A/N: So, this is a thing.

I haven't had a chance to write fanfiction for months, and for the last three days I've sat in front of my computer trying to write for hours upon hours to no avail. I couldn't force myself to work on my current projects, and I couldn't come up with a one shot. So, to fight my writer's block, I wrote this, the only thing that would agree to be put on paper. Or…Word document.

So there are a few things that need to be said about this. The first is an explanation. For people who haven't read my Phantom fanfic before – um, everybody – it's important to know that what I like to write is cliché, sort of. I like to take something cliché and see if I can make it something different. I have a realistic Erik/AW, a Erik-meets-a-mysterious-woman crossover and uh…some R/C, which is not cliché but whatever.

Point is, when you start to read this story, it will scream 'THIS IS A CLICHÉ ABORT ABORT', but I'm hoping at the end people will go 'Well. That was lovely and unexpected'.

This first chapter has no Phantom in it because – um, SPOILER ALERT – it's a modern-girl-goes-to-the-Phantom-world story, and the first chapter needed to introduce the main character.

What else do you need to know? Well, this is my first Phantom multichapter (we're pretending my very first fanfiction does not exist) and I'm awful at updating and I already have like three major projects going on, so fingers crossed I update on a somewhat-regular basis. I also kind of have a love/hate relationship with it, so…well, we'll see what you all think, won't we?

Everything else: Phantom of the Opera ought to be owned by Gaston Leroux/his family, but regardless it is not owned by me. French marriage law and possibly tradition have been tossed out the window. And a perfume that is mentioned can't actually be the character's signature scent, since it was limited edition and only available in a certain area, but I fell in love with the description so…I went with it. Also, I like weddings.

Well this has been a long author's note, so without further ado…here's the story!

AUGUST 2013

The happiest day of Shannon Baker's life was turning out to be more stressful than joyful.

Of course, all the arrangements had already been made. The small church was decorated with yellow and white daisies. The small hall next door to the church had all the rustic chairs and wildflowers she'd requested, along with the champagne, herbal tea and pastries ready, as well as the perfect strawberry almond layer cake made by her father set in place. Her dress fit flawlessly, as did all her friends' pale yellow dresses. The violinist was in place, the tickets to Malaga, Spain bought, her carryon packed. Everything was prepared…except, of course, for her.

She stood in front of the mirror in nothing but her white lace-and-silk slip and dark blue heels, pinning her hair with golden-brown bobby pins that disappeared in her hair and spraying with hairspray frantically. Her makeup was already done – it was simple enough, with dark eyeliner, mascara and pale pink lipstick – but that was all. Her dress still hung on the back of the bathroom door, the daisies for her bouquet were scattered across the table, and if she was really honest with herself, she wasn't entirely sure where her ring was.

But there was no time to worry about that. There was no time at all, really – she was due down the aisle in ten minutes, which in bridal time was really three. She had been too distracted that morning, enjoying a simple breakfast, a quick run, a long bath and far too long daydreaming about her future life. Her thoughts were scattered, her things were scattered. Really, she'd never been very good at focusing. Maybe that was why her older sisters were accomplished – one a Harvard law student, the other a principal singer at the Metropolitan Opera – and she was just an unpublished young adult mystery writer.

At the thought of her sisters, one arrived at the bathroom door, swinging it open.

"Shannon!" gasped Natalie, the singer. "Why aren't you in your dress yet? And where are your bridesmaids? And Abigail – isn't she supposed to be your Maid of Honor?"

"Zoe is finishing the last touches of decorating the reception hall, and I sent Jenny and Jessica to check on the minister – not wise, since neither of them speak French," sighed Shannon as she narrowly avoided spraying herself in her vividly blue eyes. "They're probably doing some very entertaining interpretive dance to ask him if he's ready."

"I'm sure Romain already checked with him, bumblebee," said Natalie, taking the hairspray from her little sister and beginning to pin the strands back. "You know, the Matron of Honor isn't supposed to have to do this."

"I know, I'm sorry," said Shannon, picking up a pink tube and reapplying her lipstick. "I don't know where Abby ran off to. She's usually so dependable."

The door to the small bridal suite opened and shut, and from the loud voices that spoke over each other she knew that her friends Jenny and Jessica were back from bothering the Parisian minister.

"Shannon, I love you and all, but did you really have to have your wedding in Paris," shouted Jessica, poking her head into the bathroom, seemingly unfazed by Shannon's lack of proper clothing. "It's making communication very difficult."

"We could have done this back in Corpus Christi," said Jenny behind her, a little more sensitive to Shannon's state of undress. "You always said you wanted a beach wedding, anyway, Shay."

Shannon tried not to roll her eyes. "Plans change, guys. I moved to Paris four years ago, my fiancée and all his family are French, I'm technically a French citizen, and it was the obvious choice to have it here. I would think that ya'll would be used to that idea by now."

"Ah, see!" exclaimed Jessica, pointing at Shannon's reflection in the small mirror above the sink. "You said 'ya'll'. There's still Texan in you."

Shannon wrinkled her small nose then stuck her tongue out. "I'll always be Texan. But I'm also a Parisian now."

Natalie set the hairspray down and tried to wipe the stickiness off on her gold dress. "Alright, that's that. Time to get on your dress, bumblebee. Jessica, could you put together the bouquet and tie the string around it? And Jenny, put the veil in her hair. I'm going back to my seat…you know how Marcelo is around people he doesn't know."

Shannon nodded, and picked up her golden locket, with her signature bumblebee figure on the front accented by small diamonds. "Please check on father, too, will you? I think he's more nervous than I am."

Natalie took the locket from her sister and clasped it on, and then nodded and left the bridal suite. Jessica went to the table and began arranging the daises, and Jenny came into the bathroom holding the thick pearl headband with a small white birdcage veil and fixed it near the front of Shannon's head.

"Are you really very nervous?" Jenny asked as she arranged Shannon's hair around the edges of the headband, but glanced in the mirror to make sure her own updo hadn't fallen out of place.

"Not very," said Shannon, glancing down at her pale pink manicure, and then moving her head back up after an irritated swat from Jenny. "I'm stressed because I'm worried the wedding itself will fall apart, and I'd say I'm as nervous as any bride on her wedding day. But mostly…" she smiled wide, revealing brilliantly white teeth, dimples and the way her eyes crinkled when genuinely grinning. "I'm radiantly happy. I'm smiling even more than I usually do, I keep giggling for no reason. Today I'm marrying the most wonderful man in the world and my life will be complete, and I'll be a wife and I…I just couldn't be happier."

"You really are glowing," said Jenny, finishing arranging the veil and stepping back. "And I thought that was just something people said, not a real thing. But you're glowing, you really are."

"Maybe that's just the spray tan," said Jessica, coming up to the door and holding up the bouquet for inspection. "This good?"

Shannon playfully swatted her friend's shoulder, sticking her tongue out again. "It's good. You're horrible, but it's good."

Jessica snorted. "I'm amazing, I don't know what you're talking about. And did you know your engagement ring and Romain's ring are both on the table?"

"Oh!" exclaimed Shannon in relief, glancing past Jessica to the table. They'd been hidden beneath the daises. "Thank heavens. Please go take Romain's ring to Adam – that's his little cousin, the ring bearer. He doesn't speak a word of English, but he knows what to do with it."

Jessica nodded, grabbed the ring, and headed out.

"I need help putting my dress on," said Shannon, unzipping the cover on the large, white fairytale wedding dress. She pulled it from it's hanger, and Shannon stepped into it, and Jenny zipped it up. Carefully, Shannon left the bathroom and stepped into the warm bridal suite, the full skirt of her gown scraping the edges of the door. She stared at the dress, and then herself in the dress, and smiled. It was perfect for her, and she felt just like a bride in a magazine. The dress had a strapless sweetheart neckline, princess waist with a ball gown skirt and chapel train, a skirt of tulle with small embellishments scattered across it, white daises with golden centers. The daisies covered the bodice of the dress, with a ribbon at the waist separating the skirt and the bodice. It was the dress of her dreams.

"Okay, checklist," said Jenny, handing Shannon her engagement ring, a simple princess-cut diamond on a silver band. "Some old?"

Shannon slipped the ring on, and with a contented sigh, turned to her best friend. "This locket was my great-grandmothers originally."

"Something new?"

"New wildflowers in my bouquet."

"Something borrowed?"

Shannon motioned to her earlobes, which were adorned with small rose gold daisies with pearl centers. "These earrings are Abby's."

"Something blue?"

Shannon lifted her skirt, revealing the dark blue heels, sandals with one strap across the toes and one around the ankle. "Check!" she squealed, then clapped her hands delightedly. "I'm so excited. Nervous and stressed, but excited. I'm practically bursting with energy!"

"You always are," said Jenny, rolling her eyes as Jessica came back into the room.

"Everyone is seated and waiting, are you ready to go?" she asked as she shut the door behind her.

"One last touch!" said Shannon, lifting her skirt so she could run to the little table. She picked up a bottle of pink perfume and sprayed it at her wrists, elbows, neck, and once in her hair. Closing her eyes and breathing deep, the dimples appeared in her cheeks again as she adored the scent of beeswax, Turkish rose and crushed mint with a hint of citrus. Prada's Infusion de Rose was her signature scent, and she never went anywhere without a spray or two. She considered trying a new scent for her wedding – her fiancee's sister, Zoe, insisted that it was a sin for any French woman to not go perfume shopping before her wedding – but the smell made her feel comfortable. She couldn't go through the most important day of her life without it.

"Okay," she said, opening her eyes and putting the bottle into her floral duffle bag, open on the small wooden chair beside the table. "Everyone is in their seats?"

"Yes," said Jessica, putting her hands on her hips, her silver nailpolish contrasting with the pale yellow dress.

"Has anyone seen Abiga-" at that moment the door opened, but it wasn't Abigail. Instead it was the tall, lithe, blonde Zoe, who looked much more fashionable than any twenty year old had a right to be.

"Sorry, Shay," she said, her accent heavy. "The votive candles were difficult to place in their holders, but I'm finished now."

"Don't worry about it," smiled Shannon, walking over and wrapping her arms around her future sister-in-laws shoulders. "I appreciate all the work you put into it, I'm sure the reception hall is lovely."

Zoe smiled and hugged Shannon back, then stepped away. "How is the future Mrs. Romain Desrosiers?"

Shannon giggled, again feeling completely delighted. "Lightheaded from happiness. I can't wait to marry him."

"Well, the ceremony should start in about four minutes," said Jessica. "Are you ready to go?"

Shannon nodded. "Zoe, does the minister know about the moment of silence I wanted for mom?"

Zoe nodded, her blonde ringlets bouncing with the motion. "I told him this morning. Right before the vows."

"Can you make sure Romain is in place for me? I don't want him to see the dress! And see if you can find Abigail, too. Last I heard, she was tying cans to the back of the car."

Zoe grinned, and nodded. "I'll be right back!"

As Zoe left, Shannon turned to her friends. "How do I look? I mean, I wish I could do something about the freckles, but-"

"They make you look youthful," insisted Jenny. "And you look beautiful, Shay. Every bit a glowing bride."

"She's right," admitted Jessica, who didn't usually indulge in praise. "You really are glowing."

Shannon twirled, and then posed for a moment. As her friends applauded, she put her arms around her closest friends. "I love you both. I couldn't have made it through the last few years without you, you know?"

"You would have pulled through no matter what, Shay," said Jenny, hugging her friend back. "You're a naturally optimistic person, and stronger than you think."

Jessica nodded in agreement, and then pulled away. "Not that I don't love talking about how awesome we are, but you have a wedding to get to, Shannon."

Shannon nodded, straightened her dress, pulled her shoulders back and picked up her bouquet, holding in front of her at her waist. "Real quick – someone call me 'Miss Baker' for the last time."

Jessica laughed. "Are you ready to get hitched, Miss Shannon Alice Baker?"

With a sigh of bliss, Shannon nodded. "Definitely."

Out in the chapel, there were only a few guests. Shannon's father, Donald, a world-renowned pastry chef sat beside his daughter Natalie and her husband Marcelo and Shannon's friend Hannah Snow, who taught English in Korea and was unsure if she'd make it to the wedding until three days before. The rest of the guests were Romain's: his parents, some extended family and a large group of his friends. The rest of their acquaintances were in the wedding party. Aside from Shannon's Maid of Honor and bridesmaids, the flower girl was Jessica's little sister Amanda, who was sixteen but glad to participate in any way. The Best Man was Romain's younger brother Ethan, who was nineteen and attending Yale University, but hadn't stopped chatting with Amanda since he'd arrived, claiming to be practicing his English but really delighted by her sweetness. The Groomsmen were really Groomsman, and was Adam Faulkner, a British Literature professor at a prestigious French university.

The crowd was nearly entirely upper class, or otherwise used to sophisticated things. They were intelligent, creative and successful people, the sort of people who were used to everything going according to their plans.

So there was a bit of an upset when the bride walked in, moving quickly down the aisle with her bouquet shaking in one hand, her bridesmaids trailing her.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Zoe could be heard asking. "I could do it for you, you don't have to deal with-"

"No," said Shannon, her voice cool yet unsteady. "These are my guests now, it's my responsibility."

Donald stood, placing his hands on the pew ahead of him, concerned for his daughter. What had happened?

Shannon stood before the altar, and turned to face the wedding guests. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, then opened her eyes and spoke loudly. "I'm afraid there won't be a wedding today, or any day for Romain and I," she announced, and then repeated herself in French. "I don't like being the one to have to tell most of you…he should have done it himself…but things being as they are…" she sighed, and translated herself again, this time connecting her thoughts a little more clearly. "Romain and my sister Abigail have left together. He left a voicemail on Zoe's phone, explaining that after meeting her a couple months ago it had been 'love at first sight'…" again, she paused to translate. "And after seeing her today, he couldn't pretend otherwise. He said she is more his type, and he likes how grounded she is and how ambitious and focused she is, and likes that she has a streak of spontaneity whereas he finds my constant spontaneity exhausting." As she translated, her voice began to shake as much as her hands, and she began twisting her fingers together as she spoke. "So they left together to Malaga, and they may elope. I'm very sorry, Desrosiers family, to tell you this way, and I'm sorry to everyone who wasted their precious time and hard-earned money coming to a wedding that will no longer be taking place." Again she translated, and again her voice shook, and this time her throat began to close up. But she forced her next words out, "But please, I invite everyone to go next door to the reception hall and enjoy yourselves. There's tea, and a blueberry tart, and peach parfaits, and raspberry sorbet and various candies and miniature pastries and plenty of champagne and this really – really lovely wedding cake that my father made, and it's beautiful and delicious and shouldn't have to go to waste. There are chocolate boxes and jars of lavender honey as wedding favors, and a band, and everyone should go and have a lovely time, and I'll do my best to reimburse anyone who wants their expenses paid for. Please write your name and email in the guest book, and I will join everyone…later." Wiping a tear from her cheek, she finished translating her speech.

Everyone was very still and silent for a moment, and then began to crowd around Shannon, speaking sympathies and asking questions that she was incapable of answering. She did her best to smile and respond, but all she felt was dizzy and disoriented, and the crowd of people around her was like a roar of meaningless sound until her father came and hugged her and whispered, "Your mother would be very proud of you, bumblebee."

The chapel had been empty for half an hour, save for the would-be bride still standing by the alter, wilting bouquet in hand. She stood blinking at the empty pews, trying to process everything that had happened but only barely capable of realizing that she wasn't getting married.

The side door opened, and in walked Zoe, a plate in hand of marzipan fruits, a few miniature fruit basket pastries and a thin slice of cake with a gold fork beside it. She motioned for Shannon to sit, who obeyed, and then took a seat beside her, taking the bouquet and handing the plate to her.

"I thought you might need something in your system," said Zoe, having trouble with the word 'system'. "You'll have to come join us for alcohol."

Shannon tried to smile but couldn't find the strength to turn the corners of her mouth up. Instead, she picked up a marzipan pear and took a bite. She slowly chewed and swallowed, and then spoke. "I came to Paris to write, and fell in love. And here I am, four years later…still unpublished, and left at the altar for my sister. I just…I don't understand what went wrong." Her shoulders began to shake, and Zoe pulled her into a tight hug, though the marzipan pear became squished against her dress.

"I thought he loved me," Shannon cried into the younger girl's shoulder. "I didn't think he found me exhausting, or flighty, or bossy or spoiled or any of those things he said on your voicemail. I thought he was perfect, he was supposed to be my prince charming."

"That's the danger of thinking someone is perfect," began Zoe, patting Shannon's quickly falling hair, "You run the risk of finding out they're not, in the worst way. It's always best to see and love the flaws as well as the charms," she said, and Shannon thought the comment could be for either her or Romain. "My brother was never perfect. He's always been a snob. But he's charming enough that people don't always see it."

Shannon gave a mirthless laugh. "Then he and Abby are perfect for each other."

"The only good thing about Romain marrying Abigail, is that I'll still get you for a sister, Shay."

Shannon pulled away and smiled at Zoe through her tears, which were leaving a mascara trail. "Thank you for that. I really hope we stay close, no matter what."

Zoe smiled and kissed Shannon on the cheek. "We will. I promise. Now, do you want to go in to the party?"

"No," Shannon said, shaking her head, causing another pin to slip out of place. "I'm not ready yet. I need to straighten my thoughts somehow. I'm still…in denial, I suppose. Part of me thinks he'll show up down the aisle and tell me it was all a joke."

"A cruel joke like that would be a good reason to end it, anyway," said Shannon. She stood, and then hesitated and reached into her clutch. She pulled out a plain gold band and offered it to Shannon. "Here's his ring. You can sell it and the engagement ring and go on your own vacation. You deserve one."

Shannon smiled sadly and took the ring. "Thank you."

Zoe nodded, and then turned and left, giving Shannon her privacy. With a sigh, she clutched the ring in one hand, her bouquet in the other, and went back to the bridal suite. As she glimpsed her image in the mirror, she threw the bouquet at the mirror with an angry cry, then turned and to her bag. She picked it up, went to the back door of the chapel and stepped outside.

This door had two paths leading from it. The right one led to the gate and the reception hall, the left one to the old graveyard. She took the path to the left.

The sun was beginning to set, and what had once been a sunny day was, to Shannon's opinion, becoming appropriately dark and cloudy. She could smell that electrical scent of an oncoming storm, and thought it would be poetic for her to be caught in it while still in her wedding dress.

She walked for a few minutes until she spotted a bench beneath a lighted lamppost, and she sat with her bag on her lap and Romain's ring clenched in her fist as she watched the sun disappear, and was disappointed when she couldn't see the pinpricks of light in the night sky. Instead, she heard loud thunder roar in the distance, and knew her suspicion that a storm was coming was confirmed.

In a moment, that ring suddenly represented everything that had gone wrong – her wedding plans, her relationship, her career, her missing parent, her whole life. Nothing had gone according to plan, and whilst she usually enjoyed the freedom of not having a plan for her life…now she just felt empty, or more accurately, faded. Like a faded version of her vibrant self. Like art that has been left in the sun too long, the drawing still there but the colors, the life faded. And it made her sad, and tired, and angry.

She stood, one hand lifting her skirt and the other clenching the ring. With a quick movement, she hurled the ring as far from herself as possible, and before the ring could hit the ground there was a deafening crack of thunder, and a sudden, violent downpour began.

Shannon hardly noticed, as she dropped her skirt and tore off her veil, and began ripping the remaining pins from her hair painfully. What was she supposed to do now? Stay in Paris, keep trying to write? Have Romain be her brother-in-law and somehow pretend she was okay with that? She couldn't see herself doing that, but could she really completely cut ties with her sister forever?

Somewhere beneath all the pain, the jealousy of her sister, the uncertainty…she knew she could forgive them both. If they were honestly in love…how could she stand between that? How could she say it was wrong? Of course, the way it had been handled was wrong. But she needed her older sister. And if Romain came along with her relationship with her sister, than so be it.

"What am I supposed to do with myself now?" she whispered to the rain, confused and distraught. Almost as an answer, lightning flashed in the dark sky, and the light caught the gold of Romain's wedding band. She remembered Zoe suggesting that she sell both rings and go on vacation. Maybe that was best – she could use the time away from her life and her family to clear her head.

Shannon picked up her bag, purposefully pushed her veil into the mud with a step, and walked to where the ring lay against the grass. The simple trek was made difficult by the rain and the mud, her velvety blue heels sinking into the ground with every step. Her wedding dress was becoming heavier and heavier as the tulle and satin became filled with rainwater; the ball gown skirt she had loved so much was now a hindrance. She knelt in the mud, and let the ugly brown soak into the once brilliant white. She picked up the ring, slipping it onto her thumb, and moved to stand when another flash of gold caught her eye. Her brow furrowed in curiosity, she reached down, pushed her fingers into the mud and pulled out the round, golden band. Carefully, she used the fabric of her bag to wipe away the mud and examined the ring. It looked old, much older than Romain's ring. It had lost most of it's shine, and something had once been engraved on the inside but it had nearly disappeared now. She hooked her bag on her arm and stood, walking back to the lamppost so she could try to make out what was left of the writing, but the moment she lifted the ring up the light went out.

Blinking, Shannon glanced around the graveyard to see that every lamp had gone out.

"Oh!" she sighed in frustration. Making her way back to the church now would be near impossible. Why couldn't anything go right today?

The cold of the rain was now beginning to sink into her skin, causing her to shiver, and the slight shake seemed to remind her body that she was mourning the life she thought she was going to have. Slowly, her shoulders began to shake, and she closed her eyes tight and wrapped her arms around herself, sobbing silently. "Why doesn't he love me?"

She lifted her eyes to the sky, blinking away the raindrops. She wanted to ask the universe where she had gone wrong, but as she clutched the carryon bag closer to herself, she remembered the diamond cross necklace that was safe inside. The religious symbol wasn't something she wore often, but it had belonged to her mother, and carrying it made it feel as though her mother was close to her.

With a sigh she could see on the air, Shannon began to speak. "Hey, God. I know I haven't prayed since I was a kid, but I've always had a belief and I've always tried to be a good person so…maybe that counts for something? I just could really use some help right now," she said, her voice more pleading and pathetic than she wanted it to sound. She took a deep breath to steady herself, but still tears fell down her cheeks along with the rain drops, and her voice cracked a few times as she spoke. "I just don't know what the purpose of all this is. I know I haven't exactly been perfect, but I thought I deserved happiness. But now I…I just don't know. Maybe this is happening because I haven't been punished enough for my past? Or maybe I'm being too self-centered…maybe this has nothing to do with me and is just Abby's happy ending."

Shannon closed her eyes for a moment and stood still, as though listening for some sort of answer. But of course there was none, and she continued. "I just-" her throat closed up suddenly, and she swallowed hard a few times before she could speak again. "I just could really use some sort of reassurance that this isn't going to change me into some bitter…bitter old maid. I've always tried to be optimistic and I don't want this to ruin me. And…if it's okay with you, some sort of sign that there's a reason to this, and…and maybe that I have a happy ending in store for me, too, would be-"

Her words ceased suddenly as a blinding flash of light appeared before her, and she screamed in pain as the harsh light caused her head to throb.

Lightning striking, she thought, and was about to thank her lucky stars that she wasn't hit when there was another flash of light, and a sharp, severe pain caused her body to shake and then collapse. She felt a horrible, buzzing energy run through her limbs, down her spine, behind her eyes – and as she gasped for air, everything went black.

Artificial: Reviews would be wonderful, even of the 'this is why this story sucks' variety. I only read through this twice before posting it in a less-than-clear state of mind, so...I'm just going to come out and say that it isn't my best work by far. But I hope someone enjoys it, anyway!