Christine Daaé, like many other people her age, had developed a desperate need for daily coffee. Being a college student had made her quite dependent on the caffeinated drink, especially when it came to her early-morning classes or occasional sessions of late-night studying. As her education progressed and her classes got harder, she got less sleep and began drinking the popular beverage more and more until she had eventually formed the habit of drinking a cup every morning. Living on a college campus in a metropolitan area afforded her plenty of coffee shops and cafés to choose from, but Christine only ever went to one—Café Lemont. It was a small, eclectic place owned by an older French woman, and it never failed in serving delicious, freshly-made brews. Over the years, Madame Giry, the café owner, had become something like a second mother to Christine, and she was always happy to converse with the kind woman when she came in for her morning fix.
Today, however, was different.
"Shit," Christine muttered to herself as she entered the shop. If today were like any other day, she would have greeted all the familiar workers and fellow regulars, then would have sat down at her usual table and waited for the Madame to bring out their shared french-press coffee. She had truly grown to love the familiarity of coming to the same shop every day. It was something that had been missing in her life for a long time. This morning, however, as she strolled into her safe haven, she saw someone that she had hoped against all hope to never see again—her recent ex, Raoul Chagny.
Christine frantically looked around the room for a place to hide. Luckily, he had his back turned towards the door as he ordered his drink at the counter. She quickly spotted a large, fake plant placed in a shadowy corner of the shop and, without thinking, ran to it. As she hurriedly tried to scoot it away from the wall to give herself some space to hide, she belatedly realized that there was someone watching her from their seat at the table to the right of the plastic fern. In her mad dash, she hadn't noticed him sitting there with his newspaper, but she supposed that his decision to take up a position in a poorly-lit spot hadn't helped. She awkwardly gave him an apologetic smile as she ducked behind the false foliage and looked out between its leaves.
There he was, in all his usual glory, standing by the end of the counter, waiting for his coffee. "God damn it, Raoul. You know I love this place, why did you have to come here to get your morning cup?" Christine knew she was talking to herself but truly didn't have the mind to care about whether or not she seemed crazy. She had other things to worry about. Nevertheless, when she finally did glance over at the man sharing her dark corner and noticed that he was trying to hide an amused smirk, she realized that yes, she absolutely did seem mental.
She turned her attention back to her real problem and spotted him sitting by the window—no doubt waiting for her to come in. By the morning light, he looked as devastatingly handsome as he always did. His boyishly cute, tousled, dark blonde hair, his dashing blue eyes, his perfectly sculpted features, and his infuriatingly charming smile were all on obnoxiously great display. Christine suddenly wanted to hit something, but for the sake of not being found in her hiding spot, settled for cursing him silently and clenching her fists.
It felt like hours before she saw him leave, and when he finally did, her body sagged with relief. She checked her worn out leather watch. He'd really only been waiting for half an hour. She let herself slowly sink to the floor as she leaned back against the wall and closed her eyes. God, she hated seeing him. It really wasn't so long ago that she had laughed in his company and slept in his arms, but it seemed like ages had passed since then. How had they come to this?
"As amusing as it's been to watch you hide and talk to yourself, I'm afraid it's not nearly as entertaining to watch you sit on the floor."
A beautiful voice snapped her out of her thoughts, and she opened her eyes. She looked up to find the man who had been sitting directly in front of her watching her curiously. He was wearing a peculiar white mask over the right half of his face, and his eyes were an incredible shade of amber. When she went to answer, she realized with embarrassment that she hadn't really registered what he had said.
"Uh, what?" Christine winced at how empty-headed she sounded. Now he probably thought she was incompetent as well as crazy.
"If you were ducking in this corner in order to avoid the blonde fop that was in here earlier, you are safe to get up now. He is gone." He spoke with utmost civility, but Christine couldn't help but think she heard a hint of hidden anger or irritation.
"Oh, yeah. Thanks!" She got up off the floor, feeling extremely childish. "Sorry about all that. Hope I didn't ruin your morning coffee, they really do make the best here."
"No need to apologize. It was not an altogether unpleasant interruption." Christine noted that he didn't talk quite like anyone else she knew. Not only did he carry a slight accent, but he also spoke with a peculiar sort of distinction. He sounded sophisticated.
"Well, that's good! I think…" She inwardly cringed at her thoughtless response. Knowing that she didn't have any way to salvage the situation, she quickly attempted to dismiss herself. "Anyway, I'm going to go ahead and get out of your hair now. I'm already late for class…Have a nice day!"
Awkwardly, she nodded and turned to leave, practically sprinting out of the shop.
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"Ugh, Meg. I've had the weirdest day."
Christine loved few things as much as talking to her dearest friend. Meg was Madame Giry's daughter and had been the whole reason that Christine had tried Café Lemont in the first place. The French woman's child had long, blonde hair that she dyed light pink at the ends, kind hazel eyes, a delicate nose, friendly dimples, and an annoyingly perfect body. Christine had met Meg in a dance class that they had both taken during their first semesters, and she had instantly taken a liking to the talented, blonde ballerina.
"Aw, poor Christine. And on a Friday, too! What happened?" In all the time that Christine had known her, Meg had always been exceedingly sympathetic. Christine adored her open and understanding disposition.
"You know that I like to go to your mom's place everyday to get coffee, right?" Meg nodded. "Well, guess who I almost ran into today when I went there this morning?" Christine suspected that her friend would know exactly who she was talking about.
"Don't tell me you saw that scumbag ex of yours." Christine puckered her lips and nodded. In response, Meg dramatically dropped her jaw and gasped. "You're kidding! What did you do?"
"Okay, so I walk in, see him standing at the counter, and book it to the nearest hiding spot. I ran to that weird-looking fake plant your mom keeps in the dim corner of the shop. You know which one I'm talking about?" Without waiting for Meg's answer, Christine continued. "Alright, so there I was, running around and talking to myself, when I noticed that there was someone sitting there watching all of this happen. God, Meg, it was so humiliating! I tried to play it off with a smile, but I'm pretty sure the guy just thought I was nuts." Christine groaned and put her hand to her head as she remembered the uncomfortable encounter. Meg laughed.
"Well, at least you didn't have to talk to Raoul." Always looking at the bright side.
"Yeah, I guess. But it got even more embarrassing after that. When Raoul finally left, I just sat on the floor daydreaming until this guy said something to me. I didn't really catch what he said, but I got up off the floor feeling like a total idiot." Christine let out an agitated chuckle. "Then, when I tried to apologize for the craziness he had to witness, he brushed it off and said it hadn't been entirely 'unpleasant'." She threw up air quotes as she spoke the word. "God, the worst part was that he sounded all worldly and educated, while I stood there stumbling over my words, sounding like an airhead and acting like a lunatic…" Christine drifted off as she bit her lip and scrunched her nose. Meg knew that look.
"Christiiiine…" She said coaxingly.
"What? Don't give me that look!"
"Christine!" Meg always knew when she was leaving something out.
"Ugh, fine! When I realized I had already made a terrible impression and that the situation was beyond salvation, I literally ran out of the shop. I completely forgot my coffee. Pretty sure your mom thought I'd seen a ghost."
Meg burst out laughing. "You are the most ridiculous person I have ever met!"
"Great, Meg. This is really helpful." She tried to be annoyed at her friend for taking joy out of her embarrassment, but found herself holding back her own laughter.
"Relax, Chris. You probably won't ever see this guy again anyway."
"You're right." With a sigh of relief, Christine chuckled. In hindsight, her complete lack of grace and class in handling the situation actually was pretty funny. Conversation flowed easily for the next quarter of an hour.
Meg was in the middle of saying something about her music history class when Christine suddenly interrupted. "He wore a mask, you know."
"Huh? Who?"
"The guy in your mom's shop... He was wearing a white mask over the right half of his face."
"Oh, that's weird. Can't say I've ever seen that before. What made you think of it?"
"I don't know, it's just been on my mind. He had the most incredible eyes, Meg. They were practically golden! I've never seen eyes like those in my life."
"Maybe I can ask my mom if she knows him. Do you know his name? How old do you think he was?"
"I definitely don't know his name, but if I had to guess his age, I'd say maybe mid-thirties… I don't know, it was too dim to really tell."
"Well then forget about it! I really doubt you'll run into him a second time." Christine hummed in acknowledgement and nodded. "Anyway, are you going to Jamie's party tomorrow night?"
"I don't know, I have to go to work. If I'm not too tired, maybe I'll pop by afterwards."
After finishing her lunch with Meg and attending her remaining classes for the day, Christine could not have been more eager to get home to her apartment. Aside from the disastrous morning, her Friday had panned out be fairly average, and the day had left her absolutely exhausted. As she left her lecture hall and headed towards home, she had every intention of ordering Chinese from the place down the street, watching a movie, and crashing in her bed.
Half an hour later, as she sat on the couch in her sweats while eating moo shu pork and laughing at Kung Fu Panda, Christine felt satisfaction and a small sense of triumph. She had successfully evaded her ex and survived another week. With her brown curls still dripping from her shower, she felt clean, warm, and relatively peaceful.
When the movie ended, she shoved her leftovers in the fridge, brushed her teeth, and flopped down on her mattress.
Images of glittering, golden eyes and a stark, white mask floated through her mind as she drifted off to sleep.
A/N: This is my first go at modern AU stuff. Please feel free to leave comments, as I'm happy to improve my abilities as both a writer and a story-teller. Also, I'm on tumblr, so please feel free to reach out to me there centuryunited. Hope this is enjoyable :)