Rating: K+
Summary: Christine has finally figured out why, precisely, this woman has affected her quite the way that she does. One-shot unless I am provoked to write another.
Pairings: Slight E/C, apparent C/C
DISCLAIMER: I do not own POTO, Christine, Carlotta, Erik, Raoul, or "That's Not Her Style." That song- words, music, and all- belongs to Mr. Billy Joel. (And if you're on here, sir, please know that I get NOTHING from using your song and that it's being used with love.:) By the way, I will be skipping lines and sections for continuity of my story and got the lyrics off of his Sony site.
P.S.- POTO & its characters belong to Mr. Gaston Leroux (or, most likely, his publishers now).
Right, then. On with the story!
That's Not Her Style
Christine walked into the kitchen and saw her beloved in her simple, purple robe and realized that her original impressions of this woman had been very, utterly wrong. This angel was actually quite modest when she was not being challenged.
Some people think that she's one of those mink-coated ladies
They say she wakes up at one and makes the paparazzi run 'til dawn...
For a moment, she simply stood in the doorway, watching Carlotta read her paper. It was a wonder that the newspapers hadn't been hounding her. She had even been out until late last night at a party celebrating the banishment of the Phantom of the Opera. Of course, Erik and Christine had attended as well, though they were careful not to let anyone see them.
They say she wines and dines with Argentines and Kuwaitis
After she sips margaritas on the White House lawn...
This woman was very much like a fallen angel- she was very distressed and came from a world much different from the one she was living in. After all, she did come from a very rich Italian-Spanish family and she had had everything she could have ever wanted. The only fault in that "plan" was that she had never known her real parents- she had been dropped off at a doorstep in Italy with the typical "please take care of her for we haven't the ability to" kind of note, and she had known it forever.
That's not her style, I can tell you-
That ain't my woman!
Hadn't the poor woman been through enough? When her "parents" had died, she had been left to fend for herself. She had decided to take her supposed voice skills and use them to get herself a job. Her parents had been so proud of her ability that they accepted no criticisms against her. She was home-schooled in every subject. Surely enough, her fluent Spanish, Italian, English, and French had gotten her a job as a member of the chorus at the infamous Paris opera house, the Opera Populaire. It was only when the leading soprano had fallen ill that she had become lead. She had remained the leading soprano for five seasons and was married to the leading tenor, Ubaldo Piangi. That is, of course, until Christine had come along, making her the Phantom's worst enemy when he had decided that Christine was better. He had even killed the love of her life, just to get to Christine.
She did not, of course, always live her normal life. She did what her teachers used to call "acting out" quite a bit these days.
It's not that she's never done something crazy, or done something wild
It's just that she's better at doin' whatever suits her style!
'And, after all,' Christine thought, 'that doesn't suit her style at all.
'Nothing suits my sister more than having her own style.'
A/N: Okay. Well, I haven't done this kind of thing before, and I'm not really planning to. I can't really say that I didn't see that ending coming, but this little song-phiclet just kind of… evolved. And I do know that I did this differently than most authors do, as I decided to only use a few lines from the song and not the whole thing. Please do let me know what you think. If you think that I should add more, please let me know and I'll do my best to satisfy everyone's wishes. :)
P.P.S.- If any of you out there would like to beta for me- for any of my stories- PLEASE LET ME KNOW. All of my stories are unbeta'd, so I'm sure there are problems with grammar and all of that stuff. I would greatly appreciate it!