A/N: Well, I know I'll probably regret starting another chaptered fic without finishing the first, but eh. So, this is my first try at modern day PotO, and I hope you'll enjoy it. Don't forget to review – good or bad:)

Disclaimer: I don't own PotO. Sorry to disappoint. ;) The title comes from the (amazing) David Gray song by the same name, which I also don't own.

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If working at Copper Creek Hotel had one redeeming quality, it was that it was barely a minute drive from a coffee shop. Twenty-four year old Christine Daaé was currently enjoying that particular advantage, preparing to leave Coffee Populaire after ordering herself a vanilla latte.

It was early in the morning, and Christine took a sip of the much-needed caffeine as she made her way towards the door. If she were to make it through her shift at the hotel, she would need all the coffee she could get.

Christine glanced at her watch; she had ten minutes to drive to the hotel where she worked at the desk during the mornings, and as a live entertainer in one of Copper Creek's restaurants a few nights a week. Checking in and singing songs for the uppity businessmen and rich travelers who stayed at the hotel wasn't quite how Christine imagined her career would be progressing, but certain circumstances had made her set her dreams aside for now. At the very least, the job was close to home and coffee.

Pushing the door open, Christine was still lost in her thoughts. The cool morning air had just reached her face when she collided straight into something, or rather someone, just outside the doorway.

All at once, Christine found herself on the hard ground, the latte that had been in her hand lying beside her, its contents quickly spilling onto the sidewalk.

Christine groaned. Really? Of all the times this could happen, did it have to be when she very much needed the energy boost? Grabbing the empty cup, Christine stood up gingerly and looked to the person she ran into. He was older than her, tall with dark hair and – and a mask? Christine tried not to look too closely, and opened her mouth to apologize for her clumsiness when she was cut her off.

"May I assume no one has detailed to you the disadvantages of not paying attention to where you're going?" the man said coolly, leaning down to pick up the file that had fallen when he and Christine had collided.

"Oh, I –" Christine spluttered, taken aback at the sharp words. "I'm sorry, I just had a lot on my mind and didn't look before I opened the door…."

"Obviously," came the drawling reply.

Christine felt a hint of blush creep into her cheeks along with a bit of anger. "At least the coffee didn't land on you," she said, gesturing to the mess her latte had made on the ground.

The man raised an eyebrow and said, "Should I profess my undying gratitude now, or would you prefer me to wait?"

Christine scowled slightly. She had said she was sorry – did this guy need to make her feel worse? "Right. Well, I'm sorry again. Next time I'm walking out of a building, I promise to look both ways before stepping out the door."

Without waiting for another sarcastic reply, Christine sidestepped the man and marched toward her car. Glancing at her watch, she found her ten spare minutes had dwindled to five. The hotel was close enough that she would make it on time, but she'd need to hurry through the parking lot.

When she arrived at Copper Creek Hotel, coffee-less and still annoyed, she took her seat at the front desk next to Meg Giry, her friend and co-worker.

"You're late," Meg said with a smile, looking up from her computer.

Christine glanced at the clock on her screen – it was just two minutes till. "I'm not late, my shift doesn't technically start until seven."

"Well, normally you're here five minutes earlier than me, so relatively speaking, you're late. Mr. Firmin already came by to let us know that we're expecting someone important to check in today and to be extra helpful. But anyway, what held you up?" Meg spun her chair to face the part of the desk Christine sat.

"I ran into someone outside Coffee Populaire."

"An old friend or someone?" Meg asked curiously.

"No, not like that. I mean, I literally ran into someone, fell to the ground, and dropped my coffee," Christine explained. "And then this jerk practically took my head off."

"Well, you did run into him."

"There was no need for it – I mean it wasn't like the coffee spilled on him!" Christine said forcefully. "It just fell onto the concrete. If anyone should be mad, it should be me for falling down and for wasting a perfectly good vanilla latte."

"Maybe he was just having a bad morning and you were the person he took it out on," Meg pointed out.

"But still! What can be so bad at seven in the morning that you feel the need to be rude to someone like that?"

Meg considered her for a moment before saying in mock solemnity, "Christine, everyone's fighting a battle you know nothing about."

Christine snorted. "Shut up, Meg."

"Wow, you're cranky without caffeine – I'm just trying to be helpful." Meg smiled innocently. In truth, Christine's indignation was more than a little amusing. "So, what did this mean jerk man look like?"

"I don't really see why that matters," Christine said, "but he was ridiculously tall, had dark hair, and he wore a mask."

"A mask?" Meg repeated blankly.

"Yeah. It was white and covered half of his face," Christine said, holding her hand to her face to demonstrate.

"Right, because that's normal," Meg muttered.

"It doesn't really matter, because now I'm over it. It was just a coffee, and I just needed to vent." Christine smiled apologetically at Meg and then added, her happy tone hiding her sarcasm, "The rest of today I'll be bright and cheery and do Copper Creek Hotel proud with my positive attitude."

"That's the spirit, Chris," Meg said with a laugh. "I mean, what can't be happy about getting paid very little money for answering phones and dealing with cranky guests?"

"My point exactly," Christine replied. After her words, a comfortable silence fell between them, and they each began working on their computers until the next guest would come inside.

A few minutes passed uneventfully before Meg called softly, "Hey, Christine?"

"Yeah?" Christine said, not looking up.

"Well, I know this will probably renew your righteous indignation, but I feel I should tell you anyway."

"What are you talking about, Meg?"

"Your coffee-spilling masked man just walked through the hotel's entrance," Meg said, looking as though she was struggling to keep from laughing.

Christine's head jerked towards the doors at Meg's words; sure enough, there was the same man from outside the coffee shop.