Disenchanted

A sad chapter for a sad day.

'It was a lie when they smiled and said,

"You won't feel a thing."'

She was silent they whole car ride over to the mystery destination. Her eyes focused on the road ahead, not even flinching when her teacher rested his warm palm on her thigh. The air conditioning created a cold circulation of air, permeating the frosty November air; a rare evening in California where it was chilly and not blazing hot. Erik had not the slightest of clues as to where his curly haired mistress was driving to, he didn't even know the route. It was surrounded by trees, far away from the main campus. Christine drove in the complete opposite direction of her apartment, but Erik asked no questions, just like Christine asked none to him.

"We're here." She finally inferred, unbuckling her seat belt. She took a deep breath, looking outside her window. It was dark and leafy, unfamiliar to the thirty four year old teacher. "I have a sweatshirt that will fit you in my trunk. It's cold out there, Erik." She turned to face the teacher, a tender smile appearing on her pale face.

"Thank you, kitten." Christine got out of her black Jeep, immediately feeling a surge of the frigidity to her bones. Opening the trunk of her car, she grabbed the thick North Face sweatshirt and handed it to Erik, grabbing the black pea coat for herself. Wrapping her tiny five foot three body in her pea coat, she grabbed his colossal hand in her tiny one, they began walking through what seemed like a forest; through Erik's eyes it was as if Narnia was coming alive beneath his feet.

"I'm sorry about Bailey, you deserve much better." The curly headed girl spoke out with a chattering in her teeth as they trucked through the forest. Erik snaked his arm around the dancer's waist, pulling her closely to his body. "I'm not much better than she is, but I know for a fact that you're not going to get me pregnant." Erik cringed awfully at the thought of Christine getting pregnant.

"Christine, please... Don't talk about Bailey right now. It's very uncomfortable for me." Christine nodded. "Where are you taking me, anyway?" Christine pulled out her phone, halting in her tracks. "Kitten?" She fiddled with her phone, trying to press the screen with her frozen fingers. Finally, the flash light came on and the illuminated scene impaled Erik so deeply that he stumbled backwards onto Christine's miniature figure.

"This is my home, this is where I grew up until I was about... twelve. It's where I lived until my dad died and my step mom took me in, housed me. She wasn't much of a mother, but at least she had a house. This... This piece of shit can't even be passed as an outhouse." Christine trembled nervously, laughing airily as she tried to mask her apparent pain. "I immersed myself in books and learning, never math though. I never got the hang of math, other than that though... That's how I distracted myself from my step mom, indecent way of living. I got into the university and the only contact I had with her now, is she pays my bills and sends me a birthday check every year. Other than that, she never talked me once. I raised myself while she, raised... her hormones." Erik was in shock, his body tensed beneath the North Face sweatshirt. He couldn't believe the words Christine she saying, the tiny shack that was displayed in front of him, and the girl that was standing beside him. Her past and present made his face, his infection, seem so insignificant.

"How did he die, Christine?" The girl shrugged her shoulders.

"I don't know."

"How do you not know how he died, Christine?" Erik was sounding like a parent, a condescending, authoritative parent. He hated the tone he had, he hated himself. Christine looked up at him with unbelievably wide eyes, trying to decipher his patronizing accusations.

"I don't fucking know, because it happened so fucking fast! It happened so fast! He was there and then he was there... I woke up and he wasn't breathing... I don't remember, okay?! Just get the fuck away from me!" Christine pushed the teacher away from her with great force as she trudged through the foliage, trying to make her way back to her Jeep.

"CHRISTINE!" Erik cried out, trying to follow the light of the flashlight. It was frigid and the cool air was causing him to squint. The petite ballerina was darting in and out between trees, the flashlight turning on off, Christine desperately attempting to lose the light. "CHRISTINE, COME BACK HERE!"

"Just leave me, Erik! You're just like all the rest of them!" She shouted back, her teeth freezing at the contact with the crisp air. The teacher, being much taller than his student, had finally caught up to her. Christine's nose was bright red, her cheeks a matching color. She was shivering and panting, too cold to cry over the unfortunate memories Erik had spawned onto her.

"Christine... I'm sorry..." Erik mumbled as his toes began to feel numb. He didn't care. "Please, let's just get back into the car where it's warm. I'll drive us back to your apartment and we can just have a nice dinner, okay? Would you like to do that, sweetheart?" Erik's usual masculine demeanor and deep voice had turned kind, gentle, and comforting. His frosted fingers caressed Christine's just as frosted cheeks, trying to console her.

"He did bad things to me, Erik," She began with her eyes averted to the ground. Slowly, her green irises met with Erik's mismatched pupils. In one glance, she held all the sadness in the world. "I don't know whether to be happy that he's dead or to be sad, because I wasn't the one that killed him."

"Next week is your first semester final! How exciting is that?" Apparently, it wasn't that exciting, according to all the groaning that was emitted from Erik's student's mouths in a harmonious tune. "Now, I have been arduously writing the Advanced English final, while also trying to work on perfecting my Music Theory final. I can proudly say that your English final, is much easier." Erik smiled widely, obnoxiously as he tried to gain a few laughs.

"Professor Lantier?" Ms. Cooper raised her hand up in excitement, her grin taking up the majority of her face.

"Ms. Quinn Cooper, how can I be of assistance?" Erik grabbed a tiny plush basketball off of his desk, throwing it slightly up in the air, catching it with ease. Christine blushed, involuntarily. Erik definitely noticed.

"Will you be available for after class tutoring to prepare for the final?" Erik's posture stiffened almost simultaneously with Christine's. Squeezing the ball in his left hand tightly, he took a deep breath.

"I have provided you guys with another study guide that should be sufficient for your studying needs. It will be available to pick up on your way out today, at your own discretion. May I remind you that your final is on all the material covered this semester and anything I have stated in class is fair game." Erik relaxed as Ms. Cooper frowned. "Did I miss anything?"

"Yeah, uh, hey, Mr. Lantern!" Raoul de Chagny scratched his neck awkwardly as he glanced at Ms. Cooper, who still was frowning. .'

"Lantier, my last name is Lantier." Erik corrected him. "Say it with me class, 'Lan-Tee-Aye.' It's French, get cultured." de Chagny shrugged. "What can I help you with, buddy?"

"Are you curving this final?" He was so hopeful.

"Not a chance." Now, there were two frowning blondes. "You put in the time and there will be no crime." Erik's phone alarm went off and soon, the classroom was empty. To his dismay, Christine had history class and needed to get to class. They were going to meet for dinner, anyway. Erik bent down to retrieve some uncorrected essays in his draw, only to look up and be met with Ms. Cooper's beaming brown eyes. "Ms. Cooper, you're back, hello." Erik smiled politely as he placed a stack of papers on his desk.

"Hiya, Professor Lan-Tee-Aye." Erik let out a soft laugh as she pressed her books to her chest. She was about five foot five, she had a lot of freckles. "I always thought it was pronounced, 'Lan-Tear,' like a tier of a cake." Erik tilted his head. "I'm majoring in culinary arts." With an understanding nod of his head, Ms. Cooper took a seat on the desk in front of him. "Anyway... Back to my question about after schooling tutoring, Professor Lantier... I really would benefit with just a session or two, with your help. I'd be willing to pay you for your tutoring, Professor Lantier."

Erik couldn't help, but feel his heart swell at the innocent sound of her voice. Truly. the last time he took the time to sit down and work with her on her essay writing, she improved greatly. He noticed that she had trouble formulating proper sentences, probably the resulting of someone speaking improperly at home. Erik was cautious though, because of Christine, of course. Christine had told Erik that Ms. Quinn Cooper had a reputation of being flirty with her professors, the batting of her lashes becoming a signature look for Ms. Cooper. Erik certainly wanted to heed Christine's warning.

"Although your offering to pay me is most generous Ms. Cooper, I wouldn't be able to accept any sort of cash or check payment. I'd be happy to meet with you this week for an hour or two to brush up on your essay writing, if you want. It benefited you greatly during the midterm, so I'm sure it'll help increasingly well with the final. I am quite busy this week, because of my music theory class, but if you are certain about this tutoring session, I will make time for you." Ms. Cooper grinned from ear to ear. Erik hadn't noticed how close she had gotten to his body. They were now standing inches apart from one another.

"Erik." She spoke through her gloss covered lips.

"H-How do you know my f-first name?" Erik froze beneath his vest and white silk tie. "I don't t-think I've ever s-said in class b-before..." Erik tried to think back on any time that Christine might have slipped up and called him by his first name, but no specific event was coming to mind. He never relayed his personal information to his class, besides the fact that they should never ask about his mask or touch it.

Erik gulped down the remaining of his Venti drink. He hated Starbucks, but he was desperate for caffeine. Bailey had left for work already, something about an audition and that there was an emergency hair dyeing that need to be done. Erik wasn't nervous to start a new semester, no. He was nervous to get the wide-eyed stares and to hear the mouse-like whispers surrounding him. Usually by the upperclassmen college level, the students had matured out of pointing and laughing, but staring and whispering was always a crowd favorite. Erik always felt like some circus freak on display on the first day of school. As the wave of new students rushed in, he always started class with his back to the class, writing against the white board, his name in calligraphic handwriting - a talent he always possessed. Soon the bell of his phone would ring and he would take a deep breath, repeating a quiet prayer in French to himself. Turning around, he would brace himself always hope for the best, but expect the worst

'Hello class, my name is Professor Lantier.' Erik smiled gently as he waved timidly to the sea of dilated eyes. 'I am the Advanced English Language professor. You may be a bit confused by the class title. This is not a class in which I teach you about the English language, this is a class in which I teach you how to use the English language.' Erik received more blank stares. 'I hope that I can all help you excel to the goals you set for yourselves. I will only assist you as far as you dare to go. As this is an elective course, each and every one of you chose to be here. I will have an in-class essay exam every two weeks that tests your quality and a standard multiple choice test that is in concordance with whichever book we are assessing, to test your quantity. If you are confused by what I am telling you, allow me to elaborate.' The students shifted in their desks, taking out their laptops and notebooks. Erik noticed a particularly beautiful girl in the back row. She looked terribly young to be in his class. He made a note to check the roll sheet later.

'A quality essay exam will test how well you can write, how you structure a story/essay, and if you can summarize all of your thoughts into however many paragraphs I allow you to write. Now, a quality exam test will be graded more harshly than a quantity standard exam. A quantity standard exam is your regular, run of the mill, multiple choice or fill in the black test. I will never and I mean it, never put a short answer question on a standard exam. I find it repetitious and mundane. My friends, my friends, learn this now... This class will be anything, but repetitious and mundane.' Erik smiled again, trying to look as friendly as possible. He earned some laughs, which meant his students were becoming more casual and comfortable. Suddenly, a hand shot in the air. 'Yes, ma'am?'

'Um...' She began with squinted hazel eyes. She looked as though she was staring at something behind Erik. 'I... I was just wondering... What's on your face?' Erik's face paled, his heart sinking to his stomach. Up until then, he thought he was doing pretty well. He sighed to himself, cursing in nine different languages. He noticed that his dress shoes needed to be polished. As he raised his head to meet the hazel eyes who looked guilty more than ever now, he gave an amiable smile.

'It's a mask, my dear.' Erik tapped it lightly with his finger. 'It's made of porcelain. It's very fancy, I have to have them specially made for me.' The students nodded along with the teacher's story, the young girl in the back row looking especially intrigued. 'I was born with a birth defect, nothing too major. Unfortunately, I was in an accident almost six years ago. It made my condition worse and I have now been forced to wear a mask everywhere I go. I hope you all don't mind.' Erik was sincere. He really hoped that they didn't mind.

'Why do you have to wear a mask? What's underneath it that is so bad?' The girl tilted her head. Suddenly, Erik thought of something brilliant, something novel. He straightened his posture and scanned the room.

'Have any of you read any Gaston Leroux?' Every single student shook their head. Erik huffed in disappointment. 'Okay, well have any of you seen the Joel Schumacher film adaption of, 'The Phantom of The Opera?' It's a musical about a virtuoso, musical genius really, who lives in the cellars of the Paris opera house in the 1800s. I don't want to give a lot of the plot away, but he is disfigured from birth and shunned from society, hence the lair underneath the opera house. He creates masks to wear to hide his deformity and thus takes on the role of the Opera Ghost.' Erik earned a few skeptical glares, mostly confusion. The curly haired girl in the back row was amused, intrigued by her professor's story. 'I have taken the role of Professor Lantier, your English teacher for the next nine months. I am simply a man, a teacher - your teacher.'

Christine cuddled against the couch, scooping her cat onto her lap. She was waiting for Erik to finish making his tea.

"I must say, your English final is going to be a piece of cake." Christine mused from underneath her giant blanket. Erik scoffed at her pride.

"Why do you say that? I think it's going to be rather difficult, if you ask me." Erik stirred some honey into his tea, looking at the bundled sight.

"Well, I didn't ask you, did I?" Erik went up to touch his mask, but it wasn't there. He had forgotten that Christine removed it when he arrived in her apartment. She wanted to look at it more, apply some TLC to his irritated skin. "Erik, I'm sorry about two days ago in the forest. I didn't mean to yell at you." The room fell silent. Erik breathed out all the air he was holding in his lungs, walking over to the couch with his tea.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, kitten. You showed me something that was very difficult for you and I was a jerk about it. I should be the one apologizing to you." Christine placed a kiss on his knuckles, leaning back into the couch. "That house barely had a bedroom, Christine. How did you stay there for that long?" Christine paused, shrugging her shoulders.

"I was chained." Erik froze in his seat, the seething liquid protruding the caverns of his throat. He couldn't seem to keep the tea down as he ran into the bathroom, regurgitating it up like a dog. When the unmasked man returned, she was sobbing, hyperventilating into the blanket. She was mumbling something, but he couldn't understand her. He didn't want to understand her. With one swift movement, he had her in his arms, rocking her back and forth. Erik wanted to weep with her, but he knew that one of them had to remain calm, as calm as calm could be. "I-I wake u-up with n-nightmares a-all t-the time..."

"Shhh, Christine, don't talk about it anymore. I'm here, just rest... I'm here, sweetheart." Erik cooed as she curled into his body, her legs drawn to her chest like a child. She was shaking.

"He a-always told m-me, 'You won't feel a thing, you won't feel a thing,' and he was r-right..." Erik suddenly stopped rocking, bringing her chin up to meet her red eyes, stained with tears and an unbearable sadness.

"What do you mean, Christine?" Erik's voice was terse, his eyes piercing hers. "What do you mean you didn't feel a thing?" Christine drew back a deep breath.

"I was drugged most of the time when he did things, it was only until I woke up that I would feel the pain of whatever he did to me." She had stopped crying, her voice coarse and unrefined. "I don't remember much, honestly... I just remember always being scared of him, always wanting to hide." Erik shut his eyes, trying to block out the horrific images in his head. The problems he was having with Bailey were insignificant to what Christine has to go through each night. He thanked God that Christine was still alive. With a kiss to her forehead, he brought her body to his and hugged her tightly, encapsulating her tiny figure into his.

"Christine, no one will ever harm you ever again, sweetheart. I'm going to protect you, I'm going to guard you with my life." Erik's expression had changed to deathly serious, grave. His tone was deep and his eyes were like heat in Christine's skin. Christine didn't mind one bit.

"Do you promise that, teacher?" Her voice was quiet, frightened. Erik smiled sweetly, bringing her fingers to his lips. Placing a gentle kiss to her palm, he said a prayer in French, something they both understood.

"Always, kitten." He was pleading, begging for her to understand, but her eyes said something different. They were threatened, yet adored at the same time. She loved the man that coddled her, that gave her the world, yet she knew that he would be gone soon - she couldn't get attached, no.

She was trained and conditioned to not feel a thing.

A/N: wow! I am very sorry for such a late update. I packed for four hours last night and then got my lazy ass up this morning at 6am! My aunt and I drove for seven hours from California to Phoenix. tomorrow, we have an eight hour drive I believe. I am going to try to update as much as possible on this trip. I am sorry if they come in later than usual or if the chapters are a bit short. Wi-fi is precious and I don't always have it.

Anyway, enjoy this sad chapter. I am very sad, because I had to say goodbye to many of my best friends. I hate goodbyes and since I don't know if my family is moving to Florida or not, I may not see them for a very long time! ): I miss my dog the most though. I started crying when I said goodbye to him last night. His name is Carl and he's my little taquito.

ok, well, I must go and update my other current Phanfic: DIAL TONES
before my wifi runs out, so toodooloo and I hope you read & hopefully review!

I love you all!

ROLL TIDE.