A/N: Thank you for the encouraging feedback! This chapter is a little bit longer and I promise to put the next chapter up either later today or tomorrow. Time to heat up the plot a little. Thank you Halley for a great job and please don't forget to review!
Chapter 14: Trouble at the Gala
This is very very bad.
Stephanie forced a smile as she and Etienne walked down the stairs of the Populaire. The patrons and patronesses were staring at them as they descended; making Stephanie's stomach churn as bad memories of her childhood were floating back-- the name-callings with the gasping and snickering of her one brown and olive green eye. All of these prissy aristocrats were mocking her, she was sure of it. They were condemning her before being introduced, they were—
"Stephanie, are you all right?" Etienne's soft spoken question snapped her from the self-inflictions. His penetrating gaze didn't hide the concern as she swallowed hard and nodded.
"F-fine. Honestly." Her eyes widened once she realized he had addressed her by her name, not the formal title he had insisted upon. Her questioning countenance went ignored as Etienne meandered through the crowd.
He mentally berated himself for the slipped use of her first name. It was an intimate acknowledgement that should be reserved for an intimate relationship, which he did not share with her. But he couldn't help it. Her name rolled off his tongue as easily and sweetly as honey, warming his heart.
No! Remember, she doesn't care a fig about you. And you're supposed to be pushing such frivolous feelings away. She belongs to M. Shaw, do not forget.
Etienne's features hardened just as his heart did. Remembering what wasn't his and never will be did the trick. Clasping his hand over hers on his arm, Etienne practically dragged her to where he could see his father and the de Chagnys.
Erik sighted them and grinned broadly. "Ah, here they are!"
Meg's face illuminated with girlish joy as she greeted Etienne, kissing him once on both cheeks. She turned to Stephanie as a startle flashed in her eyes. Quickly catching herself, she smiled cheerfully and repeated the same gesture. The quick welcome took Stephanie by surprise as it took her a while to register that this was Meg Giry, Little Giry, the former ballet rat. Though, not ballet rat anymore but a dignified Comtess.
She was wearing a lovely salmon-colored satin gown with a matching bow on the bodice; ears and fingers glittering with fanciful stones. Like her best friend, Meg still had the same youthful appearance with little signs of aging. Her curly blonde locks glowed and her baby blue eyes held nothing but friendliness as she did her own survey of the young woman.
"A pleasure, Mlle Larson," Meg beamed. "I'm Comtess de Chagny, but Meg will do. This is my husband, the Comte." She motioned to the man standing beside her.
"And you may call me Raoul as well, mademoiselle," he told her, bending down to kiss the back of her hand. "We're all friends here."
Stephanie's bias opinion of de Chagny didn't alter. He was still the fop that tried to steal Christine from her rightful love, even though he married her friend. And it was obvious he was trying to retain the boyish looks by dressing in younger colors, his light peppered hair cut in the same style as Etienne's.
"It's nice to meet you both," Stephanie smiled, bowing her head and placing her hand behind her back to wipe the kiss off. Erik caught the action and stifled the chuckle. He was glad to see his friend's feelings were the same as his.
Etienne witnessed the exchange between his father and Stephanie, his brow furrowed in envy. He wished it was he who was sharing that look with her, not his father. Calm yourself. You don't care remember?
It didn't help that his godmother saw the possessiveness that flashed in his eyes and she winked knowingly to him. Meg recognized that look quite well. She had seen it for years on Erik's face when it came to his wife. Like father, like son, she thought and giggled to herself.
"Erik was telling us that you're a daughter of a former pupil, newly arrived from New York City. Is this your first trip to Paris?" Raoul asked.
Stephanie nodded in an affirmative. "It is. So far I'm enjoying myself."
"As you should. How long will you be here under Erik's tutelage?"
"I don't kn—what?" Stephanie looked over to her friend, who sheepishly smiled.
"Actually, Comte, it's my son who is doing the honors," Erik corrected.
Etienne stared at him, mouth agape. "I am?" Raoul lifted his brow at his nephew causing him to repeat again, "I am." What in the world are you doing, Father?
Stephanie's thinking was the along the line as Etienne's, but with other additional phrases that would probably corrupt the little group.
Knowing he was going to be cursed for this, Erik continued. "Yes, Mlle Larson has a splendid voice and I would have been her tutor, but ashamedly, I confess, I do not have the time to take on a pupil. Etienne, however, expressed how he would like to take on a student and with his opera almost finished…"
"Pardon, Papa, but the opera isn't," Etienne interrupted. "My muse… has unexpectedly deserted me. I'm afraid for the purpose of a more worthy musician." The neutrality in his tone and shifting gaze to Stephanie made her a little uncomfortable, for reasons she didn't know.
"Then all the reason to have that student," Raoul said. "Wonderful and perfect timing too. Mlle Larson, if you haven't known, I'm putting on a Masquerade ball in honor of Erik Destler for his work and accomplishments to the theatre. I would have asked Christine, but with you learning under the Destlers, I would be pleased if you would sing for us."
"S-sing?" she choked. "I-I"
"She will be glad to," Erik answered for her.
Stephanie and Etienne snapped their heads to the former Phantom, one murderous look and the other suspicious.
"Then it's settled. Thank you Mlle Larson," Raoul happily said as she was busy contemplating killing Erik in a million different ways—very painful deaths.
At that moment, Christine appeared. Noting the unpleasant and sour dispositions of Stephanie and her son, she raised her brow in her husband's direction where he mouthed "later". Judging from the looks of the young couple it wasn't anything good and she smelled a rotten Phantom, which she didn't have to wait for long.
"A marvelous job Christine! But, I fear you will have a rival in the making with Mlle Larson. She has agreed to sing at the ball for your husband," Raoul informed her.
"Really?" The singer shot a look at Erik. "Interesting." That explains the looks.
"Oh yes! Mlle Larson and Etienne will make a fine team," Meg added.
The petite brunette's eyebrows both rose into her forehead. "Etienne?" He has our son involved too? Oh wait until the night is over…
To break up the tension, Christine averted the conversation. "Meg, Raoul where's Annette?"
"Ill unfortunately," Meg replied. "But she sends her blessings and love."
"I'm sorry to hear. Perhaps another show then?" Christine went on.
Both parents nodded. "She wouldn't miss it for the world. If you excuse us." Raoul and Meg said their good-byes and left to converse with some other friends. Stephanie let out a whoosh of air and whirled on Erik with a torrent of force.
"Why the Hell did you do that! I can't sing!"
"Yes Erik, why did you do that?" Christine crossed her arms over and glared at the man she loved with all of her heart, though right now she wanted to hit him upside the head.
He sighed. "I had to. Before any of you showed up, your friend didn't think that any ward of mine, except you, could sing."
"What? Oh that's pathetic Erik," Stephanie muttered.
Erik sent her a reproachful look. "It's true. He believes I was lucky with Christine. That damn fop questions my abilities all the time and I'm tired of it. Together we will prove him wrong."
"Um, wrong," the future young woman spat. "I refuse to do this! I can't sing and I won't put myself through the embarrassment."
"You can and you will," Erik stiffly responded. "The ball won't be for another several months and you have plenty of time to learn to be decent."
"I can't believe you!" Stephanie groaned, shaking her head. "Who cares? I'm not doing this."
"If you don't then you will blow your cover!" he hissed.
"I won't. I'll say I came down with something."
"You'll sing!"
"Why I outta—"
"Enough!" cried Christine. Pointing her finger at Erik, she said, "You're in big trouble mister. We'll discuss this at home." And then to her quiet son, "And you, you take Stephanie home now. Not another word will be spoken about this until the morning."
"Yes Maman," Etienne murmured obediently, gently taking Stephanie's arm. When they were out of earshot, Etienne tossed a last glance over to his parents in time to see his mother waving her arms animatedly and his father with a stubborn set façade.
This will not end well, he thought. Stephanie was silently fuming and he was doing his best to quickly get them out of there with little trouble, but was stopped by a couple girls Etienne was forced to keep in company. Of all the inopportune times…
"Etienne," a raven-haired girl of eighteen called. "Your mother was fabulous. And your father… what words can describe his genius?"
"Oh yes!" agreed the short redhead, who Etienne grudgingly had to listen to hours of worthless gossip of women. "But they don't compare to your works."
"Suck ups," mumbled Stephanie, deserving a pinch on her arm by Etienne.
"Katherine, Claire it's lovely to see you again and I'm glad you enjoyed the opera, but my guest and I are…"
"We're leaving because I'm drunk and grouchy and plan on maddeningly making out with him in the back of the horse carriage. Have a nice day!" Stephanie interjected with a sweet politeness and valley girl accent that caused the girls' mouths to drop and Etienne's face to color. "Come, Etienne dear!" she crooned, pulling on his arm.
Reaching outside, Stephanie burst out laughing breaking away from her escort's hold. With his visage still reddened (and heart racing from her brazen language), Etienne sternly enquired in a brusque manner, "What was the meaning of that?"
Between giggles, she chortled, "Hey tonight turned out to be a disaster and what better way to end it by adding on to the damage?" When he didn't respond, Stephanie pursed her lips together and sighed. "You are way too tight Destler. You need to loosen up greatly."
Glaring, Etienne replied, "Do you know what you just done? Those girls are the daughters of—"
Stephanie flapped her hand, not paying attention. "Yadda yadda. This is what I mean. At least your father knows how to lighten up and have fun."
Growing more agitated by her nonchalance and infuriating attitude, Etienne snarled. "Maybe I would if you weren't so damn foolish!"
Impishly smirking, Stephanie clicked her tongue. "Why do you care so much? Geez, with all that anger entrapped in you you're a walking heart attack. As of now, I'm already ruined with Erik's stupidity and you're falling not far behind. The only decent thing to do is laugh a little and prayed that Raoul gets struck down with sudden amnesia."
His lips curled slightly but quickly set back firmly. "Mlle Larson, this isn't something to be dismissed as easily as you are doing. What you just done was grave. Do you know how fast this will travel? I wouldn't be surprised if the whole house knows by now!"
"And if they did? Big deal. If there's one thing I noticed about you is this: you worry too much about what society thinks than what Etienne does. See how crazy it's making you." To prove her point, she scrunched her face similarly to his. "I told this to one Destler before and I'll say it again: Relax. Smile. And laugh until your guts spill."
The image had Etienne frown as to how such action could do that but disregarded it. "I'm afraid you don't see what I mean."
"Oh but I do and I'm telling you to forget them. You're intelligent enough to not allow some ninny to control you. And reacting like this from what I said shows what a slave to society you've become. Don't like it, then tough rocks. But that's what you're doing. Believe me, I went down that road once and I hated it. Trying to be accepted in a world that doesn't understand isn't the way to go and I learn my lesson the hard way until I met Erik." And Dan, she added silently.
Etienne didn't have to know that there was another. But he did from the distant look in her eyes. He gritted his teeth as the unspoken name laid between them. I bet he's as relaxed as what she talked about. He probably could be laughing with her in my place.
The notion of it made Etienne sick to his stomach. Perhaps she was right on some level, but if he were such a slave to society then he would have married straight away to some idle-minded girl and wouldn't be in the situation he was in. Mentally shaking his head, Etienne knew that she was partially wrong and was satisfied with that feeling. But the haunting ideal of Dan Shaw bothered him and for the first time Etienne truly wanted to prove he was the better one.
How to accomplish that I do not know. Maybe for her benefit I should try and 'loosen up'.
Etienne smiled and let out a throaty chuckle. "I daresay you're quite right about this evening. Though, what a scandal it would be if we were caught in an uncompromising position."
Her brow arched. Did he make a joke?
Judging by the curving of his lips, Stephanie realized he indeed made a joke. Lightly chuckling, she took his hand as he helped her into the hansom.
As the carriage was pulling away, neither had noticed the shadow watching.
TBC…