This is what happens when I look at my friends' fan-drawings of Phantom of the Opera and hear snippets of conversations about school. All fear the crazy inspirations.
PAIRINGS: uhm…. . ; every one? I'm going to be true to the characters here, and what happens, happens. That's usually the way it goes. Except this time, I don't have a guide on who I want to end up with who. So it's a….SURPRISE!!
AUTHOR'S NOTE: THIS IS AN AU FANFICTION. That means that the characters are NOT the same as in the movie/books/play/whateverelsethereis. I modified characters (And somewhat their history) to fit in here. So, DON'T GET ANGRY if it's not perfect. The personalities should be pretty much the same, though. (Yay!)
Right. To work.
"Phantom of the High School"
Scene 1: MORNING
Ah, school. The classes, the people, the homework, the stress. Yes, there's nothing quite like school. Nowhere else does one see such a diverse and similar group under one roof for such masochistic reasons. What happens in High School…may very well scar you for life. Which is why so many are so stressed to make it such a positive situation.
Like me.
Christine looked up from her new notebook to the clock in front of her. She clicked her pink pen shut and put the small book away in her backpack before getting up and taking her dishes to the sink. Another school year had begun, and as usual, she expected to be on time. At least for the first day. Granted, she had been in a bit of a rush eating breakfast and brushing her teeth, yet somehow there was always time to write a short anecdote in her notebook before she took off to catch the bus.
Her Uncle had left earlier, as always, giving her a kiss on the cheek after she swallowed a spoonful of yogurt. Christine was neat and self-sufficient, cleaning up her dishes always after every meal. Life with her uncle wasn't terribly exciting, but it wasn't torture, or anything. Christine just… wasn't very passionate about her life. All of her childhood dreams of 'singing like one of the angels in Heaven' ended with her father's life. It was then that Christine realized the harshness of reality and really began to question whether any of the contributions she could give to the world would really be worth it.
Her Uncle worked for a music company, selling instruments, and had moved over the summer to open up a new store for them. He was getting a raise, but Christine honestly hated moving away from everything she knew: she was leaving behind all the friends that had been there for her all those years that she was coping with her father's death. What would there be for her here except loneliness?
When Christine looked at the clock again, she saw it was time to leave, so she quickly ran a brush through her hair one last time and slipped on her shoes and picked up her book bag as she went out the door. Right before she closed it, however, Christine peeked her head back inside. "I'm off to school…Father." There on the mantelpiece sat a picture of her father with his violin, smiling, six months before his death. It was a beautiful picture, and Christine liked to think that when she spoke to it like that, that her father was listening from Heaven.
Christine locked the door behind her and darted for the bus stop. This was going to be a long day.
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"You're going to be late again!"
"I KNOW, Mom! Just a minute! Lemme get this hair taken care of!" Every morning, it was a fight against bed head. Raoul didn't know why his hair loved to be messy on the most important days; it was so frustrating! With a snarl, he sprayed his hair again, praying it would stay where he combed it. Luckily, the super-hold spray worked. Raoul rolled his brown eyes and left the bathroom, storming down the stairs loudly.
"RAOUL!" His mother shouted. "How many times have I told you, DON'T STORM DOWN THE STEPS! You'll knock off the family portrait!" It seemed like Raoul was always running late, and he'd just storm down the stairs to make up for it. What he never realized, though, was that when he did this that the family portrait that hung on the wall below the stairs rattled precariously. Honestly, school mornings were a headache for Mrs. Chagny. First, she had to get Marie and Philippe out the door to go to elementary school, then came Raoul and his tardiness for high school, and if Georgine wasn't awake and screaming at the commotion these two events caused, it was a miracle. Surely, Mrs. Chagny wished for summer vacation much more than her children.
Raoul rushed into the kitchen and grabbed his bookbag, but was careful not to mess up his hair. It had taken so long to put into order, after all.
"Don't forget your breakfast and lunch money!" His mother told him, shoving the three dollars into his pocket and holding out a couple of granola bars.
"Okaymomthanks." Raoul said, picking up his breakfast, his eyes staring at his watch.
"And have a great first day." She said, sneaking in a kiss on the head before pushing him out the door.
"And make sure to flirt with lots of pretty girls!" Georgine called from the couch, watching cartoons until it was time for her to leave.
Raoul blushed lightly and told her to shut up before eventually succumbing to his mother's arms and stumbling out the door. "Bye guys!" He called, waving before he took off down the street, unwrapping the first granola bar and stuffing it into his mouth as his eyes fixated on his watch. It was a race against time, now. The bus driver was never late.
Mrs. Chagny sighed, leaning against the door. "Why do you tease your brother like that, Georgine?" She asked, exasperatedly. If Raoul hadn't been so late already, World War Seven would have started. They'd already gone through World Wars Three through Six.
"Because I can." She said obsequiously. "And besides, I know he never will." She answered with a grin. "He's way too shy."
Mrs. Chagny just sighed and massaged her head. Another day… Another long day…
