Erik's POV
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We sat in the car, parked on the corner of the street looking out at the lot that I would be finding myself purchasing in a few short hours. To talk about the performance would be to discuss a large bunch of tangled nerves that erupted into a mass of complete stomach-flipping relief. The performance was grand. Charlotte sang with the beauty of a morning sunrise accompanied by a gaze over the clear ocean, and I played to my heart's satisfaction and to Monsieur Worthington's great admiration.
For once in a long while I was nervous about performing. The way Master Alex rung his hands and paced got me on edge and caused the hairs on the back of my neck to stand stiff. But I brushed it off once the grand Monsieur walked through the doors. He was a stately fellow. Dressed in a fine, three piece suit and tie with all the poise and grandeur of royalty to say the least. And once I learned he was a master of the sciences as well as a lover of the arts, I found myself at a greater ease and some sense of companionship with the man.
But all of that was past, nearly three hours past. Now Charlotte, Alex, and I sat in the couple's small car staring out at the rubble and dirt that would soon become the great new venture and hopefully a splendid opera house.
"What do you think of it?" Alex asked, looking over at me and then beyond me to spot the land again.
"It is bare. Spacious. I think it will do quite well." I commented, leaning back a little but keeping my eyes on the property. I was already imagining the grand structure. Maybe I could convince the man to let me model it off of the Opera Populaire. It was a long shot, but I think with enough money floated in front of his face he would allow it. Not to say he was a greedy prick like some, but I think he was in this project deep enough to be swayed farther than he realized by monetary bribes.
"You already have plans, don't you Erik?" Charlotte asked over my shoulder as she had taken the back seat.
"I have an idea, but only if your husband will allow it." I turned slightly to give her a smile.
"I'm sure Alexander would be pleased with any suggestions you have. Wouldn't you, love?" She turned to face her husband and placed a hand on his shoulder. I spotted a light but deliberate squeeze take place before Alex nodded and went to remove Charlotte's hand for a relief.
"Any idea is a welcomed idea." Alex said, kissing his wife's hand and giving me a half-forced smile.
I chuckled a little and looked back out the window. "Would you mind if I just spotted the land?" He asked.
"Not at all." Alex said, motioning for him to be free to do so. "I actually insist upon it, seeing that you will be the primary patron."
I moved to get out of the car and took a careful look before walking across the road to the empty lot. Potential. Potential. Potential. All I could think. My mind began to lay each brick and arrange each seat. Lighting here. Statue there. Marble here. Stage there. Such potential.
The click of heels against the pavement turned my head back to find Charlotte had followed behind. She cast me a smile, stepping over a bit of the rubble that had taken up home in the lot.
"You look like you're envisioning the Roman Colosseum." She joked, coming up beside me.
"Ha, nearly." I replied and tossed her a smile.
"Alexander told me everything." Her topic transition was swift, but her attitude remained the same light and cheery bit it had before.
I turned to look at her more directly. "What do you mean?"
"What you really do. Where you're really from. Etcetera."
"I have not a clue what you mean." I played her off, turning to look back at the lot with the cool demeanor that I typically kept.
"You're from the north of France, Paris actually. You work at a lovely little music shop there with a partner too. Alexander found you there, and you played him a bit, the same bit he claims that he wrote himself although now I know that you gave it to him. He told you the sad story that is our struggling opera house, and you felt compelled to help the cause. More detail here and there, but basically you've been staying at the hotel across L'Aria for nearly three-to-four days now writing pieces for my husband to take credit for. Is that or is that not factual?" She turned to face me, arms crossed at her breasts and her face dancing between its usual sweetness and a corrective, motherly glance that demanded you tell the absolute truth.
I turned to face her and caught her eyes. The green orbs dancing with the confidence that she knew she was right. I knew she was right. She was right. There was no getting around that. The idea was that Alex had crumbled under some force that could only be held by a wife who knew how to get the information that she wanted whenever she wanted it.
The moment I tore from her eyes I must have cracked just a hair line bit but that was all she needed.
"I knew it." She said, a near bit of laughter in her voice. "Why didn't you boys just tell the truth?"
"It is not a matter of telling the truth as so much as Alex did not want to appear as a failure to this business." I said, probably speaking slightly out of term for Alex's cause.
Charlotte turned back to look at the lot. "I know he feels like this is a dead end sort of thing. I cannot blame him. His heart was never into music. He's a lover of the sciences and mathematics. He does this because of his father. Sometimes I wonder if that is why he married me too."
I looked at her with my brow furrowed. "Why do you say that?"
"I am a lover of music, much like your self. When I was much younger, I practically lived and breathed for it. It was my life, as my father was a professor at a conservatory. He conducted many great plays and operas, so I knew a good deal of how those things went about and such. When I was eighteen I met Alexander through a tour brought about by the many musical academies of the time. I cannot say what form of love brought us together, but after I talked with him I knew there was something about him I adored. How he felt about me, I am not quite certain. I say that only because I know he was never into music. As I said it was something he did for his father -- Monsieur Worthington. The Monsieur is a charming man, but I must say that he pushes his children down paths I know they do not wish to take."
"So, why do you say that you wonder about your marriage?" I asked, becoming curious of this saddened yet elegant woman's story.
"I sometimes feel like Alexander married me for my knowledge of the arts of music. I feel like perhaps it was an aid to him, or so he thought it would be. He drawls many blanks. He cannot write a fair piece to save his life. He's hopelessly lost in a world where he does not belong. No bunch of tutoring could help his poor soul. He desires inspiration for something that is unattainable. It is nonsensical. All of it. Even this new opera house." Charlotte's voice wavered as she continued to talk.
I turned to her, catching her cover her mouth as soft sobs began to over take her. Her eyes weld with tears. She was hurting or she had been hurting for so long, and now it was all coming forth. I took her too me more so out of a sudden whim. Her head rested against my chest as she sobbed. I looked out toward the car to find our figures blocked by a large bit of rubble.
"Shh, come now, it is all right." I tried to be some form of comfort.
She just stayed in my arms, drawn close to me. I could not let her go now. It was too personal. All I could hear was her gentle sobs muffled more so by my shirt and the subtle roar of Valiance street traffic.
"You know he loves you." I pushed. "If he would not love you, he would not be going through all this trouble to find a way to keep this business afloat. He knows you love this life, this music. He wants the best for you. He struggles, yes, but he struggles for you because he loves you. That is it. Plain and true. I cannot think that a man would lie his way this far without loving a woman so much to keep something she loves alive. No. No that would be foolish of any other man to do but yours."
Her sobs had stopped midway through my discourse. She pulled away from me, wiping her eyes delicately as not to mess with her makeup. "Erik...you are a charmer." She laughed somewhat sorrowfully. "I appreciate your words. They are helpful. I see why Alex has taken a liking to you." She smiled weakly and took one of my hands in her own.
I looked at her a moment and smiled back. She was a good woman. She deserved more credit for her actions that was for sure. I took her hand to my lips and kissed it gently. "I hope you realize those words to be true." I said softly.
She nodded and slowly pulled her hand from mine, although there was some reluctance I felt on her end to do so. "We ought to get back to the car. Alexander is probably thinking you've started to map out the whole structure."
I laughed and put my hand gently on her back to guide her along. "Ah, well that would be like me. Tell me, when is the last time you've had a performance at L'Aria?"
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Ella's POV
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I sat silently on the edge of the hotel room bed, my eyes fixed to my coin purse. I had no more than two-hundred euros left to my name. This was awful. It was not nearly enough to put up another night's rent at the hotel. I could perhaps afford groceries for another few weeks, but what good would those be if we had no place to cook or better yet no place to really sleep.
Tears came into my eyes, but I quickly wiped them away. I could not cry in front of Arthur. Currently, my little darling sat peacefully in front of the television, engrossed in its entertaining glow. I smiled slightly, but even his precious self could not keep me from wanting to cry. Even as I looked at him it only reminded me of my dilemma.
I stood up from the bed, clutching my coin purse tightly in my hand. Slowly, I bent down to Arthur's level, placed a kiss on the top of his head, and whispered to him. "Mommy is going to go talk to the desk clerk. You stay put."
He turned to look at me for a minute before turning his glazed eyes back toward the television. He was tired, and that gave me a bit of time to hurry downstairs to try and arrange the living situations.
I stood and made my way for the door. As I stepped outside, I took one last glance at my little darling before closing the door. I took a deep breath, nearly ready to burst into tears. Perhaps I would have too if I had not been shaken by footsteps and talk echoing down the hall. Again I wiped my eyes, straightened my posture, and walked down the hall. Just as I made the turn, a tall figure nearly bumped into me.
"Oh, I sorry." I said, turning my eyes to the ground almost instinctively.
"It was my fault completely." That voice. I knew that voice. My eyes flashed up to meet the face that I was all too familiar with.
It was HIM. The man from the cafe and the elevator, along with his friend too. They always seemed to be together. They always seemed to be where I was. I was becoming worried that these two men were more than I made them out to be. Perhaps workers for my tyrannical husband. I shuddered at the thought.
"Ella, isn't it?" The other man, the far-younger and more talkative one, spoke up.
"Yes." I said somewhat timidly. "And...oh, forgive me I don't quite remember your names."
"I am Alexander Worthington, and this is my good friend Erik--uh...Erik--"
"Destler. Erik Destler." HE spoke, his voice quiet, however.
I nodded my acknowledgement. "Very nice. If you would excuse me, gentlemen." I tried to sneak past the two.
"Uh, Ella, wait a moment." Alexander spoke up, tapping my arm gently.
I turned to him, still clutching tightly to my coin purse. "Yes?"
"Please do not think me rash for asking this, but is it just you and that young boy here? No one else?" Alexander asked, seeming to push something.
My heart skipped a beat when he asked. What sort of question was that? I felt afraid to answer honestly, so I lied. "No. No my husband is here with me. He is back in the room."
Alexander's countenance fell. "Ah, I see."
"Alex, leave the poor woman alone please." Erik pulled at his friend's arm. "Pardon us, ma'am. He's just a bit of a nosy fellow that's all." He apologized.
I blushed slightly but nodded. "It is okay. Excuse me." I turned quickly and headed for the elevator. Just as soon as I had stepped in and pressed the button, I saw the Alexander fellow chasing after the door.
Out of extreme fright, I screamed out.
He caught the door just as it was about to close, holding it open. "Wait...." He panted. "Wait, Ella. I know this may sound ridiculous that I'm questioning you, but where are you from?"
I was backed into the far corner of the elevator, my legs shaking and my breath shallow. Was this man crazed? "I-I am not at liberty to say." I stammered a bit.
"Please, I'm just--"
"Alex!" The booming voice of Erik came from behind the younger man. I must have been extremely pale with fright for when he saw me, for his eyes were wide as he looked at the sight. "Alex, you've scared her to death. Leave her alone!"
Alexander stared at me rather forlornly before backing away from the doors. "I'm sorry, ma'am." He apologized.
As the door closed, I heard the two start to argue and carry on. I breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed slightly.
Once I made it down to the lobby a whole new set of fears arose in me. I did not know if the managers would be willing to slack any more of the charge. I knew that it would be a difficult conversation. And as I began to explain myself, the manager seemed to take to heart my words but apologized for his inability to fulfill my request. No matter how much I tried to barter with him, he was unwilling to wave the payments any further.
As I talked, the man from upstairs, the younger one, had made his way toward the reception desk and was making a payment of his own. I suddenly became nervous of his presence and decided that my argument would not get any where anyway.
But he must have heard my plight as I had been standing there, for he interrupted my conversation before I could bid the manager farewell.
"I do not mean to pry, and I do greatly apologize for it, but you say you are in a bit of a monetary pinch?" He spoke to me very cordially and humbly as he realized the scare he had caused much earlier.
"It is nothing, really." I tried to brush it off.
He shook his head and smiled at me. "Nonsense, if I can help you in any manner--"
"I'm honestly okay. Thank you though." I turned sharply and headed for the elevator.
He caught up with me, however, and persisted. "Please, ma'am. I know I was a bit bold earlier, and I apologize. If you would just let me explain myself. Please."
I was apprehensive. I looked at him wearily, but could not sense any evil from him so I nodded. "Fair. Go on."
"Again, I have no way of just saying it more delicately, but you see my friend -- the one who is lodging here -- is, or so I believe him heavily to be, well, in love with you." He said, his cheeks going scarlet.
"I see." I said, a bit phased yet trying desperately not to show it. "And so, what of it? Needless to say, Monsieur, I have a child. And once a husband." I murmured the last bit slightly, my eyes falling to the floor.
However, I could feel the man study me slightly. "And, where is your husband now, Madame?"
As if it were any of his business, I simply shook my head and lied. "He's up in the room."
"But you said once, ma'am."
"I-I did no such thing." I bit the inside of my cheek, feeling myself becoming trapped in my own words.
The fellow gave me a curious look before extending his hand toward the cafe. "Can I buy you a cup of tea?"
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As Alexander, as I soon began to be more fully acquainted with him, and I sat in the cafe, two cups of steaming tea between us, I began to grow less weary of the presence of the two gentlemen. First and foremost, Alexander was an opera house owner, and more notably the owner of the building across the street. As far as the second gentleman, HE or Erik, was a composer of sorts who had previously worked at a music shop in Paris.
The more I talked with Alexander the more I became eased of my earlier tensions. As we talked, however, I said nothing of my marital problems, since that was none of his actual business. However, financially, I found us to both be in similar ponds.
Alexander's opera house was at great risk of closing for good; and unless Erik could help him regain some musical following, it did not look very promising. As far as I was concerned, I told Alexander that I had fallen along harder times with financial and household situations. Although he most likely did not have the money for it, he offered to put me up for another week until I found out more about my situations.
I thanked him greatly, his hospitality warming my heart. Once the transaction of money had been completed, Alexander accompanied up to my floor. I walked casually out of the elevator and thanked him once more before the doors closed and left me to my own again.
A small smile tugged at my lips as I stood in the hallway, my face to the elevator doors. I sighed in relief, knowing that I was safe for another week and the men I thought to be captors were simple captives in their own affairs.
Casually, I made my way down the hall, putting my key card in the door, and pushing it open. As I walked inside, I froze at the sight of the composer man -- Erik was it? -- sitting on the bed with Arthur in his arms. He was cuddling my child, running a hand through the boys hair and whispering to Arthur as if the boy was his very own.
I was stiff. Deadly terrified. Why was he in my room? How had he gotten in?
"Why are you here?" I spat out, hurrying to Arthur and scooping him up into my arms and cradling him close to myself. I was probably crushing the poor darling, but I needed to have him close to me.
Erik stood, worry written on his face. "I did not mean to alarm you. He was calling for you, and I heard him and tried to appease him. I'm sorry, I should not have --"
"You need to leave." I cut him off quickly. Arthur began to wriggle in my arms, but I ignored it.
Erik's eyes filled with a sense of shame as he turned, brushing past me and headed for the door.
Arthur reached out, whimpers leaving him mouth. "No, Eri! Don't leave!"
I looked at my child, confusion filling my mind as he slipped through my hold and ran toward the man, grasping onto Erik's leg with a child-like grip but one that would hold.
Slowly, Erik bent down and met Arthur eye-to-eye. "I'll be around, my little friend. If you need me, just call me. Okay?"
Arthur nodded to him and wrapped his small around his neck in a hug.
Erik hugged him back gently, looking up at me cautiously.
I stood in a daze, confused and shocked. "Arthur, come here please." I said, my voice reflecting the shock.
Arthur removed his hold from Erik and hurried back to me, sticking his thumb in his mouth. "Bye-Bye-, Eri." He said, thumb muffling his speech.
Erik waved at him, smiling softly and leaving the room without another word. It was odd. Extremely bizarre. As I picked up Arthur, I still seemed lost for words. I sat on the bed with him in my arms, my lips pressed to his forehead.
"Arthur, did that man touch you?" I whispered gently, feeling fear rise in me as the image of my son being in a stranger's arms haunted my mind.
Arthur looked up at me with those eyes that reflected his father, yet Arthur's were softer and childish. I hoped they would never lose that glint of mystery and imagination. "He didn't do nothing, Momma."
I ran a hand through his thin hair, smiling at him softly. "You can tell me if he did something, darling. I won't be mad at you."
Arthur shook his head at me. "He didn't do nothing, Momma. I like Eri. Can we talk with him more please? I like his scars." He said, his eyes lighting up as he thought about it.
"Why do you call him that?" I asked, more as if asking to myself.
"That's his name." Arthur said as if it were a matter of fact, slipping from my arms and going to hop around on the bed a little before he grabbed hold of his teddy and flopped onto the bed. "Teddy likes, Eri too. Eri said that he liked teddy too. I like Eri a lot. He sings pretty songs."
My eyes followed Arthur as he played. "He sang to you?" I asked.
"Mhm! He can sing for you too if you ask him! I can go ask him for you, Momma!" He stirred from the bed and was about to head to the door before I caught him by his pants.
"No no, darling. Not now. Thank you though." I said, pulling him back onto the bed.
My brain was becoming fogged and confusion was blinding me. What did this all mean? I remembered what Alexander had said about Erik and myself, but I certainly did not feel such emotions toward him. It was so odd. Why would such a man feel that way toward a woman with a child attached to her hip? It seemed wrong. I was not going to think on it any longer. No, I was going to dismiss it. I did not want my son talking with that man either. Perhaps it was time to continue moving on, away from my husband and away from these strange men.