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Chapter 11: Sushi at Seven

"Raoul…"

"Christine. Come on. For real. "

She whimpered, her phone in her hand. The contact information of Erik Lenoir was open on the screen, and all she had to do was show it to Raoul. They stood outside their apartment, by the door. He'd come out to meet her, having seen her walking toward the building on the sidewalk below. Raoul worked from home two days a week, and Monday just happened to be one of those days.

He looked incensed. Nostrils flared. Brown eyes ablaze.

"Raoul, please. Listen. You're…seriously overreacting. Like way overreacting."

"Christine, no. I'm really not. This guy has a lot of power. A lot of sway. He wants…something from you. I don't know what. Maybe it's sex. Maybe it's something else."

"I don't-"

"I've seen it at college, so have you - remember Amanda Gilmore? The senior when we were freshmen? Remember how she was all over social media? She was groomed by that professor that got fired, and she quit school, like, right after that. This stuff…I'm trained about this stuff for my job - watching out for predatory guys. Men in power like to take advantage of vulnerable girls. It's gross, and it happens. And this guy, Erik Lenoir, is not just some professor or ordinary boss. He's a celebrity. And sure, so was your dad, but he kept you out of the limelight because you insisted you wanted to make your own name on Broadway. He did a good job of keeping you pretty anonymous. So if it's your word against Erik Lenoir's, guess who people will believe?"

Christine's heart sank. "Can we please just go inside? I have a lot to think about. I don't even know…"

"If you're going to take the lessons? So you did tell him you needed time to process?"

"No." Her stomach dropped along with her heart. "No, like I told you, I said I'd do one lesson."

"Yes. One lesson. Alone in his apartment, right? One lesson, where you have to follow his directions and are at the mercy of his approval? Gross."

"It's not…Raoul, I don't think it's like that. I told you, he wants to be nice."

"Yeah, that story seems really weird, by the way. He wants to pay your dad back because he just thought his music was super groovy?"

"Groovy?"

"He could just as easily cut you a check and write a thank you card. 'Hey, I totally could have thanked your dad while he was alive, but I'm choosing to corner his orphaned daughter alone because I'm just tickled pink by all the gratitude flooding my blood'. Yeah. Okay."

"Can I please just go inside?" Christine wanted nothing more than to just crawl into bed and never make another decision again.

"Not until you give me his number."

"But why?"

"I want to talk to him."

"For what? What are you going to say?"

"I want to set up a meeting with him. I want to make it clear that there will be no fuckery involved, that he'd better just be a really eccentric and weird but harmless guy, and not the creeper he's coming across as. He walks around all quiet and wears a freaking mask, like a real life Jason Voorhees. The early life section of his wikipedia page is full of nothing but speculation, and he's blunt and rude during interviews. And now he wants you alone in his apartment. Excuse me for wanting to have a chat with him. Give me his number."

The conversation that Christine did not hear because she went to go take a shower in order to clean the embarrassment off of her and let the hot steam cloud her mind of how much she wanted to jump out the nearest window.

Erik: Hello?

Raoul: Is this Erik Lenoir?

Who is speaking?

Hey. Yeah. This is Christine's roommate.

Christine. Christine Daaé?

Yes, Christine Daaé. The girl you hired and then offered lessons to. And I say girl because that's what she is. She's twenty-two, 4 years removed from childhood, one year removed from the age you're allowed to drink. How old are you again?

…

Lost signal, Mr. Lenoir?

Yes. I am aware of which Christine you're speaking. You're her roommate?

I'm her roommate. And her best friend. And I'm in HR.

I don't have an HR department.

Maybe you should.

How can I help you, Christine's Roommate and Best Friend who is also part of an ambiguous company's HR?

My name is Raoul.

Excuse me. How can I help you, Raoul?

Look, I think it's really, really goddamn weird how quickly you offered my best friend a job working for you.

Do you?

Yeah. I do. And I think it's even weirder that you're asking her to be your student. And your only student, too.

How do you know she's my only student?

Is she?

Yes.

Can you be serious for a second?

As a heart attack.

What's your deal?

My deal?

Yes. I want to know your angle. Why are you trying to get close to Christine?

Raoul. If she does not wish to be my student, please let her know she does not have to be. I let her know that today. If she felt compelled to accept my offer, then I regret that.

No, Christine's not the one with the issue. I am.

And why are you the one with the issue?

Because someone has to look out for that girl. Someone has to make sure she's okay. Someone has to make sure she isn't scooped up by someone who can see how sad and lonely she is and preys on that!

…

Hello!

I'm not going to hurt her. I just want to teach her to sing.

Why?

I've explained it to her. Ask her.

No. I want to hear it from you. Or - actually, better yet. Let's meet. Actually meet, face to face. The three of us. Dinner. Let's go get some sushi and just lay it all out on the table. I want to look you in the eyes and see that you don't have creepy intentions. I don't care if you're a famous Broadway composer - Christine is like my sister. She trusts you. I don't.

Sushi.

Yes.

Fine.

Good. There's a place in Hell's Kitchen. It's called Fujiyama.

Tonight at seven?

Sounds great. We will get to know each other.

And you'll lay out your terms, I take it?

You certainly do take it.

I will see you both then.

Yeah. A real pleasure speaking with you.

A treat.

Bye.

Au revoir.