A/N: And I'm back, my darling readers and lurkers! University stays sucking out my soul, so I'm trying to update whenever I can. Please enjoy! Trigger warning: some mention of sexual abuse, language, and drug use.

…

Midnight Sky

Instead of simply descending the glass staircase like a mere mortal, Christine slung one leg over the bannister, her blue-black wings allowing her to keep a flawless balance upon the narrow beam. As she slid all the way down, the ragged ends of her wings began to bleed, leaving a blackened trail of blood that dripped from each translucent step, marring their shimmering surfaces. She strode across a plush scarlet rug, making her way back into the kitchen, her mouth watering at the idea of squeezing more information about Erik out of Eleanor…mixed with the pungent, all consuming need for another drink. Christine lifted her chin haughtily, running tingling fingers through the sides of her hair. She entered the kitchen with a large smile plastered across her face, and Eleanor immediately looked up from where she knelt, her hands covered in rubber yellow gloves.

"My dear, you look…" Eleanor rose slowly, her eyes wide at the woman who stood before her. Christine giggled, sliding into her seat at the island, sipping from the glass that Eleanor had refilled. A cloud of worry passed over Eleanor's features, and she pulled off her gloves, pressing her belly into the ledge of the island.

"Christine," Eleanor pursed her lips, shaking her head sadly. "Your pupils are almost hiding the blue of your eyes. Tell me you didn't…" her voice broke off, clutching the end of the counter with trembling hands. "Please tell me you didn't use anything that was…"

Christine cocked her head. "Eleanor, there's nothing to worry about. Erik told me I could use whatever was in the medicine cabinet." She smiled wider, showing both rows of white teeth to counter Eleanor's perplexed expression.

Eleanor paused before turning back toward the sink, forgetting her gloves as she sprayed a bit of bleach onto the marble countertop. "For your sake, I hope what you're saying is true. Erik doesn't…well, he doesn't like anyone rummaging around in his room. Or bathroom. I can count how many times he's asked me to clean in there…once after the first night he moved in, and a couple days ago…god, it was trashed," she fanned her face with a hand, continuing to scrub the counter with the other. "But he warned me not to touch the medicine cabinet. I hope there wasn't some…misunderstanding between you two. Because if you went in there without his permission," she sighed, shaking her head yet again. "He has quite the temper."

"Oh, I love a man with a good temper. Come on, Eleanor, I'm not a thief. I can buy anything I want, any time," Christine crooned, shivering delightfully as she felt her wings expand, pulling at the muscles between her shoulder blades. "I'm famous." Normally she wouldn't dare utter those words to anyone, but in this instance, her high carried her much farther than she dreamt it might, and the words rolled off of her tongue like a passionate kiss.

"Famous?" Eleanor seemed intrigued, although her eyes were still filled with worry. "Oh my…now that doesn't seem like the type of woman Erik would be interested in! Although I've only known the man for about a week, but…he is very, oh, how should I put this; he is a very private man."

Christine downed the rest of the glass, and tapped the rim with a finger. "Meaning what exactly?"

"Well, for starters, he went off on a young lady that…that stayed the night. I think she must have tried recording something on her phone, and he…he didn't take that very well. I could hear him screaming at her from all the way down here. I almost thought I might have to call the police…but god, if I had, he probably would have fired me!"

"Maybe he doesn't want anyone to know he's a sadist," Christine shrugged, leaning forward to snatch the half-filled decanter of liquor. "He has ropes tied to the bedposts in his room…and I found blood on the sheets. Oh, and I can't forget the mirror that's hung right above the bed!" Christine giggled to herself, absentmindedly touching her own wrists. "What I'd give for him to tie me down…he's very handsome. And sweet…he sung to me last night. Down here, in the living room."

Eleanor's face grew pale, and she pursed her lips, shaking her head. "Christine, my dear…I would not repeat that to anyone. Not anyone! You don't know what he's capable of. You don't know how violent he can be…"

Christine filled her glass, her wings fluttering while bleeding down her back, an inky cascade of sin that poured out from her flesh. "I'm not afraid of him," she said through a grin, drumming her fingertips on the surface of the island.

Eleanor let out a long sigh, giving Christine a saddened smile. "I hate saying this, my dear, but this is one man that you should very much be afraid of. No matter how brave you may feel."

"Eleanor, I'm not afraid of anything. I perform in front of thousands of people. I even write my own songs," she lied, sipping the bitter amber liquid with dried lips. "I fell into his rosebush, see, that's why I'm covered in bandages…he took care of me last night. And he didn't have to…"

"He might have a soft spot for strays," Eleanor murmured, eyeing the spotted beast, Leia, as she stretched out in a warm ray of sunlight. Christine laughed, shoving a hand underneath her chin. "Tell me, does he…have women over often? Does he ever sing to them?"

"My dear, I wouldn't have the faintest idea what he does during the night…all I do is clean while he's at work."

"What does he do for work? And do you know what time he usually gets home?"

Eleanor shifted her feet uncomfortably. "I don't have the faintest idea what he does for work. But I do know he's constantly working, even a couple early mornings when I arrive for cleaning. Sometimes I doubt the man even goes to sleep."

Christine licked her lips that were pleasantly numb. "So would it be safe to say he comes home late-evening? Probably around when the sun sets?"

"Yes, if I had to guess then that would most certainly be it. But I can't guarantee anything, dear…just promise me one thing. Promise me if he starts to get angry with you, that you'll leave immediately…I understand you're a courageous young lady, but from what I heard the other day…he might hurt you. Physically…and hell, even mentally…"

Christine stood up from the chair, nodding enthusiastically to Eleanor's warning. "Of course I'll leave," she lied again, giving Eleanor a warm, toothy smile. She padded out of the kitchen toward the front door, making sure she didn't lock eyes with the dog that was most certainly watching her every move. She pulled the heavy front door open, turning back to smile at Eleanor again. "It was a pleasure meeting you. I hope I'll see you again!"

The door shut softly as Christine slid into the thick morning air, still barefoot and dressed in the dark baggy sweat top and bottoms. Eleanor bit the inside of her lip, pulling the yellow gloves back on to continue scrubbing the sink. "God help her," she whispered to herself, her mind still plagued with the distant rasp of Erik's screaming, and the pleading and whimpering of the other woman. "God save her poor, shattered little soul."

...

Christine lounged on the magenta couch in Athena's living room, scanning through her phone nonchalantly. Athena wore her blonde and purple braids in a loose bun at the nape of her neck, her dark skin glistening with the aftermath of a lush, eucalyptus infused shower. Several maids surrounded them noiselessly, stuffing various pieces of rubbish and empty liquor bottles into black trash bags. The entire house was quiet; a shell of its former, decadent self. The only sounds that could be heard now were the movement of the silent maids, and the large waterfall that trickled down the smooth, inside wall.

Athena sat in a leather armchair next to the couch, eyeing Christine carefully as she puffed on a narrow joint. "I can't believe you're planning on going back there," she huffed, closing her eyes as she expelled a cloud of smoke. "The man is obviously not right in the head, Christine…I mean, it's cool that he took care of you, great, even…but the housekeeper seems like she knows him, at least a little bit. You're willingly going to put yourself in danger? What if he's a serial killer? Some sort of psycho? Who else leaves blood to linger on bed sheets? Disgusting," Athena shook her head, tucking a stray lavender braid behind her ear. She passed the joint to Christine's extended fingers, staring at the crusty tendrils of her grimy red hair that was pressed into a pillow. "And honestly, you're filthy. If you're going to go over, you need to shower and put a little makeup on. You can borrow my stuff upstairs. If I can't change your mind, I'm at least going to make sure you look decent."

Christine turned her head to look at Athena, her eyes filled with a garish excitement. "Oh, you're just a doll. My perfect Athena."

Athena rolled her eyes as Christine puffed on the joint. "You're only sweet to me when you're high. It didn't even used to be like this…don't you remember? We used to have so much fun…without any of this shit. And now, it's like…I don't know. You don't even come see me that much anymore."

"You know I'm busy, and Jack makes sure I never get any down time. He's obsessed with me," Christine sighed, handing the joint back to Athena. "He called me like twenty times last night."

Athena paused, reaching for her glass of red wine that sat on the coffee table. "He's your manager, Christine…he's literally responsible for you. And if you hadn't disappeared last night at that…prison house, I don't think he'd be freaking out as much. Just a thought."

Christine sighed, staring at the contact on her phone screen, "Jack Idiot Manager". "I suppose I should give him a call…I need to buy myself more time."

"More time for what? To go see that man again?"

Christine sat up slowly, leaning into Athena's space. "You said you were fine with it. You know I'm not going to change my mind…now shush, because I'm going to call Jack. I need at least 48 more hours."

"48 hours for what, Christine? Do you honestly think you'll be over there that long? God. I'm worried for you," Athena hissed, just as Christine put her phone to her ear.

"Hey, Jack! Sorry about last night. My phone died."

Jack let out a long sigh on the other end. Silence stretched out uncomfortably between them, until Christine began to squirm, and blurted out the excuse she had planned in her mind. "I was climbing a wall, it was a dare…yeah, I know, pretty fucking stupid. But you know me, Jack…I can't say no to a dare. Anyway, I scabbed up my arms and legs…oh, and my face too. So I'm thinking I can just stay here, at Athena's, and rest for a couple days. I think it would do me good. Mentally too…you know I've been emotionally exhausted."

Jack paused before he spoke, drawing in another, long breath. "Were you high?"

Christine laughed. "Of course I was high."

"God dammit, Christine. So you can't perform tonight…that's what you're saying? You got yourself into a little fucking mess again. This is why I don't want you going anywhere off the grid. You don't know how to control yourself."

"Jack, it was just a dare! Stop being so dramatic."

"Dramatic? That's what you call this?"

Christine grabbed Athena's wine glass, taking a long sip before she responded. "Look, I needed some time away. I've been telling you this! Don't worry, Athena will take good care of me. And I'll be back on the grid within two days. 48 hours, Jack. I've been fucking stressed! Come on. Just do damage control for me? Like you always do?"

"Fine. 48 hours, Christine. But then I'm sending security to come pick you up. No…fucking…excuses."

"That's all I ask," Christine sang, fluttering her eyelashes at Athena. "Thank you, dearest Jack."

"You're fucking high," he muttered, right before Christine hung up. "You're only pleasant to anyone when you're high."

Christine tossed the phone onto the coffee table, laying her head back onto the couch, her mouth pulling upwards into a wide smile. "Now, only one more call I need to make…"

Athena crossed her arms, rolling her eyes as Christine drank the rest of the wine from her glass. "Oh, you mean to call your boyfriend and reassure him nothing's wrong, just so you can attempt to go fuck around with a psycho you literally just met? God, Christine. What the hell is wrong with you?"

"He probably cheats on me anyway. Remember that picture he posted last week?"

"There was literally no evidence that he cheated. It was just a picture with a bunch of girls."

"He's in a band, Athena…you really think that he's been faithful to me? One time he even called me by the wrong name. Such a piece of shit…"

"Yet you're still going out with him! Why not just break it off before you go…see this other guy? I mean, be decent for once Christine…he literally seems head over heels for you."

Christine giggled, rolling to one side to grab her phone from the coffee table. "The sex is too good," she whispered, just as the phone began it's incessant ringing in her ear.

"Yeah," a deep male voice answered, dripping with irritation.

"Hey babe…Sorry about last night, my phone died. I'm at Athena's in the Hills."

"You could have sent me a fucking text, Chris…"

Christine sighed innocently. "I needed a break from everything…so I came out here to get a little space. Not from you, of course…"

"I would hope not," he said flatly, as loud voices rang from the background. "Do you want me to come out there? I can drop by Athena's tonight, if you want. We could spend some time alone…or fuck it, we can party, I really don't care. I'd like to see you, though. I waited after your show, but by the time I found Jack, he said you were gone."

"Yeah, I just really needed to get out of there. I was having some bad anxiety after the show. You know how anxious I can get about crowds…I just, didn't want to deal with it. I should have called you, though…I am sorry," Christine explained softly, while her chest burned with the need to hang up the phone…she didn't want to hear any more of his words, his grating, exasperating tone…it produced a fresh memory of him fucking her hard in the ass, even after she had been reduced to angry, hot tears…repeating over and over that she didn't want it that way.

He deserves to be cheated on, she thought wistfully, her heart throbbing with the sickly sweet confidence of her high. He wouldn't care if I disappeared, forever…

"I just want to have some alone time at Athena's. Please don't feel the need to come out here, Gage…I promise I'll be back at home after a couple of days."

Gage let out a frustrated sigh. "I can't even come see you?"

"You'll see me in two days, I promise. Can you make sure the maids clean up the house before I get there?"

"Yeah, I guess that's fine…but I'm gonna give it to you when I see you. In your fucking ass. For ignoring me," he sneered, his voice low and threatening. Christine swallowed sharply, blinking against the insidious feeling that began to creep and crawl underneath her skin. "Sure," she responded lightly, forcing her voice to remain as submissive and gentle as possible. "I'll see you soon, Gage."

"I love you," he answered, and the line clicked, leaving Christine petrified while listening to blank static, the phone frozen against her ear. She let it drop suddenly, and it clattered to the floor as she bit the inside of her cheek, pushing the emotions back down into whatever hell they had come from. Athena leaned forward, placing a hand upon Christine's bandaged forearm, looking concerned for her friend.

"Christine…are you…okay? What did he say?"

Christine felt her wings beginning to wilt, melting into a thousand blackened sins, leaving her in a puddle of her own filth and scars. "It's fine," she breathed, snatching her backpack off of the floor, her hands digging for her stash of cocaine. "He's fine with it."

Ripping open the bag, Christine poured the rest of the white powder onto the table. She snatched a stray credit card and began forming the pile into long, narrow lines…nice and perfect, with edges that could cut glass. She grasped a rolled up dollar bill in two fingers, and shoved it into her nose, bending down as a person might kneel to pray, yet her God was not up above, but down below…living in pale white scarring that lined the mirrored table. She closed her eyes as she snorted, not wanting to see her own eyes in the reflection, not wanting to remember everything she had subjected herself to. She needed her blue-black wings, back…more than she had ever needed anything in her life.

Athena watched as Christine snorted five consecutive lines, wondering sadly about the mental state of her friend; this aloof, addicted, dual-personality…one side light, and the other as deep and dark as the midnight sky.

Christine stood up, letting her head fall back as she embraced the drip down her throat. Her wilted wings began to stretch out like fingers, grasping angrily at the air that surrounded her. "I think I will take you up on that shower," Christine said, her eyes still closed, wanting to feel all of it – each feather that grew against her skin, making her perfect and powerful in a span of seconds – able to fight against anything that threatened to drown her.

…

A/N: How are we feeling?This chapter precedes the much-anticipated "plan" of Christine's to see Erik again…as Eleanor gives a chilling warning. Any comment, large or small, stays very close to my heart! Thank you all for reading! Love, L.