PROMPT: AU where Christine is a lawyer and Erik is her client :')
Thank you so much for the prompt, @helloitskrisha! I hope you like it <3
.
“That would be one count of second-degree murder, several counts of threat through handwritten notes and continued extortion. Did I miss anything?”
“No, you got everything right, as usual.”
“Any cues on his motivation?”
Mrs. Giry hesitated. A very frustrated Christine rubbed her eyes with her right hand and sighed.
“I need something to work with, Mrs. Giry. I know this man is important to you, but my hands are tied. I can’t propose a deal to the DA if I have nothing to offer.”
“I know, my dear, trust me, but… This is complicated.”
Christine snorted.
“‘Complicated doesn’t even begin to describe it, but I’ll try my best. So let me ask again. Any cues on his motivation?”
“I think you should see it for yourself.”
—
“Why them? You claim to be a master of arts, what’s stopping you? You could have started your own company, hired whoever you wanted, gotten a better theater even…”, she tried to keep her voice amiable. This man was a charade.
“You make it sound as if such things are simple.”
“But they are!”
“Counselor, things are never simple for a man like me.”
“I was told you are rich.”
“How does that change anything?”
“People may not like other people, but they never, ever, argue with money.” Erik opened his mouth. “Unless you’re extorting them, of course”, she quipped before he could say anything.
Erik huffed. His lawyer’s face softened.
“Erik, I’m only trying to understand your reasons. I want to help you, but I need to know you.”
“Where did she find you, by the way? Mrs. Giry?”
“Her daughter is my best friend.”
Erik cackled. Whether or not he would spend a lifetime in prison depended on the abilities of little Meg’s friend? He was doomed.
The girl in front of him, however, didn’t seem to share his humor.
“Is there a problem?”
He sobered immediately.
“No, of course not. It’s just that… You’re awfully young.”
“And that makes me unreliable? Incapable?”
“No, that’s not-”, Christine cut him off.
“If you would prefer, Mr. Erik, I have no problem in telling Mrs. Giry that you were unwilling to cooperate, and therefore jeopardized my work, which will ultimately lead you to a lifetime in jail. I don’t have a habit of giving up on cases, but most people work along their attorneys, not against them, whether they like it or not. Unlike you, they seem to be aware it’s for their own good.”
Erik remained silent for several minutes. Giving up, Christine sighed inwardly, grabbed her briefcase and got up from the chair.
“There was a scam”, she finally heard Erik’s voice.
—
Christine couldn’t believe her luck. Or bad luck, she hadn’t decided which one yet. If she hadn’t heard the story from Erik himself, looking into his eyes as he told it, she would have thought he had caught the idea from a movie or a book.
As it turns out, Erik had been one of the creators of one of the city’s theaters. He had designed the entire building, not only the exterior but each and every one of the rooms, from the box seats to the orchestra pit, from the dressing rooms to the ticket booths, and worked with his then partner in building it.
However, his so-called partner was actually an agent from a wealthy corporation which claimed to own the building after it was finished. Having fled Persia as somewhat a refugee, and also due to his mask, which Christine presumed hid some sort of deformity, Erik had no documents at the time to even prove he existed as a person. He never got a single dime for his designing and engineering.
Ironically, said theater now housed the most famous, longest-running and probably most lucrative Broadway show, which had been on for decades nonstop. Erik, who seemed to be a sucker for drama, as theatre people usually are, then proceeded to invade the theater and wreak some harmless havoc as payback, using secret passages no one knew about.
He had a solid alibi for the murder charge and the original blueprints of the building were still in his possession, filled with information only the original designer would know. The copies the corporation owned were simpler, luckily. The extortion was still an issue, but well, the money was his anyway, and if they managed to prove he was actually the victim, and not a villain, the corporation would have it far worse.
—
Eventually, of course, the case hit the news, despite Christine’s efforts to keep it low-profile, but it ended up being beneficial for Erik. When the story about how a widely known entertainment corporation took advantage of a disfigured refugee and his work came out, the support Erik received was massive. People did love a plot twist.
The District Attorney accepted his alibi without question. Later on, they found out that Joseph Bouquet’s death had first been ruled out as an accident, but, with Erik trapped and caught, the corporation decided to pin it on him, despite the fact that the “Theater Ghost” never hurt anyone else.
When all that dirt was uncovered, the show company, orchestra and crew included, summoned up a strike and even threatened to resign if Erik wasn’t paid his due, and organized a special concert to raise funds in favor of his cause. The initiative was immediately supported by fans and theatergoers, and the tickets sold out within minutes, prompting the opening of a second, third and fourth performances, not to mention the smaller fundraisings that popped up all over the internet. As he was already a wealthy man, Erik planned on donating at least part of the money to nonprofit organizations that helped refugees. No one else should have to go through what he did.
—
Today, they would know if their efforts had paid off. Christine’s hands shook slightly as she arranged her chocolate brown curls in an elegant bun. Her and Erik would be there early; because it was their final day at court, he wanted to thank people. Whenever they had an appointment at the courthouse hundreds of people would camp outside of it, carrying banners and signs with supportive phrases, cheering him on as he walked by. He smiled awkwardly and waved at them, even shaking a few hands once, but that was about it.
Thankfully, Erik’s address was still a mystery, as well as her office’s, though many people were closer to his home than they dared to imagine. He was a very discreet person, as much as his mask allowed him to be, therefore no one ever noticed him disappearing behind a door in one of the side walls of the theater he claimed to own.
—
“Ladies and gentlemen at the court. This case is a very peculiar one; accusations were turned over to the people who first filed them and the defendant claimed to be the actual victim.”
Erik could barely breathe. It was now or never. Sure, Christine had told him they could appeal in case the verdict was not favorable, but it wouldn’t be the same. The assholes would always have that advantage of the first win. He trusted his lawyer, though. She had done everything within her power to help him. She had earned his trust. Erik glanced at her.
Christine was beautiful. Despite her hair being tied up, a few strands framed her delicate face. Her expression was neutral, but her brown eyes were peaceful; he knew she was confident about the verdict.
The judge rambled on about the treatment of refugees and the deplorable situations they were often submitted to by dishonest people, but Erik was marveling at Christine’s slightly rosy cheeks and the fact that she didn’t have a single freckle. However, remembering how important this was, he sobered up and turned his attention to the judge.
“...After analyzing the facts and evidences presented in this court, I find that the accusations are legitimate. Mr. Erik shall be named the official theater owner back to its opening date until this day. The corporation remains obliged to pay him royalties and monthly rent for the years the theater was illegally occupied.”
The audience celebrated and clapped. Erik turned to thank Christine and give her a handshake, but she nearly jumped into his arms, enveloping him in a tight hug. He quickly gathered himself and hugged her back, but Christine let go before long, looking sheepish.
“I’m sorry”, she said, blushing. “I know you’re not… I shouldn’t have. I’m very happy, that’s all. I’m sorry if I crossed a line.”
Erik merely hugged her again.
Justice had been served. It was a good day.













