A/N: Hey guys! Thanks go out to: Daae-Phantom-Love, Tina95, PHLover213, DaPhatGnome, and ladyphan17. Thank you guys so much for your feedback!
I don't generally switch POVs like this, but when I went to write this chapter, Erik wanted a turn to be the main character. I really can't deny Erik. :)
ladyphan17: I agree! Actually, one thing that serves as a minor pet peeve of mine is when people vilify Raoul to such an extent that he's cartoonish. I don't like Raoul because he inevitably gets what Erik wanted, but I'm also not of the opinion that he was a really bad guy. I just think he's… well, a bit of a fop. :) Anyway, thank you!
-o-
Erik knew as soon as he heard Christine sing that nothing good could possibly come of it.
When he found himself lingering in the alcove that housed the door to his classroom, peering around the corner to see what had brought Christine so quickly out of his class, he was doubly sure of it.
The senseless anger that squeezed his heart when he saw the boy offer Christine his arm and then he watched her take it, smiling up at that wretched little jock and leaning against his shoulder… well, it erased all remaining arguments that he might have tried to make to himself that his interests with the girl were purely musical.
He was interested in her voice.
He wasn't interested in the fact that she obviously had a boyfriend.
As Christine neared the end of the hallway and they took the turn, the boy clearly yammering on about something, Erik saw the toss of Christine's chocolate curls as she turned her head to gaze back toward his classroom.
Hastily ducking back inside, he sighed to himself, firmly warning his own restless mind that Christine was a college student, his college student, and her romantic life—all of her personal life, really—should not concern him at all.
Unfortunately, knowing his own obsessive nature, he had a bad feeling that he wasn't going to completely listen to himself.
Good thing he was hideous; his deformity would be able to step in and save him where his mind faltered.
Carelessly sweeping all of his belongings into his bag, Erik hoisted the bag onto his shoulder and headed for the music department.
More than ever before, he really felt the need to compose.
-o-
Tuesday was wretched.
Erik attempted to occupy himself with work, but every once in awhile Christine would rear up in his mind again. He had been attracted to her, naturally; she was a very attractive young woman, and he had noticed several of his male students eyeing her up on the first day. A vague attraction to a pretty girl—even a student—did not warn Erik, it only served as a reminder that he still had a pulse. Her image hadn't followed him that first week; she had been just another pretty face, one of the many that he saw on a daily basis, and there had been nothing about her that truly stood out to him enough for him to even mentally cross a professional line toward impropriety.
The day of the test that certainty had wavered a little bit. He hadn't meant to place his hand on her shoulder; he rarely touched anyone at any time. Somehow his hand had just gravitated there, and he hadn't considered it a very big deal at first, not until he saw the startled reaction on Christine's lovely face, the obvious surprise in those striking brown eyes of hers. She had blushed a little bit, but it was a pleasant blush—not out of embarrassment, really, but out of pleasure. Her blush seemed to be because she enjoyed the contact. Initially he hadn't thought so, but then as he looked at her he could tell she hadn't even been able to focus.
When he left class that day he was a little less comfortable, and he thought of Christine a time or two that evening.
Then Monday, that cursed one week mark. Really, it marked only the fourth time he saw her, but there was something a little different that day. Christine had arrived early and she seemed a little eager to talk to him. Amused, he wondered if his pupil was developing the slightest hint of a teacher crush. It wouldn't be the first female student who had found herself strangely entranced by the mystery and the wisdom that Erik seemed to exude as he lectured. Over the years, there had been a few. None of them lasted, and none of them really mattered; certainly none of the interest had ever been returned.
Asking her to sing the scales had been a spontaneous request. When he got to class that morning, he had planned to play the scale on the piano, not to have a student sing. As she was talking to him, however, the idea hit him to ask her to sing it. He didn't know why, but it didn't seem like a huge deviation.
It had probably been a bad idea.
The classic beauty of her face and figure had been easy to dispel from his mind; the sound of her voice, however, was not going away so easily. Erik's own mother, Madeline, was so obsessed with beauty—and Erik himself was so lacking in that department—that he had developed something of an apathetic disregard for beauty. Unattainable as it was to him, he thought it would be a purely masochistic thing for him to worship.
Music was his weakness. Beauty that came from within, that began in the soul, vibrated through your entire being, and finally flowed out of you to be shared with the world. That kind of beauty was capable of haunting him.
Unfortunately, Christine Daaé seemed to have beauty in spades; physical beauty wasn't enough, she also had to monopolize by having the voice of an absolute angel.
He wanted to hear her really sing. Knowing that her voice could be beautiful in its most basic form, he craved more. He wanted to hear her sing lyrics, he wanted to hear musical accompaniment in the background. If she could make singing the scales sound beautiful, he could guess at how capable she would be at bringing real music to life.
However, he didn't want to only guess.
Tuesday night as he sat in the chorus practice and listened to the other students who were not nearly as good as Christine, he had to fight an urge to grimace. Once or twice, he really thought about getting up and leaving.
Unfortunately, he would have to talk to Gail after practice to ask her to allow Christine to audition the following night, so he could not leave. Since Gail officially ran the chorus—and Erik only assisted from time to time—he would need her clearance, but he knew that she would give it easily once he made the request.
By the time Wednesday finally rolled around, Erik was even a little annoyed at himself for the little extra kick that had been in his step since he awoke—at 4 am—in anticipation of not only seeing her in class, but getting to hear her sing.
It was a little unnerving how quickly his interest in the damn girl was growing. Under no circumstances should he already be so eager to see her.
Considering she was his student, he should really never be so eager to see her. Michelangelo may have been able to get away with that kind of behavior, but it was hardly befitting a modern faculty member of a prestigious university.
Not that he didn't know professors who had dallied with students, but he had always found the lechers rather repugnant when he found out about it.
Upon entering the classroom, Erik easily caught Christine's gaze. She was grinning at him, her eyes bright as she called out a greeting and took her seat at the front of the class.
It thrilled him a little how she always sat closest to him.
With impossible timing, Christine's phone began to loudly play "Somewhere Over the Rainbow."
Christine's eyes widened to the size of silver dollars as she momentarily stared at the phone as if it had betrayed her, then she quickly snapped her hand over it, silencing it and ignoring the call.
"I'm so sorry! I thought I had my phone silenced."
Smiling slightly, he said, "It's okay; class hasn't even begun yet, you can silence it now."
Shaking her head, she said, "People know I'm in class right now. If you're not dying, why would you call me when you know I'm in class?"
"Well, perhaps they are dying; you didn't answer the phone call to find out."
Rolling her eyes intolerantly, she said, "I highly doubt it."
Lightly smirking, he glanced at her phone and said, "Wizard of Oz fan, huh?"
Christine flushed a little, averting her gaze. "Sort of. I was in the stage production of it locally when I was a kid and… it's a long… stupid story," she finished in a mumble.
Erik nodded and briefly turned his head when Carlotta Montez came strolling in, suddenly sporting red hair with black streaks. He wasn't certain, but he didn't think that was what she had looked like when she had come in Monday.
Christine looked less than pleased that Carlotta was there so early, and instead of talking to him she grabbed her phone and quickly tapped out a message, then she shoved the silenced phone out of sight and out of mind.
The rest of the students eventually came strolling in and Erik gathered up his lecture notes, hoping that the class would fly. He was so eager to introduce Christine to Gail and listen to her sing, he felt a little bit like a child on Christmas morning.
He had been so eager to finish that he ended up talking faster than usual and he finished the class ten minutes early. His students were pleased, although he warned them not to get used to it, and then he gathered up his items as Christine slowly gathered her own things, allowing the other students to file out.
"Do you mind if I walk with you? I'm not entirely sure where I'm supposed to audition."
Smiling, Erik nodded. "Of course you can walk with me."
Walking beside Christine as they left the room was a new experience. Erik was used to standing above her and lecturing her as she sat with the rest of the students, but walking beside her he could see her so much closer—and if possible, she was even more beautiful up close. Her skin was as pale and delicate as porcelain, her lips a rosy shade of pink, those luscious brown eyes of hers surrounded by thick, long eyelashes that curved up naturally. While some girls seemed entirely too fond of make-up, Christine appeared natural with only a touch of mascara and perhaps some lip gloss. She was absolute perfection, and no make-up could improve upon perfection.
A rude passerby was busy talking to his buddy and he bumped into Christine. In an attempt to avoid the collision, she moved closer to Erik, but since he still hit her in the shoulder she collided with Erik's own shoulder.
Blushing again, Christine said, "I'm sorry!"
"Don't be," Erik said, wanting to give the boy a dirty look for being so careless as to bump into her, but unable to muster the irritation as he quite enjoyed the feel of Christine's body brushing up against his, even if only accidentally.
Not good thoughts to be having, he told himself.
"So, if I pass the audition phase, do I find out right away, or do I wait to hear back?" Christine wondered.
"You'll know immediately," Erik replied. "I've already spoken to Gail about you; at this point an audition is more of a formality."
"Oh. Will she mind that I can't come tomorrow?"
"I already told her you wouldn't be able to make it tomorrow. Did you find out if you're going to be able to make it next week?"
Making a face, Christine said, "I asked my boss, but he bit my head off and said that I would get my schedule on Friday just like everybody else. I guess I won't be able to let you know until Monday. Will it be okay to miss two, though? I've already missed one last week."
"Preferably you should be there next week, but if it's absolutely impossible then you'll just come the following week. If you need more practice or you fall behind at all, I would be more than happy to stay after class one day and practice with you."
"Really? That's so nice of you, but I wouldn't want to bother you like that."
"No, it would really be no bother whatsoever," he assured her. "If you need any sort of help with your music, voice lessons, assignments, anything, please don't hesitate to ask me."
"You're a really great teacher, you know that? I'm not trying to suck up or anything, but I thought I should tell you."
His lips curved up wryly but he didn't say anything, just continued to walk the hallway with her pleasant companionship.
The woman that Christine surmised must be Gail was a woman in her mid-to-late 40's with blonde hair that was cropped off to her chin and a pair of dark-rimmed glasses balancing precariously on the bridge of her nose. She was seated and going through a folder when they approached her, but as soon as they approached, she flipped the folder shut and immediately hopped to her feet, offering a pleasant smile and an outstretched to Christine.
"You must be Erik's little ingénue," she remarked pleasantly.
Vaguely blushing, Christine gave a modest head shake and said, "I don't know if I'd go that far…"
Gail still only smiled, but that time she aimed her smile at Erik. "Let's get this show on the road, eh? I've got plans with my husband, and if I want to keep on having a husband, I need to show up."
Nodding his head, Erik told Christine to go up to the stage and he went over to the piano and took a seat. "Do you have a song preference?"
Feeling a little shy about singing in front of the woman she didn't even know without even a chance to warm up, Christine merely shook her head, biting her lip, and hoping she didn't look as nervous as she felt.
Smiling slightly, Erik started playing, and he allowed her to listen for a moment to catch on, and when she did she laughed a little and nodded her approval, dropping her books and approaching the middle of the stage, in Gail's view and closer to Erik.
As Erik played the music over from the beginning, she began to sing along.
Somewhere over the rainbow, way up high
There's a land that I heard of once in a lullaby.
Somewhere over the rainbow, skies are blue
And the dreams that you dare to dream really do come true.
Someday I'll wish upon a star and wake up where the clouds are far behind me.
Where troubles melt like lemon drops, away above the chimney tops,
That's where you'll find me…
Although she was probably supposed to be hoping for Gail's approval, she found herself glancing over at Erik as she prepared to sing the rest. He appeared to approve, his eyes burning with an intensity she didn't quite understand, but she found it encouraging nonetheless.
Somewhere over the rainbow bluebirds fly,
Birds fly over the rainbow
Why then, oh why can't I?
If happy little bluebirds fly beyond the rainbow
Why, oh why can't I?
Erik played the last lingering bits of the melody and then he sat back and merely watched Christine.
Unsurprisingly, Gail grinned, standing up, and said, "Are you sure you only want a spot in the chorus, honey?"
"You liked it then?" Christine asked, flushing with pleasure.
"Liked it? I loved it. Judy Garland would be green if she could hear you sing it. You have a beautiful voice. Of course, I expected as much; Erik isn't easily impressed." Tossing her folder into the briefcase in the seat next to her, she said, "Well, I have to run, I apologize for the rush, but I'll let Erik fill you in on the details."
"Thank you so much," Christine said, her mood soaring as she glanced around the stage. It had been so long since she had performed—even to such a small audience—that she forgot the glowing feeling it produced in her.
Sighing a little as her thoughts drifted, she felt a brief stab of sadness that she couldn't experience more of it.
Gail waved goodbye to both of them and made her way through the doors while Erik stood up from the piano and walked over to her, a look in his eye that she couldn't put a name to.
Blushing a little, she offered a timid smile and said, "Nice song choice."
Shrugging, he said, "I figured you would remember the lyrics. Your voice is… heavenly, Christine. Why are you not studying music?"
The intensity of his words caused her blush to deepen even more; she knew her voice was fairly good, but she didn't think it warranted such admiration. "I'm trying to be practical. I have to study something that I'll be able to use, something that will get me a job so I can support myself. Music is my hobby, but it isn't going to feed me."
"I disagree," he told her. "With a voice as lovely as yours, you would never have to fear going hungry, Christine."
I would never let you go hungry, he thought, but stifled the foolish thought.
Breaking the eye contact but maintaining her smile, she hunched to grab her backpack and sling it over her shoulder, then she met his eyes again. "Thank you very much for this, for… encouraging me to make time for something I love. I appreciate that."
"You're welcome," he replied, his gaze never leaving her eyes. It bothered him, the way that she was so willing to put aside what she loved for practicality's sake—sure, he understood that her more pragmatic side probably attributed musical success to bubblegum pop stars, and Christine would certainly never be one of them. But why couldn't she see what he saw in her?
Her eyes dancing with humor, she said, "Well, to avoid going hungry, I should probably go. I was running too late for breakfast this morning."
In a rather uncharacteristic loss of power, his mind was too slow for his mouth, and before he could think better of it, the words slipped past his lips: "Would you like to have dinner with me?"
Her eyes widened very slightly and her jaw dropped the merest bit.
"To—to discuss your future, perhaps. I meant professionally, of course."
He thought she looked a little embarrassed as she nodded, saying, "Oh, right, of course."
"If you don't want to—it was probably inappropriate of me to…"
"No, not at all," she quickly assured him. "I'd… I'd love to."
"You're sure? I don't want you to feel like you have to…"
"No," she insisted. "I don't. I'd really like to."
"All right. Do you have any preference of where you'd like to eat?"
"Nope, anywhere's fine with me." Her phone began vibrating and she grabbed it, looking down at the number and scowling.
He told himself not to do it, but as his will-power was running low that day, he slyly peered over to see the name flashing across the screen. Scarecrow?
Pushing the ignore button, she dropped the phone in her bag with a rather irritated expression. Then, clearing the irritation from her face, she smiled up at Erik. "Sorry about that. Do you want to go now?"
"Sounds good to me," he told her with a nod. "Do you like Italian?"
"Love it. If I could eat pasta every single day of my life, I would."
Smiling slightly, he said, "Italian it is. I know a great place closer to my apartment building, it's near Central Park. We could probably take the subway and be there in about 15 minutes."
"I think I can wait that long. You live close by then?"
Nodding, he said, "Not far. I walk to work most of the time. I'm over on West 96th, actually, but it's not too long a walk."
Eyes widening, she said, "Oh my gosh, I work so close to where you live! I work at a little diner-slash-café on Broadway between 94th and 95th street."
"You're a waitress?"
"A hostess, actually. They like to keep a two or three girl floor at most so that they actually make some money, so they have a hostess to seat people and get them drinks. It's a cake job, really. I'm mostly just making minimum wage to be a waitress helper, but when they get busy and no one has time to roll silverware or make back-up condiments, I'm nice to have around. I also do any to-go orders, which is sometimes a pain, but sometimes cool because sometimes you get tipped for packing the order and everything."
"Sounds stimulating," he remarked ironically.
"Yes, well… it's a job, I guess."
Shaking his head, he found himself impatient that Christine should have to settle for anything, ever, even temporarily. "You should have a better job than that."
"Agreed," she answered with an easy smile. "As soon as I find one, I'll get right on that."
-o-
A/N: What do you guys think? :)