CONEY ISLAND

*INTERNAL SCREAMS*

The kiss seemed endless.

Yet it only lasted for three seconds. Erik moved away, leaving Christine to hang there, sobbing.

"Please," she pleaded but he simply replied with a 'No,' and 'Don't you remember who you belong to?' and a 'you've got a son'.

"But--"

"Christine. Please." She wanted to tell him everything about Gustave and "who she belongs to," but then she remembered about Meg and thought it may be more important to help her friend first.

Erik, now facing the wall, took a deep breathe and said, "Dress fitting's over." When she didn't move, he added a "Go home, Christine."

"No."

"No?"

"I'm not going home."

Erik was confused. "Uhm, yes, yes you are?" he said not really convincingly.

"No. I came here to talk to you about Meg and I'm not leaving until we do."

"Ugh," groaned Erik, but still turned around to Christine.

"What happened to her?" Christine sat down, with a desperate look on her face. "She used to be so sweet and caring and now... Now she's so arrogant and rude!"

"Ahh Christine," Erik said, touching her chin lightly. His pure angel.  "I guess she went solo," he said. "I don't think there's much you can do about it..."

"I went solo and I didn't turn out such a bitch!"

"Well," said Erik looking at her. "You had a great teacher."

That forced a smile out of Christine. "I want her back, Erik," she said. "Help me, please!"

"Anything for you, my dear," he reassured her with a forced smile, knowing that she won't like what she'll hear. "I'll ask around the park." Christine smiled. "Now, should I escort you home?" he asked.

Christine went pale as memories of what had happened to her few moments ago started haunting her mind. "C-can I stay here for the night?" she asked.

"I don't know what your husband will --"

"Please?"

"Alright, but you leave first thing in the morning," he told her. "Now excuse me while I take care of the bodies," he told her grabbing his phone.

"W-what're you gonna do with them?" she asked, kind of freaked out. She just hoped that he won't bring them in his house. The smell must be horrible.

"I have a friend that uhm gets rid of them." He smiled pleased with himself and walked out.

A friend? Christine was surprised to learn that Erik had friends. It was mean, she knew it, but she never thought of it. Then again, according to Meg, he had loads of female friends. Maybe that's why he didn't accept her love. Because he has other women? Because in those ten years he got afraid of commitment? Christine was furious. She started getting up. She walked to the door, opened it and started walking out. She was so mad that she didn't even notice a Persian stranger standing right there. She bumped into him, causing them both to fall down the stairs.

"Who the hell are you?!" she yelled at him.

"What the hell are you doing in my house?!" he yelled back.

"wHO THE HELL ARE YOU?!?!" she screamed at him.

"Nadir, nice to meet you, now wHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING IN MY HOUSE?!?!?!"

"ERIK BROUGHT ME HERE!"

"OH. WELL ANY FRIEND OF ERIK'S IS A FRIEND OF MINE!"

His expression went from mad to nice-to-meet-ya in two seconds which confused the tired Christine very much.

"So," she said carefully examining him. "You're one of Erik's friends?"

"Pfff," Nadir puffed. "I'm his only friend."

"Only male friend, right?" Christine carefully asked.

Nadir thought about it for a moment. "Nope. His only friend."

"Hmm..." Christine was to tired to think sober and all she had in mind was Erik with his ladies chilling in Nadir's house. "Does he often bring girls here?" she asked.

"Nope," Nadir shot at her. "In fact, you're the first one! Which makes you special." He extended his arm. "I'm Nadir Khan."

"Christine Daae - erm De Chagny," she quickly corrected. After all these years she still couldn't get used to it.

Nadir's jaw dropped open. "Uhm.... Erm... Humm.... Well... You should go." He said pushing her out, closing the door behind her. He leaned onto the door, breathing heavily as he wiped the sweat off of his forehead.

HIYA SORRY ALSO YAY NADIR ALSO DOES ANYONE HAVE A TUMBLR?