"Oh no. No,no,no,nooo…."
Gerry was still distraught after he had convinced Raoul to leave. The barred door was closed as well as a solid iron door over that. Christine was trying her best to calm him down and understand him.
"Can you explain again? I'm afraid I could not understand you," she gently said, but was obviously afraid and probably would not believe anything he said.
"I said…I was acting in a movie in the year 2004, and—"
"What is a movie?"
He swallowed and struggled to explain, "It's like a play…um…a picture that moves—"
"How fascinating! How does it work?"
He slapped his palm to his forehead. "It's complicated. I don't even know. Anyway, the movie is about everything that has happened since your manager left and you became a star. And one scene where you were little and another where Erik was in a fair. And later after you had died…"
"A play of the future? Written about my life?" Christine gasped, putting her hand up to her lips. "But how?"
"I don't know either, the story isn't supposed to be based on a true story! In my world, you and Erik and Raoul never existed!" Gerry exclaimed. Christine was having trouble comprehending this.
"But we do exist…"
"I see that, I know. As I was saying, I was just shooting a scene—well, rehearsing, if you will—and it was the part where you kissed Erik to save Raoul, and when I opened my eyes, I was here!"
Christine's eyes widened. "So Erik must be…"
"In the future. Well, my present. I have no idea how it happened, or why, but I have to get back. I can't be stuck in the bloody 19th century, let alone in the life of a deformed psycho with a mob out to kill me…I mean, this is impossible! Things like this don't happen! I have to be dreaming, a camera must have blown up and a piece hit me in the head and now I'm imagining all of this…" Gerry nodded, but caught his reflection in a nearby mirror and felt the ruined side of his face. "I hated this thing even when I could take it off at the end of the day…"
"Erik wasn't exactly fond of it either," Christine said, rolling her eyes. She then looked at Gerry. "You sound odd…where are you from?"
"Scotland. Wait…why are you speaking English?"
"I'm not. I don't even know how to."
"But I can understand you, and I sure as hell don't know French," Gerry insisted, then suddenly yawned. "And why am I tired? It was only noon when I was filming…"
"Because it's very late at night here, I suppose. And now you're in this world, in Erik's body," Christine explained, still not sure if she believed this. "Why don't you get some rest? Maybe you'll wake up and be your own self again."
"Yes…maybe…" Gerry nodded, his eye still twitching a little as he got up. They only realized how difficult this would be when they headed towards the same swan bed.
"Erm…is there another bed?" he asked unsurely. Christine shook her head, regretting that she was so exhausted. "I could just…"
"I'll just stay on my side and you stay on your side, how's that?"
/
"I look absolutely absurd."
"You look nice."
"Ridiculous."
"Nice."
"Horrid."
"Handsome."
Erik and Emmy were bickering over the simple jeans and graphic t-shirt she had picked out for him. Earlier, Emmy had convinced Schumacher to cancel the entire day's plans, saying that Gerry was violently ill and that they were early on shooting anyway.
"What kind of trousers are blue and of this material?" Erik barked, flabbergasted at the modern clothing.
"They're called jeans."
"I don't care what they're called! I demand something else! Something respectable, fitting, and black!" he commanded.
"Do you want fries with that…?" Emmy muttered dully as Erik stormed into the separate room to change. His reply was a rather loud growl and clothes being thrown at her.
"Okay, okay, God, I'll get some more! Don't be such a diva!"
Emmy searched through Gerry's acting trailer for anything black. Alas, she found a black t-shirt and dark dress pants. She knocked on the door where Erik was. The door creaked open just enough for a hand to dart out, snatch the clothes, and jerk them back in.
Emmy heard a lot of shuffling and things being knocked over before Erik came out, actually looking pleased.
"Now, I am hungry. Strange, because I never am. I'm sure you're going to show me all the strange foods of your time."
/
"Oh my…well, I see you…ahem, got what you wanted, Erik."
Gerry startled awake with a snort, once again terrified. First, Miranda Richardson—or Madame Giry, rather—was standing at the foot of the bed with a judging expression. Secondly, he was IN the swan bed, AND in a rather awkward position with Christine.
The said lady groaned and rolled over, realized where she was, then yelped, pushing Gerry away. Both were considerably flustered.
Madame Giry looked at both of them, obviously confused.
"How the bloody hell did you get in?" Gerry asked, exasperated.
"Through the mirror, where else?" she replied, even more puzzled.
"But the entrance was blocked—" Christine piped up before being cut off.
"Not your mirror, the one over there," Antoinette Giry sighed, pointing to the right. "Now, I suppose you are happily married? I should hope so, seeing as you are together in this way…"
Christine was about to explain but Gerry nudged her warningly under the covers.
"Of course we are…" he smoothly lied, with the most Erik-like smirk he could muster.
"Well now…I am very happy for both of you then.." Giry said slowly. "But I don't understand. The last time I saw you, you had kidnapped her after she betrayed you in front of a large audience, and—"
"Well—" Christine once again tried and failed at speaking. She was getting tired of being interrupted.
"I apologized for my actions, as did she, and we forgave each other. I convinced her there was nothing to be afraid of," Gerry said quickly. "Now can you please leave my wife and I in peace?"
"Of course," the Madame stammered, backing away hesitantly. "I was just making sure you had not done something you would regret, Erik."
He scoffed and gestured towards Christine. "Oh no…why would I regret something as wonderful as this?"
"I suppose you would not…well then, goodbye."
As soon as they could not hear the lady's footsteps any longer, Christine turned to Gerry.
"I must say, you are a good actor."
"Tis my job," he grinned. There was a pause.
"I thought you said if I stayed on my side of the bed, you'd stay on yours…"
/
Emmy had spent the past half hour watching Erik scarf down food, trying every soft drink and fast food meal he could cram into his mouth.
"When was the last time you ate?" she eventually shrieked after Erik had downed his third burger (this one was with bacon). He turned around and shrugged, slurping on a strawberry smoothie. He licked his lips.
"I don't recall. Like I said, I never ate much then…your Gerry must have had the appetite of an elephant. No matter how much I eat, I'm never full. But how glorious and tasteful these foods are!" he declared, practically diving into a large pack of fries and wolfing them down.
The actress groaned and leaned back in her chair. After a second, she glanced back at him. "Seriously, you should stop. You're going to either throw up or your stomach will explode!"
"Nonsense, my dear. I can assure you my stomach will certainly not burst. I won't even v—," he started to say before a look of horror crossed his face and he keeled over. Emmy moved out of the way in time before grimacing in disgust.
"I told you so…oh God, I can see a whole fry in there."