A couple of notes: I was really inspired in this chapter by Post-Modern Jukebox's cover of Creep by Radiohead so I am including the link here: watch?v=m3lF2qEA2cw&list=RDm3lF2qEA2cw&start_radio=1

Things get a little spicy in this chapter. You are warned.

Chapter 9

What is Halloween to a man who must wear a mask? A night to blend in. A night to walk about without having to be the victim of stares. Erik had never really let himself go out unmasked after the events that led him to his current state. As a result, there were precious few times he could go out and simply be another face in the crowd. For a man who grew up frequently calling attention to himself, the desire to be undistinguishable was at first something like a novelty. Then it became a necessity. Now it was a crutch.

He'd done it all: the masquerade gala, Halloween, Carnivale in Venice - even Comic con on one notable occasion. Under the cover of masks he drank, danced, took women to bed in furtive couplings that did not see the light of day. Reza was frequently his partner in crime on those early outings. Then he went and got himself married. After that the adventure paled. The people close to him were moving on with their lives and he was stuck grasping with sweaty fingers for those brief moments of connection that were not a real connection at all.

For the last few years, Erik spent Halloween at Fedora, a decadent nightclub that hosted its own Halloween party in SoHo. The event was something out of the 1940s with a full swing band and crowded dance floor. Waitresses brought around trays of candy-colored cocktails made with fresh ingredients that went down too easy. The resulting convivial atmosphere was loud with laughter and conversation. Tiffany style lamps hung around the room setting off a variety of colors. Red velour covered chairs with bronze detailing were at tables covered by jewel colored brocade tablecloths.

On stage the performers wore gangster style 1940's suits with pinstripes and fedora hats. The female backup singers dressed in the same red and black beaded satin form fitting dresses with identically shaped pompadours though the third woman's hair was an outrageous shade of purple. Everyone from the singers, musicians, waitresses and guests wore masks. That was the rule - the club took the requirements of Halloween seriously.

The band was playing a lively cover of Mac the Knife and a few couples had already taken to the dance floor despite the earliness of the hour. Erik ordered a Vodka tonic while he waited for Christine to arrive.

He was looking forward to hearing her voice again. It was different to have someone to make music with, but not unwelcome. In recent years he had experimented with adding electronic instruments to his compositions, but it was not the same as having the give and take with another person. Christine's voice was smooth and mellow, golden like honey and just as sweet. It made him think about songs he wanted to write but had avoided doing so since he couldn't hear them being done justice. Perhaps she could help him in that regard.

Every day, he felt himself sinking further under the influence of her company. When she kissed his cheek, it was all he could do not to wrap her in his arms and bring her lips to his. He could almost hear her voice breathless with pleasure while he thoroughly explored her body. He would turn down the lights and make love to her in the dark, devoid of his mask, thinking only of how loud he could make her cum on his mouth… on his cock…

He shook his head. It wouldn't do for Christine to walk into the club and find him with an erection. He took a large swallow of his drink and tried to focus on the band's rendition of Summertime.

"Erik - it's good to see you again!" Erik felt a large hand clap him on the back. He didn't have to force himself to smile at the band's leader and club owner, Richard French. Richard was a large man with a large personality and more loud outfits. Tonight he wore a pumpkin colored 40s style three piece suit. Erik liked him immensely. He was a talented musician and good businessman which was why Erik invested in the club though Richard was not aware of the fact.

"Good to be here. Band is in good shape tonight. The new drummer is really good." He indicated the performers with a nod. "Nice turnout, too."

"Thanks! We gonna see you up there tonight?"

Erik nodded, "Yeah, I'd like that. Could use your help with a favor though."

"Anything - what can I do for you?"

Was this how the one-percenters prepared for Halloween? Christine had agreed to Erik's invitation but had not been aware that it would include an ambush that afternoon by a hair stylist, a make-up artist and a wardrobe consultant. The three professionals were under express orders to prepare her for a night on the town. This was not a homemade costume or Target acquisition evening. She needed to represent. When the two women and one man arrived and commandeered both her apartment and her person her first reaction was anger.

Did Erik think she wasn't good enough as she was? Who was he to control her appearance? She shot off an angry text.

Christine: Would have been nice to ask me before you sent over the squadron to glam me up.

Erik: Is there a problem? I told you this was not your traditional Halloween party. I thought you might enjoy the pampering.

Christine: The problem is that you did not ask. What if I was out doing something?

Erik: Were you? Out doing something?

Christine: No, I wasn't but that doesn't mean you shouldn't have asked.

Some of us have lives, Erik.

She almost texted him that but immediately felt bad for the unkind thought. Erik didn't get that it was wrong to be so high handed, but he didn't really have the experience to know it was wrong.

Christine: Next time just clue me in before you make decisions on my behalf. I'll see you at 8 pm.

Erik: Will do, see you at 8.

Catching her reflection in a store window as she walked into Fedora, she had to admit the glam squad did their job well. She looked good and she felt good. Her hair had been set in curlers and now flowed down her shoulders in Lauren Bacall style waves. The dress she wore was an A line off the shoulder style in periwinkle blue satin. The waste was cinched with a black sequined belt that set off nicely against her black opera length gloves and black beaded Demi mask.

Her anger at Erik and elation at her appearance had the effect of distracting her from the evening's main goal. When Erik first suggested a public performance, she had been on such a high that she hadn't given it the consideration she might have otherwise done. As the days went on, she felt her anxiety build up again.

Erik: Just focus on your breathing. If you are focused on your breath, you heart will follow suit.

Christine: What if I fall flat on my face?

Erik: I'll be there with you the whole time. I'll catch you.

At least she was outfitted for the occasion. What was it that Marie said to her the time she wore sneakers to the office, "Dress for the job you want, not the job you have." Tonight, she was dressed to shine.

Entering the club, she found a seat at the bar, ordered a glass of water, and searched for Erik. She took stock of the club. The band was playing a big band cover of No Diggity by Black Street that translated remarkably well. Several couples danced to the slow bluesy down tempo song and others watched from tables throughout the establishment. She looked at the band when she realized the piano player was smirking at her.

"Holy shit!" Christine whisper shouted. Erik was playing piano for the band and looking quite comfortable doing so. Christine's jaw dropped and she grinned stupidly before shaking her head slightly and wagging her finger at him. She watched him resume his focus on playing. Christine sipped her water, enjoying the song but mostly staggered that her Erik, the recluse, was putting himself front and center.

Her smile faded slightly. What must it be like for him to cleave to these tiny moments? She wished he would open himself up to the world. It was just a face - he was so much more than his face. She wished they could be more to each other so she could ask him. She wanted to be a permanent part of Erik's life but that was unlikely. This was a temporary arrangement - come Spring or maybe sooner their time together would come to an end.

Well, forget that. She would enjoy their friendship for what it was.

The song came to an end and a round, middle aged man in a bright orange suit came on stage soliciting applause from the crowd.

"Wasn't that great? For those of you who just arrived I am Dicky French the owner of this fine establishment and your band leader. Ladies and gentlemen, I am so thrilled to introduce you to two special guest performers. The first is on piano and he is the OG for us at Fedora. Please let's welcome Erik Gardner!" The orange suited man indicated Erik at piano and Erik responded by playing a jaunty complex tune. He was playing up to the crowd.

"Our next guest is new to Fedora but I'm told she is an ingenue in the making. She and Erik are going to serenade you a bit while some of our band members take a fifteen-minute break. Please welcome to the stage, Christine Derring!"

Hearing her name and the polite applause was jarring and her heart took a leap in pace. She took a deep breath and walked to the stage her eyes on Erik the entire time.

"What if I fall flat on my face?"

"I'll be there with you the whole time. I'll catch you."

She smiled at Dicky French as he lowered the microphone to her height. She thanked him with a smile and looked over at Erik. His smile was placid, and he nodded to her while he started playing.

"Heart beats fast…"

It wasn't a big band song, but the audience didn't seem to mind. The couples already on the floor drifted into a waltz style dance. In the corner of her eye, she saw one couple hold hands during the romantic melody. That the audience eased back into their activities buoyed her confidence and let Christine take more liberty with the melody.

Disaster saved itself for the second verse when her she reached for the microphone, tripped on the cord, and nearly fell…flat on her face. She looked toward Erik, horrified. Her cue was coming up. She heard the gasps in the crowd.

"Time stands still, beauty in all she is, I will be brave, I will no let anything take away…"

Christine looked at Erik. His eyes were only on hers, willing her to pick up the microphone while he carried the verse. She followed his silent command and by the time the verse was done she was able to take over the chorus again, this time with Erik joining in harmony. She looked at him through the song's bridge, barely noticing the cell phones that had started recording her near catastrophe and rise from the proverbial ashes.

When the song ended, the audience applauded loudly though Christine was not sure if it was because the song was good or because the interruption made the finish that much more triumphant. She didn't care. She would take it. She curtsied slightly and indicated Erik so that he might take his share of the applause.

Dicky French joined them on stage and placed a hand on Christine's shoulder.

"Christine, I have to say that was wonderful. You are welcome to join us anytime though I think we might have to fit you for a wireless microphone." The crowd laughed and Christine gave a good-natured shrug. She excused herself off stage while Dicky turned to Erik. "Erik, what was that? I had no idea you could sing. Hiding your light under a bushel? I think we need an encore. What do you say folks?"

The crowd went crazy, clearly charmed by Erik's heroics and Christine was one of the loudest among them.

"I don't appear to have a choice." Erik said with a roll of his eyes.

"You heard him folks. I present again, Erik Gardner!"

Christine waited with bated breath. What would Erik choose to sing? Before their unexpected duet she had only ever heard him sing one time. When the melody began, she immediately recognized it as a bluesy cover of Creep by Radiohead.

When you were here before

Couldn't look you in the eye

You're just like an angel

Your skin makes me cry

You float like a feather

In a beautiful world

His voice cast a spell over the nightclub. It seemed like everyone there collectively held their breath. The noise of bartenders and waitresses ceased. The dancers turned to watch Erik's performance, barely swaying as he serenaded the words of unrequited love.

I'm a creep

I'm a weirdo

What the hell am I doing here?

I don't belong here

Erik looked up at Christine as he sang, their eyes meeting for long moments of unspoken understanding. She felt her cheeks turn red. This time she felt his voice all over her body. He was singing to her, and he was singing about her.

"I don't care if it hurts

I wanna have control

I want a perfect body

I want a perfect soul

I want you to notice

When I'm not around"

As if the confession was too intimate, Erik turned away to croon the bridge and final chorus. She felt his voice filling her. It was a passion she never experienced before. She had been so long concerned that her feelings for Erik were more than she wanted them to be. She had squeezed them into the box of friendship because there was no way he could ever see her as anything else. Now that she knew how he felt, every hidden desire bloomed within her. It was almost too much to bear. When would this song end?

She had been so brave, his Christine, as she sang on stage, carried by his will for her to succeed and her own will to triumph over her cowardice. When Richard came to him with the request that he perform, Erik felt his fingers play the chosen chords, damn the consequences. If she could be brave, than so could he. It almost hurt to look at her over at the bar as he sang his feelings to her. Her face was flush. Her eyes were wide, but he held her stare as long as he could.

The wait was interminable. He could barely acknowledge his friend's congratulations, or the standing ovation given him by the crowd. All that mattered was getting to Christine. All that mattered was hearing her response to his confession. He must have run through ten strangers. Women were fawning to get this attention – all unimportant. When he made it to Christine, he was breathing hard. His head fell against hers, their foreheads touching.

"Let's get out of here." He whispered, grabbing her hand while she nodded. Stubborn creature she was, he feared she would resist but like him she was holding on as if for dear life.

Garret, God bless him, waited outside with the car for their retreat. Erik ushered Christine in, barely pausing to put up the privacy partition.

"Erik…" She whispered, her eyes wide and watery. "That song…" She removed her mask and crossed the distance between them.

Her lips were upon his in an instant. She wasn't gentle; she was unleashed. He responded enthusiastically, crashing into her, trying to absorb her into his very skin. His lips took hers with a bruising force, while one hand went around her neck and into her hair massaging gently, setting a pace that sent her moaning, wanting more.

"Wanted to do this since that night in the elevator," he whispered in her ear, his lips moving down to caress her pulse point. "Most beautiful woman I've ever seen."

Christine laughed lightly; a throaty sound that made him hard. "You did a good job of hiding it." She captured his lips again, and he groaned as her tongue entered his mouth. One of his hands pressed against her chest, squeezing her slightly. He wanted to pull the dress down in the back of his car, but he wouldn't do that. He would take her home and seduce her slowly. They had all night.

"So much I want to do to you. I'm going to taste you, make you cum on my mouth. Then you'll ride my cock until you're screaming." He pulled her onto his lap so that she was straddling him, the length of him hard against her core and she yelped in pleasure at the pressure of him there. Christine covered his chin and throat with kisses as she writhed against him.

"You feel so good, Erik." Her hands were in his hair as his hands gripped her thighs, pressing her rhythmically against the length of him. He didn't notice her hands as they moved from his hair to his neck and then finally jostled his mask loose from his face.

Christine didn't seem to notice. Her lips continued their assault on him even as her face was skin to skin with his own. Erik froze. His hands on her stilled and then she was physically tossed aside as Erik looked for the mask in a panic.

"Erik, what happened?"

"You should not have done that." He said frantically with cold anger. He found the black leather mask and affixed it in place, facing away from her.

"Done what? I don't understand."

Erik looked at her, trying not to see how beautiful she was. Her lips were swollen, her dress askew. He could tell she was still aroused from his touch, his kiss, his song. "I thought I was perfectly clear. You cannot see my face. You cannot touch my mask. This was clearly a mistake."

"I – I've already seen your face. It doesn't bother me."

He knew she meant it to reassure him. She might even actually want him. But he knew he could never be enough. Perhaps he was enough for a night of passion but never someone who could walk with her in the light of day.

"I'm glad you seem to tolerate my face. I do not want to be tolerated. We shouldn't have started this." Erik sighed deeply. "Let's get you home."

She stared at him, her mouth agape.

"No. That won't be necessary. Drop me off here."

"Don't be ridiculous, Christine, it's three miles to your apartment." Erik had a sudden fear that he had pushed her too far.

"I'll take the subway. It's not that late. I don't want to be here anymore than you want me here." She was furious. "You don't get to call all the shots, Erik. You don't get to decide every aspect of this…" she motioned between them, "relationship. Are we colleagues? Friends? Teacher and student? Lovers?" Her face was red with anger. "Have Garret pull over. Now!"

Erik tapped on the ceiling and the car came to a stop.

"Thank you for all your help, Erik. This is done. I don't want to see you anymore. I don't want a relationship that is only on your terms."

She gathered her things and exited the car, the door slamming in his face. Erik knew without a doubt that he had just made the biggest mistake of his life.