A/N: Just a little oneshot for now. I may continue the story

Modern AU set in New York.

Raoul and Christine are college students who share a little apartment.

Erik is Christine's vocal coach.

"But it's Saturday!" Raoul groaned as he slumped on the couch, "Your lessons are usually on Sundays."

"I know," Christine rolled her eyes as she tied her red scarf around her neck, "But Erik couldn't do tomorrow and this was the only time that would work for the both of us."

She took out her compact mirror and did a quick once over to make sure her hair was still in place. Christine's hair always managed to have a mind of its own.

Raoul threw his legs in the air and collapsed is blond head on the cushions, "But it's Saturday…and Saturday's our day! I had plans for us…I got tickets to Newsies!"

"It's a night show," Christine sighed, "My lesson is only until three. I'll be back in time; there is no need to act like a two year old."

"But I am a two year old," her boyfriend swung his feet back and forth. He lifted his head to look at her, "Could you pick up some cranberry juice or something afterwards?"

"You're stupid," she buttoned up her coat, "And I'm getting generic."

"Oh god," Raoul gasped, "I'm sorry for whining."

Christine turned the knob if their apartment door, "I'm still getting generic."

Raoul rolled off of the couch and onto the floor, "You're terrible."

"I know."

Knock. Knock.

Christine knocked on the apartment door of her voice teacher for a third time. She felt a bit impatient.

"It's open!" She heard a voice from the inside. It was obviously Erik.

She shrugged and opened the door. She stepped into the dreary apartment and was greeted by a hissing cat.

"Ugh," Christine crossed her arms, "Must you always, Ayesha?"

Ayesha hissed again.

"I'll be with you in a moment, Miss Daaé!" Erik called out from the kitchen, "Just sit down and get out your music!"

Christine bravely walked past Ayesha and set her bag down on Erik's old Victorian style couch. Her eyes glanced over to a box across the room. It was full of papers and other junk. It sparked her curiosity.

She walked across the room and knelt next to the box. She began to rummage through it quietly. She pulled out a few old manuscripts. Much of the music was scribbled and crossed out, but Christine started to hum the bits that she could make out. Once she got a steady tune she dropped the papers.

"Sorry for my tardiness," Erik held a cup of tea in his hands. His inky hair hung over his full black mask. He noticed that his student was hunched over a box…his box!

"Oh my god," Christine whispered, "How did I not know this?"

"Miss Daaé!" Erik snapped. He set his tea down on the coffee table, "What are you doing?!"

"I'm crying," Christine turned to look at her teacher, "Oh my god, wait 'til I tell Raoul."

"Tell Raoul what?" Erik fumed, "Get out of that box!"

Christine burst into hysterical laughter, "You did the music for Bathing Beauty!"

"Get out of my belongings!" Erik grabbed the girl's arm, "Stop your giggling! That musical was around before you were born! How could you possibly–"

"It's only one of the biggest flops in Broadway history!" Christine pulled her arm out of Erik's grasp, "There are bootlegs…and my boyfriend is a proud owner of the cast recording! He found a cassette tape at a garage sale. It's his favorite musical! I don't know why, no offense, but he loves that train wreck of a show."

"Must you insult me in my own home, dear girl?"

"Sorry!" Christine giggled, "It was just–"

"Atrocious?" Erik suggested, "An embarrassment?"

"Well…yes?"

Erik sat on the sofa, "Those melodies made me cringe."

Christine was confused, "Wait…what?"

"I was a sellout, Miss Daaé," he sighed, "It was the eighties. I was young…I needed the money. I was commissioned to write songs for a show that was guaranteed to be the next hit! You already know the end of the story."

"I never really pictured you to be the type of person to well…"

"Sellout?"

Christine nodded.

Erik chuckled, "We all do what we have to to get by, my dear. Even if it means writing that pile of shit."

Christine took a seat next to the masked man, "Is that why you wear that mask? You don't want people to know you wrote that piece of–"

"No," Erik folded his hands in his lap, "Bathing Beauty was supposed to buy my ticket out of the mask."

"What are you talking about?" Christine raised her eyebrows in confusion.

"I shouldn't even be telling you any of this," Erik stood up, "I've been teaching you for what is it now? Two months?"

Christine stood up and reached her hand out to him. The placed it on the mask's cheek, "Whatever your secret is…I won't tell."

Erik slapped her hand away, "Why don't you collect your things and–"

Christine grabbed the mask's edge and swiped it off of his face. She took a quick glance at his bare face and her eyes widened. She fell back a bit and gasped.

Erik quickly covered bits of his face with his skeletal fingers.

"I…I was not prepared for that." Christine was quiet.

"Get out!" Erik screamed at her, "Get out! Get out!"

"I'm sorry," Christine handed him the mask, "It was out of place…I'm so so–"

"Get out of here!" He grabbed the mask out of her hand.

"If you think I'm afraid…I'm not."

"Miss Daaé–"

"I'm just a bit startled, but I'm not afraid. I have no reason to be."

Erik fixed his mask back on. He picked up Christine's bag and handed it to her, "Go home. I will not charge you for this lesson…or any more."

"Wait…what?"

"Find a new teacher."

"No!" Christine shook her head, "I'm sorry! I shouldn't have done that, but you can't give up on me!"

Erik started to push her towards the door, "For both our sakes…go!"

"I'm sorry!" Christine clutched her bag to her chest, "Can we just talk? Just sit down and converse like adults here?"

"LEAVE!"

"Hey," Christine sighed as she took a seat next to Raoul on their frumpy couch. She handed him a plastic bag, "I got you juice."

Raoul pulled the bottle out of the bag. He noticed that it was name brand…high end name brand. He was really confused, "You didn't get generic?"

The brunette shook her head, "Nah. I thought I'd splurge today."

Raoul could tell that something was up. He noticed that Christine was glaring at the floor and that she was slumped over. She also still had her coat on. He nudged her shoulder.

"What?" Christine looked up at him.

"Is something bugging you?"

"I did something stupid today," she laid her head on his shoulder, "Something really stupid."

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

"Nah," she answered, "Can I just lay on you and sulk?"

"Of course," he kissed the top of her head.

Christine pulled his arm over her and hugged it, "Thanks."