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The bustle of the Rosy Hours, as was to be expected on a Friday night, was finally beginning to die down. The constant flow of people in and out through the night was typical as they ran to the bar for a quick drink after work or settled in for a longer night with their friends. The waitresses flawlessly worked the last few tables, speeding about carrying trays of wings and sliders from the kitchen to the waiting customers. The sound of clattering cutlery and ice clinking against the inside of a glass had quieted down from earlier that evening, but still filled the space, creating quite the soundtrack for Erik Gauthier’s night at the bar. It was one that he was quite fond of, made it easy for him to get lost in the work that required so much of his attention. It really was an art, bartending, and if he wasn’t entirely focused, it made it all the easier for him to drop a bottle in the middle of a trick, to over or undermix a cocktail, to add too much of one ingredient and too little of another. Focus was paramount.
Knowing that was what made it so troubling that his mind was so often elsewhere these days. Not merely wandering, thinking about his grocery list and what he would have for a late dinner. No, no, it was filled with thoughts of something very specific. Someone very specific. She filled his thoughts for what felt like every waking moment of every day. He was sure that wasn’t entirely accurate, but he thought about her far more than he probably should. Even just her name brought a smile to his face.
Christine Daaé.
He smiled even now as he dried off a freshly washed glass. Her warm smile and brown eyes popped into his mind, keeping the smile plastered on his face. He dipped his head down to make sure no one else noticed his expression so that no one would question why their bartender was smiling strangely at nothing. That wouldn’t be good for business, standing and looking rather deranged. Nadir certainly wouldn’t accept that excuse for customers avoiding the bar.
Finally collecting himself again, Erik turned to serve his last customer while sparing a glance at the front door. He hoped that Christine would walk into the bar at that very moment, but was disappointed. He knew she was busy that evening, though; she had mentioned having a show that night, and he knew she always made a habit of staying at the stage door afterwards. She had shared pictures with him that she had taken with eager fans, all toothy smiles and proudly holding their signed programs. It always made his chest feel warm and set loose the butterflies in his stomach, hearing those stories. He adored how much she loved her supporters and work; it was clear to see how much care and love she had in her heart for all those around her, and he found it incredibly endearing. Attractive too, though he wouldn’t admit that to anyone else.
Well. Nadir knew, but his best friend always seemed to know what he was thinking, even before he said it out loud. It was infuriating.
With a friendly smile, Erik served his customers their drinks, mixing cocktails and martinis with ease. As he was pouring his last one, he almost faltered and spilled when he noticed his awaited guest walk through the doors. He had to contain the toothy grin threatening to spread across his face at the sight of her, managing to finish pouring the customer’s drink before practically sliding across the floor to meet Christine.
“Welcome back,” he said, sounding far more composed than he actually felt. “How was the show?”
“Oh, it was perfect,” Christine said with a wide smile as she plopped herself down on a stool and set her purse down on the bar. “Exhausting, but just wonderful as always.”
“Very good. Is that aria getting any easier for you?” Erik replied as he propped an elbow on the bar and leaned against it. “It’s quite the song, I listened to it after you mentioned it.”
She grinned. “Oh, you’re the best, taking me up on my suggestions.”
“I didn’t say I would listen to the entire opera just yet. I listened to that one song to get an idea of what you were dealing with.”
“Sure,” Christine replied with a coy wink, which set those cursed butterflies loose in his stomach again. “I think you’ll end up listening to it all. You’ll get there.”
“Whatever you say. You didn’t answer my question.”
“I’m getting to it!” Christine exclaimed, laughing and playfully slapping his arm. “It was much smoother tonight, I think I’m finally settling into it. You have to come and see the show, Erik.”
He smiled, committed to surprising her the night of with the fact that he had purchased a ticket for himself to the next day’s matinée. “Yes, so you’ve said.”
“You can afford to let another bartender in here for one day, can’t you?”
“Let someone else take over this? After ten years?” Erik asked with a grand gesture to the bar around them. “And let them drive it into the ground? You must be crazy.”
“Yes, you’re right, that would be absurd. Excuse me for even suggesting it,” Christine laughed.
“You are forgiven. Just don’t suggest such a ridiculous thing again,” Erik replied. “Now, just settle in. Let me get you a drink. I’ll get you something quick to tide you over, then get you a proper beverage once things quiet down.”
Upon seeing her grateful smile in silent response to the offer, he poured her a glass of sparkling water, slicing a fresh lemon for the rim. He left her to nurse the drink and settle in while he moved to wipe down the bar, watching as the last few patrons finished their snacks and drinks. They moseyed out of the building and the waitresses bustled about to clean down the tables, but as soon as he could, Erik waved them off, dismissing them for the night. He so preferred having the bar to himself, especially when he and Christine got to be alone. Their quiet conversations on those evenings were something that he truly longed for, kept him going on long, tiring days.
Once the last employees had shuffled out, giving him their goodbyes as they left, Erik walked to the door to flip the ‘Open’ sign to ‘Closed,’ then returned to his position. Now that he could focus on his craft, he set about making Christine the perfect drink. He bustled about behind his bar, collecting the ingredients to make her the cocktail that had become his go-to concoction for her after finishing a show. A warm drink, perfect for keeping her vocal chords healthy with its soothing peppermint tea and maple syrup, poured into a glass smoked with cinnamon sticks for extra flavour and aroma. A mix of whiskey that would warm her through was poured into the glass, bolstered with boiling water and lemon juice, then slid across the bar to her once the teabag had steeped.
“There you are. Your Dreary Day’s Night, as per usual,” he said, adjusting one of his sleeve garters to keep his shirtsleeves pulled up to his elbows before leaning on the bar. “We have to take care of that lovely voice.”
“Thank you,” Christine said with a warm smile. She sipped the drink and hummed contently, the sound alone making Erik smile. To see that she was pleased with something that he had done for her was the greatest gift, knowing that he had made her happy. “You always know just what I need.”
“Well, I try. Especially for my favourite customers.”
Christine quirked a brow. “Oh, I’m just one of your favourites? I thought I was the favourite,” she teased.
“Of course you are. How could you not be?” Erik asked with a soft chuckle. “You are the perfect customer with how considerate and patient you are, there is no way that anyone in the restaurant business couldn’t consider you a favourite.”
“That’s all? I’m only your favourite because I’m patient and don’t throw your drinks back at you when I’m unhappy.”
“Well, yes. The fact that you’re wonderful to talk to and share my passions is just a side note.”
He bit back a smile when he noticed how her cheeks flushed at the comment. “Side notes, of course,” she replied, biting her bottom lip before sipping her drink again.
Erik laughed quietly, rather enjoying this strange dynamic of playful teasing bordering on flirting between them. The feeling of enjoyment faded a bit, though, as it always did, when Christine’s coat shifted to one side and he caught sight of the golden ring hanging on a chain around her neck. A constant reminder that the flirting would only ever be lighthearted comments between friends meant to fluster the other and nothing more. Not so long as that wealthy fiancé of hers was around.
“Let me know if I can get you anything else. I’m going to clean up a bit, but I can get you whatever you need,” he said softly. “Take your time.”
“I’ll give you a shout if something comes to mind,” Christine replied, smiling warmly and setting her hand atop his. “Thank you, Erik.”
“Of course, Christine. My pleasure.”
Erik watched from the doorway of the Rosy Hours as Christine made her way to her car. He saw to it that she got into the vehicle safely, and gave her a wave as she drove out of the parking lot. He watched the retreating taillights until he could see them no more, and only then did he reenter the building and lock the door behind him.
Towel in hand, he surveyed the space for any necessary last-minute touch-ups before leaving for the night. He stopped in the middle of the room, though, when he noticed someone else in there with him, leaning up against the bar.
“Finally came out of your little hovel, hm? I’m surprised you weren’t out here mingling like usual,” Erik remarked as he sauntered over.
“I would have been, but I had bills to pay and a headache to get over. Today was not the day for socializing,” Nadir said, nodding in his friend and coworker’s direction. “I did notice that you closed up and sent everyone home for some quiet time with your friend again.”
“Yes, I wanted to talk to Christine and I prefer doing that when I’m not worried about other customers. Why are you saying it like that, with such emphasis on ‘friend’?”
Nadir shrugged nonchalantly, turning to face Erik as he walked behind the bar. “I don’t know. It just seems like you don’t want her to just be your friend.”
“Well, that would be ridiculous, so I don’t know why you’re suggesting something like that.”
Erik deliberately avoided looking up at his friend as he finished cleaning up his workstation. He knew exactly the expression that he would be met with if he did look at Nadir, and therefore, he refrained from doing so to avoid being met with the inevitable. Unfortunately, Nadir seemed keen on conveying this reaction to him and reached out to take his dishtowel away, stopping his work. “Nadir, give it to me.”
“Why won’t you just admit it to yourself, Erik?”
“What?” he snapped as he finally looked up at the older man. He was startled to see an oddly sympathetic expression rather than an amused one on Nadir’s face and it disarmed him somewhat. He didn’t want to think about the deeper subject that his friend was getting at, didn’t want to explore it; it only ever led him down a dark hole that he got lost in so often already. The last thing he needed was to revisit it and cause himself any more heartache than usual.
“You know what,” Nadir said with a raised brow. “You know exactly what.”
Erik huffed and yanked the dishtowel back. “There isn’t anything there, Nadir. There is nothing to admit, not to myself or anyone else,” he said, though his voice was uncharacteristically rough.
His friend sighed. “You deserve to be happy. That’s all I’m saying.”
“I am happy, Nadir,” Erik gritted out, though he was troubled by how much it felt like he was trying to convince himself of that and not just Nadir.
“Not truly, though. That girl is what you need to be truly happy.”
“Where on earth are you getting that idea?”
Nadir shrugged. “I see it on your face, hear it in your voice, when you talk to her. Even when you’re just in her presence. I haven’t seen that much warmth in your eyes in a long time,” he said. His voice softened as he added, “I think you need to tell her about what you’re feeling.”
“And how exactly am I feeling, Monsieur Khan?”
“Well, to me, it seems rather obvious that you’ve fallen in love with her. It’s up to you whether or not you’ll accept that fact.”
Erik started to bite back, but the words died in his throat before he got the chance. How could he make a response when his friend’s observations were completely correct? He had been ignoring those feelings, refusing to put a name to them, but when it was laid out so simply…well, there was no way to deny it.
“She’s engaged, Nadir,” he finally settled on saying, his voice uncharacteristically quiet for a conversation with his best friend.
“I know. That doesn’t mean you can’t tell her what you’re feeling,” Nadir reasoned. “Perhaps it will have results that you wouldn’t expect.”
Erik shook his head and tossed his dishtowel over his shoulder. “That will only burden her and that is the last thing I want,” he said. “I have her friendship, Nadir, and I am quite content with that.”
“Will you always be?”
That gave him pause for the briefest of moments. Would he? “I am content with that,” he insisted, though he avoided the question. “She is my friend. She is in my life. That is what matters to me.”
It truly was. As beautiful as it would be to hold Christine Daaé in his arms and shower her with all of the love that he had the capacity for, to see her in his bar, to make her drinks that made her smile, and to hear the beautiful sound of her laugh was enough for him.
Men like him never got anything better than that.