The future seemed so... present. Enjolras couldn't even focus anymore, all he could do was absentmindedly flip through his Princeton Student Handbook. He was suppose to be working on an essay for North Korea and that would usually interest him. But, this time it didn't.

Enjolras just couldn't focus on anything, he was nervous. Everything about the future scared him. He was suppose to be one of the lucky ones with early admission to one of the best schools in the country. But, what about after that?

He didn't have a passion, there wasn't a dream job. Enjolras always just studied and did well in all his classes. No subject ever interested him that much, or at least not like how Eponine loved math. There was nothing that would be able to interest him.

Since Enjolras was only taking six classes, he had two study halls as of that year, and seniors had the special right to go wherever they wanted. He, of course, had chosen to spend his time reading in the library. Surprisingly, he didn't have much homework. Deciding to get an early start on an English assignment, Enjolras begrudgingly put away his Voltaire.

He liked to read, was there a career in that? He could be a librarian.

Very quickly, he eliminated that job choice and took a seat.

"Hello, Meg," Enjolras said quickly and blankly. He hadn't thought of Meg Giry since that party weeks ago where she had gotten completely wasted.

"Oh, hi," she responded, just as vaguely staring at an email from someone. Quickly and eagerly, she typed a response, but Enjolras wasn't interested or rude enough to look over her shoulder and read it.

"I haven't seen you in a while," he commented, letting himself get distracted again.

"I got grounded right after the party..." she trailed off sheepishly, a little embarrassed to admit it.

"That sucks."

They talked a little bit longer, neither of them really had that much work to do anyway. Enjolras remembered liking Meg Giry and wished she was a senior so he could see her more. She almost reminded him of Eponine, same dry sense of humor.

Without anyone else around, Enjolras continued to spend his sixth period study hall with Meg and they quickly became good friends.

Besides making a new friend, Meg's entire life was looking in general. Her steep, one month grounding was nearly up and she had received the most exciting email of her life, an official registration to audition for the Tisch School of Dance. Of course, that was where Mrs. Giry and just about every other great dancer went.

As much as she had sacrificed for dancing, she never imagined herself as a real, true dancer. Not even when she broke her toe from dancing pointe too much. Meg ever imagine a career in ballet. Maybe she could open up her own little private studio after college. That would be fun. Studying it was what she really wanted, she just wanted to be the perfect dancer. Not only would Meg satisfy herself, but also her mother.

Mrs. Giry was as strict as ever with her daughter. She was only extra protective and careful now. Dancing every day was the perfect excuse to keep Meg inside. She was dancing as much as Christine was singing, which meant both girls were doing an exhausting amount of work.

She had missed Christine, they hadn't seen each other outside of school in a long time. That Friday, instead of going to a party, they decided it would be better to go to Meg's house and watch a movie. Meg was her normal, chatty and loud self while Christine laughed along with her.

"So, seriously, Tisch? That's awesome," she mused, imagining her best friend dancing at one of the best schools in the country. "Maybe you'll be, like, a Rockette someday! That would be so funny!"

Meg laughed at her best friend's enthusiasm. "Well, if I get in. I'm only a junior, anyway. Shouldn't you be the one looking at colleges?"

"I'm looking, I'm looking. I just haven't decided yet. I've heard University of New Hampshire has a good education department. I was thinking about being an English teacher or something."

"English?"

"It's my favorite subject."

"You know how many books you'll have to read to be an English teacher?" Meg asked her with a sigh, Christine weakly shook her head. "Remember when you, me and our moms all went to New York City?"

She nodded her head. How could she forget? It was the best night of her life.

"And you saved up all of your birthday and Christmas money to get us tickets to "Rigoletto" at the Metropolitan Opera? You paid for all four tickets yourself."

"Of course, Meg! It was amazing!" She thought back to that chilly, December night. Her father had loved all of Verdi's work, she only wished he could have been there, too.

"And every time that German girl sang, you had this cute little grin and I could tell you just loved her. You smiled through the whole thing and afterwords, I convinced our moms to get last minute, standing room only seats to "A Chorus Line on Broadway." Both girls reminisced with Meg's words. She did love the dancing in that.

"Yes, I remember, but what's the point of that?"

"Well, I loved A Chorus Line, so I'm going to try become a dancer because that's what I love. You loved Rigoletto, so why don't you want to become a singer?"

Christine sighed. "Oh, Meg, I just don't know yet. I love to sing."

"You're so good, too! I'm not going to lie, I honestly think you've become as good as the woman we saw that night. Could you imagine how good you'd be if you went to a conservatory?"

"Meg, stop..."

"I'm completely serious, Christine, you're amazing."

She stopped to listen to her friend's words. There was no way she could be right. Christine would never be as good as a famous, professional singer. But she did love to sing.

"Meg?" Her voice grew quiet. Meg looked over, slightly concerned over her friend's tone.

"What?"

"Oh, gosh..."

"What?" Meg asked again. "What's wrong?"

Christine took in a deep breath and the movie was paused, Meg was absolutely silent and the whole room seemed to wait in anticipation. "When I was little and my father was still alive, he used to tell me stories about a girl named Little Lotte, and she would be visited by the Angel of Music, it's an old Swedish tale. Ask Raoul, he should remember," Christine began with a dreamy look on her face and her eyes twinkling with her childhood memories. Meg could only look on, extremely curious to where this story would lead.

"He knew he was dying, my father, and he told me that I would always be protected by this angel, that my father was always with me through him. And I am protected, because he's always with me."

"Oh, that's sweet, Christine," Meg said, sort of dismissing her friend. "That really nice."

"Meg, the Angel of Music was the one who taught me how to sing. He's my teacher."

"You mean you actually talk to this... angel? He taught you how to sing? Are you alright? You look a little pale... You can't be serious," Meg questioned. Her thoughts were racing. How could a real angel, sent from a long dead man, be communicating with Christine?

"I'm completely serious."

"But.. have you ever seen him? What does he look like?"

"Well, he's very mysterious," Christine explained, and Meg almost wanted to laugh. This could not be real. "He wears a black cape and half of his face is covered by this mask, oh, and he wears a nice hat..."

"Does he fight the Joker too?" Meg asked her with dripping sarcasm. After seeing the hurt look on Christine's face, she immediately regretted speaking.

"Cut it out! I haven't told anyone about this yet, not even Raoul... I thought I could trust you, but I don't care if you make fun of me. The Angel of Music is real and he taught me how to sing and he was sent by my father!" she said, her face turning an unattractive red with anger. Meg had rarely seen Christine get mad. She was never one for showing a lot of emotion in the first place. Instantly, she felt bad.

"Hey, listen, I'm sorry. It's just... hard to believe, that's all. Tell me more about him." Meg said gently. Christine's face softened and eagerly explained this strange case.

This man- or angel, rather- lived in the depths of the church, their town's very own church. He was a tall and slim man, with a beautiful way of speaking and moving. Meg tried to picture him, but just couldn't. There was no way... how could this be real?

It wasn't, she decided. Meg was going to wait it out, maybe Christine was just feeling sick or was playing some elaborate prank. If she brought it again, Meg was going to get help. If this angel was never mentioned again, she could just ignore it.

Leaving Christine's, she spent the rest of the night choreographing her dance and finally stopped after about. Mrs. Giry was pleased with her daughter's improvement and perhaps things were starting to look up for Meg.

Well... it's been a while. Sorry, guys. I have actually been doing things, I'm working on a new fic that's just based on Phantom. Also, please don't bash the Meg/Enjolras thing, I just really like her as a character and there's plenty of E/E on the way!