New story; hopefully, it'll finish unlike all the others i have going *sigh* Okay, disclaimer time. I am not lucky enough to be the owner of any form of rights to the Phantom of the Opera. I'm just a fan speaking her imagination. FLAMES ARE ACCEPTED!

ACT ONE-START
Scene One

Alexia Christine Munroe didn't care for the regal designs of the Opera Populaire. She didn't care for the modern day uses. She didn't care how many times the chandelier of the auditorium was replaced. She cared only about its past… and the legendary ghost behind the disasters that lingered there. A disastrous history which, regrettably, the tour guide would not go into, no matter how many questions. So, she blared her music and made it look like she was somewhat interested by looking up from time to time.

She found herself regretting ever coming to Paris when her class took a quick lunch break. She silently cursed her parents, having convinced her to go on the week long field trip in the first place. It was an end of the year visit to Paris that the school had apparently been doing for... well, for a long time. She had been intrigued about visiting the opera house that was home to the Phantom of the Opera. She had always been intrigued about the legend, wondering if he was real. But no matter how hard she tried, no information of the lake, hidden passages, or the Phantom himself came up.

Looking up from her sandwich, she sighed heavily and turned the volume up on her MP3 player. One of the jocks, Kevin Burkhart, had a black jacket around his shoulders. He ran around the room they were in, jumping in front of people in an attempt to scare them. He had a mask made out of notebook paper on his face.

"I am Le Fantôme De L'Opéra!" He cackled. "Beware, cherie. I'm a daaaangerous man!" He threw his make-shift cloak over the heads of classmates before running over to Alexia. "I will rape you in the night… and then steal you away when you wake." He hissed into her ear before cackling and running.

Alexia could only shiver in revulsion. The simple thought of Kevin speaking to her made her sick. He had been too close for her comfort, but she remained silent. Suddenly, a dark skinned brunette sitting next to her twin spoke up chidingly.

"You're an idiot, Kevin." She sighed, almost teasingly.

That comment made him halt and turn. "Huh, Elaine? Want to elaborate on that?" He sneered.

"Even if it's a legend, legends have some truth in them. What if Le Fantôme De L'Opéra was real? For all we know, his ghost is still here. And you, the idiot, are mocking… no, insulting his namesake. His legacy!" She rolled her eyes. "If you end up getting hanged, it's not our fault." She started to sing dramatically and professionally.

You must be always on your guard,
Or he will catch you with his magical lasso.
For those who speak of what they know,
Find to late that prudent silence is wise.
Kevin Burkhart, hold your tongue,
He will burn you with the heat of his eyes.

Kevin could only snort out a laugh. "Whatever. Ghosts don't exist, clone. But if you think that, maybe you should chase him away."

Elaine started to rise when her twin, Sara, grabbed her shoulder. "Calm, mon cherie. It's fine. Le Fantôme won't come." Everyone raised a brow. "Le Fantôme won't waste his time killing such an idiot. It'll be bad for his rep." People chuckled while Kevin turned red under the paper mask. "But Le Fantôme won't come for another reason. He won't come unless the pure bloodline of his unrequited lover, Christine Daae, is present. But that's a sliver of a chance plus no one has the last name here."

Alexia cleared her throat involuntarily. That was untrue. Daae had been her grandmother's maiden name. When she noticed everyone's eyes on her, a blush crawled into her ivory skin. "Um, my grandmother was a Daae, actually." She mumbled.

Sara chuckled. "That doesn't mean a damn thing. After all, the bloodline must be pure… meaning a virgin. Which you obviously aren't."

Alexia flinched at Sara's words.

Elaine picked up the insult. "We've all heard the stories. You sneak into graveyards and screw guys there. You're a fat, creepy, gothic who-"

"Come on, kids! Break's over!" The teacher called.

Everyone rose, but not before whispers scattered through the crowd, all about Alexia. The accused paused a moment before getting to her feet. The rumor was untrue but unstoppable. She had paid a visit to her grandmother's grave one day and had run into a guy. They got talking and left the graveyard together. A girl from school had seen and the rumor spread like wildfire, leaving an incurable scar. Alexia maxed the volume on her MP3 player and kept walking.

Movement caught her eye and she turned to Thomas Cook and Alice Giry, her only two friends. They could hear her music and silently took place by her side. They were dedicated friends who shared her silence and abuse from rumors. All three dressed in similar colors, so not to be 'part of the crowd'. They had been linked the moment Alexia arrived at their school six years ago after a move from the United States.

Alexia paused to glare at one of the mirrors that seemed to be stupidly placed in every other hall. Her frame seemed bigger than it was due to her overlarge hoodie and bulky combat boots. Cargo pants sheathed her long legs. Under her hoodie, she wore a grey tank top. Her dark brown hair was pulled into a messy bun, loose locks falling to her face and neck. She grimaced for a moment, wanting the group to keep moving. The guide chose then to speak about the towering ceiling and the paintings adorning it. She shook her head and pinched the bridge of her nose.

Christine…

Alexia jumped and looked at Alice. "What?"

Alice turned her sapphire orbs to Alexia's topaz ones. "I didn't say anything."

"Thomas?" Alexia turned to him. He shook his head silently.

Alexia was confused; Christine was her middle name and Thomas and Alice were the only people who called her that. No one else talked to her in school, let alone knew her middle name. Above all, she was blaring her music and yet she heard the voice as if all was silent. She looked in the mirror again and, for a moment, she saw a black clad man standing in her place. But in a blink of an eye, he vanished.

Her heart lurched. What was going on?

Alexia grabbed the curtains of the hotel room. Glancing at Paris one last time, she closed them and turned. Her white nightgown shifted as she walked to one of the bed's. One was occupied by another chaperone. Alice was propped up in the other bed, staring at her intently. The man in the mirror hadn't shown up since the opera house, but Alexia felt a lingering presence and heard intelligible whispers. It was bothering her as she slipped under the covers and towards Alice. Alice was a graduating senior, three years older than Alexia. It was obvious of their sister-like bond, Alice being the protective elder. Alexia sighed heavily and curled up.

Christine… why…

A deep shiver ran down her spine. The voice… was she going mad? Familiar, warm hands wrapped around her back and she was pulled into Alice's chest. Comforting words spoken in French were whispered into her ear. She turned up to look at Alice.

"I'm going insane…" She whispered.

"Non, mon cherie. You're fine, Christine." Alice crooned.

Christine!

Alexia gasped and jumped out of the bed. She struggled for breath as she curled up on the striped chair in the corner. Alice was by her side in moments, stroking her back tenderly. Alexia was handed two pills and a glass of water. 'Nyquil' was printed on the pills. Alexia forced them down her throat and took calming breaths. As the medicine kicked in, her eyelids started to fall. The voice had finally disappeared.

She didn't remember Alice putting her to bed.