Author's Note: As I continue to try and finish my longer work, I found myself scribbling out this little piece, and since it's now written it might as well be shared.
Disclaimer: I do not own any
of the characters from The Phantom Of The Opera and make no profit
from this story whatsoever.
"I wish you didn't use so much", she whispered softly, perched on the little wooden chair beside the door. "I worry for you."
"Don't," came the irritated reply, barely wincing at the pain of the tiny prick. "We've discussed this before, I know what I'm doing."
"But it could kill you." She timidly pointed out as the deadly drug slid into the much-abused vein.
"That's why I'm always careful with it." Sighing as the pain faded away, tight muscles slowly relaxed. "Besides, its expensive, I wouldn't waste it by using more than I need."
"But you're using twice as much as before, when we first met." She continued to protest even as the needle was removed. "Just promise me you won't increase the amount any more."
"I will use however much I need and you can not force me to make any such promise." The anger had returned, and she flinched at the tone. "Now we had better be going, rehearsals start in five minutes and I refuse to be late because of your foolish worries. Really Meg, you treat me like a child!"
"I'm sorry Christine, I just don't want to lose a friend." She sniffled miserably as Christine stalked out the dressing room door, leaving her behind. "Or maybe I already have."