Quick update again! Woo! OK. I'd like to thank you all for the umpteenth time for the reviews! I have realized, that if you guys keep reviewing the way you are, this will be the most reviews I've ever received for a story! THANKS SO MUCH! I'm so happy you enjoy it, and that you demand these updates, and it just makes my day slightly better.
Also, a little inside on the country choice for Erik and Christine's "vacation". I happen to have a very deep chance of having the pleasure to go to Italy with the marching band, and so, in my own dream world I try to live vicariously through their outting, but I do so hope that I'm able to go to Italy for it would be such an inspiration for me and my music..
Tell me what you think as you always so dutifully do, and read.
Love to you all!
~The Phantoms Flutist~
Chapter 17:
ItalyThe week was concocted of singing and lessons. It was nice, I suppose, it was to keep my mind off of everything else. Erik didn't come back to my room just as he promised, or if he did, I didn't know it, which is what he might be aiming for. I tried to be nice, though I felt dead when being so. He would, at times, fawn over me for quite a while, and I would sit there stiffly, and wasn't in the right heart to put him down. He was just so pitiful, yet inhuman, and it was rather hard to see him as a person like Raoul is.
I'm worn of fighting, of rebelling, and I only want to live like normal people for once, and thrashing against your guardian who unconditionally loved me and whom I denied. He said for me to forget the marriage, and I couldn't. I stared at the ring for hours at a time. Once, I had the heart to pry it off with ice water this time, and it came off. When I happened to look inside of it, my name was engraved on the inside of the ring which meant, also, that he meant to do this loads of time before he actually announced it.
When he saw it off, he spitefully ordered me to put it back on and I gave the excuse that I wanted to fully appreciate it. He, of course, didn't believe me, and went on huffing angrily, and then pardon himself as usual.
It went on like that, nothing more, nothing less, uneventful for when I counted down the hours until we left to embark on the biggest adventure I've ever hoped to be on.
We left very early in the morning to get there the same day. The only unfortunate part of this entire thing is that I've never, in my life that I remember, have been on a plane.
"Just don't think about it," Erik muttered on the car drive there, and I could hardly listen, my heart already fluttering that I may react horribly to the height at which we'd be traveling.
"How long will it be?" I asked as I stepped out of the car, my bags and things over my shoulder.
"Six or seven hours." He answered briskly as we began to walk, keeping a strict eye on me by his side, overwhelmed by the multitude of people we were rushing into. Nobody was less busy as to stare at the strange pairing, and I couldn't care. My mind was fixed on being somewhere I've never been, out of all the things I wanted to do in life, this was definitely one of them. He deserved my many thanks later, I had to remind myself fondly, and I believe that's what he was looking forward to. I had six or seven hours to give up the courage to say so.
But I was in on an unwelcome surprise when we reached the terminal that we would be going out on. He had a private plane. Well, of course he would. With that much money and traveling he would go through, I'm sure he would have a plane. There wouldn't be people on it to occupy their time on staring at the masked man, so that was the utmost thought, I guessed. I could never tell what, exactly, Erik was thinking when he goes through this, so I'm not accurate.
I, myself, didn't know what to think. There wouldn't be people to entertain me. I had books, but that wouldn't be enough...
Getting on the plane seemed to make my stomach do a few flips over and over. It was what I always pictured first-class riding to be; big seats, plasma television and a nicely decorated surrounding, but I pretended not to be so fascinated with it. He helped me onto the plane, grabbing my hand firmly, and telling me reassuring words as to not get sick whilst thousands of feet above ground. There was television, at least, which I hardly paid no mind to, but fascinated all the same, for I haven't seen a television in who knows how long.
Erik took me to my seat, and attempted to help me with the seatbelt, but I shooed him off, annoyed, but looked back to him as he huffed and sat in his own seat and repeated my action.
"How long will it be again?" I asked, resting my head to the back of the seat, and took in a deep breath, to see the sun just peeping above the clouds from where I could see, painting brilliant colors to just touch the sky.
"Six or seven hours, it depends on which airport we'll be landing in." He answered curtly just as the pilot gave the announcement. I sighed and looked out the window, and huffed a deep breath.
"It's best not to think about it." He noted, and I felt his eyes on my back, and I cocked my head to look at him, and he looked suddenly tense, almost nervous just to add something kind. Have I really done that much? "You actually should get used to it as well, if you end up where I'm sure you will."
That was actually... nice. Very nice. He said that so fondly, I smiled, his voice smooth and light, it was like an angel telling me something, and I believed him.
"Traveling the world as I have, you will have audiences on your feet. The angels will weep."
"You really think that?" I interrupted before he went on.
"I'm definitely sure of that. In fact, that is what is to happen... if that's what you want, of course."
"And you're not biased? If you heard me... just randomly, would you still think so?"
"I did hear you randomly." He reprimanded cordially.
"Oh. Right." I replied dimly, remembering that small time on stage when Erik was watching, evidently. "How was I better than the rest...? That was one of my first productions to be in." I recalled.
"You meant what you sang. If you put that into your voice, than it is a thousand times over better than another. Music is just notes and dots on a page if you don't breathe into it... and Christine, that is exactly what you did and what I heard." I was left to silence, and I sat there, staring at him, for his voice was so sweet, that I couldn't imagine what he must have gone through to win this time to say these words to me, for all the bittersweetness in the world was in his voice at that time. I truly had nothing to say. "Your voice speaks to me, Christine, it always has." He said quietly seeing I had no reply still. "We two are very much alike, our own match of hurt in the world, and when you sing to me, it's equivalent..." He went off, looking thoughtfully past me. "It's equivalent to my own, personal angel, singing to me from hell..." Another pause, "To me..."
I stood there, aghast by his emotion that just came from him suddenly, and all I could do was remain speechless, and nothing was heard except the sound of the engines softly.
"And one day, if you wish, I'll let you share it with the world... if you would just sing it to me..."
"Of course..." I replied, knowingly, nodding my head, toying with the ring on my finger. "Yes." I added quietly.
That was good enough for him, for he seemed to smile... just a little, not something cruel, or mocking, it was drastically sweet, and I felt my heart melt into a puddle on the floor, staring at him with such tensity, that it overheated my cheeks which still flamed.
I leaned my head back and looked back out the window, smiling to myself that I was actually comfortable with Erik for once, and that we were at something like a truce if it only lasts these six hours until the plane lands.
I collected my thoughts and feelings... was I falling? I don't think so... I've fallen in love before and it wasn't as strange as this, but it's all I would get if I were to be falling for Erik right now. All it was is... a mood change, desperation... and he was my angel. Yes... An angel. A guardian angel, if you will. Why else would God have brought him into my life if it wasn't to torture me with his pitifulness? Out of the millions of foster parents in the world, why else would God have dragged him here if he already seen me?
Where would I be if I didn't have Erik, anyway? At a foster home, as I've said, ruined and torn away from the world, if not already but he's already making it up by bringing me to Italy with him.
No... it couldn't be right. This was wrong... I wasn't supposed to... love him. I can't be. I mean if I was, than I wouldn't be that uncomfortable with him after all this time, would I? When I met Raoul, it was like I've met him a thousand times over, as children and growing up together like brother and sister until... until he kissed me. I felt nothing but hate when Erik kissed me. Therefore, it can't be right.
I let out an aggravated gasp, which seemed to also pull him out of his thought as well.
"What is it, love?" He asked.
"It's... nothing, just thinking, you know..." I huffed, and went back to looking out the window, watching the clouds go by, as the sun rose above the earth, to take its position.
The rest of the trip was concocted of me reading, listening to the radio. Bored, out of my mind for at least an hour, I talked with Erik on little, trivial things, debating, until he fell into a story that lasted for about half an hour... He said it with great detail, and such a thrilled tone throughout the entire statement, that it kept me interested the entire time. It was about his time in Italy as a child, studying architecture. I asked quite a few questions, and he gladly answered them. But the ending... the ending, I'd rather not think about.
It came to the moment after the story, that I begged Erik to let me watch the television. It took a lot, unsurprisingly enough, but he let me after the third annoying whine. I watched some movie channel, one dramatic movie after another, using the headset given to each seat. Erik paid no attention, writing something down on some notepad, something I couldn't see. Carelessly, I eventually fell asleep during a melodramatic soap opera-ish show after changing the channel over and over.
I was awakened by the pilot announcing that the plane has finally landed, and Erik shaking my shoulder.
"Time to get up," He whispered into my ear, and helped me out of the seat I was in for the past six or so hours.
I opened my eyes wide, coming to reality for a second and I realized I was actually in Italy! Well, out the window, of course wasn't much for it was a small airport, with people all over the place, but it was enough for the second so I wasn't overrun with too many things at the same time.
He helped me with my bags, and carried his own at the same time, still as tense as before which was quite odd for where could I go in a country overseas without a clue at where we are at? Well... where are we anyway?
"Where are we in Italy?" I asked, tugging on his coat to get his attention.
"Florence," He answered under his breath, his eyes still searching the crowd nervously. I nodded and walked on, fixing the position of the bags on my shoulder, and walking behind him intently, noticing once more that nobody was stopping to stare at the masked man, all speaking in their native language which was like a different air already.
Erik spoke on his own cell phone in Italian, I supposed, with an angry tone. I looked up curiously as he looked down to me, taking my free hand and we walked out to the outside entrance where a circle of cars were picking up or dropping off, and somewhere in there was a black limousine and where we were heading.
A man waited there, putting his own cell phone into his pocket, and looked to me, then to Erik, and smiled, speaking in his own language with a light tone, and Erik replied fondly, shaking his hand, and the man opened the door to let me in, and I was followed by Erik.
I remained silent as the two men conversed, looking out the window as we took off to see the highly decorated and adorned city that is called Florence. Erik leaned over and began pointing out different chapels, and museums. A large tower stood over an enormous courtyard we drove through, people gathering around in lines, tourists like us, waiting to get inside.
"Giotto's Bell Tower," He answered at my curiosity, and we went on to more little shops, cafes and restaurants, and a few hotels but none of them we stopped at.
I was awestruck by the difference between America not to care that we were sitting for at least another half hour, for it was as busy as an American city on a weekend, stopping, waiting for people to pass by, looking at us strangely, already cast out of the society without having to step foot on it.
We reached a large hotel, with my little knowledge of Italian, only knowing that half-French part of the language in itself. Erik helped me out of the car and grabbed my bags for me to carry, and held the heavier ones.
The driver handed to Erik what looked like to be a hotel key, and we went inside to the magnificent building, what might have been a mansion before made into a tourist trap. People now were staring, not being in such a hurry here and it only caused for my heart to speed and my cheeks to flush. I tried to ignore it as we walked up the marble staircase with lamps on both sides of the railing, all golden.
We walked the corridors for what seemed to be a long time, and they reminded me of Erik's mansion labyrinthine-styled and elegant. We reached an oak door with the number label and Erik put down the bags and unlocked the door, opening it wide for me whilst handing me my bags.
"This is your room," He announced, showing me inside, and placed my bags on the bed, as I looked around curiously. A television was in front of the large, comfy-looking bed with a beautifully designed quilt over it, the walls were a deep red, and the art on them was very different from American paintings.
"And I'll be next door if you need anything. I suggest you rest for a while, for we will be leaving in two hours."
"Where will we be going?" I asked, tilting my head to the side.
"You'll see," he said lightly, and handed me the key to my room, and walked out through the door adjacent through the one I came in on.
Sighing to myself, I threw my body onto the bed and looked onto the lavish ceiling which would be an interesting sight to gaze at in the night when trying to sleep. I don't think I will be able to sleep, now that I think on it.
I began to unpack my things, placing it in the dresser drawers that were offered so I wouldn't dig through my bag every time I need something, and I hummed to myself. I pulled out the dress that I delicately packed in another bag, for Erik told me to bring at least two formal outfits, I questioned why, and he didn't give me an answer, of course. Trying to surprise me again, which wouldn't last long-the one thing that changed me by being with Erik for this extended amount of time is that I no longed enjoy pleasant surprises lest they be unpleasant.
I rested with turning on the television, and switched it to English subtitles so I wouldn't spend hours lingering on the soap opera's cliché plot. I leaned against a fluffy pillow, watching the television like a child who has been denied her favorite toy, and got annoyed by having to read the entire thing after an hour, and went on taking a shower, for I felt hot and bothered.
After those inconsequential events, I was bored. Hotel rooms aren't fun. I knocked on the door Erik disappeared on, and he answered to come in, which I did reluctantly and stood there, leaning against the door frame tiredly.
He turned from the small desk to look at me, after writing something. I tilted my head in chance that I'd be able to see what he was working on.
"What is it?" he asked, sounding bothered as well.
"Can I walk around the hotel? Please?" I asked.
"No." He answered simply, and turned back around. I groaned... of course he'd say no.
"Please?" I asked again.
"No."
"Why not?" I hedged, crossing my arms.
"Because." He waved me off. "Go read... something."
"I already read two books today, Erik..." I moaned, sounding melodramatic.
"Read a third." He was becoming annoyed... maybe...
"Why can't I? It's not like I have some place to go, I'm not even in the same country as where I could run off. Are you seriously that paranoid?"
"I said no, now go do something."
"There's nothing to do! Oh, please, please, please... Come on! You seriously don't think you'll lock me in here this entire week giving me nothing to do while you're out doing whatever! Honestly..."
He grunted, and then turned back to look at me, possibly arching a brow.
"Fine," He said, looking over my composure in his doorway, groping against the door frame. "Come back before six, though, to get dressed. Promise?"
"Yeah, promise!" I said, excitedly, and turned to shut the door, when I felt Erik grip my wrist before it shut on him.
"God, you're quick..." I hesitantly smiled dumbly up to him.
"You will come back, right?" He asked imploringly.
"Erik..." I grunted, thoroughly annoyed myself. "Once more... where the hell do I have to go? You're my only ticket back to home, so really it'd be stupid to leave. You don't think I'm stupid, do you?" I asked slowly, and he let go of my wrist, letting me ease back into regular composure.
"Right," He replied, and backed out of the way. "Enjoy yourself and don't get lost." He said dryly
"I probably will, but don't worry too much... I know enough Italian to find my way back." I hinted and retained myself from bouncing up and down, and swiftly left the room.
The hotel was huge.