Chapter 13: Driving Miss Daae

After moving back to her hometown, Christine had forgotten how recklessly everyone drove in the city of Persepolis. Either that, or she just so happened to be in a car with the worst driver in the entire city. Probably both. They'd barely been on the road for thirty minutes, and Erik had already flipped off three cars and narrowly avoided a major accident. Nadir hadn't been joking when he'd asked Christine to ensure Erik didn't total the car. The masked man was an absolute maniac behind the wheel.

Neither spoke except for Erik's frequent exclamations of road rage and Christine's half hearted responses as she scrolled through her phone.

"Did you see that jackass?" Erik snapped. "He cut me off!"

"Yep."

Nothing Erik could do about it now. The offending driver was long gone.

Christine sighed when her phone screen went black. She leaned forward to dig through her purse before remembering that she had left her portable charger on the kitchen counter. Now she had to make it through the next few hours with Erik and a dead phone. Christine huffed as she sat up, but her head slammed the back of her seat when the car accelerated as they whizzed through an intersection. Several drivers blasted their horns, but Erik left them in the dust.

"Erik! That was a red light!" Christine scolded.

"Pfft. It was barely red."

Christine closed her eyes and took a deep breath. If she slapped Erik across the face, she'd only distract him more, and they'd crash, no doubt. That knowledge was the only thing protecting his face from her hand.

"Hey, can I ask you something?" Christine inquired sweetly as Erik made another jerky lane shift.

"Yeah, shoot," he replied.

"Who the hell thought it was a good idea to give you a license!"

"Wait, you mean you need a license to operate one of these things?"

"You better be joking-Get your hands on the wheel!" Christine shrieked. Erik had removed his hands from the wheel and was looking at the controls as if he'd never seen them before in his life. Christine screamed and covered her eyes as they nearly side swiped someone, but Erik cackled in delight.

"Yes, I'm joking. I know you're supposed to have a license…" he teased.

Christine closed her eyes and leaned her head against the seat. It'd been awhile since she'd last prayed, but now was as good a time as ever:

Hi, God. It's me, Christine Daae. Please don't let me die tonight. I'm not ready to meet you.

Christine's eyes snapped open when 80s techno music blared through the car speaker.

"Nadir and his crappy music..." Erik muttered under his breath as he reached for the radio dials. The techno music was replaced mid-song by country.

"Oh, hell no," Christine sassed.

"Don't need to tell me twice." Erik fiddled with the stereo again. Temporary radio static was a welcome replacement to the infernal country music before soothing jazz filled the car. "You like jazz?" Erik joked, barely containing his laughter as he quoted that stupid movie Christine couldn't remember the name of. She was unamused.

"Erik, keep your eyes on the road," Christine ordered.

"One minute."

Radio static again.

"Erik, please keep your eyes on the road," she begged.

"I said one minute!"

"Erik! Look up!"

Erik slammed on the brakes and the car came to a screeching halt, seconds before they rear-ended a car stopped at the red light. Christine leaned over and gave the back of Erik's head a well deserved smack.

"Ow! What was that for?" he grumbled as he rubbed his head in pain.

"wHaT wAs tHat fOr?" Christine mocked.

Erik rolled his eyes before continuing to mess with the radio. When the traffic started moving again, all he'd found was a news broadcast. Impatient drivers honked their horns for him to move.

"Oh, fuck off!" Erik shouted as he waved a rude hand gesture to the driver behind him.

Well, that made four cars.

Erik pulled into the intersection before turning around and nearly crashed into a car in the opposing traffic who'd taken advantage of Erik's delay and ran their red light. Christine's life flashed before her eyes as Erik's horn drowned out whatever crap happened to be playing on the radio.

"What does that crazy bitch think she's doing?" Erik snarled. He reached for the radio again, but Christine swatted his hand away.

"No! You lost your radio privileges. I pick," Christine snapped.

"Can I submit a request?"

"No."

Christine reached for the radio controls and flipped through the stations. "Don't Stop Believin" was playing on a pop station.

Well, I'm a small town girl, he's a city boy, and I really wish I took that midnight train going anywhere but here...

After another round of radio static, Christine breathed a sigh of relief when a classical symphony floated through the car speaker.

"I was looking for that anyway," Erik grumbled.

"Sure you were."

They caught the tail end of the symphony before the radio host introduced the next piece. When an opera aria began, Christine smiled and leaned forward to turn up the volume.

"You an opera fan?" Erik asked.

"Yeah, I used to be an opera singer actually, before I got the elementary school gig."

"Let me guess...a soprano?"

"Is it that obvious?" Christine giggled. She was a rather small woman, and her even speaking voice had a light, birdlike quality.

"Well, my guess was that you definitely weren't a contralto." Erik chuckled. "Maybe a mezzo though...Do you know this aria?"

"Yeah. 'Queen of the Night Aria'. Not a bad choice for Halloween, I guess."

Of course Christine recognized the aria. Not only was it a standard of soprano repertoire, it was one of the most famous opera arias of all time.

"I figured you knew what it was," Erik clarified. "I wanted to know if you could sing it."

Christine glared at him. Was he testing her? She made no reply before jumping straight into the aria. Erik nodded and smiled as she matched every note, every lyric, with the recording. Her voice cracked on the highest note of the piece, startling both of them.

"Sorry...I guess it's been a little while. I'm a bit rusty..." Christine muttered. She blushed and silently cursed herself for being a show-off and Erik for being an instigator.

"It was one mistake. So what? I think you're very talented," Erik answered with the faintest smile. "And besides you were sitting down with your arms across your chest. Hardly good posture for singing."

"Yeah, I guess...thank you."

As Erik laughed, Christine's blushed deepened. She hunched her shoulders, shrinking into the back of her seat.

"So," he continued. "What's a great singer like you wasting your time with elementary schoolers and summer camps?"

Christine's slouched posture snapped rigidly straight. Her eyes widened in anger and disbelief at what she'd just heard. Just when she thought they were having a decent conversation, Erik had to go and ruin it with his nonexistent filter.

"It's hardly a waste of time when you're working a job you enjoy," she scoffed. Christine had repeated those words many times when questioned why she chose opera singing instead of a more stable career. Now she wasn't sure what she meant by the statement. Did she really enjoy her job at the elementary school?

"Oh...you're right...I'm sorry," Erik stammered. "I shouldn't have been so...brash."

Christine furrowed her brow in confusion. Erik had never apologized in the past for his rudeness, but then again, she'd never been bold enough to call him out on it. It felt good to stand up to him for once.

"I forgive you, but don't let it happen again," Christine said proudly. "But...I guess to answer your question, life doesn't always turn out the way one expects," she added with a sigh.

"Hmm…I know what you mean."

"What?" she joked. You mean, when you went to music school you didn't expect to be stopped on the street and forced to run a summer camp?"

"Hah! No, that didn't cross my mind, but actually, I studied engineering," Erik confessed.

Christine's jaw dropped in surprise. So, that's why they never met in the tiny music department of Persepolis University.

"Well, that's quite the career switch. How'd that happen?" she asked.

"Well, I guess I always wanted to be a musician, but everyone told me I'd be wasting my time." Erik rolled his eyes, and Christine nodded in agreement; she'd heard that one before. "Actually," Erik continued, "I don't think I would've gone to college at all, but I got one of those military scholarships-" he stopped.

"Well! That's rather impressive," Christine exclaimed in disbelief.

Raoul had been the pride of their high school class when he'd been awarded a military scholarship; they went to kids with top grades and spotless disciplinary records. Perhaps Erik had been smart, but there was no way he'd been a teacher's pet back in the day, and there was absolutely no way he'd had the same moral character as Raoul.

"So, is that how you know Raoul de Chagny, then?" Christine asked. "He received one of those scholarships as well. For the Navy."

"Hmm...Well, I didn't really know him, just knew of him," Erik insisted with the same indignance he'd had on the last day of summer camp. "But, no, I was in the Army. That's how this happened actually…" He gestured to his mask. "We were inspecting some machinery and…" he trailed off.

Christine's heart sank with pity. Erik was disfigured. That's what the mask was for, and she guessed the rest of his body was similarly deformed judging from how he covered head to toe even during the heat of summer. Christine pictured traumatic burns and scars coursing up and down his body. She could only imagine how nightmarish his face must be if wearing a mask was a better alternative. No wonder he was antisocial when he was constantly fighting stares and suspicions. At least in a big city like Persepolis, Erik was one of many oddballs, but in Gothenburg he was the sole deviation from the norm. Moving into the local haunted house only heightened his eccentricity.

"Erik...I'm so sorry," said Christine, sympathetically. She couldn't shake the feeling that, despite his injuries, Erik could have actually been one of the lucky ones, which, of course, would have only added to his trauma. She regretted cracking jokes about him with Meg and complaining about him to Mrs. Valerius. Neither of those women were known for keeping a tight lip.

"Eh, it's fine." Erik shifted uncomfortably in his seat. It was anything but fine. "We've talked enough about me though, Christine. I believe we were talking about you and opera." Erik smiled, but Christine wished he'd forgotten to return to the topic.

"Oh, yeah…You asked earlier tonight why I moved back home," Christine began. He'd given his sob story, so now it was her turn to confess. "My father got sick last year. I left an opera production so I could take care of him and cover his job. He used to be the elementary school music teacher, but he passed away last winter."

Christine had had it all: her own apartment in the big city, a budding romance with her childhood sweetheart, and her dream operatic role, the infamous Queen of the Night in Mozart's The Magic Flute. But she'd abandoned everything without a second thought. Her father needed help, and once he recovered, Christine could return to her independence.

But life took a different turn. She had to withdraw permanently from the opera production and everyone was furious. Well, everyone except her understudy. Staying in Gothenburg was the best option for the time being. Grief had rooted her in place.

"Christine...I'm so sorry," said Erik, his tone lacking its usual brashness. When they'd worked the summer camp together, he never would've guessed her father had passed away months before. The last thing Christine had needed was a callous co-worker.

"Eh, it's fine," Christine said with a shrug. It was anything but fine.

"I'm sure your father would be proud you're following in his footsteps."

"No. I think he'd tell me to get on with my life," Christine said bitterly. Her father wouldn't want her holding onto the past when she was young and should be living life to the fullest.

"Do you want to go back to opera?" Erik asked. Christine shrugged.

"It's too late. I left the company, and I have my new job, and-"

"It's never too late, Christine. Look at me. I always wanted to be a concertmaster, and now I am. I just have an engineering degree, years of military service and a messed up face to go with it!"

Erik's self depreciation aroused a small chuckle from Christine.

"I suppose you're right. It's only been a year I guess." Christine sighed. An eternity had passed since her father called her last autumn with the news of his illness. So much could change in a year.

"A year? That's nothing," Erik said. When Christine didn't reply, he continued, "What if I helped you? I could give you lessons and-"

"So you sing opera now too?" Christine teased. Was there anything this man couldn't do?

Before Christine could yell at him to get his hand back on the wheel, Erik reached over to turn down the string quartet currently playing on the radio. When he opened his mouth to sing, his golden voice sent Christine into utter disbelief. Erik had picked his own Halloween themed piece; Christine heard Schubert's Erlkönig many times, but never like that.

"Where'd you learn to sing like that?" she asked breathlessly when Erik had finished his performance. He hadn't sung the whole piece, but she was dying to hear more.

"I mean it when I say I had some weird hobbies as a kid," Erik replied. "I used to drive my mother crazy with all the useless stuff I was researching."

"Let me get this straight...You taught yourself to sing like that for fun?"

"Yeah, I guess?"

"I don't know why people bother getting music degrees when there's people like you," Christine declared.

"Wait, so you'll take lessons with me?" Erik asked excitedly. He'd never been more grateful for his mask in his life. Christine's compliment had caused his face to turn bright pink beneath the dark material.

"I mean...if you want to teach me!"

"Yay!" Erik cheered and grinned ear to ear.

Christine observed him curiously. She'd seen Erik laugh and smile before, but only at someone else's expense, usually hers. Never before had she seen Erik genuinely happy. It was rather endearing when he spoke rapidly about the repertoire they'd cover and how much fun they were going to have. Christine didn't know "fun" was a word in Erik's vocabulary.

In the blink of an eye, the remainder of the drive passed. Christine had expected to spend the endless stretch of highway counting road signs and falling asleep if she was lucky, but she and Erik were getting along for the first time. One commonality between them catalyzed a prolonged conversation. Once they'd finished talking about opera, they moved on to classical music, which led to film scores, until they eventually began discussing their favorite movies.

"You like Mission Impossible!" Erik exclaimed. "Which one is your favorite?"

"Rogue Nation. Although I confess I'm partial to the scene where they're at the opera. You know the one?"

"Yes! I'm a sucker for when they use classical music in films-Oh shit…"

Christine lurched to the side as Erik swerved to make the exit to Gothenburg.

"Sorry about that…I wasn't paying attention," he apologized.

"Don't worry about it. I should have warned you it was coming up," Christine replied. She'd made the drive dozens of times, eagerly looking for the exit that began the last leg of her journey home. This time, however, she hadn't been paying attention either.

The conversation picked up right where it'd left off as they coasted down wooded back roads separating Christine's hometown from the main highway. With great disappointment, Christine spied the "Gothenburg Welcomes You!" sign peeking through overgrown shrubbery on the side of the road. They'd reached the outskirts of town. Christine directed Erik through Gothenburg until they reached her address.

"This one right here." She pointed to her house, and Erik pulled into her driveway.

"Would you like me to walk you up?" He turned in his seat to survey their surroundings.

"Oh, it's alright. I don't think anyone's prowling in the bushes," Christine joked. Gothenburg was a safe town. Sure, bad things happened everywhere, but Christine never felt endangered running around after dark as a child or occasionally sneaking out at night as a teenager. Erik's childhood must have been different growing up in the city. From his tough facade, Christine guessed he was from one of the rougher neighborhoods.

If Erik was disappointed by Christine's response, he made no sign of it. In fact, he was smiling as Christine typed her number into his phone and sent herself a message, so they could plan lessons after she'd revived her dead phone.

Christine opened the passenger side door, but before she stepped out of the car, she turned back to Erik.

"Thank you again for driving me home. This was really very kind of you," she said warmly.

"You're very welcome, Christine."

Erik watched her run up the front path, hugging herself to keep out the cold. He didn't leave until she was safely inside and waved from the door. Erik wanted to stay longer, but he took her wave as a cue to go. As he drove home, Erik couldn't escape the warm feeling that had been steadily growing in his chest; he couldn't wipe the smile from his face even if he tried.

The tides are changing! As always, thank you for reading! :)