Christine woke Saturday morning to a pounding head. The light of her phone glared at her as she checked the time. It was mid-morning, which meant she hadn't wasted the entire day by sleeping off a hangover. Still, she would need to get out of bed eventually.
But she could do that slowly.
She ran through her school e-mail to see if anything had been posted yet. Nothing was present in her inbox, which was to be expected. It was probable they needed the weekend, if not longer, to make casting decisions. Christine was anxious, but she could be patient. Putting off any news, bad or good, was easy. Most of the time.
Absentmindedly, she checked her texts. Erik had texted her last night almost the minute after he walked away from her. She had checked the text several times over, just to make sure it was there. That he had been there.
She opened a new message, his name under the 'To' line.
Christine hesitated. She didn't want to abuse the privilege of having her tutor's - Erik's - number, but the night before had felt like a dream. She needed to know for sure that he hadn't just been a booze-addled hallucination.
Steeling herself, she started typing.
Hi, it's Christine.
But he would know that, wouldn't he? She saved her number into his phone. Practically forced him to take it…
She deleted the line.
Hi.
Christine stared at the screen, biting her lip.
I gave my phone number to my voice teacher, right? I'm afraid I might have met a vampire named Erik and gave him my number instead.
She sighed. That sounded idiotic. And fanciful. And paranoid. He'd think she was a space case.
She deleted the message, cursing her stupidity.
Hi Erik. This IS Erik, right? Voice teacher? I'm pretty sure we talked last night but I could be imagining things.
She braced herself and hit send.
Almost immediately, she received a reply.
This is what happens when you imbibe too much, Miss Daae. You have blank spots in your memory.
She grinned to herself. A distant part of her felt that she should be annoyed by his chastening, but she was glad she hadn't been wrong.
But I remembered you. Therefore, no blank spots.
She waited in her reclined position, holding the phone above her face. She watched with bated breath as the ellipses appeared to indicate he was typing.
So it would seem.
Are we still on for a lesson tomorrow?
She stared at her screen, her stomach twisting unpleasantly. She didn't know why she was so desperate for him to confirm, but a distinct part of her was terrified that he would say no.
After what felt like eternity, he responded.
As I have given no indication otherwise, you can trust that we are still 'on'.
Christine laughed, her cheeks beginning to hurt from grinning so wide. His wit was so dry it made her want to reach for a glass of water.
Great. Thanks. I'm looking forward to it.
As am I, Christine.
She tossed her phone onto the bed, sitting up gingerly. The pain in her head was very much present, but if the sounds of muffled cabinets meant anything, Meg was up and suffering as well. She could do the same.
"Ugh," Christine grunted as a greeting, falling into a chair at the kitchen table. Meg emerged from their small pantry a second later.
"You look how I feel," Meg said.
Christine nodded. "Tell me about it." Meg took out a Gatorade from their refrigerator and handed it to Christine. Christine looked at her questioningly.
"Isn't this terrible for your teeth?" Christine inquired.
"Dehydration, in this case, is worse," Meg answered, taking a large swig from her own bottle. She gestured over her shoulder. "There's orange juice in the fridge if you prefer."
Christine did. Still, Meg's idea had some merit, so she kept the drink.
"We should probably eat something too," Christine said, pondering.
Meg groaned.
Christine laughed a little, instantly regretting it.
"I can't believe people do this to themselves willingly," Christine posited.
"Yeah, well, just because we're in college doesn't mean we're smart," Meg answered, shutting the refrigerator door with her hip. "What are your plans for the day?"
Christine straightened, remembering something. "I think Raoul and I are getting together. He was kind of vague on the plans."
Meg grinned. "Nice!" She touched a hand to her forehead. "Ow."
"Ow," Christine agreed, pinching the bridge of her nose with two fingers.
"Well, perk up, buttercup. You've got to be in fighting form."
A knock sounded at their door. The looked at each other, flummoxed.
"Are you expecting anyone?" Christine asked.
Meg gestured down to herself. "Do I look like I am?"
Grinning, Christine got up slowly and walked towards the door. She pressed her face close to the door, lining up her eye with the peep hole. She gasped. It was Raoul.
"Who is it?" Meg asked loudly.
Christine turned back to her friend sharply, placing a finger over her mouth in a 'shushing' motion. 'Raoul,' she mouthed to her friend.
Meg's eyes widened fractionally before she tore out of the room. Christine could hear her rummaging around to put on decent clothes. Christine rolled her eyes. She looked down at herself. She was still wearing her pajamas, of course, but they weren't very suggestive. Sky blue, long-sleeved flannel with matching pants, decorated with clouds. It was a little embarrassing, but only because it was childish. She shrugged and opened the door.
"Raoul? What are you doing here so early?"
"Hi," he said with a sunny smile. "I was hoping to surprise you and take you out for breakfast. And then maybe kayaking on the Potomac." He looked her up and down, taking a particularly long moment to study her face. "That is...if you're up for it?"
She blushed, all too aware of how she looked. "I would love that Raoul. But I, uh, actually just woke up and haven't showered or anything…"
"That's okay!" he quickly responded. Christine grimaced, something Raoul did not miss. "Would it be better if I came back later?"
"Give her twenty minutes!" Meg cried, popping out from around Christine's shoulder. "I can make you some coffee while she gets ready."
Christine shot Meg a half-exasperated, half-amused look. Meg had gotten ready in record time. She looked fresh and bouncy, her hair up in a clean ponytail, wearing a sundress. Christine scowled at her playfully. Meg merely smiled in return.
Raoul chanced a look at Meg. He smiled. "Thank you. Coffee sounds wonderful." He turned to Christine next. "Christine?"
She smiled softly. "I'll warn you, it might be closer to thirty," she warned.
His grin broadened. "I've got all the time in the world."
Breakfast had been a challenging but important meal. Christine was grateful to Raoul for speaking softly, as well as avoiding teasing of any kind until after her third cup of coffee. Eggs had been difficult, but Raoul insisted she take in some kind of protein. It led to them splitting a giant stack of blueberry pancakes and a plate full of bacon, most of which was also covered in syrup. She had licked the sticky substance from her fingers with a blush, aware that Raoul was watching her.
She felt much better by the time they got out on the water. During their years together as children, Christine could remember that Raoul practically lived on the water. He mentioned that he had done crew in college, and had even considered becoming a professional.
"My coach really wanted me to train for the Olympics," he explained, slowing down as they got further down the river. "I was actively considering it."
"So why didn't you do it?" Christine asked, taking a sip from one of the water bottles they had purchased beforehand.
Raoul shrugged. "Guilt, I guess. My parents spent all this money on college that I would essentially be throwing away by pursuing a chance to qualify. I wouldn't be able to go to law school, or get a normal job. I would have to breathe, eat, and sleep rowing." He squinted out across the river. "I don't regret it, per se, but I sure do miss it."
"Is it too late now? Could you still give it a shot?"
He grinned self-effacingly. "It's pretty much too late. Most of the athletes are younger than I am. I'd have to drop out of law school. It would be more hassle than it's worth."
"But do you want to be a lawyer?" she prodded. "I don't really see you doing that." She reddened, realizing belatedly that her words were insulting. She opened her mouth to apologize, but he waved her off.
"It's OK. Thankfully they don't mandate you practice law once you graduate law school. I figure I'll graduate, take the bar. That way I'll have the option."
Christine leaned back, stretching out her legs a little. The late summer sun felt wonderful, and the breeze off the river was the perfect relief from the heat. "What kind of law do you think you'll practice? If you stick with it?"
He leaned towards her, setting the oars down. "I've been really interested in Veteran Affairs lately. Maybe I'll join an NGO defending their rights, or get a job with the VA."
Christine smiled. "Raoul, that's great. Wasn't your grandpa a vet?"
He nodded. "Yeah. He always talked about it when I was young, which is surprising. A lot of vets don't speak about their service. It made me want to hear more, so I volunteered with some veterans groups in high school and college. It made me happy."
She smiled at him in return. "You're a really good person. Your parents must be proud."
He shook off the compliment, embarrassed. "And what about you, Miss Daae? What are your hopes and dreams?"
Her smile softened. "I was starting to lose hope for a while," she started, sitting back up and brushing down her shorts. "But I think I'm going to pursue the stage. New York, maybe. Or international stages…" She broke off, her tone turning dreamy.
"You could do it," he said sincerely, getting a little closer. "When you sing, it's like magic."
She looked at him, amused. "Do you even really remember what I sound like, Raoul?"
His expression remained serious. "I do."
His gaze shifted between her eyes and her mouth, and Christine didn't hesitate. When they leaned towards one another, and he pressed his lips to hers, she felt the full warmth of the day radiating on her.
Christine fidgeted nervously all throughout Sunday morning services. Meg (who was attending to placate her mother), decided to accompany her, which ultimately became needed. Every ten minutes or so, Meg's hand would dart out and brace Christine's bouncing knee. Christine would shoot her an apologetic grin and stop before the process happened all over again.
She usually enjoyed the service, especially the sermon, but when they left the tiny campus chapel, Christine couldn't remember what the pastor had talked about. Her thoughts alternated between the audition, the kiss with Raoul, and her evening lesson with her tutor. With Erik.
"You're overthinking things," Meg said helpfully, taking the sunglasses that sat on top of her head and placing them on the bridge of her nose.
Christine looked at her in confusion.
Meg shook her head at her. "It's super obvious, Christine. Just shut your brain off. You're going to give yourself a migraine."
Christine groaned. "I know! It's just that so much is happening at once. Everything is different this year."
Meg looked at her pointedly. "Yeah, and is any of it bad?"
Christine opened her mouth, and when she did, Meg held up a finger. "Yet?" she added.
Christine pressed her lips together before answering. "No."
Meg smiled knowingly. "Then don't stress! Exciting things are on the horizon! I know you've had to deal with a lot of bad crap, Christine Daae, so don't you think the universe is bound to even things out a bit?"
Christine stopped short and looked at her friend in disbelief. "You know," she said, "I think that's the smartest thing you've ever said."
Meg shrugged. She reached out and pulled Christine to her, linking their arms. "Yeah, I know. I'm going to start an inspirational blog on Instagram."
The rest of the afternoon was spent catching up reading and homework. Her workload had only grown from the year before, and with the addition of her evening tutoring sessions with Erik, scheduling time for studying was going to become more complicated. By the time 7:30 rolled around, she was so pressed for time that she practically ran out of the dorm to get to there on time.
When she entered the music building, she finally paused, mentally preparing herself for what would come next.
The difficult thing was that Christine didn't know what was about to happen. Erik was so unpredictable. Would he disappear again, tutoring her as a disembodied voice, or would he face her in person?
Would he take the mask off?
She steeled herself, doing her best to let her errant, distracting thoughts disintegrate. The only way to find out what would happen in this lesson was by opening the door.
She just hoped Erik kept his word and showed up this time.
Christine breathed a sigh of relief as soon as she opened the door. He was there, sitting at a keyboard with his back to her. He barely acknowledged her as she entered, except for the slightest turning of his head. She closed the door behind her, wincing a little when she shut it harder than she intended to.
"Hello," she said meekly. "I wasn't sure if you'd be in the room or not." She winced, cursing the slip. She hadn't meant to say that right off the bat. Or, at all, really.
His back tensed. "Would you prefer I was not in your proximity, Miss Daae?" His voice was harsh sounding, defensive. She clenched her teeth.
"No," she answered hurriedly. "I mean, no, I don't mind you being in my...in here. With me. In fact, I prefer it." She shut her eyes, mortified by how moronic she sounded. When she opened them again, his shoulders had lowered from around his ears.
She shuffled on her feet for a moment. Eying him from the corner of her eye, she set her bag down and moved the music stand to the center of the room. It gave her something to do with her arms, which were beginning to feel heavy and useless. Erik stared ahead, not making a move to look at her or turn around.
"Here." He held out a piece of paper to her, his arm stretching out behind him while his body continued to face forward.
Christine frowned, but approached, taking it gingerly from his hand. "What's this?"
"One of the songs you'll be expected to know when you're rehearsing for the opera."
She looked at the music more closely and started to shake her head. "But this is one of the lead's songs. I don't expect-"
"Regardless of the casting decisions, it is imperative that you can sing this. In the event that you'll need to demonstrate that you know it and can, in fact, sing it." He looked at her quickly before looking away again.
Christine pressed her lips, tempted to argue with him, but thought it best at this stage to let him have his way. "Very well. Teacher knows best."
He looked around towards her, his gaze lingering longer than it had thus far, and gave what Christine imagined was a shadow of a smile. "Indeed," he answered enigmatically. He cleared his throat. "Scales first, then."
They ran through warmups, and worked on the song for a time. She had felt hesitant to sing it at first, but after Erik's insistence and good direction, she thought she could actually sing it outside of their private sessions. Not that she would, and she knew that. But perhaps, one day, she'd have the chance to sing this music, to perform as the lead. Maybe.
They wrapped up the lesson cleanly. Erik folded his papers efficiently into his leather portfolio and broke down the keyboard stand while Christine watched idly, one of her hands clasping her other arm.
Erik paused, sensing her hesitation to leave, and looked up at her briefly from under a curtain of dark hair that had fallen over his forehead. "Is there something else, Christine?"
She felt a spark of reassurance that he had chosen to use her first name after his formality in the beginning of the lesson. She cleared his throat, focusing. "I...yeah, actually." The dangling hand matched its twin and grabbed her other arm. It felt easier to ask questions when she felt physically protected from his annoyance. "I was just wondering what it was that you were doing in Madame Giry's office that day."
"It is a private matter, and that is all I'll say about it." He continued packing up, a sign he considered the subject dropped.
"That's what Madame Giry said too." Christine frowned. "Does it have something to do with the fact that you don't show up on the school directory?"
He paused again. He straightened, and for the first time that night, Christine got a good luck at him. She was taken aback once again by his impressive stature. He seemed to absorb all the energy in a room. She didn't know if that was a good or a bad thing yet.
The corners of his lips pulled down. "Madame Giry would advise you not to look into things too closely."
Christine inclined her head. "She already did."
He copied her. "But you don't seem to want to take her advice. Why is that?"
Christine shrugged. "I'm an adult. And as much as I respect her, and as close as we are, she's not my mother."
He nodded. "Both your parents are deceased," he said matter of factly.
She blinked. "You know about that?"
He shuffled a little, appearing slightly uncomfortable for the first time. "I may have looked into...things...as well."
She could be indignant about that, but that would be hypocritical of her. Had she savvier means, other than badgering Madame Giry or using the university website and a couple of useless Google searches, she would have learned more about him. At the moment, all she knew was that Erik knew Madame Giry, he knew her, and that none of the Eriks that were listed on the university website matched the person in front of her.
A last name would probably do wonders for her internet search, but she doubted he'd tell her what it was.
"So that's it, then? You know my full name, so you're able to find out personal information about me, but I'm left in the dark about you? It doesn't establish very much trust, Erik. If that's your real name."
He scoffed. "Oh, it is," he replied, almost darkly. He paused, staring at her for a moment. "Very well. I'll say this much, Christine, and no more, because it is all I can offer. I do not teach at this university, nor am I a student. I am not on the staff. What I am involved in, however, is security for Cartier. Madame Giry knows about it, but I do not think her offspring does, so I would keep matters between the two of us to yourself."
"My friends are aware I'm taking voice lessons," she stated, "But I won't tell them anything about you or what you do. I promise."
He nodded slowly at her. "Thank you." He continued looking at her, and she felt slightly uneasy under his gaze. It was as if he were looking to peel some truth from her, but she couldn't imagine what.
She cleared her throat unsteadily. "Well, I guess I'd better go." She turned to the door, her bag over her shoulder, but before she reached it, he started speaking again.
"Do you normally attend coed gatherings with alcohol and tobacco products?"
Christine pursed her lips. She didn't like the judgment in his voice.
She turned back to him. "As a matter of fact, no." Her tone was forbidding, and while that was unlike her, she felt miffed by his line of questioning. Who was he to judge her for what she did outside of their lessons? Besides, she's a college student! It was a completely normal thing, going to parties and drinking alcohol. If nothing else, abstaining was abnormal.
"Then Friday night was a special occasion?" He crossed his arms, the epitome of nonchalance.
"Yes, it was." She paused. "Can you fault me for it, Erik?"
"I would just have you be careful, that is all," he replied, his tone obliging. "Children are often irresponsible in those situations, and it would be unfortunate if you were to suffer because of some coed's idiocy."
His stiff language caused the corner of her mouth to twitch. He spoke so formally, as if he were some character from a period film. She found that she liked it. Even when he was lecturing her.
"I'm no child. And I'm careful," she assured him.
He tilted his head at her. "You don't like being challenged, do you?" His tone was more curious than accusatory. He seemed to genuinely want to know.
She lifted an eyebrow. "No more than you," she shot back, but there was no venom on her tongue. She allowed herself to smirk at him.
He put his fingers to his hairline, pretending to lift a hat to her. "Touché, mademoiselle."
Her lips softened from a smirk to a real smile. She shook her head a little. "Anyway, I better get going. I have some more reading to do before tomorrow." She gave him a nod, feeling it important she acknowledge this new part of their journey. "Thanks again, Erik."
"Goodnight, Christine," he said softly behind her as she departed.
A/N Part II: OK so hopefully I'm really, actually back. Things kind of spiraled during the spring and I wasn't able to get back on track. I've had a lot of this written for months. Then I did Nanowrimo (not very successfully) but that also slowed things down. ANYWAYS, how are you all?
As always, feel free to leave comments and questions here or at my tumblr. Thanks for those who've stuck around! You guys are the best!