When Christine opened the door to her dorm, she found Meg lying in bed on her laptop. The sound of the door had sparked her attention. "Christine!" she exclaimed as she got up and approached her. "There you are! I've been trying to call you all night and morning!" She then noticed the distressed look on Christine's face. "Christine, are you okay?" Without a response, Christine walked passed her, setting her stuff down before lying down on her bed. "Christine what's wrong? What happened last night?"
"I don't want to talk about it," she replied groggily.
"Did something happen with you and your friend? Oh my god, he didn't hurt you, did he?"
"No, it's fine," she answered in an attempt to stop Meg's nagging. "I just really don't want to talk about it." Meg remained concerned for Christine the rest of the day as she spent the remainder of the day lying in bed barely moving.
A few days had past since the gala. Mr. Firmin was sitting in his office looking through paperwork when Mr. André burst in the room hoping a letter. "Firmin, did you see this?" he asked frantically waving the paper.
He looked up. "Of course not. How could I have seen it if you just opened it?" André made his way to the other side of the desk and stood beside him, handing him the letter so he could read it. "'My dear deans of Populaire Conservatory, I am writing on behalf of Christine Daaé. As her performance in the gala has proven, despite not being a voice major she has clearly proven herself as more than capable to carry a leading role. Carlotta has had more than enough chances to shine as the lead, so now it's Christine's turn. In the new production of Il Muto, you will therefore put Christine in the role of Countess, a role that calls for charm and appeal, things that Carlotta drastically lacks and no amount of vocal talent can make up for. Should this command be ignored, a disaster beyond your imagination will occur. P.S. Christine does not know about this. She is too pure and innocent to demand anything of you gentlemen, which is why I do it for her.'"
"You don't think Christine actually wrote this, do you?" André asked.
"I don't think so. She doesn't seem like the type who would do something like this. But I think I know who might have sent it." Firmin picked up the phone and started dialing, putting it on speaker.
"Hello?" a male voice answered.
"Hello Mr. de Chagny," Firmin answered. "This is Mr. Firmin from Populaire Conservatory. Mr. André and I have just received your letter about Christine Daaé."
"What letter?" Raoul asked genuinely confused.
"The one demanding that Christine be given the lead in the upcoming opera."
"I never sent you any letter, especially one demanding nepotism."
"Really? But if you didn't send it then who did?"
"I don't know, but it wasn't me. As much as I care for Christine I still believe in fairness."
"Okay, well, thanks. Sorry to bother you." Firmin hung up the phone. "Well that was awkward."
"What made you think that he was the one behind this?"
"After talking to Mr. and Mrs. de Chagny, it turns out that Raoul and Christine have a little history together."
"Where is he?" a shrill voice demanded. Standing angrily in the entrance holding another letter was Carlotta.
"Ah, welcome back," André greeted.
"Where's who?" Firmin asked.
"You know damn well who; your precious little patron."
"We actually just hung up on the phone with him. Why?"
"Because when I opened my locker I found this letter from him!"
The deans looked at each other, knowing it had to be from the same anonymous sender. "Let me see it." Carlotta slammed the letter on the desk, folding her arms and pouting as Firmin read. "'Your days at the conservatory are numbered. From now on Christine Daaé will be singing on your behalf. Be prepared for a great misfortune should you attempt to take her place.'"
"I know you two idiots are new around here, so let me make this clear. If I don't get the lead in this semester's, or any other upcoming operas, then you two don't get paychecks!"
"Why does everyone keep coming to us about casting?" Firmin asked frustratingly. "We have nothing to do with that!"
"How would you not getting the part affect our paychecks?" André asked.
"Because either I get the part, or I get every penny that is given to keeping this school afloat."
"How does that even work?" Firmin exclaimed.
"My family is very wealthy and my dad is a lawyer. Back before Lefevre left, we made him sign a contract that as long as I'm attending this school I get every leading role regardless of who's in charge. I had a feeling I would need this," she said as she dug into her Gucci bag and pulled out a folded piece of paper.
The two men unfolded and looked closely at the paper in front of them. "Well I'll be damned," Firmin spoke in awe, looking at the photocopied contract before him.
Carlotta ripped the paper out of his hands and stuffed it back into her bag. "I expect the cast list up by Monday," she said with a smirk before sauntering out of the room.
The remainder of the semester passed rather uneventfully. This was the longest amount of time Christine had ever gone without talking to Erik for as long as she'd known him, although after what happened she didn't really want anything to do with him. Despite her feelings, she still kept her promise and contacted him as soon as she saw the cast list. "I got Serafimo, the silent role," she texted. "You could probably guess who got the Countess." All she got in response was a simple "Thanks," but other than that, they never spoke a word to each other again.
However, there was one aspect of her life that made the rest of the semester more bearable. Without having to worry about Erik anymore, and now that he was on campus more often, Christine and Raoul began to renew their friendship. When she wasn't in rehearsal, doing homework, or hanging out with Meg, she would spend most of her time going out on dates with Raoul. In the course of about three months, their dates started out simple like going out to eat at casual places and going to the movies to elaborate dates like fancy dinners and the theater to something smaller like picnics in the park or just laying in bed watching tv on her laptop. Despite how close they had become again, there was no talk of love. The farthest they ever went physically was holding hands and hugging, no kissing.