It's so strange. It is with the further reflection of the situation, that anyone with two eyes could have foreseen all of the things that were to come as a result. It wasn't even a question. Yet, at the moment I was completely deluded and naïve to what was actually occurring. Blind faith and benefit of the doubt lead people to believe that people are good and that when you are a good person, bad things can never happen to you. I must admit that I have been foolish, up until now. I was always taught to respect people in roles of authority. I had never questioned him. In fact, I rather liked him, though he was unorthodox and yelled at me something fierce if something wasn't to his liking. But it made me all the better as a performer. I trusted him. And for that I was wrong.
With a fresh perspective, I believe I can recount the exact moments that should have indicated some kind of danger or wrongness. I was sixteen years old when it all began; I was about to begin my Junior year of High school. I had sung in the school's choir for all of my Middle and High School career, yet I had no real formal training. The choirmaster, Mr. Kahn, Nadir as I have learned favored me and I am sure most of the students knew it but didn't mind it. Well, everyone except Carlotta, she was the only other student in the choir who actually wanted to pursue a career in music. To be fair, she wasn't without talent, but she was mean and entitled and that was enough for people to disregard her.
I remember the day Mr. Kahn introduced me to him. I can't blame Mr. Kahn though, his intentions were not to hand me over to a predator, he simply wanted to help me receive the best training. I had no reason to ever fear for my safety or well-being in those initial two-years, but again, there were signs; I just chose to ignore them.
What can I tell you about my first encounter with Erik Destler? Well, without stating the obvious the first thing I should have questioned heavily before I agreed to continue studying with him was the fact that he wears a mask. I, of course, never mistrusted it, I trusted Mr. Kahn's judgment, and I had explained it away to myself. I knew he must have been deformed, whether it was from birth or an accident I wouldn't dare ask. In fact, I was completely respectful about it, which in hindsight might have led Erik to believe that I was different.
He was, well is, also very tall and thin, but athletic and strong. His demeanor seemed cold and distant. I blamed my age and mind frame for ignoring that desire he obviously had for me since day one.
"Erik, this is the young lady that I have told you about," Mr. Kahn's hand was placed respectfully on my upper back as he led me to meet the masked stranger. "Christine Daae, this is Erik Destler. He will be giving you private lessons after school Monday's and Friday's."
Trying my best to not appear to be rude, and find myself just staring at his mask, I extended my hand out to him and giving my hopefully best smile; I said hello. He took my hand in his, I couldn't help but feel some kind of electricity when my much smaller hand was engulfed by his giant one. His fingers were long, excellent for piano playing and his grip was strong. He raised my hand to his lips, barely grazing it. I felt it then, I ignored it. I hated myself for not recognizing this sooner. Soon we were alone and we went right to work.
He was also very no-nonsense in the beginning, we hardly exchanged pleasantries the first few months of lessons. He would often time scold me for being flat or he would throw music to the floor if I missed an entrance. I could never really understand why I stayed on as a devoted pupil. I guess there was something in me that wanted to impress him, to be able to prove him wrong about me. So that there would come a day where I was a successful singer and I could show him that he was wrong about me. That was all the fire I needed to continue to bear his abuse and tantrums. I needed to win.
Other than the yelling, our lessons were not very noteworthy. I would come in, we would warm up and then he would coach me on whatever piece of music he decided for me. It wasn't exactly the most enjoyable process, but that wasn't really the point of these lessons.
I remember the first time we ever really spoke to each other as two people and not him just teaching me to sing. We had moved our lesson to Friday morning during the second semester of my Junior year because I did not have class all day and it didn't make much sense for me to hang around till after school to have a voice lesson. I was one of the only kids in my grade who had a part-time job. I worked as a waitress at the movie theatre in the town over that served food during the show. It was hard on my back having to duck down, in order not to be in people's way to take their order, but I saved my voice from not having to talk to my customers since all they had to do was write their order down on a piece of paper. All in all, it was a great job to have, it meant I could work nights and weekends without it really interfering with school and lessons. Plus, I was able to save money for whatever it was I was going to do after High School. You see after I turned eighteen I would be on my own, God only knew what social services would even do for me once I aged out of the foster care system, so I had to babysit and work throughout my entire High School career. It scared me shitless, I will not lie to you, but that the moment I graduated, I would be left to fend for myself.
The night before was truly the roughest night of my life, well at that time at least. I'm sure almost 17-year-old Christine wishes she never complained about her issues at the time, knowing what horrors were to come. My, at the time, boyfriend turned ex-boyfriend, Jeffrey had picked me up from work and drove me home, it was at that point when he started to complain about my lack of availability. I was always working, always studying, doing a production and list went on and on. I remember feeling like the worst human being in the world. But he didn't get it, he had parents and he was naturally smart and didn't have to work for anything. We got into a huge fight where I finally said to him that we were done. But it was far from done, we were up all night, he refused to leave, he cried and begged me not to leave him. He claimed he was sorry and wouldn't make demands on my time again. It was truly a nightmare, and I was emotionally exhausted. It was maybe four in the morning by the time he left my front porch, and of course, my foster family didn't even notice that I hadn't come in. I could have been dead in the gutter and it probably wouldn't have dawned on them to search for me.
The next day I am in our lesson with less than four hours of sleep, I could barely keep my eyes open, let alone get through very easy exercises. I remember him slamming on the keys, I could tell he was furious for my lack of effort, "Damn it, Christine!" He roared. "You know this!" I couldn't handle his anger in my weakened state. So I just burst into hysterical, exhausting tears. I could feel his whole demeanor shift from angry to compassionate. I had buried my face into my hands, afraid to make eye contact, embarrassed that I was making such a scene. I collapsed into a ball on the floor just sobbing into my hands. I felt his presence, he was so close yet he didn't touch me, "Christine," my name had never sounded so beautiful, as he caressed every syllable saying my name as if it were some song. "What has you so upset?"
Till this day I didn't know why it was so easy to lament the happenings of the previous night, but it was as easy as talking to my best friend about a cute boy. He listened to me, he hung onto every word, taking in all the information. "He finally left at four this morning, I am so exhausted," I concluded.
He was silent and studying me, his silence went on and on. I was all cried out that I ended up hiccupping from lack of oxygen. Out of his pocket he pulled out a handkerchief and handed it to me, "There now, you mustn't cry over someone as insignificant as him." That made me laugh, whether it was actually funny or I had truly lost my grip on reality was left to be determined.
"I just wish someone would understand why I have to do all that I do, and you know, support me." I shook my head, "My friend Meg is always insisting that I have to be dating someone so that she has someone to double date with. But she's lucky her boyfriend also dances in the same company as her. He understands what she is doing and why she's doing it."
I hated to admit how much I envied Meg, she was blonde, skinny, popular and had found the love of her life in Brian. She was the girl that had everything going for her, yet still remained kind. I didn't have a lot of friends in High School, and that was only because I didn't have time to socialize with them.
"You are very wise for your age," Erik reflected, his voice soothing me, and yet he never touched me. "Boys tend to eat up a lot of time. There are many girls who lose themselves over the fanatical insistence of having a boyfriend."
I sniffled and nodded my head, at last someone who put into words how I truly felt about having a boyfriend at this stage in my life. They were like children, needy and wanting a lot of attention, amongst other things. I felt a smile creeping onto my face, I must have looked ridiculous, half-awake and crying like a crazy person on the floor. He extended his hand to me, just barely so that I could get myself up.
"Now, I think it would be the best use of our time for us to cancel today's lesson," I couldn't quite make out his tone, I was not entirely sure if he was angry or displeased with the time being wasted. "I will expect you tomorrow morning for a make-up lesson."
It was from that lesson forward that I finally began to open up to him about my personal life. Little by little he soon knew probably all there was to know about my day to day life. He knew my parents were dead, that I lived with a foster family, that I worked at Alamo Drafthouse, and that Meg Giry was my best friend since Kindergarten. He knew what classes I liked and those that I loathed. Learned all about my favorite musicals, operas, movies, TV shows, and books. I wouldn't harp on this for so long if I didn't think it was important. You see, it was so easy to talk to him about anything and I never thought why, and that was one of my many mistakes.
It never occurred to me he was actually really listening, hanging onto my every word, allowing me to feel so comfortable, he was an adult that I could talk to; I didn't know how much I needed that. What was worse was that he did. He was always plotting and planning, he was listening so intently so that in the future he could use my words, my thoughts and my character against me. I allowed him to do this without even knowing it.
It was the end of Junior year, finals were over and done with and the beginning of summer break was just on the horizon, we had to discuss the game plan for the summer. I had given my job a very open availability, I wanted to work as much as possible to save up more money, what with college applications in the Fall, I needed to afford college somehow.
"Here is my cell phone number," he said at our last lesson. "Please give me a call when your schedule comes out each week and we can schedule your lessons accordingly." He handed me a card with his number on it. It made me smile that he was so old fashioned with his business cards.
That night Brian brought Meg and I to a graduation party one of the Senior boys was throwing. I hadn't been to a lot of parties, just some small gatherings in people's basements nothing major, but this was a real house party. Unfortunately for me, I went to school with a lot of wealthy kids, and that made me feel more like an outcast than anything else. The music was loud and the people were louder, this was not my idea of a good time. They were passing out cups of punch and Brian had grabbed one for each of us. It tasted sweet so I drank it, little did I know that there was a lot of alcohol in those drinks and I began to feel good, like really good. I was laughing and chatting with people. Having the drink in my hand gave me a new found confidence. I didn't know at the time that people called alcohol liquid courage, but it was just that.
It is truly to blame for my confidence and courage to speak to who up until that night I considered the hottest guy in school, Raoul De Chagny. Oh, Raoul, I wish I hadn't gone to that party. He would have never known I existed, well not until it was too late for him to do anything about his feelings for me. He was the biggest regret of my life if I hadn't pursued him maybe things would have turned out differently. Well at least that's what Erik would have me believe, but that's a story for later. At this point in my story, all I knew was that Raoul was actually talking to me and it was everything that I had imagined it would be.
What can I say about Raoul? Aside from being super cute, he was also the brother of the guy whose party this was. By the size of the house and what it contained, it was clear that he was from a wealthy family. He played football, was also an honor student but the best part was that he too performed in the Spring Musicals. He was well-liked, kind and just like Meg had everything going for him.
That summer I saw Raoul a lot, he would always invite Meg, Brian and myself over to swim in his pool, we would barbeque and drink Mike's Hard lemonades and set off fireworks on the nights that I wasn't working. We never really established that we were going steady or anything like that, it just happened naturally. He would hold my hand and give me kisses every now and again. It almost felt like we were playing a game, just two kids playing at being in love. He had been very different from my previous boyfriends, the ones who were needy the ones who wanted to do things I wasn't ready to do. It was like having a new best friend except this friend was one who would hold me and kiss me, for the first time in my life I had felt like I had finally found the perfect person for me.
It was the end of July and I had had a voice lesson with Erik when he called me out on being distracted, "I'm sorry, I just have a lot on my mind." I explained. He asked me to list out the things that were weighing on me, although I thought it was pretty obvious what could be bothering me. "Well, mostly I am worried about college, will I get in? If I get in will I be able to afford it? I am consistently applying for grants and scholarships. It all seems like everything for my future is just around the corner and we haven't even talked about my audition tapes and what I am to sing." I felt like a lunatic rambling on and on about how stressful the next six months were going to be.
I believe I had made him laugh with all of my worries, I remember being quite infuriated that he would take the time to scoff at my real actual life concerns. I know now why that was, but it was just strange then, "You needn't worry about a thing. You make excellent marks and your voice has surpassed all of my expectations." He said plainly. That was always how he spoke, whenever we would talk about anything other than music. Things were either black or they were white with Erik, he didn't ever worry about anything, or so I thought.
I accepted his comment as a compliment, he never really praised me when we began our lessons. The praise would come soon enough, and I would accept it, but with Erik, everything had its price.
Author's note: I am so excited to start this new story. Please let me know what you think!