A Modern Day Madness

Disclaimer: I do not own Phantom of the opera, or it's characters.

New York City has come a long way from its darker times. What once was crowded, dirty and cold, was now a warm clean place for tourists and big spenders. One of the more prominent spots for tourists was the well-known time square, which was also known as the heart of the theatre district. Among the hustle and the bustle of these fine theatre folk was young rising star. Her charm and good looks got her past other girls, but it was her voice that had put her on the stages.

Her name was Christine Daae. She was only twenty-six years old, and was already singing on Broadway with the likes of Michael Crawford. Her hair was long and shimmering blonde, her eyes a light and blue. Her lips were cherry red and her skin was as white as porcelain. Anyone might find this natural beauty so luring, but in today's society, that wouldn't be so. The other women in the theatre teased her for not tanning enough, or doing more things with her hair. The things women will say to make themselves feel better.

On this night, Christine was just finishing a very late rehearsal for a new musical titled 'Faust'. The managers insisted that doing something as old as Faust and trying to make it modern would definitely rake in the cash. There were some nights where Christine felt her bosses were tone deaf from hearing the constant 'ka-ching' of the cash registers in their minds.

Christine walked down the damp dark streets of New York, which were still pretty busy considering the time of night. It was always like this for at least a few more blocks, right about the border of the tourist area would things start to get sketchy. The streets were more disserted and people were more cautious. You could say this was the ghetto part of New York, the part of town where the young rising star happened to live because she couldn't afford anything else. Christine started to turn onto a darker street when something caught her eye. It was a tall man with sandy blond hair and a well trimmed mustache.

"Raoul?" Her voice chimed out into the night air. The man turned his head sharply to see who had called to him. His eyes widened at the very site of Christine and he hurried over to her without any delay.

"Christine!" He breathed as he took in the site of her. "You have grown up!"

"So have you." Christine laughed lightly as she gestured to his mustache.

"It's had to have been at least ten or fifteen years." Raoul smiled and shoved a hand comfortably into his pocket.

"About twelve." Christine stated, and then looked at the ground awkwardly for sounding so obsessed.

"Twelve years?" Raoul looked up into the sky seeming almost amazed. "Well you've really grown into yourself, I must say. You no longer look like that scrawny fourteen year old girl I had to retrieve scarves for." He gave her a wink and Christine covered the smile that quickly spread across her face with her hand.

"I didn't want to get my feet wet…"

"It was California, you were crazy to not want to get in the water!" Raoul laughed. "But if I had of never ran in for that scarf I would have never met you…"

"And never would have so easily forgotten me." Christine said her smile now fading from her face.

"Oh now," Raoul began as he tried to stand up for himself. "I had to leave California, you know my father needed to be here in this city. He was a Wall Street man. I never ever forgot you…" Christine looked at the ground awkwardly before deciding she was ready to go home.

"Well it's getting pretty late…"

"How about dinner tomorrow?" Raoul said quickly. " Let's say, Le Bernardin at seven?" Christine pushed her hair out from her face and blushed.

"Alright, seven… see you then Raoul." Christine smiled brightly to herself as she walked down her dark street and into the night. She walked for ten or twenty minutes humming the tune of her first part in Faust. Then a sudden stir behind her made her paranoid. Her blue eyes darted around her sharply and her steps began to get faster. She would not allow herself to be one of the many women who are mugged or raped on a dark street in New York. She clutched her purse close to her side with one hand firmly clenching a can of bear mace. You can never be too careful.

Christine heard someone breathing very heavily behind her, almost as if they were breathing right in her ear. She screeched and quickly sprayed the bear mace behind her and tried to run. The young singer was stopped so abruptly that her brain shook inside her head. She felt bony fingers clutching her arms and she looked straight up into two burning embers where eyes should have been. She screamed till her lungs felt as though they would burst, and then everything went black.

A/N: I feel as if I haven't written anything in a year… that's because I haven't. Oh how I miss venting my frustrations into lame fanfictions. The idea for this came to me when I was remembering a part in Gaston Leroux's novel in which Erik is losing his shit and talking in third person, and I thought to myself 'What a crazy wack-job… we lock people up for stuff like that…' and so came the idea for this dreadful fanfiction. Criminal minds has got nothing on this guy. Baaaaayum.

Sorry for the short intro paragraph… leave a review and let me know if this is a good start or what. Thanks guys!

-Teenfox