Love is Ours {See Final Author's Note}

Chapter Twenty Eight

[IM BACK!!  So sorry for the wait but I think I'm finally getting over my writer's block!  Enjoy!]

[Ramin]

-Three Months Later-

Love never dies
Love never falters
Once it has spoken
Love is yours

Ramin watched from the wings as his Sierra sang with grace and passion.  He smiled a little to himself, realizing how lucky he was to call her his.

Sierra finished the song a few minutes later, and applause erupted from the audience.  Ramin clapped too before he heard his cue to go onstage.

My Christine, what a triumph you gave me tonight!

Ramin sang as he walked towards Sierra.  Suddenly, he saw a light reflect off of something shiny in the audience, and he squinted. 

As he and Sierra continued the song, Ramin glanced subtly into the front row.  He mustered all of the professionalism up in him to keep his jaw from dropping. 

Mandy.  She was sitting in the front row, grinning evilly at Ramin.  Sierra, evidently, didn't notice, because she continued with her part of the song.  Ramin barely remembered to join her for the last part.

Lost in the music once more
Feeling it rise up and soar
Alive once again!

The rest of the show passed by in a blur.  Before Ramin knew it, Sierra was dying in his arms.  He leaned down to kiss her, she died, he had his moment with Gustave, and the curtain fell.  After he bowed, Ramin rushed to get changed.

Ramin snapped the prosthetics off after slipping out of his suit and pulled on his street clothes.  He ran a hand through his hair and debated on the topic of the stage door. 

He'd only missed the Love Never Dies stage door once before when he'd felt sick after the performance because Joseph Millson thought it would be funny to switch out his fish tacos dinner order for expired fish, and Ramin didn't want to disappoint the fans. But he also didn't want to run into Mandy.
He flicked the cap on and off of a Sharpie while he debated the issue. 

About ten minutes after the show had ended, there was a knock on his door.

"Ramin?" He heard Sierra's soft voice call.

"Come in," he sighed, popping the cap back on the Sharpie as the door opened.

Sierra had on yoga pants and a bulky white sweater that covered her hands, only her delicate fingers poking out of the sleeves.  Her hair was wavy from being in pin curls, but she'd brushed it out and pulled it into a bun.  Ramin was able to forget about the Mandy dilemma as he admired his girlfriend.

"You okay?" She asked, snapping Ramin back to reality.  He sighed as he remembered the big problem now weighing him down.

"Yep." He replied, deciding to go to the stage door for only a few minutes.  Sierra grinned as he grabbed his Sharpie and took her hand, her sweater tickling his palm.

As soon as the doorman opened the stage door and the crowd caught sight of them, a big cheer went up and fans began holding out their programs and pens.  Sierra went to the left, so Ramin headed towards the right.

He signed his initials and posed for pictures all the way down the line until the crowd had thinned out pretty well.  He caught Sierra's eyes and gave her a small smile, which she returned before signing a few more programs.

Sierra and Ramin hadn't made their relationship public yet, so Ramin was glad fans didn't yet interrogate him about how things were with Sierra.  He knew some fans were serious hardcore stalkers and knew he'd broken up with Mandy, but he hoped it wasn't obvious he had a new relationship forming.

After spending about ten minutes at the stage door, longer than he'd planned, Sierra looped her arm through Ramin's and they set off down the street.

As they walked, London was still alive and noisy despite the late hour.  Ramin breathed a sigh of relief as he realized Mandy hadn't made another appearance. 

Ramin kissed Sierra's cheek as they arrived at her flat, and she murmured a goodnight before meeting his lips with hers.

"Sweet dreams, Sie," he whispered as they pulled away.  She squeezed his hand one last time before disappearing inside.

Ramin's flat was only a few blocks away, so he shoved his hands in his pockets after zipping up his jacket.  The chilly late-March weather was merciless, and the wind beat Ramin's face and numbed his exposed skin.

After a fifteen minute walk that should've taken five, Ramin reached his flat, considerably grumpier than he'd been before.  He dug his key out of his pocket and heard it scrape in the lock as the door popped open.

As he flicked on the light, he saw an envelope covering the "O" on the cheesy "Welcome" mat he'd been given by his mother in their family Christmas gift exchange the year before. 

Ramin stooped down to retrieve it, confused and a bit concerned when he smelled a strong odor coming from it.  He tried to identify the smell as he flipped the envelope over and his eyes widened.

On the front, printed in a dripping red style in a handwriting he knew all too well, was one simple word:

Ramin