Perfect Strangers

Act III: Erik & Meg

Trembling, Meg knocked on her own door using her knuckles and trying very hard not to shake. Though, she supposed she didn't look much like Meg Giry any more. Her normally blond, long hair was pinned up in a hairnet, with a wig full of dark ginger curls covering them. It wasn't the most alluring, she'd admit, but there weren't many wigs that looked as realistic as this one. Once she had done her makeup, Meg could hardly be recognized. She had slipped into a plain, but slightly more revealing dress than most would wear on the streets. She'd even taken her costume for a test run, walking straight through Phantasma, where most of her fellow performers were practising or chatting. The only thing Meg had gotten from them were stares that said, "Who's the ginger?" She had just smiled and made her way home. She had been so confident, but now, every flaw in her plan had come to mind. What if he sees through the makeup? What would he do? And what if everything goes according to plan? How will I EVER be able to live again? I should die of embarrassment if I ever hear his voice again, and would never be able to have another client. Supposing he buys it for a short time, then something awful happens, like my wigs fall off or he sees through the makeup? How would either of us react?

Meg was terrified, shaking in the boots she had borrowed from costuming as the door opened slowly. She looked up at the figure that had opened the door and looked anywhere but his eyes; Meg couldn't muster up the courage to make contact just yet. However, she saw that his mask was a bit different from the one he always wore. For one, it was black instead of eggshell white, and looked like it was made of a softer material. It covered not only the ruined half of his face, but the other half as well. There were two holes for eyes, and the mask still allowed him to breathe and revealed his mouth. The inside of the house was all too familiar, and she'd have to remember that she was playing the part of a stranger who had no clue as to the layout of the house. It was her most shining role, and yet, no one but her would know.

"Miss Piper, I presume," Erik said, somewhat stiffly. Meg kept her gaze away from his, and instead stared at his lips, which were somewhat interesting. Although they weren't as horrifying as the ruined part of his face, you could tell something wasn't right about them. They weren't a normal pair of human lips, and Meg nearly blushed at the thought that in minutes, they could easily be touching her own.

"Yes," she said, in a voice a bit higher than her own, but not too faked. She hoped it didn't sound too much the same as her normal voice. "Mister Y." She almost sighed with relief when he seemed to buy it, and stepped out of her way and allowed her to walk through the doorway.

Closing the door behind her softly, Meg turned to Erik, smiling out of nervousness and of what was to happen in moment's time. She had finally worked up the courage to look at him and stared into his golden-green eyes.

Erik glanced away from her, and looked towards the living room. It was hard for him to look at this woman, the very thought that he... he would be betraying Christine with her was so difficult for him to grasp. I'm not betraying her, he thought. This has nothing to do with Christine. It's just to satisfy my need and get Meg Giry off my mind. I can't afford to have her come anywhere close to my angel's place. He didn't know how this worked, it wasn't like he'd hired a harlot before. Erik really hadn't given much thought to how things would happen besides the fact that he would go mad without another person's touch again. He hadn't realized how awkward this confrontation would really be.

"I suppose that-" he began, but was suddenly cut off by Sandra nearly attacking him. She had wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her face into his. In surprise, his brain shut down. How did kissing work? Was there a technique? He wondered if he was doing it right, but remembered that he didn't care for whoever this woman was. Why should she get any pleasure out of this? So he tried pushing any thought of Christine and Meg out of his mind, closed his eyes, and tried to hold up his end of the kiss.

Meg's mind was reeling, and she thought she might be getting dizzy. She was kissing him! After all this time, nine years of waiting! Too many 'suitors' had come before this, she realized that she had waited much too long. His mask didn't make much of a difference, only the fact that instead of skin rubbing against hers, it was cloth rubbing against her forehead. Maybe he wasn't the best kisser, and maybe he was a bit more rusty with it than other men she'd been with, but knowing that it was the man she'd fallen in love with made everything so much more surreal and amazing.

Erik broke apart from her, catching his breath. Meg bit her lip, holding back a giggle. "First time, sweetie?" she asked, trying so very hard not to smile. She'd said this to many a man, almost a tease, when they were out of breath.

"Of course not," he growled, and pressed his face back into hers quickly with plenty of force. She couldn't help it any longer and smiled against his lips as she kissed him with all the passion she could offer. It wasn't the time to hold back, if she died tomorrow, she wanted to be satisfied with tonight's work.

Erik tried to remember how it had happened with Christine, nine years before. One thing had led to another, and everything had just happened in a rush. He thought that Sandra was expert enough, and she'd know when to move on from the kissing. Honestly, Erik didn't really know if he wanted to move on at all. Hell, he didn't know if he even liked the kissing! It seemed that this woman was putting forth her best effort, but he didn't know her. It wasn't like the passion he had experienced with Christine. He had known her so well that everything had seemed so perfect. He had assumed it had always been like that with every woman, but it wasn't. The feeling of kissing her was so much less than the thought of kissing Christine.

But... Christine was gone, he thought in a sudden flood of realization. As he stood there, kissing Sandra, he realized that for nine years, he had waited for Christine to come back, living every day only in remembrance of her. He might have died if it weren't for her.

Actually, if it weren't for another, he might have died anyway. If it wasn't for Meg, he would've died long ago. The more he thought, the more Christine's faults came to mind. Christine hadn't saved him, Christine had left him, then came back for one glorious night. After that, there was nothing. It wasn't passion that had driven Christine, he thought, it was pity. She gave him her body because she pitied him. Nothing was real any longer, and a dull numbness overcame him as he thought clearly for the first time in nine years.

Christine Daae was a married woman, and who knows where she was now. To Erik, Christine was dead. It was painful, and he felt his heart dying a little, but it sprung back to life with the thought that replaced Christine. All he had seen was Christine for so long that he had been blinded to his surroundings. There were people around him who cared for him, and didn't shy away initially. There was one young woman who was creeping into his thoughts, and this time, he didn't try to stop them from coming.

Meg had been there to save him, along with help from her mother. For years they had helped him, and although they had took his savings (20,000 francs a month for years on end can really add up to a fortune) to help them survive and deal with Phantasma, they had been more kind to them than he deserved. Although Meg wasn't nearly as gorgeous as his angel, Erik had noticed how plainly pretty he was. Granted, he didn't see too much of her, but when he did, she was always smiling, full of happiness without a care. He wasn't quite sure of her talent or ability, and felt just a bit guilty for not taking her offer to see at least one her shows. He knew she wasn't even close in comparison with Christine, but he was curious to see what potential she could have.

What snapped Erik back into reality was a hand unbuttoning his shirt. He felt each slip of buttons, and realized that his shirt was being taken off. His train of thought had been so completely distracted that he had paid nearly no attention to the woman who was desperately clinging on to him, preparing to do the very sinful thing she called her business. He knew that he couldn't do this, not with the epiphany that had just broken through. So he raised his hands up and pushed her away from him. Her own hands retracted, leaving the rest of the buttons done up, and they retreated back to her own body. Sandra breathed hard, and Erik sighed as he wiped his mouth of her saliva. Now that he thought of it, he couldn't understand why on earth he would ever have hired a woman he didn't know to do such an intimate thing. The thought of a stranger's spit mixed with his made him disgusted now.

"Is there something wrong?" Meg asked breathlessly. She was shaking, and hoped it didn't show too much. Every perfect second she had savoured, the feeling of her mouth working against his was more magical than that of any man she'd ever had the pleasure (or displeasure) to kiss. She hadn't wanted to ever stop, and as she'd gotten closer to the main goal, he had suddenly pulled away.

"I'm sorry. I can't do this," Erik mumbled, quickly re-buttoning his shirt up. Meg's heart skipped a few beats and it felt as though it was stabbed through with a stake.

"S-stop?" she asked, still shaking. Stop? How could she ever stop now? She was so close to the thing she'd always dreamed of, and he couldn't do it! She knew why, too, and knowing it made her feel all the worse.

"Yes," he sighed. "If this has been any inconvenience to you, please accept my apologies, and know that you'll still be paid for all this trouble. But understand that I'm not nearly as ready for this as I hoped."

"Are you sure?" Meg nearly pleaded. Now that she had broken character, it was impossible to stop. Why bother any longer? "You might as well get your money's worth if you're paying for it."

"I'm quite sure. Allow me to grab your money and you can be on your way home," Erik said, turning to leave. But Meg couldn't stop talking.

"You shouldn't be spending money so freely!" she cried out, forgetting her false voice. "Any hard-working person wouldn't so freely give away $100, not just for a kiss or two! People like me have to make a living off such a sinful business, and here you are! The high and mighty Mister Y, burning his cash like wood!"

Erik was surprised at her words, she could tell. Her face was burning, but with rage or embarrassment she wasn't quite sure. He turned around to look at her, confusion plainly written across his face.

"Excuse me?" Erik asked, a bit flabbergasted. This crazy woman was too worked up to care that he had turned on the electric lights and was now looking deep into her eyes. He thought she had something familiar about her, but what was it? As he looked deeper, he came to the starling realization of how unique the green of this perfect stranger's eye's were. Either the colour was more common than he thought, or...

"God almighty, if I have to deal with another person who isn't like you, who would rather keep the money AND me for their little sex toy, I'll die! What you don't know, Mister, is what I go through day in and day out! There's a man that I love, and he won't even notice me! He thinks I'm a complete-"

"Meg?" Erik asked quietly, his own eyes getting wider. Meg stopped mid-sentence, her mouth still wide open. She was frozen with fear. He knew now. It was exactly what she feared, and she thought if only she could vanish, the world would be a much, much better place. Meg tried to make words, but only let out a squeak. Her hands flew to her mouth and her pupils shrunk.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, fleeing for the door.

Her flight was cut short however, by a "Wait!" and a strong hand grasping her shoulder. Meg stopped, and felt tears pricking at her eyes. She didn't try to hold them back, and began to let the tears freely fall. "Wait..." Erik repeated, and turned her around.

Meg's make-up was ruined, and only now could he see how fake the ginger wig really looked. Erik brain was still trying to comprehend the situation, and thought they both needed to sit down and talk as quickly as possible. "Go... go wash yourself up. Get out of those prostitute's clothes, and meet me in the kitchen when you're through."

Feebly, she nodded, and through her sobs, made her way up the staircase. Once in the bathroom, she wept while she carefully peeled the wig back from her head and let her blond hair flow free again in a semi-frizzy mess. She stripped herself of the clothing and pulled on a nightgown that was less revealing and a hundred times more comfortable. Her tears mixed with the water and she washed her face from the make-up and glitter, leaving her to look at a completely different girl in the mirror than the one she'd seen before. It wasn't the grinning ginger prostitute who had so much confidence and a devious scheme. It was little Meg Giry, the one that she hadn't seen in such a long time. No make-up, tangled hair, and an unattractive, rotten-peach coloured nightgown. Her red, tear stained face made her whole being pitiful. She looked just like what she felt.

All the energy and hope she'd had before was drained. She had been so sure that she would wake up in the morning in Erik's bed, that she had forgotten the fact that she might be caught. What would he think of her now? A pitiful excuse for a human being, she sourly thought. How could he even look twice at me ever again without labelling me as a prostitute? She didn't bother putting on make-up, but did run through her hair once with a brush. With her bare face, barely neat hair, and red cheeks, she slowly made her way down the stairs, dreadfully awaiting whatever Erik was going to say or question her about.

Meg was a bit surprised to see that in the time she'd sobbed and changed, Erik had made two cups of tea, one for himself and she assumed the other was for her. He was sitting at the small table in their kitchen, his face with the expression of concentration on it, his cup left as alone as Meg's. The cups sat there, untouched and still steaming. With a sigh, Meg stepped into the kitchen and took her seat. Erik had turned his attention towards her the moment she stepped into the light, and kept his eyes fixated upon her.

For a moment, the two of them sat there in silence, the only sound being the rain lightly hitting the roof upstairs. Erik was staring at Meg, and Meg was trying to look anywhere but at him, and trying to hold back tears. She dared not cry in front of him again. Luckily, the patterns in the wood of the table were fascinating, and she fixated her gaze upon them. Eventually, Erik spoke.

"I'd like to hear an explanation," he said. Meg looked up from the wood of the table and directly at him.

"An explanation of what?" she asked in all seriousness.

"Everything. To begin with, I'd like to know why you were dressed like... that," he said, searching for the right word. Meg shamefully looked back down at the wood. How could she begin to explain?

"I suppose... I should begin with that. Ever since mother and I brought you here to America, money has been so tight. After the price of the house, it was hard to even pay for food. When you got your idea for Phantasma, we tried so hard to make ends meet, but we realized we were so in debt, that we wouldn't be able to even pay for the house any more. Our landowner was going to make us leave, and we'd be homeless and penniless, so I suppose it all began there. Mother, with her age and inability to work was no use. It was lucky for us that our landowner was so easily convinced to lower the price of our home..." Meg trailed off, then glanced up at Erik. His face was unmoved, but Meg thought maybe he was a bit paler than normal, and continued on.

"From then on, it came to our notice that many a man paid a pretty penny to have one night with the Ooo-La-La Girl, and for nine years now, we've been able to keep up rent, make Phantasma a soaring success, and soon, I'll be able to buy a new set of dresses for the Spring. Of course, it's not what I would've chosen, but it keeps the bills paid," she said, then fell silent. They waited in silence once more, Meg awaiting a comment from him.

Erik was shocked, if anything. For nine years, his large fortune had sat there, barely touched, and here, Meg had sold her body to strangers for scraps of food. His mind tried to deny it, but in his underused conscience, he felt beyond guilty. He internally debated whether he should tell her about it or not. He decided that he would tell her, but he couldn't tell her at that waking moment. He needed to hear more from her. "I see... but I imagine you knew I was to be your next client. You didn't decline it."

Meg cringed a little. He didn't ask it, but said it in an accusing tone. She stared at the table as she thought. Eventually, she found her voice. "Yes... I did know. And I didn't decline for a number of reasons. One hundred dollars is a hell of a lot of money to me, and if I turned it down, I would've been a fool," she smiled a little bit. "And then... I suppose..." she trailed off, blushing bright red. Erik was unhelpfully silent and Meg sighed. "I've done enough damage tonight, so saying this won't make things any worse. I'm in love with you, Erik. It took me a few years to realise it, to get past... anyway, that doesn't matter. I know how much in love with Christine you are, and I saw how this might be my only opportunity to get something I've wanted for a while. There, you have it, are you happy?" A tear fell from Meg's eye as her voice got louder, eventually cracking when she said 'Happy'. Her vision was blurred, and she couldn't bear to look at him.

Erik had always caught her flirtatious smiles and way of speech, but he had never thought she was this deep in. It wasn't a surprise, but was rather an eye-opener to him. He looked silently at Meg as she sat weeping. She sniffed and choked out a small laugh. "I look pitiful, don't I?" He hated to see her like this, but realized something he had never before.

Meg wasn't the woman he thought he'd known. The Meg Giry he knew was full of smiles and compliments, without a care in the world, with minimal knowledge. She was different, so familiar and yet, a perfect stranger. This Meg was much different. Her red, wet face showed her true, hidden emotions, but even then, she was trying to smile through her tears. The warm electric light illuminated her tear-stained face, giving her the appearance of a weeping angel of sorts. She was intelligent, and although she wasn't the most gorgeous of women, he couldn't boast he was by any standard the handsomest man on earth, either. Meg was hard working, and he was lucky that she liked him. Erik didn't know this Meg as well, but he was sure that he loved this Meg even more than the old one. And he was certainly ready to get to know her better.

Carefully choosing his words, Erik began to speak. "Crying doesn't make you pitiful, it only makes you stronger, Meg. I'm sorry that you had to go through all of what you have over the past nine years, and if I could, I would change all of that. But I promise you that you will never have to act as a prostitute again. During my days at the Opera, I made 20,000 francs a month. I still have most of my savings, and I thought you and your mother had made ends meet using that. If I had ever known you were doing such an awful thing, I never would've let it happen."

It was Meg's turn to be in shock. Nine years... all the people she'd been with... it was all for nothing. She hadn't needed any of that. Nine miserable years of her life that had resulted in humiliation and anger. And now, the only man she'd ever cared for, admitted that he had money the whole time. She felt anger boiling up inside her. But instead of yelling, the anger was suddenly converted to sadness. Her tears got stronger and poured more heavily.

Erik had feared her reaction would be something like this, so he bit his lip, knowing what he was about to do was somewhat risky, and rose up from his chair. He walked to the heavily sobbing figure. He grabbed her hands and jerked her up as non-harshly as he could. She looked up at him through her tears, her sobs turning into gentle whimpers.

The world slowed down as Erik reach a hand down, gently raising her chin up towards his face, and after she finally looked at him, he bent down and slowly planted a kiss on her wet lips. She gasped into his mouth, but he just held her closer to him. She eventually realized what was happening and closed her eyes, contributing her part to their first real kiss, as Erik and Meg.

They both softly pulled away after a moment, and through the remnants of her tears, Meg sniffed and looked up at his sparkling golden-green eyes. "Meg, I can't change what's happened. If it was possible, none of us would be in this damned country. But I've come to realize that my obsession has gone on much too long. It's time I moved on. And there is nothing I want to see more than you happy. You'll never have to work like that again."

"D-do you mean it?" she whispered.

"I think I might love you, Meg," Erik said, admitting his thoughts.

Some of the colour in Meg's face returned and a small grin sprung up. "Does that mean that you'll come to one of my shows?" she asked hopefully.

Erik chuckled and planted a kiss on her forehead. "Yes, I'll come see your shows."

It was Meg's turn to reach up and kiss him, and although this time it was quick, Erik felt the happiness that was circulating through her. "You know, all of this, it was only for you."

"Then lets test these waters. Neither of us have been in any sort of relationship in a long time, and we shouldn't rush things too much," Erik said firmly.

"Agreed," Meg said, then chuckled. "Once mother hears of this, she'll be tickled pink. She's been trying to get you to notice me for quite some time, now."

"It seems to have finally worked," Erik said with a small smile. "Now I propose we drink our tea before it freezes over, and then we should be off to our own, separate beds."

Meg nodded, and with that, a new sort of romance blossomed between the two people who weren't quite prefect strangers any longer.

A quick note:

Weeping Angel! XD XD XD LOLOLOLOL If you get the reference, you deserve a bag of jelly babies and a bow tie! I also get that this isn't perfect, but it seldom seems that anything in LND is perfect either. Also, the number of words in this story is over nine thousaaaaaaand! :D

Also, thank you SO much to any and everyone who left their reviews! Each and every one is read and replied to, and each one boosts my moral! So thank you thank you THANK YOU! :D

Best Wishes,

Aktress.