Today's prompt: presumed dead/disappeared/relief

Hello all! Today's one shot is a scene I took from the novel Phantom by Susan Kay and decided to write it from Nadir's perspective. It should make sense to anyone who hasn't read the novel, but if there's anything that doesn't make sense, feel free to leave me a question in the comments. I hope you all enjoy!

*  *  *

I hurried out of my apartment block, making my way through the rainy Parisian streets. I noticed a cab a little ways down the street. This was a wonderful little coincidence for me, as I was on my way to the Garnier to see their latest production, and hailing a cab in the rain in Paris is never an easy task. As I approached the cab, I noticed another cloaked gentleman also walking toward the same car. "My cab, I think, Monsieur," he said rudely.

My eyes widened when I heard the voice. Could it be? After all these years? No, surely not, I had to be dreaming. But, alas, I knew I was not, for there was not a voice in existence like my friend's. When I caught a glimpse of a white mask in the reflection of the carriage window, my suspicions had been officially confirmed.

I watched Erik as he turned his head away from me and swung himself into the carriage. When I heard him instruct the cab driver to take him to the opera house, I hurriedly rounded the carriage and opened the door on the opposite side of my friend. As I sat down, I informed the driver that I too was heading to the Opera. "This gentleman and I are very well acquainted, and I know he will be very happy to share the journey with me," I added with a small smirk, turning to look at my friend. "Is that not so, Erik?"

The driver asked my friend, looking slightly confused, if it was alright for me to share his cab. Erik quickly replied, telling him to drive on before turning back to me. The look on his face could only be described as complete and utter shock.

Casually, I peeled off my gloves and removed my opera hat, setting both beside me. "Well, Erik, this is indeed a pleasant surprise," I remarked, and it was true. I'd had no idea up until that point what had become of him after we parted ways in Persia all the years ago. I was finally able to breathe a bit easier, knowing that he was, apparently, safe and sound and still alive. I had been especially concerned about that last one, given that my friend's chaotic ways should have already gotten him killed on a number of occasions.

"That is entirely a matter of opinion," he spat back, turning his head to look out the window. "What the devil brings you to Paris after all this time?"

I shrugged casually and gave the brief explanation that I'd been in Paris ever since I had gotten released from Mazanderan many years prior. My friend appeared to be rather shocked by this, and when he asked me how long I'd been kept prisoner there, I replied: "Five years."

Erik turned his head to look out the window again. It was some time before he finally asked me, his tone rather harsh, if I'd left Mazanderan of my own accord.

"Let us say," I replied with a quiet laugh, "that I was not invited to stay." I went on to explain to him how my assets had been forfeited, although I did receive a rather sizable pension. It was, shockingly, a very generous amount, and it had allowed me to hold a season ticket at the Opera.

"You don't have a box?" Erik asked, and I couldn't help but laugh at just how upset he sounded by this. I could tell that, deep down, he still cared for me and wanted me to live a comfortable life. When I began to explain why I didn't have a box of my own, he cut me off bluntly to assure me: "You shall have one without delay. I shall speak to the management at once."

I frowned at this, wondering what exactly he meant by this. What power could he have had over the managers? "The management?" I echoed in my confusion.

Only replied that he had some influence at the Opera, and his tone had somehow seemed far too casual. I raised an eyebrow at his reply, but he hastily added that he'd been one of the contractors of the Garnier.

This relieved me quite a bit, and a smile passed across my face as I leaned back in my seat. "Then such a magnificent feat of engineering must have won you many further commissions."

"It was not a feat of engineering. It was an act of love," Erik replied, and I had to stop myself from laughing at such a statement. "I had no interest in further futile contracts on the surface of this earth once the building was completed."

It was nice to see that he hadn't changed over the past twenty-five years. He was still the same Erik who cared far more about music and architecture than he probably should have. So much had changed in my life since I'd seen him last, so it made me rather happy that some things were still very much the same.

The carriage eventually rolled to a stop, and I got out onto the sidewalk. I waited for Erik to follow me but frowned a moment later when he made no attempt to do so. I questioned him on this, and his reply was simply: "I never attend the Opera, except in my official capacity."

This made absolutely no sense to me whatsoever. "Surely you official duties terminated with the completion of the building."

"Some duties can never be relinquished," Erik replied, which made me suddenly very suspicious. What on earth could he be up to now?

When i told him of the bad feeling I was getting, he only ignored the statement as though it had never been spoken, and he encouraged me to hurry inside so as not to miss the performance. I had no intentions of missing the show, but I didn't move from where I stood. Still suspicious, I suddenly demanded to know where he lived. He tried to insist that it was none of my concern. Perhaps that was true, but I still wished to know. "But it is nearby. You directed the cab to the Opera before you recognized me, so it must be nearby," I pressed.

He glanced at me with a look of slight annoyance and made some comment about me still being a policeman after all these years. "Old habits die hard, don't they?" he added, though his tone hinted more at amusement as he spoke it.

"Don't think you can confuse me with your sarcasm," I retorted, giving my green eyes a roll. "Why should you hide your home from me in this mysterious manner? Have I not deserved your trust?" I hoped that this point might strike a nerve with him, but it seemed to have no effect. Or if it did, he played it off exceedingly well.

He made some passive comment about never entertaining visitors, andI couldn't stop myself from asking him exactly what he was trying to hide from me. It was then that he chose to inform me that we were no longer in Mazanderan and that I no longer held and sort of power over him. He warned me gravely not to follow him and to "remember the scorpion."

I didn't bother to give this a reply as I stepped away from the carriage. I watched him close the door before the cab pulled away, leaving me to wonder what on earth my friend had gotten himself into now. Don't go getting me wrong, I was still immensely happy to see him, but this encounter had filled me with a trepidation that hadn't been there before. After all, I was well aware of the things Erik was capable of, and I knew that leaving him unattended could be a very grave mistake indeed.

As I turned to walk into the opera house, I began to form a plan in my mind of how I intended to go about investigating my friend.