Chapter One
Christine Daaè would not be late. Even if her newly-obtained job as a bartender at the local Opera house was not exactly the most illustrious career offered at that establishment, she was more than grateful to have it, as it allowed her to almost, almost be in the world which she loved most - the world of music, of theatre, of storytelling through song.
Moving through the hectic streets of Manhattan at the most brisk pace possible, she pondered how even on a bitterly cold November day the streets were still overflowing with people.
Truthfully, it was what she loved most about the city. The constant flood of people, the sound of heels on the pavement, chatter on phones, was a symphony of its own, and it filled the longing ache of loneliness inside her in a way that the quiet fields of her hometown never could.
Looking at her gold watch - fake, of course, she's a bartender, not a primadonna - she noted the time and picked up her pace substantially, now sprinting through the holes in the crowd, her two-inch kitten heels now digging into the heels of her feet uncomfortably. She braved the dips in the pavement and the pain in her toes until the theatre was within sight. Slowing down and catching her breath, she unbuttoned her large coat and ran her hand down her ensemble nervously, sorting out any ruffles or wrinkles in the fabric, and walked in with as much confidence as a girl who knew virtually nothing about alcohol could.
She had gone out for the job on a whim - her best friend Meg Giry was a dancer in the productions and knew of Christine's love for opera. As Christine put out application after application for jobs in her field - journalism with a focus in arts and culture, hopefully writing on the theatre or music beat - Meg encouraged her to take on a smaller job while she moves through the interview process at various publications. She hesitantly accepted, knowing that while she would much rather spend her time networking or doing freelance work to make a name for herself, she could not impose on Meg and her mother any longer by living rent-free in their apartment.
When Christine's father passed away during her senior year of high school, Madame Giry promised Christine that she would never be without a home. Christine and Meg attended the same university in New York City as planned after high school, and stayed in an apartment with Madame Giry during the summer each year. When they both graduated without jobs that would provide enough income to rent an apartment for their own, they continued to share a room in Madame Giry's two bedroom flat in Soho. Both Christine and Meg swore they would find a place of their own as soon as they could, although Madame Giry assured them both they should not rush themselves in finding employment and should stay with her as long as it takes to find the job they are happiest with.
Meg could not imagine having a better mother, and Christine wondered how she got so lucky as to be unofficially adopted by Madame Giry.
With Meg's salary as a dancer, she had resolved to cover the cost of groceries and other necessary supplies for living, and Christine was hoping the bartending would aid her in paying some amount of rent to Madame Giry; as much as she could manage while also paying off student loans. Both Meg and Christine managed to go through college mostly via scholarships, but they did not come out completely debt free. They knew this was the price they had to pay for going to such a renowned school.
Known primarily for its theatre, music and arts programs, Christine attended the school for journalism, knowing that singing was far too competitive a career to take a chance on when her voice was, in her opinion, subpar. Though Meg assured her if she put in enough work, her voice could likely be good, Christine doubted it would ever be good enough to set her apart from other candidates, and she would find herself waitressing for the rest of her career in New York City.
Instead, she found herself bartending with a degree in journalism. She had hoped to find her way into the world of music through writing - it was another one of her talents, along with her keen observation skills, and she knew that she could find a place in that world if she were an arts and culture reporter or even a theatre critic. However, the business was still small, and she knew it would take time to find a suitable job, so here she was, walking towards the bar of the Opera house, unable to identify a single bottle on the rack behind it.
Halfway through her shift, as she was practicing yet another popular drink with the watchful eyes of her manager behind her, a young man approached the bar. Her manager encouraged her to give taking an order a try, and she walked to the front of the bar, awaiting the man's order. He looked up from his phone, and her eyes were met with familiar blue ones, a gentle twinkle in them that she'd almost forgotten completely.
Raoul de Chagny. Business major, class of 2016, and one of the kindest men she'd ever known. She blushed, realizing that he was likely a patron of the Opera now and she was simply making drinks for the likes of him, but she refused to allow herself to sink deeper into her shame. She worked hard throughout college and if this is where she must begin to progress further into her career, that is simply how it must be.
The sound of his voice, low but gentle, almost like a purr, snapped her out of her contemplation. "Little Lotte," he grinned, shaking his head in disbelief. "I haven't seen you since you spun that tale drunk at Michael's party - the story of Little Lotte and the Angel of Music, remember?" he teased, and she smiled, knowing his humor was never ill intended.
"Yes, and your lovely friends called me 'Little Lotte' for the rest of my days at our university. Should I thank you for that?" she quipped, though her smile betrayed her. She nearly felt like jumping over the counter to hug him. Instead, he placed his hands on top of hers - a friendly gesture that was not uncommon with him, a knowing touch that caused everyone who received it to feel acknowledged and cared for. Kindness was his superpower, really, and she felt immediate warmth in her chest at the contact.
"How have you been, Christine? I am so sorry I couldn't attend you and Meg's graduation party, I had business in Japan," he asked.
"Business in Japan, did you? Ever the entrepreneur - one year out of college and you're flying overseas for business! You truly are a wonder, Raoul," Christine replied, averting the subject of how she had been. She did not know how to reply when really, graduating and no longer having assignments and articles and projects to distract her permitted her far too much time to think, and the grief of her father had caught up to her all over again. The summer after graduation was spent mourning a death that occured four years before that.
He did not seem to notice her changing the subject, and they chatted pleasantly for a few moments before Christine was interrupted by her manager, no doubt prompting her to resume her work. She looked at Raoul apologetically, and he simply waved a hand.
"You get back to work, Little Lotte, I'm sure I'll see you around," he winked. She giggled at that, much like a young school girl, and she would've mentally chastised herself for it if he had not put his hand on hers once more, placing a business card in her hand. "In case you lost my number," he explained. "We really should catch up sometime," he smiled one last time before squeezing her hand and walking away.
She watched him for a few moments, feeling as though she was witnessing the very embodiment of the happiness she once felt drifting away - she remembered the fun she used to have with friends, the smiles she exchanged and the laughter she shared before all the things she bottled up so many years ago caught up with her.
She had different bottles to tackle tonight, though, and she resumed working, hoping it would help her push these feelings down the way that studying always did.
A/N: Hello, my wonderful friends (and also, I suppose readers that don't know me!) This is my first proper multi-chapter fic and I'm honestly pretty proud of it so far, but I'm also more nervous than I've ever been about anything I've ever written in my life. (And I'm a journalism major. So I've written a lot. Also, yes, Christine is a journalism major in this fic too, but I SWEAR that's not entirely due to my desire to self insert...it's mainly me following the "write what you know" philosophy. And I know nothing about studying music in college, so yeah.) Anyway, I'm rambling right now because I'm really nervous, but yeah. I think this is more developed and detailed and layered than anything else I've ever written in my life, so I'm proud of it. But I'm also terrified. So...please do let me know what you think! I hope you're having a wonderful Tuesday, and thank you for reading this :)