Shout out to my lovely beta, PhantomSith. No one else could put up with my nuttiness. All the love, my friend.
Erik played the nocturne for her, his fingers gliding with refined grace over the piano keys. The music he brought forth held a beauty beyond words, yet it was mired in profound sorrow. In the deep caverns and valleys of his melody, pain and loss were made manifest.
A moment passed. A lull in the descent. And then…the piece began to change. The somber tones morphed into something soft and timid. There was reluctance in the notes, as if he was uncertain of this new direction his melody was taking. Little by little, the lilting timbre increased in strength, his confidence growing and the tune taking on a lighter air.
The melancholy of earlier seemed to have evaporated and was replaced with the gentle sounds of elation, the notes seeming to come to life as if waking from a long slumber. The melody rose in tentative strains, as if unsure of itself, but soon enough it flew higher and higher, dancing in its joy and filling them with the first stirrings of something they'd both thought long lost…hope.
The song began to slow as it neared its end, but just as the final notes were about to flow from Erik's fingers, Christine heard a discordant clanging noise spew forth as he tapped the keys and what sounded like a gush of water
Christine twitched at the offending noise, latching onto her body pillow with a firm grip almost on instinct. She blinked one bleary eye open and closed it just as quickly to ward off the glaring sunlight streaming through the living room window and hitting her square in the face.
We have got to get blackout curtains, her sleep-addled brain grumbled.
She was just on the edge of slipping back into a peaceful slumber when the pipes shrieked again. Christine jammed her head under the pillow hoping to muffle the sound, but no such luck. The clanging and gurgling were ever-present and annoying. Sometimes she hated Meg's penchant for crack-of-dawn showers, but then, if their cheapskate landlord would just do his damn job and call a plumber, this wouldn't even be an issue.
Giving up on any chance of falling back to sleep, Christine threw her pillow off and rubbed her eyes, a jaw-cracking yawn overcoming her that turned into a long and glorious, full-bodied stretch. She rose from the sofa bed on languid legs, feeling more relaxed than she had in the longest time. She didn't even remember falling into bed the night before, she was so exhausted. But it was the good kind of tired, from having a wonderful, productive day and an even more amazing night.
Needing to use the bathroom, Christine padded over to the door and slipped inside, not concerned in the slightest about using the toilet while Meg was in the shower. They'd known each other since they were kids. This was nothing new, and if the flush caused a surge of hot water? Well…it served her right.
Not noticing anything out of the ordinary at first, Christine had just pulled down her underwear and started to relieve herself when she heard a long, guttural moan hiss from behind the shower door. As her sleep-addled mind struggled to comprehend the noises, the distinct, familiar sound of wet slapping flesh echoed throughout the small space. Eyes wide and in slow motion, she turned her head toward the sound. Through the frosted glass, she could just make out the silhouettes of two distinct bodies…in a very compromising position.
Meg was held by…someone, her legs wrapped around his torso and his hand clutching her ass as he slammed into her at an excruciating pace. If his other hand hadn't been cradling her head and protecting her from the porcelain tiles, he'd have given her a concussion with how hard they were going at it.
Christine squeezed her eyes shut, not wanting to burn her retinas with visions of some strange guy's naked flesh. The embarrassment of walking in on them was bad enough, though not at all surprising. He wasn't the first conquest Meg had brought home without saying anything and knowing her…he wouldn't be the last. She had almost managed to slip covertly out the door when —
"Oh fuck - oh fuck - oh fuck - oh fuck - oh fuuuuuuck!" Meg screeched at the top of her lungs at almost the same time as the mystery man let out a loud animalistic groan. Left with only the sound of their labored breathing and the incessant clanging of the pipes, Christine bolted out of the room, but not before flushing the toilet and slamming the door behind her.
Served them both right.
As Christine scooted back down the hall into the living room, it wasn't long before she heard the shower being turned off, giving her blessed relief from the pipes' relentless cacophony. There was a muffled shuffling coming from the bathroom and then hushed whispers before the two scrambled down the hall toward Meg's bedroom.
Christine snickered, shaking her head at the absurdity of the entire situation as she went to work returning the sofa bed to rights. Once that was done, she padded over to the kitchen and began rifling through the cabinets, pulling down her favorite box of raspberry tea and Meg's beloved jar of Taster's Choice. As she went about putting the kettle on and cutting up some fruit for breakfast, Christine contemplated hiding that stupid jar, letting Meg drag herself to class like a zombie.
She could be petty when she had a mind to…but to deny Meg her coffee? That would just be downright cruel.
Christine finished plating the fruit right as the kettle whistled, and she grabbed it off the burner, pouring hot water into two mugs. She wasn't sure what the 'shower shagger' drank and had no desire to find out, assuming that if he at least had manners, he'd ask.
After steeping her tea and mixing Meg's coffee, Christine plopped down on the second-hand barstool at the counter and took a tentative sip of her brew, allowing the warmth to infuse her chilled limbs and the sweet, fruity scent to bring her to full wakefulness.
Just as she was popping a piece of strawberry into her mouth, Meg emerged from the hallway with a buoyance in her step and not an ounce of shame, Mystery Guy slinking close behind her in a pair of dark blue bell bottoms and a worn leather jacket.
"Morning, hon," Meg greeted, her voice far too effervescent for it being so early in the morning. She grabbed her mug from the counter and took a long sip, breathing a sigh of blissful contentment over her cup. "You're the best, Christine. You know that, right?" Meg laid it on with a wide grin, raising her mug in thanks. "Sorry about the pipes this morning. I wish Donnie would stop being such a jerk and call a damn plumber already!"
"Good luck with that," Christine rolled her eyes, no stranger to her roommate's very heated tirades over their building superintendent's ineptitude. "We both know he's too lazy to do anything that could be considered work…and too cheap."
"Yeah but, if he's just gonna sit on his ass and do nothing, then what the hell are we paying rent for?" Meg groused, grabbing some fruit from the spread as she made her own breakfast plate. Mystery Guy sidled up behind her and slid his arms around her waist in a tender hold as she looked to him with a warm smile, full of affection.
For a long moment, Christine felt a twinge of jealousy pulling at her gut. Just looking at Mystery Guy, she could tell he was Meg's type in every way. He had the striking handsomeness of a matinee-idol but the lean and defined muscle of someone who might've worked on a farm. With bushy brown hair and a subtle sensitivity in his expressive blue eyes, he exuded a certain boyish charm that she didn't often see in Meg's paramours.
She envied the ease with which Meg could let the men in her life come and go. Lonely as she often was, she'd had no desire to lose herself in another relationship. Another heartbreak. Not after…
Then came Erik. She never expected someone like him to stumble into her world the way he did. Trying to understand what she felt for him was difficult, to say the least. Somehow, he had the innate ability to captivate her and drive her to distraction in equal measure. Still, she couldn't deny that being with him filled an unfathomable hollowness inside of her that had burned into her soul the day her father died. It was frightening to think that one specific person, out of the blue, could have such a powerful effect on her.
It made her wonder…could he possibly feel the same?
"Christine…?" Meg sing-songed, tossing a blueberry in her direction with an impish giggle. "Earth to Christine!"
"Wha…" Christine's absentminded reply was cut off as the berry hit her square in the face. It bounced off her nose, hit the kitchen counter, and rolled onto the floor. She looked at Meg with narrowed eyes, annoyance rising as her best friend sat across the table almost hyperventilating in her attempt to keep herself from busting out laughing.
"Honestly?" Christine huffed, having no patience for Meg's childish antics so early in the morning.
"Oh, stop! You know I'm just messing with you. And anyway, you left me no choice! I tried to get your attention, but you were a million miles away," Meg explained, a hint of worry tinging her voice as she covered Christine's hands with her own. "Where'd you go just now?"
Mystery Man's eyes flickered between the roommates, lips pursed.
"It's…it's nothing," Christine whispered, shrugging her shoulders and loosening her hands from Meg's hold. She was pulling away and knew it. Although she loved Meg dearly and considered her like a sister, she just didn't feel comfortable discussing her roiling emotions with her new guy around, a virtual stranger in her eyes.
Instead, she turned to a tried and true method that had served her well over the years: avoidance.
"Anyhow!" Christine chirped, her tone giving off far too much cheerfulness to be genuine. "I just wanted to apologize. I feel like we've been so rude!" She turned to the stove, retrieving the kettle and another mug from the cupboard.
"Here you are, a guest in our home, and we haven't even offered you something to drink, um…" She trailed off, her heightened enthusiasm fooling no one, as she poured hot water into the cup. "…I'm sorry…I don't think we've been properly introduced. I'm Christine." The look of horror on Meg's face was priceless as Christine rambled on, unthinking. "Meg brings so many of her…friends…through our doors that sometimes it's hard to remember all of their names!"
He wasn't spared seeing the shocked expression on both the women's faces since he chose that moment to lean on the counter next to Meg, a look of quiet bemusement passing over him as his penetrating gaze vacillated between them. Judging by the look of confusion that passed over him, Christine knew she'd stuck her foot in it.
"Um…I'm Sam," he stammered, extending a tentative hand in her direction.
Clearing her throat to hide her growing embarrassment, Christine gave Sam's hand a quick shake and replied, "Hey…"
"Thanks for the offer, but…I've gotta get going. Unlike someone here," Sam smiled over at Meg, giving her side a playful poke, "I've actually got class this morning, and I'm already running late."
Slinging his backpack over his shoulder, Sam headed toward the door, Meg shuffling close behind. In the doorway, she ran her fingers down his arm, taking his hand in her own. Watching them together, Christine couldn't help but notice the tenderness in the gesture and the way she looked at him with nothing less than utter adoration.
Sam's fingers ran a slow trail through her long, flowing blonde hair as he pulled her to him with a gentle tug. His lips slid against hers with a soft, chaste kiss, and Christine felt the sudden urge to turn away as if she were some kind of interloper intruding on a very intimate moment.
"I wish you didn't have to go," Meg whispered in his ear as she wrapped her arms around him in a warm hug.
"Me too, but you know how it goes, sweetheart," Sam breathed back, giving her a peck on the cheek. "Class awaits."
"We are still on for tomorrow night, right?" Meg asked with a tight but hopeful smile.
"You bet," he replied with a crooked little grin as he lifted her hand and brushed his lips across her knuckles. "Later alligator…" he trailed off and disappeared around the corner.
Meg closed the door with a soft click and turned back into the living room, spying Christine by the sink, cleaning up the dishes. Plodding over to the kitchen island, she leaned back against it with her arms crossed.
Christine continued to scrub in silence, and although she gave no indication that she noticed Meg was there, both women knew she was very much aware of her friend's presence.
"You're lucky I like you, you know," Meg stated, her tone frosty but holding no real bite. "What the hell was that all about anyway? Could you have been any less obvious?"
Christine spun around, a towel twisted in her hands as she spluttered, "Oh God! I can't believe I said that!" She covered her face with it, shaking her head in mortification. Pulling the towel down, she continued, "I never meant to imply anything like that, I swear!"
"Hey…relax," Meg tutted, rubbing Christine's shoulders in an effort to calm her. "I know you didn't. Look…I'm woman enough to admit that I like to have fun, and the guys at the university know it. Yes, I enjoy having sex. There's nothing wrong with that. Yeah, it's casual, but when the sex is great, it can be beyond satisfying."
Meg moved to sit on the couch, picking up a throw pillow and hugging it to her. She motioned for Christine to sit down beside her and continued, her voice wistful, "This time, though…it's different. Sam…is different. He's not like the others, Christine. Yeah, I met him in class, but he's not some trust fund kid going to school on mommy and daddy's money. He's a scholarship student from a small town in Indiana. He's sweet and kind; the real deal. Most of the guys at school can be real assholes, even on their best day. Sam…he makes me feel like a lady."
Christine's grin nearly split her face as she listened to Meg go on about Sam with a dreamy look in her eyes that could not be denied. Her best friend was infatuated. There was no doubt about it.
"You're falling in love with him, aren't you?" she asked, the need to know threatening to overwhelm her. If Meg's life could be so changed by meeting the right person at the right time, was it so hard to believe that the same might have happened to her, too?
"Honestly? I don't know. Maybe?" Meg replied, sitting back and tucking her legs underneath her. "The only thing I'm sure of right now is that I've never felt this way about anyone before and…it scares me. I'm not sure where things are gonna go with Sam right now, but I know that I can't lose him, Christine. He means the world to me, so please just…watch what you say next time, okay?"
"Of course. And I am sorry. Truly. I never meant for it to come out that way," Christine assured her, pulling Meg's hand into her lap and holding it tight. They smiled at each other for a long moment, basking in the glow of friendship and new love.
Sitting up again, Meg gave Christine a lingering once-over, just now noticing that her friend wasn't drowning in her usual 'buttoned-up' look. She was wearing a nice pair of denim bell bottoms and a pretty, lavender-colored sweater. This was far removed from the drab, ill-fitting outfits and oversized coats that she'd worn for years now. There was a new light in her eyes that had been missing for too long, brightened even more by the touch of makeup she'd added.
Something was up. Meg was certain of it now.
"It's all good. Now…enough about me. What's gotten into you?" Meg teased, giving Christine's shoulder a playful shove.
"I…I don't know what you mean…" Christine stammered, gaze falling away with unease. She wasn't sure how much she wanted to reveal to Meg about Erik. Their relationship was so new at the moment, and a part of her didn't want to share him with anyone just yet, even her best friend.
Erik was unique, and he was hers. Letting someone in on the secret felt like an intrusion into their private world.
"Oh, come on! You can't pull one over on me, Christine Daae. I know you too well." Meg gnawed at her, unwilling to let Christine attempt to worm her way out of the conversation. "For over a year now, you've made an art form out of oversized and beige. Now, all of a sudden, we're doing form-fitting again? And color? That's no coincidence. Something's going on, and you're gonna tell me…but not here."
"Wha…what do you mean, not here?" Christine asked, nonplussed.
"I mean…we're going out for breakfast. A real breakfast. Something greasy and not at all healthy. And while we eat, you are going to talk to me," Meg stated with complete conviction.
Knowing there was no talking her friend out of something when she had her mind made up, all Christine could do was reply with a hesitant nod and a wan smile.
They finished cleaning up and headed out to a greasy spoon that was one of Meg's guilty pleasures. Sliding into a booth, a waitress soon strode over to take their order.
"I'll have two eggs scrambled, a side of bacon, and a glass of orange juice," Meg told her without even looking at the menu.
"Um…make that two," Christine acquiesced, her mind too jittery with nerves for decision-making. The waitress nodded, took their menus, and wandered off to get their drinks.
They sat there for a few moments just staring at each other as if they were waiting to see which one would break first. Unfortunately for Christine, Meg was not the type of person to beat around the bush.
"Okay. We're here, so…spill," Meg demanded as the waitress returned with their glasses. "What happened? And don't try to use your cute little denial tactics on me. We both know I'm immune."
"Nothing happened! I just…felt like it was time for a change," Christine hedged, taking a sip of her juice. "It's like you said…it's been over a year since Papa died…and everything else. I know he wouldn't want me to keep going on like this, just existing. He'd want me to be happy. To live a good life. I owe it to him to... at least try."
"You know, I'm glad you've finally decided to turn things around. You've been in a kind of…limbo ever since your father got sick," Meg intoned, all seriousness. "He loved you more than anything, Christine. All he ever wanted was for you to be happy, and he would've hurt so much to see you wasting away like this."
"I proud of you, you know? Really. You accepted the fact that it's time to move on, and that's no easy feat. You're stronger than you give yourself credit for."
"Thanks, Meg," Christine whispered, her voice wobbling and eyes glassy as she struggled to contain her tears.
"What are friends for, am I right?" Meg grinned back, the strength of her smile forcing a watery laugh out of Christine's sadness. "And as your friend, I would be remiss if I didn't admit that I don't buy your 'I-woke-up-today-and-decided-to-turn-over-a-new-leaf' story. Not entirely, anyway. C'mon…cough it up. What are you not telling me?"
Christine was conflicted. Meg was her best friend. There was a time not so long ago when she used to confide in her about everything. She still wanted that, to be able to tell her about this newfound happiness in her life. About Erik. But…she wasn't sure yet what direction this relationship was heading.
It was all so new, this thing between them. For the moment, Christine just wanted to keep Erik all to herself. He was so extraordinary, and what she felt when they were together was so powerful that she didn't want to share him with anyone else. Was that selfish? Maybe, but she just couldn't find it in her to care right now.
Still, Christine knew it would be unfair to outright lie to her friend. Meg trusted her just as much with her own secrets. It would be hypocritical and two-faced if she didn't at least give her something, even if it was only part of the truth.
"I…I met someone," Christine murmured under her breath, her eyes scrutinizing their table.
"M-Met someone? Seriously?" Meg spluttered, stunned beyond belief. She leaned in, overcome with curiosity. "Oh, now you've got my attention! When did this happen?"
"It's…new. Very new. We met just yesterday," Christine explained with some hesitance. She didn't want to keep secrets from Meg but was reticent about giving away too much.
"Yesterday? Interesting," Meg purred, her interest peaked. "So…tell me. Where did you and this…someone meet?"
"A-at the shop. We met at the shop," Christine replied, tension roiling her stomach into knots. She was unwilling to reveal anything else.
"The music store, huh? Yeah, right. Pull the other one," Meg snickered, the skepticism unmistakable in her tone. "There are only a few men that frequent the store on a regular basis; Mr. Garrett, who you and I both know has a terrible crush on my mother, the mailman who's at least twice your age, and Mr. Conti, the building super," she ticked each one off on her fingers, "and I'm pretty sure 'goomba' ain't your type. Try again."
Pinching the bridge of her nose in exasperation, Christine breathed a defeated sigh. She knew there was no point trying to hedge and dodge. Not with Meg. The woman was as bull-headed as they came and wouldn't give up until she wormed the truth out of her.
"Fine! He…he works at the store, alright? Are you satisfied now?" Christine clapped back.
"Works at…? Wait. Hold on," Meg's eyes widened as the light bulb went off. "You don't mean...Erik? The instrument guy?"
Christine's minuscule nod was almost imperceptible, but Meg caught it like a hammer slamming a nail.
"Yes. I came in early yesterday morning, and he happened to be there, working. I didn't realize who he was at first because he never came down during the day before. The whole thing was a huge coincidence, and awkward doesn't even begin to describe what it was like between us," Christine admitted in a long-winded huff.
"I don't even know how to respond to that," Meg choked out, lost for words. "I mean, I don't know him all that well, but he seems like something of a hermit."
"He has his reasons," Christine stated, defensive hackles rising. She couldn't let Meg judge him, not when she didn't even know him.
"Yeah…Mom told me he was involved in a horrible accident years ago," Meg told her, now feeling her own need to be honest. "I remember him. Sort of. Mom took me to one of LaGuardia's year-end performances back when I was in middle school. I was so excited to see all the dancers and dream about what it would be like when it would be me up there in just a few more years.
"Erik performed that night. At first, I wasn't paying much attention because I wasn't into that sort of thing…but when he started to get deeper into the nocturne…well…I can't explain it. He was brilliant. Captivating. I don't think there was a dry eye in the house."
Christine's smile was beaming with an unabashed affection for Erik and the beautiful gift she wished he didn't have to keep hidden from the world.
"After his accident, Mom said he was bad off. Painful rehab. Problems at home. She offered him a job once she opened the store and the apartment upstairs so he'd have a place to stay. Seemed like a good arrangement at the time, and it's worked out pretty well so far," Meg went on, reminiscing. "I don't see him or talk to him all that much since he works after hours."
"If you know about the accident, then you understand why he keeps to himself; why he doesn't get out much," Christine explained, wanting to ensure that Meg didn't have the wrong impression of him.
"Yeah. I get it, but…are you sure this is wise? He's not the most…personable…individual in the world, you know. It can't be easy being with someone like that," Meg tutted, her concern well-meaning but unnecessary.
"He does do things outside of work, Meg," Christine enlightened her as the waitress showed up with their meals. Once she laid out the plates and moved on, she continued, "Last night he took me out to listen to him play…at LaGuardia."
The picture of Meg sitting stock still with her fork paused at her mouth was priceless. "He…what?!" she seethed, almost dropping her eggs in her lap.
"Meg! Take a breath! It's okay. I mean…at first, I was so upset I couldn't even speak. I wanted to throttle him for being so heartless," she calmed her, noticing a vein beginning to throb on Meg's forehead. "When he brought me in there…I can't begin to describe how painful it was after not having been there since…"
Emotions threatening to overwhelm her, Christine breathed a long sigh and took a few bites of her breakfast. She was so worked up that it was difficult to swallow, the food lodging itself in her throat like a golf ball. Taking a sip of her juice to wash it down, she took another deep, cleansing breath and went on, "…but when he began to play…it was so beautiful, Meg. It was like he became one with the music, and it intertwined with his soul. I've never heard anything so powerful or so moving…not since Papa and his violin."
"I sang, Meg. For the first time almost two years. I didn't realize I was even doing it at first, but I couldn't help myself. It was as if his music pulled me in and broke me open in ways no words could express. He gave me something I thought I'd lost. Something I never believed I could have again. He set me free."
Meg's eyes were glassy with unshed tears at her best friend's words. She'd seen firsthand how hard Christine had taken it when her father became ill; how watching him waste away ravaged her soul bit by bit. Then Gustave passed away and all that remained was the shell of someone she no longer recognized.
Seeing her so happy again, the light returned to her eyes, was more than Meg could ever have hoped for. Still, she was wary of this new direction Christine's life was taking. From what little she knew, Meg believed Erik to be a decent person whose heart was in the right place, but at the end of the day, what kind of relationship could he and Christine have?
The man was a virtual recluse, and though it was true that Christine's situation was similar, they were by no means the same.
Squaring her shoulders, Meg resolved that she would give Christine the benefit of the doubt…for now. But she would keep a weathered eye on this new friend of hers to ensure he had Christine's best interests at heart. After what happened with Raoul…the last thing Meg wanted for Christine was more heartbreak.
She would not allow her to become weighed down by the chains of a relationship that existed in self-imposed exile.
After Christine's unexpected revelation, the conversation drifted to more mundane topics centered around Meg's classes and the new girl at the music store. The two gossiped a bit and Christine laughed as Meg told her how she and Sam first met during a disastrous jazz dance class, where her ill-fitting tap shoe flew off in the middle of a number and almost hit him in the face. It was mortifying…and it was kismet.
Soon enough, they'd finished their meal, paid the bill, and headed outside to figure out what to do with the rest of their morning, since Meg didn't have to be at the shop for her shift until noon.
Walking arm in arm down the busy street, the girls happened to pass a women's clothing store with a gorgeous display of dresses. Since they left the restaurant, the two had been somewhat quiet, lost in their private contemplations. However, when Meg saw the storefront, the perfect idea came to mind.
It was a way for her to get to know Erik better and see the two of them together – outside of the protective walls of the shop or the school.
"You've got your mind pretty made up about this thing with Erik, huh?" Meg pressed, apprehension coating her voice as she tugged on Christine's arm a bit to stop her from walking on. "There's no convincing you otherwise?"
"Well…I don't know if I'd call it a thing, Meg. Although…it sure feels that way, even if it's only been a day," Christine mused, rubbing her arms and hugging herself as she struggled to make sense of all of her conflicting emotions.
Her mind and her heart just couldn't seem to agree on what to feel. It was maddening.
"All right then. Here's what we're gonna do," Meg stated with determination. "We are going to go into this shop to find you a new dress." She pulled a reluctant Christine into the store and started skimming the racks of dresses.
"Meg!" Christine exclaimed in alarm as she was dragged through the store, bouncing from rack to rack at a frenetic pace. "What in the world are we doing here?!"
Meg grabbed a bright red, low-cut halter dress from one of the hangers and held it up to Christine's chest. "I am trying to find you something killer to wear for tomorrow night. Well…something killer that won't kill that man of yours on sight."
Meg's Cheshire grin was dripping with sin. She was in full-on wing woman mode at this point. All Christine could do was hang on and try to survive the ride.
"No…too saucy," Meg groused, putting the dress back and grabbing her hand to pull Christine out of the shop. "C'mon. I know a few more shops around here in your price range. I'm sure we'll find something before tomorrow."
"Wh…what's happening tomorrow?" Christine panted as Meg led her on a merry jog for a few blocks until they made it to the next store.
"What's happening," Meg answered without a hitch in her breath as they walked in, "is we are going out."
Christine stood, baffled, in the middle of the store. "What on earth are you talking about?" She had no idea what Meg was on about, but she didn't want to be roped into one of her friend's crazy schemes.
"Remember when I asked Sam if we were still on for tomorrow night?" Christine nodded, though the point of all this was still lost on her. "Well, Sam and I were planning on going to the Loft for drinks and dancing. He's not into disco, but the club has a few nights a week where they play other stuff like R and B, funk, and soul. It's a much smaller crowd than their usual blow-out bashes. He wants us to check it out…and you and your man are coming with us. Hence the need for a new dress."
Christine was floored. She didn't know what to think. She hadn't been out for fun in…years. She had lost all desire after her father passed away. Could she do this? After so long? And what about Erik? As a rule, he seemed to avoid social interaction at all costs. How would she even begin to convince him to go along with Meg's ridiculous plan?
"Meg…I'm not so sure this is a good idea," Christine grimaced as Meg walked around different displays, looking for something that would catch her eye. "If you know Erik at all, then you have to realize this is a monumental ask. I doubt he would ever agree to it. Don't act like you don't know why."
Not finding anything in the second store that suited her fancy, Meg made her way outside, Christine trailing her at a glacial pace, wishing she could be anywhere but where she was.
They walked along for a bit, Christine lost in her own churning headspace as Meg bounced along, seemingly unaware.
Just before they were about to enter the third store, Meg pulled a frazzled Christine aside and pulled her in for a tight hug. "Hey," she whispered in Christine's ear, "I'm sorry. I know I can sometimes come on a bit strong. I just…need to know you're okay. You've been through so much the past few years, and you deserve to be happy again. If Erik is the key to that, I don't want to get in the way, but…you get why I worry, right?"
Christine nodded, understanding Meg's concern but still wanting to know where the hell she was going with all this.
"I thought if we could make it a double date, it would be a chance for him to take some baby steps out into the world again," Meg revealed in all sincerity, but then followed with a smirk, "and I could get to know him. Check him out. Make sure he's not a psycho stalker or something."
"You're not serious," Christine deadpanned, feeling a swell of righteous indignation flare up within her on Erik's behalf.
"You're damn right I am. You're my best friend. We've always looked out for each other, remember?" Meg replied, more than serious. "I have no intention of stopping now. Besides, who else is gonna make sure you don't puke all over your shoes?"
For the next couple of hours, that was how it went as Meg flitted from store to store trying to find the perfect dress while Christine followed along in anxious silence. After close to two hours of almost non-stop shopping and five stores later, they emerged from store number six with aching feet and a beautiful brand-new dress.
Christine still wasn't sure that this whole endeavor wasn't going to blow up in her face, but there wasn't much she could do about it right now. She had bought the damn dress, after all. Now came the daunting task of convincing Erik…and she had no idea where she was even going to start.
Realizing that she'd lost track of time and was on the verge of being late for work, Meg hailed a cab and the two headed back to the music shop. Christine spent the entire time as Meg droned on about the tedium of another shift behind the counter having an internal meltdown over how to approach this mess.
As they arrived, Christine was making her way inside when Meg abruptly spun around in the doorway and stopped her. "Hold on. We're not going in just yet." At Christine's puzzled look, Meg explained, "Don't worry. I won't be late. Mom can see us from inside. Anyway…we are not taking the risk of him seeing you with this dress before you're ready. He doesn't even know what's going on yet. We don't want this plan to fail before we even have the chance to put it into action, right?"
Christine shook her head, feeling like she was on auto-pilot at this point.
"I know you're worried about how we're gonna convince Erik to go along with this, but this will work out. I promise," Meg assured her, walking backward into the shop. Pointing a finger at her, Meg grinned with maniacal glee. "You just focus on making yourself look stunning and leave the rest to me. I'll have Erik eating out of my hands in no time."
With that, Meg disappeared into the store leaving a dazed and panic-filled Christine in her wake.
The only thing her brain could force out with any clarity at that moment was one glaring thought.
What the hell had she just gotten herself into?