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A Phantom's Love	By : YamiAlchemist Category: M through R > The Phantom of the Opera > Het Views: 1236 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do NOT own The Phantom of the Opera

Chapter List
- 1-A Phantom's Love
- 2-The Phantom's Return
- 1
- 2
Yay! I finally got chapter 2 written! This one actually gave me a lot more trouble than I originally thought it would, which was greatly surprising. I just couldn't figure out where I wanted it to go, or how I wanted it to start. It was rather annoying to be working on it for the past 4 days without really knowing what was going to happen.
Thankfully, Erik and Christine seemed to know where they wanted it to go, since they randomly started tossing ideas at me halfway through writing this chapter. In the end, for as much trouble as it gave me, I'm happy to say I like this chapter.
So, I want to take this moment and just point out a few things. This is blantant ErikxChristine. Raoul lovers, please turn back now. Don't get me wrong, I do like Raoul (the actual one, not the one I portray here), but I'm an Erik fan. I like him more than Raoul.
Once again, this is not beta'd, so any mistakes are mine. Don't hesitate to tell me if you see one.
I do NOT own the Phantom of the Opera. If I did, I'd be dead. Literally. Gaston Leroux who wrote the book wrote it back at the turn of the 20th century. That was over a century ago, and since I'm still young and very much alive, I didn't write it. No money was made from writing this, it was done purely for entertainment purposes only.
Enjoy!
The Phantom's Return
"Perhaps we can frighten away the Ghost of so many years ago… with a little illumination." Auctioneer – Phantom of the Opera (2004)
Christine growled in frustration as she stopped singing and started pacing back and forth. Her hands threaded through her curly hair and she lightly tugged at the strands as she glared angrily at the floor. Why couldn't she do it? She could sing the rest of the song perfectly, and yet, that one note she couldn't reach without her voice scratching. She had done it before, sang that note clearly without problems, so why couldn't she sing it now? She was getting more and more frustrated the longer she paced. She was working on it all morning long, ever since the others left. Most of the opera house was empty, a great portion of the cast having gone out for lunch instead of staying in. She chose to remain and practice while she had a large portion of the opera house to herself. Only a couple other people stayed with her, Emily, Erik, and Carlotta. Emily had a headache and was trying to rest in her room, while Carlotta was practicing in another room on the opposite side of the opera house. Erik… well, she didn't quite know what he was doing. After everyone left, he disappeared somewhere and she hadn't seen him since breakfast. A part of her was curious and wanted to go find him, but she didn't dare. She didn't really know him all that well, and didn't know how he'd react to a nosy co-star. That and she really wanted to practice her singing. She was very nervous about playing the part of Christine and wanted to get everything perfect before she had to go on stage. Which was why she was putting in all of the extra hours.
With a heavy sigh, she pulled her hands out of her hair and walked over to the CD player located in the corner of the room. The room itself wasn't very big, being half the size of her bedroom at the Palais Garnier, but it served her purpose. The room was moderately soundproof, built that way so the singers could practice without interrupting anyone else in the opera house. Inside was a floor length mirror on one wall, a baby grand piano in the corner of another and the CD player sitting on a small table near the piano. Right then all Christine needed was the CD player. Pressing the previous button, she waited for the song to start playing. The sound of an organ filled the room as an instrumental version of The Phantom of the Opera began to play. Turning around, she faced the mirror and watched herself sing through the song until it came to the end. Determination filled her eyes as she began to sing the last few words of the song, "He's there… the Phantom of the Opera!"
Taking a deep breath, her voice rang out as she sang a single sound as much as she could, stopping only to take short breaths in between each note. The part she was having trouble came up and Christine put all the effort she had into singing it. A scream practically tore from her throat, her voice cracking at the very end. Gasping in a breath of air, she threw her hands up into the air and marched over to the CD player, stopping it from playing the next song. Tears of frustration filled her eyes as she turned and plopped down at the piano seat. She rested her elbows on the closed cover and dropped her head in her hands as she fought not to cry. It was silly, she knew, crying over not hitting a note, but she couldn't help it. She was working on it so hard and it seemed that no matter how long she worked on it, she just couldn't hit that note without her voice cracking. Her anger at herself was welling up inside of her and it was all she could do to not throw something right then and there. Not that there was much to throw in the room to begin with. The only thing that could be thrown was the CD player, and she didn't fancy replacing that when the managers of the opera house found out she broke it.
The door to the room opened and a curious Carlotta stepped inside, looking around for Christine. The Italian singer found the younger brunette sitting at the piano hunched over, her form radiating frustration and helplessness. She hitched up the skirts on the costume she was wearing and silently padded across the room to Christine, stopping just beside her. She winced slightly when the corset constricted her form even more from the simple movements. She absolutely hated wearing such an outfit, even if it was a costume, and there was no way she could even fathom wearing something on a day to day basis. As carefully as she could, so as to not frighten Christine, she placed her hand on the girl's shoulder as she spoke softly, "Child? Are you alright?"
"Carlotta," Christine said as she lifted her head up at the touch. Her startled brown eyes met those of the Italian's and she was brought out of her despair somewhat. She hadn't even heard the door open or Carlotta walk in. She really ought to be on her guard more often. It was a well known fact that Patrick Buquet liked to harass the girls. What would she have done if he walked in when she wasn't paying attention and tried to do something? Mentally shaking the thoughts from her head, she smiled slightly as she replied, "No, I'm not alright. I can't seem to reach the last note on the Phantom of the Opera song no matter how much I try."
"Oh, child…" she said with a shake of her head. Over the past few weeks, she and Christine became good friends. She didn't dare say it to the girl, but she kind of viewed her as the younger sister she always wished she had. She truly came to care about the younger woman, giving her the nickname child and helping her when she needed it. A thought popped into her head and she smiled brightly, "I know! Why don't we practice together? I'm sure between the two of us; we can get you to reach that note just fine."
A look of doubt crossed Christine's face, her mind not really believing that she'd ever make that note. If she couldn't do it on her own, what's to say she would sing it with someone else's help? She knew it was poor reasoning on her part, but she was feeling such despair at that moment that she couldn't help but doubt. Still, the happy and excited look on Carlotta's face got to her and she sighed. She supposed that it couldn't hurt to give it a try. Her smile didn't match the same intensity of Carlotta's, but it was a genuine one anyway as she replied, "Oh, why not?"
"Great!" Carlotta said as she clapped her hands together excitedly. She was happy to be helping the younger girl. She knew how much this play meant to Christine, and how hard she was working on it. The brunette hardly ever went out to do anything with the group. She usually chose to stay in and practice, earning Sir Andrew's admiration at the same time. Or rather, everyone's admiration, except those with minor parts. Even Raoul, whom she knew to be conceited, admired Christine's dedication to the role she was playing. Being able to help her now with this… it made Carlotta happy, knowing she could be useful. Turning around, she went and rewound the song to the beginning as she said, "Well, let's get started then, shall we?"
Christine stood up and made her way over to Carlotta. The older Italian woman was so excited and happy that it almost made her laugh. She refrained, though, because she didn't want to hurt her. She could tell she was happy to be helping, and that made Christine unwilling to do anything that could destroy the happy atmosphere she brought to the room. Before the song even begun, Carlotta had her singing the scales multiple times, each time making the notes higher and higher. Her voice floated out of the room and throughout the immediate area of the opera house, making the workers not related to the play inside pause and listen. Her voice truly was beautiful, and everyone could understand why she got the part of Christine. High above, in the rafters of the opera house, a dark figure paused as her voice floated upwards. It was the most heavenly thing the figure had ever heard, and they stood there for several moments, just listening to her sing. The two spent hours singing and practicing the song. By the time everyone had returned from their time in the city, Christine was able to sing the note perfectly.
It was close to 4 p.m. when everyone was called to the stage to practice the masquerade. Because it was one of the few scenes with the most people, they were taking extra time to practice it. They weren't having trouble with the spoken part of the scene, which she had to admit was mostly her and Raoul, but they were having trouble with the timing. Many of the ballerinas were rushing their movements and singing, which caused the others around them to rush. Hugh Reyer, the man who was to play M. Reyer, also turned out to be the one directing the orchestra, and them, for real. It came to a surprise to everyone the first day when Sir Andrew announced that Hugh, as he preferred to be called, was going to be directing them. It caused a nagging feeling in the back of Christine's mind, but she played it off as being nervous. It was entirely a coincidence, she was sure of it. What other explanation did she have for it? Even talking to Erik about it, which she found herself doing a lot, didn't prove anything. Sure they both agreed that it was rather hinky that there were so many seemingly coincidental things, but that's all they were. Coincidences. She tried hard to tell herself that that's all it was. Unfortunately for her, she had long ago stopped believing in coincidences.
And that is how she found herself standing on stage next to Erik listening to Hugh talk about how the scene was too fast while they all waited for Raoul. They were in full costume regalia, standing under the uncomfortable overhead lights. It was Hugh's hope that by being in full costume, they would be forced to slow down in order to move without tripping over themselves. It was a vain hope, but he had to figure out some way to make them slow down the song. It was not only throwing off that scene, but the scenes after it as well. Raoul, whom had been complaining about a lot of things the past few weeks, started to complain about that and Christine couldn't help but agree with him on it. Even though she didn't want to, she did think he was right, but she was loathed to admit it. She refused to agree to anything he said. It went straight to his head. She found that out the hard way the first time she agreed with him on a topic. It was when he came out in the tux he was supposed to wear for pretty much the duration of the play. It looked a bit too big for his frame and she verbally said she agreed when he complained about it. She regretted opening her mouth ever since. He seemed to take that a sign that she was interested in him, and that was the farthest thing from the truth. She only wanted to show that she thought it was too big on him. Every time after that, he would always ask what she thought of something, but didn't really pay attention to what she said. For the most part, she could get away with acting like she didn't hear him or not really giving a direct answer. The few rare times he was actually interested in what she said she hated, because then he wouldn't let her go until she agreed with him. A couple of those occasions found her being rescued by Erik, who seemingly popped up out of nowhere and gave her an excuse to get away from Raoul.
As the weeks went on, she found herself slowly comparing the two men against each other. She knew it wasn't fair to either of them, since she didn't really know them, but she couldn't help it. Especially with more points racking up in Erik's favor. He was always the perfect gentleman, or so she thought. He treated her with respect and kindness when they talked, never treating her as something that ought to be seen and not heard. She found herself enjoying Erik's company, and indeed seeking him out more frequently than she imagined she would. He was a brilliant man, always having something new and exciting to discuss. The topics they talked about ranged from everything about the opera, to current world news, and even to the various cultures he traveled to. There was never a dull moment around him, and even when they argued, she enjoyed it. They rarely argued over anything, but there had been a couple of times where they were too head strong to give in. It was mostly over things they disagreed about. Topics they brought up that they just couldn't find any middle ground on. The arguments were usually short and quick, ending before they even started, but were full of passion and intensity that she never experienced with anyone else. A part of her, deep inside, found herself wondering what else he could be passionate about, but she pushed those thoughts to the furthest corners of her mind and refused to think about them. There was only one time that their argument got out of hand. It turned into a full blown screaming match and drew the entire cast to her dressing room.
That day, when they were arguing, out of the corner of her eye, she saw Sir Andrew take a step into the room as if to stop them, but halted when the two promptly burst out laughing. She still wasn't sure whether they were laughing at themselves or at their co-worker's expressions. Everyone was mystified when they just started laughing in the middle of an argument. They all stood there, in her doorway, looking at them with their jaws dropped and it only made her and Erik laugh even harder. Afterward, they were forced to explain to Sir Andrew that they weren't really angry or anything. They were merely having a disagreement of opinion on something they were talking about. She distinctly remembered hearing Sir Andrew mutter under his breath that he hated to see what they would be like in a real argument. Both of them found that rather funny too. She was genuinely surprised at how well she and Erik got along.
She was jerked from her thoughts when a scream penetrated the air. At first, she thought someone was being murdered, but she instantly recognized the voice. It was Raoul's, and from the sound of it, he was more unhappy than scared. She gazed up at Erik, a confused frown on his face mirroring the one on her own, as everyone wondered what was going on. They didn't have to wait long for an answer, because Raoul came marching out onto the stage in nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. Even though it was already a half hour into rehearsal, he appeared to have just gotten out of the shower. It irked Christine because no one else could do such a thing. If any of them ended up late for rehearsal, they would be yelled at for several minutes if they were lucky. If they weren't… she didn't want to think about what would happen then. It seemed that he was the only one to get away with it. She snorted softly, an action heard only by Erik, at the thought that it was probably because of his parents that he was allowed to get away with such behavior. Still, she couldn't deny that Raoul was good looking, despite his horrid personality. His skin was tanned evenly, like he had been lying naked in the sun for hours, and it was obvious that he worked out, if the toned abs were any indication. At the current moment, water clung to his body and his normally shiny hair was dripping wet around his shoulders. A furious look was on his face and Christine had to stifle a giggle at the furious look on his face.
Hugh, whom stood down in the orchestra pit with his baton in his hand, stared up at Raoul with a look of shock on his face. It may have been because of his age, but he couldn't help the indignation that welled up inside of him at the audacity of the younger man to come out dressed in nothing but a towel. Closing his jaw with a heavy frown, he was the first out of everyone to speak as he asked, "Monsieur Larson, what in Heaven's name are you doing?"
"My clothes!" he screeched. The sound grated on Christine's nerves and it was all she could do to not wince. Keeping a hand on his towel, he marched over to where she and Erik were standing, a furious look on his face as he practically invaded the dark haired male's space with an accusatory growl, "All of my clothes are gone and have been replaced with women's clothes. I know you had something to do with this, Daeris!"
A few snickers were heard through the auditorium as some of the people on the stage laughed at the thought of Raoul in women's clothes. A sharp glare from Hugh silenced them all, but not before Raoul heard them. His face twisted in anger even more, especially when Erik didn't react to his accusation the way he thought he would. The other merely stood there for a moment before asking, "Why on earth would I do something like that?"
"You hate me!" Raoul once again screeched. By now, his face was getting rather red and he was starting to resemble a tomato. He gestured wildly with his free hand, as if to make his point even more. All it did was make him seem more dramatic than he needed to be as he continued, "Do you really need any more of a reason to do something like that?!"
As amusing as Christine found the entire situation, she couldn't help but feel rather annoyed by his accusations. Erik wouldn't do something as low as that… would he? A small part of her believed he would, if he truly hated someone. From all of their talks together, that was something he had plenty of when it came to Raoul. That didn't mean he actually went and did it, though. A lot of people hated Raoul, so it could've been anyone. Frowning, she turned to Raoul and asked, "When would he have time? He's been standing here next to me this entire time, while we've waited for you. When would he have time to go and switch your clothes, Raoul?"
Light blue eyes whipped around and stared into hers angrily. A small look of shock filtered through his eyes, almost as if he couldn't believe she was standing up for Erik and not being sympathetic to his disaster. He hadn't counted on her sticking up for the other, and it caught him off guard. He thought she would at least feel sorry for him, but from the look on her face, it was obvious she wasn't. A flash of anger, directed unjustly at her, flashed through him and he snarled, "For all I know, you helped him, Christine."
The shock that fluttered across her face made him feel rather satisfied and he didn't bother hiding the look from his face. Erik, who had been observing everything up until that point, became angry at that. There was no reason to accuse her of doing something that neither of them had any connection with in the first place! He opened his mouth to give Raoul a piece of mind when Hugh beat him to it by saying, "Now, Monsieur Larson, that is enough. Both Mademoiselle Haven and Monsieur Daeris have been here with the rest of us while we waited for you, for an hour, I might add. It is impossible that either of them had anything to do with your clothes being switched. It was probably just a prank by some kids wanting to have fun."
It was obvious that Raoul didn't believe in him. Kids just happened to pick his dressing room and change his clothes for women's clothes? That seemed about as farfetched as the Phantom of the Opera being real. It was highly impossible and he refused to believe that anyone besides Erik could have done it. He was about to say so when Emily Giry's voice interrupted him, her voice filled with confusion and a twinge of fear as she asked, "What ees zat?"
Everyone looked up at where she was pointing in confusion. They watched as a small white envelope floated down from the rafters and landed near her feet. Gingerly, she picked it up and looked down at it. In curly writing far fancier than anything she had ever seen was Raoul's name and on the back… on the back was a blotch of wax shaped like a skull. She instantly paled and started trembling. It wasn't possible! There was no such thing as the Phantom of the Opera! It was just a story! The letter, which was rather innocent in all of this, proved otherwise. One of the other ballerinas came forward and silently took the note from her and handed it to Raoul before quietly consoling the distraught girl. The poor thing was trembling like a leaf and kept muttering about the Phantom not being real.
Raoul, on the other hand, took the note calmly and ripped it open. In his opinion, Emily was overreacting over a simple little prank. The Opera Ghost was not real, and this, all of it, was nothing more than a simple little prank. Still, he was just as curious as the rest of them about what lay contained in the note. Pulling it out of the envelope and opening it, he began to read out loud:
"Dear Monsieur Larson,
By now, you will no doubt have found your clothes gone missing, only to be replaced with women's clothes. This, Monsieur, was done in the hopes that you will realize just how you come across to other people. You are entirely too selfish and you screech far too much. Just like a selfish bratty girl who does not get her way. You are far too stuck up for your own good and you cannot sing. It is my recommendation that you be replaced immediately. There are far too many people with better singing voices than you that could sing the part of Raoul de Chagny.
Monsieur Reyer and Sir Webber, I congratulate you on an otherwise stellar cast, especially that of Mademoiselle Christine Haven, and I welcome you to my Opera House. I am as excited as everyone else to see your performance of The Phantom of the Opera. I do not doubt that it will be very excellent.
To my managers, I once again request that you leave box 5 open for my personal use, especially for the premier of the show. I will forgo this month's payment if Miss Haven agrees to spend but 5 minutes with me in conversation. This, of course, will be entirely up to her as to when.
Your humble servant,
O.G."
Murmurs immediately broke out among the cast once Raoul finished reading the note. No one was sure what to think of it. Was it simply a prank, or was it really done by the "Opera Ghost?" Most agreed that it had to be a prank. There was no such thing as an Opera Ghost. It was just someone playing tricks on all of them. The note, however, suggested that such things appeared before, and would likely continue to do so. Christine stood there, her eyes wide and her mouth dropped open in shock. This O.G., this Opera Ghost, wanted to talk to her? Why her? She was nothing special. She was just a small town girl who loved to sing. It had to be a joke. There was no other explanation she was willing to accept. She couldn't fathom the possibility of it being real. It was just too impossible. Regardless, a tiny thrill ran through her at the thought of the Phantom being real. Such things didn't happen to someone like her, and yet, here she was, in the middle of something so big she was shocked and mystified.
Raoul crumpled up the letter in his fist angrily. How dare this… this… thing insinuate that he wasn't good enough for the part of Raoul de Chagny! He had the same name as the character, and practically looked exactly like the movie version of him! He knew all of Raoul's songs by heart, and often envisioned himself in the Phantom of the Opera, rescuing his true love from the hideous monster that kidnapped her. He was destined to play Raoul and there was no way he was going to let some faceless fool tell him what he was going to do and not do. A thought occurred to him and he looked up at Erik, whom was staring at the letter in his hand intently, as he said, "It's not enough to simply play the part of the Phantom, Daeris? You actually have to go and pretend to be him, too? I didn't think you would do something so low as that."
The words were meant to be cutting and mocking, aimed directly at making Erik enraged. It worked for Erik's eyes snapped up to his and glared at him angrily. The taller male could hardly believe what was coming out of Raoul's mouth. How could he believe he had anything to do with this? It was one thing to accuse him of the clothes, which he was reluctant to admit that it was the kind of thing he really would've done, if he had thought of it first. But to accuse him of trying to be the actual Phantom of the Opera was another thing. While he loved the play a lot more than he was willing to say, he wouldn't go that far to get in character. That simply wasn't like him. Without realizing it, his hands clenched at his sides, his eyes flashing from behind his mask, as he hissed, "Do you honestly think I could pull off a stunt like this? I have been here on this stage the entire time! I may be a good actor, but I am not a magician."
"Gentlemen, that is enough," the command came sharply and from behind Raoul. Erik glanced over the other's shoulder and noticed Sophia heading towards them quickly, a look of annoyance on her face. He forced his body to relax, his hands uncurling at his sides, as he waited for her to approach. Christine, whom was still standing next to him, could easily tell he was still angry, because his body was tense and his eyes were still narrowed. Raoul, for his part, did nothing more than smirking at Erik. It satisfied him greatly to see Erik get mad. Sophia came to a stop right in between them, her eyes looking back and forth between the two as she continued, "Raoul, your clothes have been found and are back in your dressing room. I suggest you go and change into them. Erik, I suggest you go walk off your remaining anger before you do something you'll regret."
The two men nodded sharply and headed in opposite directions, Raoul walking off the right wing of the stage and Erik walking off the left. Everyone stood there and watched the two walk away, a great amount of tension disappearing once they were gone. The note, which Raoul had in his hand when Sophia appeared, now lay crumpled on the stage. Sophia bent down and picked it up, smoothing it out as she prepared to take it to the managers in charge of the opera house. Turning to Hugh, she sighed and said, "Since you do not need her right away either, may I suggest that Christine go and talk with Erik? She may be able to get him to calm down quicker."
Hugh sighed heavily and nodded. As much as he wanted to practice this scene, he knew she was right. If they wanted to get this play to run smoothly, they would have to keep their leading stars from quitting. A slight smile appeared on his face as he turned to Christine and said, "I do not care very much for Monsieur Larson, Mademoiselle, so I could care less if he is still angry. Monsieur Daeris, on the other hand, we need very much. Could you please see what you could do?"
"Yes, sir," Christine replied with a nod of her head and a small bow. She turned and went towards the way Erik had disappeared to. She knew instinctively, though she couldn't exactly say how she knew, but she knew that he had gone to his dressing room. It was probably a smart move, considering the fact that running into Raoul in the hallway probably wasn't the best idea at the moment. The sound of music began to fill the corridors as the rehearsal started, despite everything that occurred mere moments before. It only took her a handful of minutes to reach Erik's dressing room and she knocked on the door gently before poking her head in and asking, "Erik? May I come in?"
Said man was standing with his back to the door at a window, glaring out at the busy Parisian street below. His arms were crossed over his chest and made him look slightly eerie in the costume he was wearing. Since it was the masquerade scene they were doing, he was dressed up in the Red Death costume. The red suit with matching cape was stretched taunt over his body and seemed very much like a second skin on him, she noticed. The bone shaped mask was a stark contrast to the natural bronze tone of his skin. She wasn't sure if the mask brought out his skin tone more or if his skin made the mask look sharper and whiter than it was. Either way, it looked absolutely amazing on him and she found herself licking her lips as her eyes trailed over his gorgeous figure. Of course, she wouldn't say that out loud, but she did think it privately to herself. Silently she padded in the room and closed the door behind her. Without saying another word, she walked over to him and stood next to him, gazing out at that the street below. Erik didn't say anything to her, and the only acknowledgement she received from him was the slight turning of his body towards her. She was patient, though. She knew he would talk when he was ready. In the meantime, she enjoyed the view of the city below.
She liked to think she knew him well enough to know when he was truly angry and when he wasn't. The few times he was truly angry, she learned well enough to not talk to him until he was ready to. Sometimes she left him alone with his thoughts and waited for him to come to her to talk. Other times, like this one, she went to him and waited silently until he was ready. He never thanked her outright for being patient with him, but she knew he was grateful. He always found ways to make it up to her afterwards, even if the argument wasn't with her. Usually he would treat her to breakfast or lunch somewhere in the city and they would simply talk about anything and everything. She enjoyed those few rare moments with him because, while he was angry, it allowed her to get to know a part of him that others didn't really see. It made her feel privileged to see him like that. Eventually, Erik slowly relaxed, the anger ebbing away from him and he unfolded his arms, resting one hand on his hip while he leaned his elbow against the window frame. Christine smiled and spoke for the first time since entering the room, "What do you think that woman down there is doing?"
She pointed to a young woman with a small child walking down the street. One hand was wrapped around the little girl's hand while the other arm was carrying a bag of groceries. Erik tilted his head as he watched them cross the street and head towards a series of apartment buildings. After a few minutes, he finally spoke, "She's a nanny for a high class rich family and that's their daughter. She just took her out to get a new toy because the girl's parents spoil her, and on her way, she picked up food for dinner. Now she's going to go home and make the girl an ice cream cone because that's what she's currently demanding. She's a spoiled, bratty child, kind of like Raoul."
A small giggle escaped Christine as she nodded her head. She doubted that the woman and the child were like that, but she couldn't be sure. For all she knew, Erik was right and the lady really was a nanny to a bratty child. Glancing around, she pointed down at another person, a man in a business suit who was strolling along casually by himself. Erik, still looking at the lady and child, turned his gaze towards where she was pointing and looked at the business man. He crossed his arms again, only this time, he tapped his chin with his fingers thoughtfully as he considered what the man could be like. A few moments later, he said, "He is a distinguished gentleman out for a lovely spring stroll. He's out looking for the perfect ring to propose to his girlfriend next week. She's a successful artist, so he knows not just any ring will do. He wants to find the perfect one for her."
Christine nodded seriously this time. The businessman looked like that was exactly what he was out doing. She could easily see the man going into jewelry shops trying to find the perfect ring for his girlfriend. A stab of loneliness went through her at the thought of having someone to be romantic with, but she brushed it away. She didn't have time to be dating. She was contemplating another person when Erik turned to her fully and smiled gently as he said, "Thank you, Christine."
It was the first time hearing him say thank you, and it shocked her slightly. With a start, she realized he wasn't only thanking her for being patient with him today, but for all the other times she was patient with him. It touched her and made her unbelievably happy. A sweet smile crossed her lips as she nodded her head briefly and replied, "You're welcome."
He turned and walked over to a chair in the room and sat down with a heavy sigh. He hated it when Raoul got to him so much. He wasn't worth getting angry over, and yet, that's exactly what Erik ended up doing a lot. It annoyed him greatly that he let Raoul get to him. He made to run a hand through his hair and grimaced when he came in contact with the gel that made his hair look slicked back. Absently wiping his hand on his pants, he said quietly, "I don't know how I'm going to put up with him for the next few months. Whoever that O.G. is, they were right that he ought to be replaced."
"I know, I agree," Christine said as she walked over to him and boldly perched on the arm of his chair. She too agreed with the mysterious O.G. and thought Raoul ought to be replaced. He brought none of the finesse and kindness to Raoul that the character needed. Raoul wasn't her favorite in the story to begin with, but with him playing the part, she was starting to hate the character. She knew it was unfair to the character, but she couldn't help it. It was hard to like a character when you hated the person playing them. She gently patted Erik's arm as she said, "As for dealing with him, we'll just have to do it together. If we work together, I'm sure we can keep the other from punching his lights out."
"I don't know how effective that will be," Erik admitted with a small chuckle. It was a good idea, but there was only one problem with it. Christine might be able to keep him from decking Raoul, but he wasn't so sure he'd be willing to stop her from doing it. He probably would end up punching Raoul with her. And that would be a problem.
"Well, I'll keep you from punching him," she said with a knowing smile, immediately picking up on what he meant. As for herself, she'd just work at avoiding him better. The less time she spent with the buffoon, the easier it was to resist hitting him. A glance at the time told her that it was probably time to head back to the rehearsal, so she asked, "Will you be okay?"
"I'll be fine," came the automatic response from him. He didn't mean for it to come out so quickly, but it was true. He would be fine eventually, he just had to let the last few tendrils of anger slide away before he could face the fop again. He too glanced at the clock and murmured, "Why don't you head back? I'll be there in a few minutes."
"Okay," she said as she stood up. A sudden idea popped into her head and she bent down quickly before he could do anything and wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. A blush started to cross her cheeks as she whispered into his ear, "Don't take too long in here. I need you out there with me."
And with that, she let go of him and left the room, leaving a shocked and flustered Erik behind. The blush on her cheeks darkened and she dropped her head so her hair covered her face. She was highly embarrassed now that she randomly hugged him like that, but she couldn't stop herself. He looked so forlorn and lost that she had to hug him. She intended to say that they all needed him out there, but the words slipped out of her mouth before she could stop them. Now that she was away from him and able to think about it, she wasn't sure she wanted to take them back. She really did need him out there with her. He filled her with confidence and made everything feel easy and natural. It was embarrassing to admit, but without him, she wasn't sure she'd be able to play her part as good as she was. Without realizing it, she was beginning to view him as her own Angel of Music, and a part of her wasn't sure if that was a good thing.
Well, there you have it. The second chapter.
Don't forget to review and tell me what you think! Flames, as usual, will be used to cook my dinner.
Jaa!
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A Phantom's Love