September 9th, 2017

"Alright Megan, I'll call you later!" I groan as Megan keeps me on the line.

"Love you! Make sure to talk to hot guys!" Her muffled voice says through the speaker.

I roll my eyes and hang up, putting my phone away before grabbing the last of my boxes.

I'm officially moving into my dorm. Saying goodbye to the memories of my suborbital life. Now I'll party every night and get fat on fast food.

What a dream.

But really, I'll be spending my days trying to make a better life for myself. I'll finally be able to avoid the panic of helping my mother, avoiding my father, and the annoyance of Megan at times.

Yes, she is my best friend. However, she's agigtating very often.

"Okay, just need to grab my keys out of my purse." I say to myself as I hold the last boxs in my hands.

Well bloody me. How am I ever going to get the keys when I have boxes in my hands!

"Shit!" I put the box down ever so slightly and take my purse off.

"You could've just asked me for them." A male, dark voice speaks up.

My eyes widen and I turn around quickly. There stood a pale, tall man. Sure, he's got muscles, but pretty tin. His black hair glistened in the artificial light and his skin, perfect.

"Who are you?" I stop fiddling with my purse and stand up straight.

He pulled keys out of his pocket. "Your roommate, Erik Destler? You didn't get the email?"

Roommate?! Ughhhh. I specially asked and paid extra for a solo room. I like my space and would rather spend time by myself.

Sighing, I shrug slightly. "I don't really check my emails too much. I'm Christine Daae."

"Nice to meet you. You need help?" He asked and stuck the key in the doors.

"Last of my boxes, but thanks though." I said as I lugged in the box.

He kept close behind me. "Surprised you're moving in so late. Classes start in two weeks."

"I've been busy, dealing with life." I mumble, holding on to the heavy box.

He looked down at me and sighed. "You really don't want help?"

"Just open the door." I groan

He nodded and turned the door handle, welcoming me once more to my college dorm room.Walking in, I smelt the aroma of the air. Ah! College life. Yes, dorm rooms have a smell. An aroma of freedom and independence. We'll, sort of.

"So what you studying? Dance?" He said as he looked me up and down.

I shake my head and place the box on couch. "Wrong. And please refrain from checking me out again."

"You have a dancers body. Just a guess." He smirked.

"Ew." I roll my eyes and heave the boxes to my room.

He chuckled and leaned against the room. "Just a tease, but I'm not lying."

"Boundaries! Learn to form them and maybe keep them?" I yell and walk into my cream room.

First I have the disappointment of a roommate and I learn that he's a pervert. Great! College will be fun.

I sigh and place the boxes on my bed and begin to unpack. I just have to ignore the little imperfections that have surfaced in this whole ordeal. Maybe he'll leave me alone? Or stop being creepy?

"You an actress or something?" He said as he walked in, univited.

I turn around and frown. "Heard of knocking?"

"Nah, kinda makes me mysterious. A man of mystery almost."

I bite my lip in furstation and growl slightly. "Or it makes you a creep who won't leave me alone."

He shrugs and grins. "Come on, you must love the attention."

Rolling my eyes once more, I begin to unpack my clothes. I have a feeling that my eyes will be getting plenty of excerise in the future.

Folding my clothes up, I can feel his eyes on me. Watching as I put away my hoodies. Can you say creepy?

I close my eyes and let go of my clothes. "Can I help you?!"

"You haven't answered my question, feisty one." He chuckled and sat on my bed.

"Get off now."

He laid back. "I will when my question is answered.

I want to blow a fuse! Why me? First I have to deal with the divorce of my parents. Taking sides and avoiding everything i've known. Now I deal with a perv who's my roommate.

I take a deep breath and look at him. "I'm taking Music History and Music Theatre."

Smirking, he sits up on the bed. "Music. You sing?"

I shrug slightly. "Sometimes. Depends on what musical or opera."

"You know Les Miserable?"

My eyes light up. "Do I know it? I love it!"

"Well, I believe we've found something we have in common. Anything else?" He asks.

I shrug and crack my knuckles as I sat on the bed. "Well, Music is definitely my strong point. You interested in that?"

"Oh I can talk for hours about music. Strap in your seatbelt." He sat up.

A smile arises on my face as we discuss the importance of classical music in the 21st century. How the new autotune era of music has dominated the world. Also how much we despise that type of music.

"It's ridiculous how the world has been taken over by this new 'music'." I debate.

He nodded in agreement. "If these people can't sing without autotune, don't sing at all!"

"Exactly!" I yell in agreement and stroke my curled hair. "Leave the singing to the professionals."

I chuckle and smile at him. We actually agree on something. And he wasn't even being creepy about it.

Soon enough, topics changed and shifted to more personal experiences. That's when my heart dropped at the horror of his childhood.

I furrow my eyebrows and look at his face. Every cell perfect and in place. No visible sign of abuse or pain within his soul. A way for my to feel pity? Become his friend? You can never just trust someone you met. Especially a creep.

"You were really a slave eh?" I ask and touch his face. "Where are the scars then? The abuse?"

He looked into my eyes and touched my hand. "I had Plastic surgery, Christine. I have scars remaining on my back, stomach, and chest. I can show you?"

"Do so. Cause I don't want to give you undeserved trust and pity." I furrow my eyebrows and cross my arms.

His smirk returned and he lifted his sweatshirt, revealing the toned chest and stomach. Can you say hot? Every man I've met here is beautiful. Did they get them from a modeling agency?

All jokes aside, I saw the scars of whips, permanent bruises on rib cages. Every wound and flaw mounted onto him. Brought tears to my eyes realizing what he'd been through. That I even questioned him.

"I-I'm sorry for questioning you." I mumble and look down.

He shrugs and puts his shirt back on." You're not the first one to ask. I've had to take my shirt off for many people.

I wish he hadn't brought that up. Cause it made me feel anguish about the way I've acted when we just met. I was rude and he didn't even deserve it. Starting over would be a good idea.

"Listen...I'm sorry." I smile. "I was absolutely rude earlier."

"Don't apologize. I admit how creepy I was." His face turns apologetic.

I stick my hand out. "Truce?"

"Truce." He chuckled and grabs my hand, shaking it.

I let out a content breath and close my eyes. "Lord, that feels better to let out."

"You're telling me." He let out a sigh. "Thought you would be mad at me forever."

I laugh and let go of his hand. Maybe it'll be okay? He seems like a fun guy now that I've actually sat and talked to him. Someone who I could trust.

"Can I tell you something?" I ask as I place my hair behind my ears.

He nods and sits up. "I'm all ears."

"You sure? Because this is going to be ridiculou-"

"I said, I'm all ears." He interrupted, silencing me as I tried to talk him out of it.

Okay, just mention the frustration of your parents. He's not your therapist. Don't go blabbing on for hours on the stress of having to be the adult in this whole situation.

"My parents are divorced. I've been dealing with the pain and no one's asked how I'm doing." I look down at the floor.

His hand grazed me chin. "How are you doing, Christine?"

"Not good." I look up at him.

His hand traveled to my shoulder and he looked into my eyes. "Tell me how it all began. From the start to the end."

"O-Okay..." I mumble and clench my fists as I rencounter all the events.

For the first time in the last three months, I felt peace. I told him every thought and feeling which bothered me. How my father turned out to be part of a money laundering scam. My mother was unfaithful with multiple men. How they didn't care about me.

"And yet I take care of my mother. She's never mentioned love in anyway." I bite my lip and try to keep my tears in my eyes.

"She loves you. Christine, she's going through a hard time. She loves you." Erik grabs my hand, rubbing it.

I shake my head and let go of his hand. "What if she doesn't love me? I'll spend most of my life hoping she will and be disappoint-"

"Listen up!" He yelled slightly, interrupting me once more.

Geez. He really likes to interrupt me.

He grabbed my hand and began to stroke it again. "You will block out those thoughts out of your head."

"It's hard though! I can't stop thinking about them."

He shook his head and stroked my hand more. "Promise me you'll try?"

I can try. Yes, I can try to do this. It probably won't work. But I can try. I can try to do this.

"I-I promise..." I whisper quietly and look at the door.

He eyes stared me down as I spoke quieter than a mouse. "What did you say?"

"I promise." I say in more of an indoor voice.

"Louder!" He yelled and squeezed my hand.

I groan at the slight pain and sat up. "I promise!" I yell.

"Good." He smile softly and looked into my eyes. "Does that feel good?"

I nod and let go of his fingers. "Really good...Thank you, Erik." I mumble.

"Of course, that's why I'm here." He let his some continue, becoming sweet.

I squeeze his hand once more and chuckle slightly.

"What are you laughing at?" His eyebrows furrow.

"I'm telling a person I met today my problems." A smile returns to my face.

He shrugs. "Hey, at least you got it out in the open."

"Yeah." I sigh and lie back.

We continued to talk for hours about the most random of things. He comforted me and I him. I felt a connection, something pulling me to him.

"Thank you for listening to my problems." I smirk and relax.

He shrugs and stands up. "Thanks for taking the time to listen to mine."

"You leaving?" I ask and frown playfully. "Am I boring you?"

"Nah, just need to sleep. My class starts tomorrow."

I nod and let him leave. A smile stays on my face as I recountered the conversation that repaired the relationship from creep in my dorm to a potential friend in my dorm.

"2 weeks." I mumble and cover myself in blankets.

2 weeks and I'll be in my classes, living the dream. I'll be able to scape reality and focus on myself for once.

Yes myself. Nothing but myself.

Yawning, I attempt to sleep. Tomorrow's another day. A brand new day full of start overs.