Good [Insert Time of Day Here], Reader, welcome to my very first fanfiction on this site. I'm pretty excited to be writing again and I've got a ton of stories in the works. Just to warn you I won't update too often, so I apologize in advance.

So… JacksonXOperetta, right? I honest to God have no idea where this pairing came from and I've never seen it anywhere else, but I think it's the absolute cutest thing.

This whole fanfiction was based on joke that's going to be featured in a later chapter. Believe me, you'll know it when you see it…

This story is dedicated to my "daughter", Ilzaa. Thank you for making me write all the time


Begin Chapter I


Operetta considered herself a very calm and collected person. Incidences where she lost her temper were few and far between. But when she found a normie kid sitting at HER pipe organ, in HER theatre, in HER GHOULDAMN CATACOMBS… she fancied herself being a teensy weensy bit red-eyed.

"Hi," said the boy nervously, "I'm… Jackson. I-Is this your… organ?"

Jackson didn't make eye contact and that was most likely for the better. Operetta stood with her arms crossed and a fiery scowl etched onto her lavender features.

"You bet 'cher dang bowtie, it is," the phantom replied lowly through grit teeth, "and, pardon mah poutin', but I don't like people touchin' mah things."

The normie boy paled. Quicker than spring on a trampoline, he shot up and moved away from the massive instrument, but not before dusting the seat with a nervous smile for good measure.

Operetta smirked triumphantly as she sat down, about to scare the boy off with one of her more dramatic pieces. Just as she raised her hands, she noticed something. The keys had fingerprints on them. They were faint, thank Hades, but there were many scattered across the keyboard, arranged in a song that Operetta, a monster born to music, had once had difficulty with.

Her eyes widened but she still couldn't believe them. The normie kid, Jackson, played Blechthoven's Moonlight Scarenata, by the looks of it, dang near perfect.

"Hey," Operetta called, still in a daze.

Jackson froze just as he was about to turn and run for it. He looked up anxiously awaiting the reprimand sure to come any second. Operetta pulled the nerdy boy onto the ottoman, hip to hip with the fuming phantom. She placed his limp hands in starting position, sat back and folded her arms.

"Play," she demanded.

Jackson stiffened and opened his mouth to insist on leaving, but under the pressure of the lavender Belle's glare, he resigned himself to her wishes and began the piece.

The beginning was the simplest, and the easiest for musicians of any sort. The music lulled the player into a sense of confidence, until it quickened, became too fierce and terrifying to play properly. It took either monster talent or eight eyes and twice as many arms to do justice to Blechthoven's masterpiece.

That Jackson kid darn sure had the former in abundance. As he played, his fingers worked better together than the legs of a spider. His eyes were closed and his posture was perfect. His body swayed as he traveled across the keyboard, like some sort of stationary waltz.

Operetta's scowl quickly smoothed into a blank stare. The ghoul couldn't help dumb expression, it took all she had to keep her big ol' eyes from overflowing with tears. She felt her heart pulse on each note, resonating through her body the sending a buzz to the ends of her limbs. She was, just maybe, falling a teeny tiny bit in love with the normie boy.

She was about to compliment him when Jackson suddenly stopped on a chord in the middle of the song. He pulled his hands from the piano and wedged them between his thighs.

"T-That's all I know…" he said nervously.

The Gnarlston Belle ached in her chest at the admission; she'd been so excited to hear the boy play through the entire Scarenata. She perked up immediately, figuring this would be a good chance to impress her budding crush.

She quickly glanced at where Jackson's fingers had been and assumed the same position an octave above. Jackson looked at her curiously, but her only explanation was a wink from behind her mask.

Operetta began to the song from where the normie boy left off. She played flawlessly; the natural talent the ghoul possessed made her music enthralling to listen to.

If she was perfectly honest, it was more of a hassle to play that time than the other times she'd performed it. She was all cattywampus and scatterbrained! The ghoul had something to lose if she mangled the melody. After all, she was out to impress the adorable little gent beside her, and fumbling such a famous piece was sure to make Operetta look bad.

Moonlight Scarenata's gnarliest section was fast approaching. Her fingers felt like liquid across the keys as her little old heart tried to beat out of her chest. Was that what it was like it be nervous?

The music got exciting; pulse pounding exciting.
The chords could make the Boogeyman bump his head on a bedframe. Blechthoven was rumored to be as two-faced as Jekyll and Hyde and twice as crazy, and Operetta didn't give a single doubt to that rumor as she played.

Suddenly, Jackson groaned painfully. The Gnarlston Belle halted immediately at the sound and darn near gave herself whiplash checking on him so fast. The nerdy normie clutched the fabric of his sweater vest and covered his ear with his free hand. His body began to convulse as he curled in on himself. Panicking, the redheaded phantom placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey," she called softly, "you alright, sugar cu- AH!"

Flames erupted from Jackson's body, lapping at Operetta's flesh and giving her the nastiest scare of her unlife. She through herself backwards, away from the fire, but her eyes stayed locked on the horrifying spectacle. She might've tried to call for help, but could only scream as her crush seemed to spontaneously combust. Jackson began to move, and through the flames Operetta could see patches of azure flesh and eyes, once blue, bled into scarlet. Was that what happened to normies when they were burning to death?

She backed away, terrified and confused. Her lower back hit the railing of the balcony, but she kept leaning away from the danger. The flaming boy reached out his hand when she looked unsafely close to hurting herself, but she just jerked away and slipped off the balcony.

She didn't even have time to let out a yelp because quicker than a cougar Jackson rushed forward and took a firm hold of her ankle. His touch was so warm and gentle…

When Operetta looked up, she saw someone – definitely NOT Jackson – keeping her from falling. The burnt normie skin she'd assumed the person to have was merely a new pigment. Flaming hair and a deep red jacket caught the ghoul's eye immediately.

The mystery boy smiled.

"Wouldn't want you to break those pretty wings of yours, little songbird," he said.

The phantom Belle's head swam and all of a sudden she was dizzy and more than a tad nauseous. She felt herself being hauled up without much effort but her eyelids were quickly feeling more and more like lead. Just as she was pulled back over the railing, Operetta's consciousness slipped away.


End Chapter I


Whooo… That was fun… Chapter II will be up in a few days. Thank you for reading and I hope to see you again.