A/N:Okay, my people, this is a little old, but oh well. I edited it a little to flow better. Anyways, listen up! I followed the movie as closely as I possibly could as far as story-line goes (it's a little out of order and there's some stuff that wasn't there, but oh well). But, it contains a new cast, a new time period and a new setting. Now, if you aren't open minded and are only gonna hate the story cos it's different from the original, I suggest you leave and don't be posting hate comments about it.

Google Tokio Hotel, if you don't know who they are.

For those of you sexy people who do like to shake it up, here is Sing For Me. ;D


Chapter One

Do you know when you have those days when it seems like EVERYONE is out to get you in some way, shape, or form?

If you do, welcome to my world.

If you don't, then consider yourself one of the more blessed people in the universe.

I mean, I know everyone's rehearsing for tonight's big show, but seriously, why do people feel the need to take it all out on me?

"Kristina!" someone said, though it wasn't a summoning voice.

Ugh.

Gustav Schafer, one of my best friends and sanity of this place, somehow magically materialized at my side.

"Bad day?" he grinned, running a comb through his shaggy blond hair. I just stared my hair, not attempting to do anything to it. My hair was black and razor cut into a million different layers and lengths and through it all, still managed to be long enough to fall to my elbows. I sighed, ran a comb through it once, and shoved the gaudy headband, which went with our ballet costumes, in it.

Stuff you'll need to know about my life:

My [full] name is Kristina Anastasia Soloviova. I was taken in here, at this fancy-shmancy Berlin opera house a few years ago when my parents passed away. I used to live in Russia – St. Petersburg, to be exact. I speak very fluent Russian and a good amount of English. My German wasn't great when I first moved, but it's gotten considerably better as time has gone on.

"You have no idea," I muttered back to Gustav, my head falling into my hands.

"You're coming with me tonight."

I looked up. "Where?"

He barked a laugh. "Where? Around here! This place! I keep hearing it's haunted and I want in on the action! Besides, there's a party for all the ballet dancers that Tom is holding in one of those "forbidden" rooms."

Tom Kaulitz was another good friend of mine. He was one of the most talented male dancers at this opera house.

"I don't know…" I trailed, looking down and my hands.

"Aw, come awn, Kristina! It's 2011 and you're sixteen! Live a little!" He complained. "You've been acting like nothing but a zombie for the past few weeks and it's starting to scare me. Seriously, what's going on? Or are you purposely trying to look like queen of the dead?"

"You seriously want to know?"

"YES!"

"I'm suffering from insomnia."

He just stared blankly at me. "You can't sleep?"

"No."

"Why not?"

I looked at him and rolled my eyes. "Gee, well, if I knew that…."

"Any strange dreams, maybe?"

That did strike a chord with what I was going through. "Well…kind of."

"Tell me more…" he encouraged, a smile breaking on his face.

"There's this guy and I can't really see his face, but he's singing. To me, I guess. To me, about me, I'm not really sure, but all I know is that he's singing and he has the more angelic voice of the world and then…I just wake up. They're the best dreams I've had in a long time, but that's not what's keeping me awake – I can't fall asleep and that's the problem I'm having. Not the dreams." I explained in a nutshell.

"Well then…I don't know," he gave me a sympathetic smile, placing a hand on my shoulder which I quickly shrugged off after feeling that it was freezing cold.

"Fraulein Soloviova!" Frau Schafer, Gustav's mom, called from somewhere, making sure everyone was here for rehearsal.

"If someone calls me "fraulein" one more time, I'm going to go insane and kill someone," I growled under my breath while reporting to the ballet room.

"I'm here!" I waved in the door. She checked my name off a list.

"I guess she already knows you're here," I told Gustav after walking back to him.

"No kidding."


I went through the ballet routine with the other dancers my age and younger and older. I tried my hardest to make it look like I was concentrating on my steps, though my brain refused to go anywhere but the fact that I didn't really feel comfortable dancing in these skimpy slave outfits and my strange dreams. I hadn't realized that talking about them would make you think about them so much…. I tried, though, to mentally put a face with the voice and here's what I came up with:

-tall

-beautiful

-Angel-like

-statuesque

-blond hair

-blue eyes

-fair skinned

-perfect

And how was I to know if it was wrong? I mean, it's just a dream – I can make up anyone I want to go with the voice. This face was attractive and, in my mind, it went very well with the attractive voice.

"You! Kristina Soloviova! Concentrate, girl!" Frau Schafer's voice cruelly brought me out of my reverie, when I had absentmindedly stepped out of place.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, some of you may have met Monsieur Andre and Monsieur Firmin…." A voice spoke in the distance. How I could hear it over the loud music of the orchestra, I don't know. "Monsieur Reyer, if you please…"

"Herr Baum! We are rehearsing!" the conductor snapped at the Opera House owner.

"Yes, and my apologies, monsieur, but this will only take a moment," Herr Lefevre promised. Several eye rolls and angry sighs went over the small crowd of dancers around me.

"He just has to interrupt us every time, doesn't he?" one of my…not "friend" so much but "acquaintance", Megan, snarled. She's a few years younger than me at fourteen, since I'm seventeen now. Though fourteen or not, she can definitely put someone in their place.

"Ladies and gentlemen – Frau Schafer, thank you – may I have you attention, please?" Herr Baum started his long speech. "As you know, for some weeks, there have been rumors of my immanent retirement. I can tell you now that those are all true and it's my pleasure to introduce to you the two gentlemen who now own Der Oper Haus: Monsieur Richard Firmin and Monsieur Gilles Andre."

People around me started applauding them for something. I did, too, out of politeness. Then the beautiful and wonderful and worshipped Signora Carlotta felt the need to make her presence known so these two new guys could worship her as well. That's another thing – why do two French people own a German opera house? Do I seriously care either way? No. Just one of those things that cross my mind every now and again

Signora Carlotta makes me sick. Her voice gives me a headache, yet she thinks she's God's gift to the world with the voice of a freaking angel.

"Gentlemen, Signora Carlotta Giudicelli, our leading soprano for five seasons now," Herr Baum introduced her. Signora Carlotta bowed and acted all happy and I rolled my eyes, turning my thoughts back to my own thoughts since I knew there was no way I could ever be needed in this conversation.

Think of me,

Think of me fondly

When we've said goodbye

Remember me

Once in a while

Please promise me you'll try

Signora Carlotta went on showing off her voice by singing the aria that I had practiced over and over again to myself, thinking of my friends back home…mainly only one.

When you find

That once again you long

To take your heart back-

As the diva was singing, out of nowhere, a backdrop came crashing down and fell right on top of her. Chorus members and dancers screamed and Meg grabbed my arm to pull me away from the danger zone of more falling objects.

"He's here – the phantom of the opera!" Meg gasped.

"The phantom of what…?" I asked, confused and scared at the same time.

"The ghost, newbie!" an older dancer scoffed mockingly to me. "The Opera ghost!"

"Opera ghost," I repeated skeptically. Why hadn't I heard of an 'Opera Ghost' sooner? Hello, I have lived here for how long and now is when they choose to tell me that this place is haunted?

"My dancers! Please!" Frau Schaefer scolded us.

"Signora, these things do happen," Monsieur Andre chuckled. Bad move, buddy. Bad, bad move….

"Si! These things to do happen! For the past three years these things do happen and did you stop them from happening? No!" Signora Carlotta snapped at Herr Baum then turned her attention to the new owners. "And you two; you are as bad as him! These things do happen; ugh! Until you stop of these happening, this thing does not happen! Ubaldo! Adiamo!"

And she finally left. I looked up and mouthed "thank you".

"Gentlemen, good luck. If you should need me, I shall be in Australia," Herr Lefevre left as well and now we were left in the hands of these two idiots.

"Sign-signora Giudi-Giudicelli…she-she will be c-coming back right?" Monsieur Andre asked Monsieur Reyer, who only shrugged.

I nudged Meg. "Good riddance to that-"

"Kristina Soloviova could sing it, sir," Frau Schafer spoke loudly; getting everyone's attention. Blood drained out of my already pale face. I could what…?

"A chorus girl? Don't be silly," Monsieur Firmin blew her off and I saw a small glimmer of hope of getting out of this.

Frau Schafer grabbed my arm and dragged me to the front center of the stage, in front of the two men. "Let her sing for you, messieurs. She has been well taught."

Monsieur Andre sighed. "Very well, then."

What? No. NO!

Monsieur Reyer tapped his music stand with his conductor's stick. "From the beginning of the aria, then would you please mam'zelle?"

I gulped, trying to swallow the huge lump in my throat. A swarm of butterflies filled my stomach. The piano started playing and I heard my part to fill in with the words.

Think of me

Think of me fondly

When we've said goodbye

Remember me

Once in a while

Please promise me you'll try

Silence behind me.

When you find

That once again you long

To take your heart back and be free

If you ever find a moment,

Spare a thought for me


It was amazing how different I looked, now out of my ballet costume and now in a dress that was floor length and pure white with stars and flowers covering the dress and my hair.

Think of all the things we've shared and seen

Don't think about the things which might have been

Think of me

Think of me waking

Silent and resign

Imagine me

Trying to hard to put you from my mind

Recall those days

Out of the corner of my eye, looking out across the huge crowd, I spotted a face I knew and hadn't seen in ages. I had to fight against myself to keep consciousness. Long, bronze-colored hair, lightly sun browned skin, hazel eyes…Geo? Georg Listing? Could it be…? I couldn't keep staring, since that would look beyond creepy if it was not Geo (my nickname I gave him), so I tried to focus on the lyrics of the aria.

Look back on all those times

Think of the things we'll never do

There will never be a day when I won't think

Of you!

I was singing for Geo now. Weather it was really him or just some sick joke my imagination was playing on me, wherever he may be now, I was singing for him.

We never said our love was evergreen

Or as unchanging as the sea

But please promise me that sometimes

You will think of me!

A loud applause went over the crowd. Most of the people stood. I dared to look over at the place where the Geo look-a-like had been and…no. There was no mistake; no look-a-like. Only a shocked look took over his angelic face and he was standing what looked to be on his toes and clapping like crazy.

"Brava!"

"Bravissima!"

"Stupenda!"

Random people started calling out things and a ton of roses and other flowers were thrown up on stage at my feet.

"Bella!" I heard some Italian guy call. "Bella!"

I smiled, recalling what my art teacher had told my class about Italian guys who screamed 'Bella' at a girl, though I couldn't drag my eyes away from a certain emerald pair that I was just about certain I'd never see again as long I lived. I picked up a few flowers that caught my eye and blew a kiss to the audience, smiling brightly only at my childhood sweetheart. I then proceeded to walk off the stage, and into the welcoming arms of my theatre comrades.

"Kristina! Brava!"

"Brava, Bella!"

"Brava! Brava! Brava!"

Frau Schafer pulled me away from this madness. "You did very well, my dear. We are all very pleased with you; especially our new patron whom, since you were our starring soprano, will meet later tonight."

For the first time since coming to the opera house, I actually saw approval in Frau Schafer's eyes for something I did. It was a good feeling and all, but I had bigger things on my mind.