Chapter One:

It's been well over a week since the audition, and the suspense of waiting to hear the results has been killing me. It's been killing Phillip too, what with my pacing around the apartment, hardly getting any sleep, anxiously staring at my cellphone waiting for that callback. "It's going to be fine, Keira, I'm sure of it!" he would reassure me over and over. I'd bite my lip, look down, fiddle with my hair like I always do when I'm nervous or anxious.

"I hope so. I just... I want this part so much."

The role in question was that of Christine Daae, the soprano in Phantom of the Opera. It's been my dream to play as her, ever since I was small. In fact, I would even go so far as to say the musical was what got me so passionate about theater, drama and singing in the first place. It certainly helped that my parents have been supportive of me as well, encouraging me every step of the way. Mom would personally coach me in singing lessons, my father would play tunes on his violin so I had music to sing by. My dad and I... we had always been so close. I have many fond memories of him. From waiting backstage for him to finish up a concert with his orchestra, running and leaping into his arms as soon as the curtain fell, to him reading stories to me before bed. That closeness with him is definitely what makes him being gone all the harder.

He had died when I was only thirteen. I always try to do my best for each and every performance I do to honor his memory. From plays in middle and high school, to small time roles in a number of theaters, to finally getting to Broadway itself. I haven't had many big roles, often just being a chorus girl or some extra, that was until Wicked. I had auditioned for Elphaba (for what I figured at the time, go big or go home right?) and while I didn't get her role, I was offered Glinda instead. I took it, of course. I guess it made sense for me to play the Good Witch, since the costume department would have it easy. Blonde hair and blue eyes? Check and check, no wig or contacts needed for me!

Yet even with such a role under my belt, Christine eluded me still. The Phantom of the Opera... it really has been a story that's mesmerized and haunted me. I still can recall being a little kid in the car, looking out the window and seeing the white mask advertised over one of the theaters. Seeing both enraptured and frightened me. I'd ask my mom and dad incessantly about it, eager to learn everything I could about it. It sparked my interest and curiosity like nothing had before, or even since. I read the book when I was older, got the original London cast recording and wore out the CD's from listening to them over and over. Copy whatever fan art I could find online to the hard drive of the computer, read all the fan fictions I could get my hands on, good or bad. It's almost embarrassing to say just how... obsessed I am with Phantom. Although I have to laugh at myself too, what with being a teenager and pitying 'poor Erik'. I would blame Christine for not staying with him, not understanding why she would choose to stay with 'boring, foppish Raoul'. How silly I was back then! I still love Erik as a character, he will always be a favorite of mine, but goodness knows now if I were in Christine's place, I would choose Raoul too. As the saying goes: 'cool motive, still murder'.

The phone started ringing. My head snapped over to the device buzzing on the counter top. I couldn't get to it any faster. Rushing over, I skidded across the floor, swiping it up from the kitchen counter and only getting a glance of the number to see that it was the company finally calling back. "Hello?" I asked, doing my best to keep my voice as smooth, calm and professional as I could.

"Yes, am I speaking with Miss Keira Day?" a man had asked. I licked my lips, instinctively nodding and realized there was no way he could see. "Yes, this is she." I replied.

"Good, very good. Miss Day, I am calling to offer you the role of Christine Daae for out latest production of Phantom of the Opera. Would like to accept this role?"

I swore my heart skipped a bit, then it was pounding a mile a minute. Again I tried not to get over excited and scream back 'god yes!' to the poor man. Instead I let a smile form and gave a polite "Yes, I would be more than happy to accept." as my response. Once more the man said 'very good', giving me details as to when rehearsals would start, take place and the whole nine yards. "Yes, thank you very much, have a nice one. Good-bye." I bid, clicking off the phone and staring at it in my hand. I couldn't hold back my excitement any longer.

"Yes! God, YES! Fucking finally!" I whooped out, giving a shout and doing victory laps around the couch, uncaring for the moment what my neighbors thought in the room next door or below. I was laughing, crying, having to cough a bit to clear my throat I was so thrilled. Soon enough I was stooped over, having to catch my breath like I had run a marathon. As soon as Phillip had returned home from work I had pounced on him, smothering him with kisses and hardly letting him get a word in wondering what had happened.

"I got it! I got the part! I'm gonna be Christine!" I said, bouncing up and down giddily before him. He gave a sharp laugh then a happy smile before giving me a tight embrace. "Keira, oh that's great! I'm so, so happy for you! We should... no, NEED to go out and celebrate. This is big."

The celebrating part wasn't surprising, but the going out was. I look at him for a moment, quizzical and possibly concerned. "Are you sure? Can we afford it?" Neither of us were the richest of folk. Sure, my newest role was definitely going to get me a pretty penny, but by no means I could suddenly be dropping hundred's on designer gowns or rare autographed books. Phillip looked at me kindly, giving that smile I so positively adored.

"It'll be fine Keira. You deserve a treat."

I shook my head at him, but I gave in. "Alright," I leaned over to give a peck to his cheek, "let me get my face on and some decent clothes, 'kay?"

I knew I had a score of other people to give the news to too. Mom would be one of the first to hear, for sure. In fact, I made sure to bring my phone with me into the bedroom so I could give her a call. It rang a couple of times before it answered. "Keira! Hi sweetie! So what did you hear back?" mom always seemed able to tell what was on my mind or what I wanted to talk about, it was a special gift of hers. That smile overcame my mouth again as I sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Mom! I got it! I got Christine!"

We both shared childish glee, squealing over the phone and she gave her fondest congratulations. "I'm so proud of you sweetie. You've worked hard to get this role and you deserve it. ...You know your father is proud too." I smiled a bit more solemnly at that, nodding my head slightly, "Yeah, I'll... I'll have to go tell him too. He'd be happy to hear it." I sat for another moment, silent, before mom said that she should let me go, that Phillip and I probably have plans. "We'll have to celebrate too! Okay, love you dear!"

"Love you too mom!"

I clicked off the phone, setting it down beside me before I began the process of picking just the right outfit, styling my hair, figuring out what exactly I wanted to do with my make-up. Another reason I loved Phillip was for his patience. He wouldn't question why I did this or that, why I didn't stick with the first or fourth shirt or skirt, although I knew that he would have the thought in mind. He just understood that it was important for me to do this, and it's something a lot of my past boyfriend's didn't get.

When I was finally ready, my curls as tamed as they were ever going to be, we headed out. "Daniel's?" Phillip asked when we were settled in the car. I gave him a smile that was tell tale to him for my thoughts on the matter and he gave a laugh. "Daniel's it is then."

Although there was some traffic, the evening couldn't have gone any more perfectly. We got a table surprisingly quickly despite no reservation, a kind waiter and just the two of us together. Our drinks were dropped off, a glass of wine for me and some coke for Phillip (since he was driving after all). We lifted our glasses, holding them outward. "To Phantom." Phillip toasted and I flashed a grin.

"To Phantom."

Clinking the glass together, I took a sip and sighed. Everything was coming up roses. My dad always told me to keep my chin up, and my dad was right.