Thought Of Everything And Nothing

Chapter 5

Christine

The sun crept through the windows and woke me from my slumber. As my eyelids lifted, they were met by the amber light that seeped through my white curtains. I shuddered, remembering that today was the first day of classes.

Teachers usually either hated me or loved me. There was never an in between. Meg was lucky, her mother was teaching ballet here and she personally knew all of the professors. She was always bubbly  enough that teachers always adored her. I could barely strike up anything more than small talk, which was fine, because I was only there to learn. But, I had always yearned to have a teacher whom with I could have a mentor-like bond with.

I crawled out of my bed, lazily stretching out beside my dresser.

"You ready?" Meg asked, "You look kind of pale." I shrugged, putting on the last of my makeup. "I'm a naturally pale person!"

That phrase was a little too true when it came to me. I had milky white skin, pink cheeks, light brown eyes, and wild curls. I was the plainest girl you can ever imagine. If you sat me next to Meg, all eyes would immediately blur me out.

"Come on, we're gonna be late for class!"

She grabbed my arm, and I only just managed to grab my bag before I was forced out the door. "Ow! You're hurting my wrist!" Meg rolled her eyes and pulled me to Le Fatômes Hall. "I hear that the Music teacher is vicious!My mom's his friend, so he'll probably just ignore me. And I'm lucky!"

I gulped, "I wonder what he'll do to me?"

Meg giggled, "He'll eat you for Breakfast! "

We laughed together and stepped into the classroom. We scrambled to our seats and looked up. Exactly 8:40. I gave Meg a relieved smile, which she returned.

Then, the teacher walked into the room. He was at least 6 foot and had sleek black hair that looked like each strand had been meticulously styled. He was lean and muscular and had bright gold eyes. But the strange things about him was the white half mask that covered the left side of his face.

"Good Morning. My name is Mr. Destler, and I teach music history and theory. If you are here for voice lessons, choral, or composition, you are in the wrong classroom." He waited for a moment, and sure enough, about twenty percent of the class filed out the door. He continued, "Those of you who signed up for this class for an easy A, leave now. I don't care if you leave now, but if you stay and waste my time, I will make this class hell for you."

Ten percent of the class disappeared. I felt slightly alarmed at the rate the class was shrinking.

Mr. Destler examined the remaining class, calling role, his golden gaze scanned through the list.

"Christine Daaé?"

"Here."

He focused his eyes on me,I looked down, feeling his eyes burning into my neck. I saw that my left hand was trembling slightly, so I covered it with my right. I felt his gaze lift, so I looked back up. He had sat down at the piano and played a chord.

"Can anyone tell me what chord I just played?"

This was easy, it was a diminished C flat. I raised my hand and looked around to see that nobody else had raised their hand. I should probably put my hand down, I'll put my hand down right n-

"Daaé."

Damn.

"Diminished C flat?"

He paused for a moment, and I braced myself for failure.

"Correct."

My head snapped up, and I looked at him. Without a change in his expressuon, he turned around, and continued asking questions.