Disclaimer:It hasn't changed. You all know the drill. And any song lyric used is obviously property of ALW
A/N:A quick warning...this story is flashback central. I had two, but they evolved into larger scenarios. If you don't like flashbacks, too bad. I'm a fan of them. Enjoy!
"You looked like a natural," Erik said as soon as they were seated again in the cafeteria.
Christine took a bite of her sandwich and smiled. "Thanks. Miss J is a great teacher."
Erik nodded. "Indeed, she is." He studied the girl before him. What secrets did those eyes hide from him? "How did you end up with Antoinette?" he asked, hating himself for changing the subject. Never in his years with the woman, did he remember her taking in a young girl. Yet, at the same time, something in the back of his mind was telling him that he already knew about the girl.
Christine was silent, then took a deep breath. "Meg and I, like our parents, were the best of friends. When the pair of them moved here, we worked out a schedule. We would fly to New York every February break, and them to Paris every April. Four years after they moved, I was scheduled to fly in February for the first time by myself. My parents were staying behind, due to a gig that had been set up for them. I didn't learn until my second day with the Girys that my parents had been in an accident. In their rush to get from the airport to the opera house, their car slid off an icy road and into a tree."
Erik's facade crumbled, as he took in her teary eyes. Something about those damned eyes caused memories to come flooding back to him.
"Erik. This is my best friend Chris. She's staying with us for the week," a twelve-year old Meg informed his sixteen-year old self.
Erik looked at the girl, then turned back to his piano. "Cool. Just don't touch my piano. If I find any finger prints on it, I'll Punjab you."
Meg laughed and nudged her friend. "He doesn't mean it. That just means he's got a crush on you."
Christine smiled and turned to leave with Meg, taking one last glance at the teen boy. "It's was nice to meet you, Erik."
"Erik. I need you to come home now. There's been an accident with Chris' parents. I'm afraid...they didn't make it. I need you to watch the girls while I make the...arrangements," a solemn Antoinette told a nineteen-year old Erik over the phone, begging him to leave Juliard during his winter break.
"Antoinette...I need to work out some kinks on my opera that I've been working on. Can't you get a neighbor to watch them?" a stubborn Erik asked, not wanting to waste his time with a couple of fifteen-year olds.
"Erik," she started firmly, "the poor girl has lost her parents. She has no one to care for her. I need to fly to Paris and make the arrangements. When everything is set I will send for the three of you. For once in your life, think of something other than your music!"
Erik sighed. He knew what it was like to have no one there for you. "Alright. I'll be home by 10 at the latest."
"Erik?" a fifteen-year old Christine asked, as she padded into the dim music room.
Erik looked up from his work and gave the girl a small smile. "Nightmares again?" he asked, as the girl trudged over to him. Ever since she had heard the news, Christine had been plagued by nightmares of her parents' death."
She nodded and sat next to him on the bench, never touching the bench. "I miss them so much," she said, a tear slipping down her cheek.
He brushed it away and wrapped an arm around her. If someone had walked into the room, they would've deemed Erik a crazy man. He was not normally one to show affection, but he seemed to have a connection with the young girl. "None of that," he said tilting her chin up. "We can't have your pretty eyes marred, now can we?" he said, letting some feeling slip past his rock-solid barrier.
Christine have him a weak smile and bit her lip. "Erik?"
He looked at her, sensing something in her tone. "Yes, dear."
"Can you teach me how to sing?" she asked pointing at the piece of music he had been working on.
Erik smiled and nodded. He turned to his music, but something made him turn back to her. In the few days since the deaths, he had watched Christine grow up; emotionally and physically. When the girl first started visiting, he could've cared less about her. But now? Now he felt something stirring inside of him. "Chris?" he asked, then watched her take her eyes off his music. "I have a question."
Christine smiled. "And I might just have an answer."
Taking a deep breath, he met her lips with his. After a few seconds or so, he pulled back. "What would you say, if I did that?"
Christine blushed and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "Well...seeing as how you already did it, I can't say no. But I can kiss you back," saying this, she softly pulled his head down and kissed him.
After a minute or two, they pulled apart. "So..uh...lets get some singing started, "Erik said, running a hand through his hair.
Christine laughed and gave his hand a squeeze. "How's this piece sound?" she asked, not familiar with the tune.
Erik started to play and sing the male part, Christine joining in later. After that night, the two were inseparable. Never once in their short relationship did Christine ask about the mask.
"Erik? Are you okay?" Christine asked, waving a hand infront of his face.
Erik blinked and his eyes grew wide. "No more talk of darkness. Forget these wide...eyed..." he trailed off, as a stunned Christine stared at him.
"How...who..what are you playing at?" she asked, her lip quivering. Even though she couldn't recall knowing that song, something inside of her was aching form it. Without waiting for an answer, she fled the room and left a helpless Erik watching after her.
One hour later, Erik found himself at the wrath of one Megan Eliana Giry.
"What the hell did you do to Chris'?! She missed the ballet lecture and you know that she would never do that!"
Erik stared down at his glass of scotch. "I remembered her, Meg," he said in a quiet tone.
Meg sighed and sat on the arm of his chair. "You were the love of her life, or so she thought. You would never open up to her."
"She was only 15, damnit! What was I supposed to do? There was no way I could give her the life she needed." He slammed his glass down on the table.
"She just wanted to sing. It was all she ever wanted to do, not dance. You gave her that chance then, and you still can now," Meg said, laying a hand on his arm.
Erik shook his head. "She wanted her parents. She wanted something that I could never replace! I had to leave before she had realized how stupid she had been!" he yelled.
Meg, used to these outbursts, didn't budge. "All she wanted from you was love. She finally had someone to care, and you left," she said, leaving the room.
Silence would not be found in the room. As soon as Meg left, Sara came charging into the room.
"Erik Samuel Roberts! What did you do to that poor child?!"
Erik ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "Are you all lined up outside, waiting to have a go at me?"
"I have a crying girl in my office, and all you can do is joke?!" Sara was outraged, to say the least. Christine had come stumbling into her office, mumbling Erik's's name. Not being able to get anything out of the girl, she had decided to go to the root of the problem.
Erik refilled his glass. "You wouldn't understand it, Sara. She blamed herself for her parents' death. If she hadn't insisted on flying to New York, they wouldn't have been in a rush. I was just trying to help her cope."
Sara's eyes darkened. "The only reason I'm not beating you to a bloody pulp, is that Antoinette probably wants the honor of that." she turned on her heel, but stopped before she left the room. "And next time you want to tell me that I don't understand her, remember that I was the one who wanted her mother at her Juliard audition. I wanted her there so bad, she got into a car accident. Maybe you'll remember that next time, if you're not too deep into yourself."
Erik sighed as she left. Miles was going to kill him, when he found out that he had made Sara cry. Taking another sip of his drink, he watched the pendulum in the clock swing.
Not surprisingly, his door slammed open. "If you weren't twenty-three years-old, I most likely would tan your hide," Antoinette declared, her eyes burning into his. "What did you do to the girl?" she demanded, grabbing the glass from him.
Erik's looked up at her, his eyes slightly glassy. "I remembered her, okay? She was the one memory I tried my hardest to forget about, yet I still remembered her. And, stupidly, I made the mistake of seeing if she remembered me too."
She frowned down at him. "You were young, and so was she. The pair of you didn't think. And then you just up and disappeared!"
Erik clenched his fist. "I was nineteen. I knew better. I had to leave before she realized the mistake she had made."
Antoinette raised a brow. I was only talking about her falling in love with you. Why do I feel as if something else transpired?" she asked, her knowing eyes gazing at him.
His jaw twitched. He knew he was in deep trouble. "Why doesn't she remember me?" he asked, trying to change the subject.
She sighed. There was no way to make him feel any worse than he already did. "After you left, she stayed in her room for days. She wouldn't go to school or out with Meg. The only way we could help was to take her to a hypnotist." At her own words, Antoinette winced.
Erik's eyes darkened. "Why would you do that to her?"
Antoinette stood firm. "It's not like you were doing anything to help. You left without leaving a word of goodbye and, next thing we knew, your name was tied to a record label."
Erik stood up."She was fifteen, and I nineteen! What else was I supposed to do?! I ruined her and she didn't realize. I was too bull-headed to stop myself before anything happened! I couldn't replace her parents, nor could I give her the love she needed."
"So you felt it better to just disappear? Erik, as stupid as she may have been, she loved you. That was the only true thing she knew at that point." Antoinette turned to leave the room. "It was your mask, wasn't it? You didn't want to open up to her. She never asked any questions, yet that wasn't enough for you. You wouldn't let her love you." With that, she left the room.
Erik stared out the window. She was right, really. He hadn't wanted to open up to her, so he shoved her away. He didn't believe that anyone was capable of loving him for the person that he was. "Anywhere you go, let me go too. Christine, that's all I ask of you," he whispered, as a tear slid down his unmasked cheek.