Glass Skin

36

"What's he doing?" Meg asked, continuing to peer around the corner of the doorframe.

Fleurette stood just on the other side, a small frown on her face as she looked around the lavishly painted gold frame too. "Getting drunk, I believe."

"But why? Considering the problems it took to get Christine, you'd think, you know...you wouldn't waste day in, day out, staring into an empty glass." Meg said, it had become an odd routine, a part of their day was always usually spent in finding out where Raoul was. It even became a little game, the winner opting to get something from the loser. This was all well and good, until they both discovered that the man actually dwelt in the bar most times. It was a slow gradual moving in there, not straight away but now, most definitely majority of his day was spent in there.

Fleurette cast a glance Meg's way before shaking her head, her loosely curled hair shaking from side to side as she drummed her fingers on the doorframe. "Maybe not all is well."

Meg let out a gasp, a quiet one stifled by her hand as she looked with wide eyes to her friend. "You believe there is marital problems?"

Fleurette turned away from the sad sight of Raoul. He just looked so utterly defeated sitting there looking into his empty glass, the alcohol within long since gone. She leaned against the wall, crossing her arms and one ankle across the other. "Meg, the man's come here, with his wife and son, to an opera house which he clearly thought had high standing. Only to discover that the one pulling the strings is Erik. The one man he had problems with back in Paris. Of course there's problems! If that didn't cause problems, then really...I'm sure his drinking may." Fleurette said with a sympathising tone as she looked into the room. She got his pain, slightly. The feeling of being shirked. Even if Erik stayed with her last night, and she awoke to being in his arms, it still didn't erase the hurt feelings. How could Raoul possibly compete with someone who made a living out of being a ghost? Made a living perhaps not the right words, but Fleurette knew what she meant.

"Think he needs cheering up."

"Meg...the man's clearly drunk, if the alcohol isn't going to perk him up, then not a lot will." Fleurette said sadly, what she said was double standards of course. She had seen the effects of alcohol, felt the effects even. The buzz and high and happiness was only short-lived before the creeping sadness and doubts came lurking into ones mind.

Meg pouted her way before slipping away from her leaning position. Fleurette hissed her name quietly, trying to get the blonde to come back. But did she listen? No. Fleurette stood and watched as she slowly sauntered over to where the brunette leaned against the bar. Fleurette despaired, seriously. She could see what Meg's game was. Not that she was above acts of petty revenge, although she hadn't acted on any of her thoughts; more her thoughts had made her a little more destructive towards herself. But, overly flirting with someone else's husband? No.

Fleurette frowned, she could just walk away. But then, how was that fair? Raoul was a relative innocent party here, duped and tricked into something which he clearly didn't know the dealings of. So, it was for that reason, and to try and get him to sober up, that Fleurette quickly walked into the room. "Squandered," was the last word which came from Raoul's lips as Fleurette stopped beside Meg. She looked confused, Raoul was too busy twirling the empty glass to notice Meg quietly mouth to Fleurette the misfortune of money, and where it had subsequently gone.

Fleurette's eyes widened, opening her mouth, she couldn't think of anything to say. She just stood with a mild look of alarm on her face. "Dear sir, surely not all is lost?" Fleurette found her voice and moved to lean the other side of him, she watched his eyes blearily flick to look at her.

"Don't patronise me." He said spitefully, Fleurette straightened up and looked at Meg. She pulled an uncertain face and looked awkwardly at the man seated between them.