's hurry up. It's already been a long week and I need to unwind," Meg said, and she trudged into the bar. We found a lone table in the corner of the bar and ordered a round of drinks.

"What's got you down today Meggy?" Jammes asked, knowing full well that Meg despised being called that, and sure enough, she was met with a death stare.

"Firstly, call me that again and they won't find your body in the Thames," she said sternly. "Second, I want to personally strangle the director of the Royal Opera House." Meg, having been a dancer all her life and being trained at the Royal Ballet School, was immediately accepted into the Royal Ballet and is now a soloist in the corps de ballet.

"Why?" I asked, trying to get her spirits up, as Jammes was doing a nice job failing at it. "I thought you landed a good spot in the new production?" La Bayadere, that's what it's called. I'm surprised I even know the name. I became tongue tied when she first told me the name last month.

"I do in the first act. But Madame Giry put me put me in the lead of twenty other girls for the opening scene of the second act. No, she couldn't put me in the pas de trois with Arlene and Michelle; she gave that spot to Natalia. She can't do triple pirouette to save her life. Now I have to do fifty-two arabesques in succession down the stage, but that isn't the problem. It's the fact that whenever someone makes a mistake, Madame Giry," she waved her hands in a frustrated fashion and donned a French accent, "makes us begin from the top. And let me tell you, that Melanie Dolber has the biggest basoomas out of all of us and they weigh her down. The other day she lost her balance during an arabesque because of them and she went right over."

I'll admit, I did laugh a little. It felt good. I expected that when Jammes told me we were going out tonight, all they were going to do was ask about me, so I'm grateful the spotlight isn't on me.

"Couldn't you have talked to this Madame Giry about switching your position with Natalia's? I'm sure if you made the argument that you are the better dancer, she would have given you the spot," Christine tried to rationalise, knowing nothing of ballet.

"Madame Giry would stare daggers at me until they actually came out of her eyes and plunged through my heart. No one questions what she says. She even insists the we all call her 'Madame' just because she is from Paris and she's still stuck in the nineteenth century. Thank God she's been back in Paris the past couple days. I wish she would just stay there. I don't know why on earth the director of the Opera House hired her. She's a loon!"

"Sorry dearest," Jammes patted her shoulder and turned in her chair. "Oy, waiter! Another round of drinks over here!"

Erik took another swig of brandy and refilled his glass. He had once again attempted to compose the ending of his Don Juan Triumphant, but it seemed a higher power condemned him to lose all amounts of inspiration he previously had. For hours he banged away at the piano, but composed nothing of substance.

As this was the last night Nadir and Antoinette would be in Paris, he mused it would be a better idea to have their company than waste away in his music room. It was nearing half past ten when Antoinette announced she would return to the hotel to rest for the trip back to London, and at present, Nadir was sitting lazily on the settee in the parlour smoking a cigar.

"Any progress on that masterpiece of yours?"

Erik growled and finished the rest of his brandy in one gulp. "I'll take that as a 'no' then." He paused for a moment, contemplating his next question so as to not further anger his masked friend. "Do you plan on selling it to the Opera House so it can be made into a production?"

"No, this one is too special for that. There will never be any singer good enough for the standards I hold for this particular piece. Don Juan shall come with me to my grave," he said grimly and moved onto a bottle of whisky. He downed the glass he poured, savoring the way it burned as it went down his throat.

I winced as the tequila seared the back of my throat on the way down, followed by a feeling of weightlessness.

"Don't tell me you can't handle just a tequila sunrise?" Jammes cocked her eyebrow at me. "We've only just begun."

"I dunno…I'm feeling one sheet to the wind already." I turned and looked at Meg. It didn't take long for her to become completely intoxicated and she stumbled her way to the dance floor and was currently grinding against a random male she had found. How is it that I've only had a couple of drinks and I'm already feeling woozy? I didn't even drink them that fast! And why did it burn? Normally I can drink tequila like it's orange juice. Did my miscarriage affect my liver? I need to stop thinking…

"Christine…hello? Earth to Christine!" I snapped out of my pensive state as Jammes waved her hand in front of my face. "You really aren't smashed yet, are you?"

"No," I said, albeit, a bit gravely.

"Are you feeling ok? Normally you're a very happy drunk. I'll slow down the rounds so you don't get overwhelmed this time." She patted my hand and giggled.

"Jammes?" I waited until she looked at me so I knew I had her attention. "Do you ever feel like you know someone but you don't?"

She gulped down the rest of her Guinness before slurring, "Christine, it's called getting old. I run into people I went to school with and I can't remember ever knowing them at all. The alcohol probably doesn't do much in the way of helping either." She hiccoughed and laughed. I knew it was useless talking to her at this point, but I needed to get this off my chest.

She opened another can of Guinness and I continued. "No, you don't get it. When I left the hospital, I stopped at a music shop to pick up a CD that I wanted. But as I went for it, so did someone else. And when our hands met, I felt this electric current go through me. And when I looked at him, I just felt like I knew him. I don't even know his name for Christ's sake! And his voice! It's amazing! He only said a few words to me, but he has the most beautiful voice I've ever heard!"

"You want to shag his brains out don't you?!" She slammed her fists down on the table.

Why I kept prattling on, I have no idea. "No! Jammes, I just said I don't know him!"

"You just went on like a loon about how you did know him!"

"I said I don't know him, but I feel like I do!" I knew I shouldn't have brought this up now.

"Well then you should get to know him better by shagging him!" Her eyes went wide and I thought they were going to pop out of her head. I decided it was for the best not to tell her about the dreams.

He couldn't sleep. It always evaded him somehow. Instead, he lay in bed, fantasizing about how it would feel to have her in his arms as he slept. Or even lying on top of him with her chocolate curls spilling over his chest. He would never have trouble sleeping again!

He didn't even know her and was already thinking about her in his bed! I am a fool. To think someone as beautiful as she could ever want someone so hideous. Not that I'll ever see her again. But one smile from her lush lips or one look from her big, blue eyes, and I would be her devoted slave.

"Enough of this," he said aloud. Erik jumped up from his silky black sheets and grabbed the bottle of brandy he shared with Nadir that evening. Unscrewing the top, he guzzled down the rest of the bottle, enjoying the fiery feeling it created and let sleep take him.

I felt a wave of fire rush down my throat in settle into the pit of my stomach. It constricted tightly, then opened again, and the contents somersaulted. My stomach dropped and I knew what was coming. Running from the table as quickly as possible, I retched the contents of my stomach as soon as I reached the restroom. What on earth had caused that? I sat beside the toilet in deep thought. I'd only had a few drinks and I didn't drink them in rapid succession.

Deciding anywhere was better than a dingy restroom floor, I gathered myself together and left. A young girl came in, she couldn't have been any older than sixteen, and looked at me as if I still had vomit on my face. If only you knew.

I walked by the table and saw that Jammes had passed out, her head on the table. Meg was…only God knows where. I shook Jammes a bit and she stirred with a "Whaa…?" I lifted her up under my arm to support her legs and hailed a cab on the corner. I had the urge to vomit again, but repressed it as I helped Jammes into the cab and told the driver the directions to her house. I made sure she was safely inside before telling the driver to take me home.

I let my thoughts wander. Why am I so changed? What's causing all these surreal dreams? Why do I know so much about wine and art? Why do I suddenly have an appreciation for music? Did God intend for all this to happen? Was I supposed to lose my baby and my marriage? Is it justified somehow? Am I deserving of it?

"Hey! Lady! You gonna pay me or what?" My eyes snapped over to the cab driver. He was looking angrily back at me. I felt sorry for him almost. Who could want a job like this? He wore a baseball cap backwards and I saw a haggardness beneath his wrinkled gray eyes. "We've been sittin' here for two minutes now! The fare comes to £17.56." I dug through my purse, gave him £20, and thanked him before making my way inside.

My last thoughts before sleep claimed me were of him.

A/N: If I didn't write it well enough (it's current;y 11:25 pm and I'm laying in bed typing, so my thoughts might sound clear to me but could really sound like garbage), Christine was affected by Erik's drinking. I was originally going to write Erik getting drunk with Nadir, which would in turn make Christine intoxicated, but that would be horribly OOC and I feel blasphemous for even thinking it. Like I said, I'm not overly impressed with this chapter, so I tried to make up for it by adding some humor. On a more postitive note, I only have a few more weeks of school, then hopefully chapters will come out more often.

EdB