Angel Of Music

Fixing Mistakes

Erik's point of view

The boat I had caught to America had just docked in Coney Island, and I ran off.

My phone rang, and I berudgingly answered it.

"Erik Destler of Masked Inc., how may I help you?"

"Papa... where are you?" It was Gustave.

"Darling, I'm trying to fix my many mistakes."

He was crying. "Papa, Trixie isn't here. And Mandie's working. Im all alone and I'm scared!"

I mentally slapped myself. "Gustave, I will be home in no time, I'm just trying to find Patricia. I promise that nothing will happen to you."

"Papa!"

"Darling... ummm... prehaps just work with Amanda until I get back? Help her out. Tell her to call me."

"O-okay Papa. I-I'll see you s-soon?" He asked me.

"Of course, my precious Gustave. I love you, my darling."

"I love you too, Papa." He said, hanging up.

I found my way to the carriages.

Where would she go?

The American opera house, most likely...

I got in a carriage, directing the driver to the Opera hotel.

I called Mandie.

"Bonjour, c'est Amanda, du le corporation Masked." She answered.

I could picture her now, she was probably just sitting down somewhere. She was a plump lady, with short and limp red hair, freckles, green eyes, and an attitude.

"Amanda, I need you to watch Gustave."

"Monsieur, I am at work!" She protested.

"As am I, but in America. Bring him to work with you. If anything happens to him, you no longer have a job."

She started to make excuses and panic, and I hung up.

We pulled up to the hotel, and I payed the driver.

I entered the hotel, marvelling at the interior of it. The rich colours and fabrics matched the lovely tapestries and statuettes. It reminded me so much of my opera house in Paris that was taken from me, and I felt tears well in my eyes.

I walked up to the service desk.

"Hello, sir. Do you have a reservation?" The lady asked, kindly.

"Bonjour, madamoiselle. Is there a Patricia Giry residing here?"

She pressed her lips into a line. "I apoligize sir, but I can't give out that information."

Desperation must have filled my face, for she said quietly, "But I can tell you that she's not not here."

"May I speak to her? I came all the way from Paris to see her..."

She shook her head. "Je suis désolé, monsiour. Madmoiselle Giry is not accepting guests."

My face fell. "Oh..."

She offered me a sad smile, and a pass to the hotel restaraunt.

I shuffle over there, and grabbed a bowl of chowder.

I ate my chowder slowly, trying to figure out what to do now.

I didn't even notice when a person sat across from me, claiming there were no other seats.

I didn't notice the multicoloured hair. I didn't notice the burning green eyes.
I didn't notice the girl I had been searching for.

I finished my quick meal, and left the hotel, heading to my own hotel.

Trixie's point of view

My heart was confused, as Erik left without saying anything.

Maybe he didn't see me...?

I shook my head. He must have seen me.

I sighed, and continued to eat my meal.

Why was he here?

I gasped, and pushed my food away, running after him.

I got outside, just in time to see his coat vanish into a carriage as it pulled away.