Author's Note: Hey ya'll! This is just a little something I came up with after watching the Phantom movie. That movie makes me cry every single time! *Sniff sniff.* Its nothing special, just a little one-shot I wrote when I was really supposed to be doing math homework...ugh. Please enjoy!

Sadly, I do not own the Phantom (but I borrow him on weekends!)JKJKJK!!!

I knew I shouldn't have taken that job as the prima donna at the Opera Populaire. When I saw the flyer, I was walking around Paris when it caught my eye. It said:

Do you need some fun added to your dull life and you look like a curly-haired bimbo who can sing but has absolutely no common sense whatsoever? Well here's your chance! Stop by the Opera Populaire and try out and see if you have any talent!

I was like, hey that looks cool, and I auditioned, and apparently, I have major pwnage on stage. The seamstresses started fitting me in a rib-breaking dress as soon as the owners gave the okay. As they measured my torso, I spoke up. "Hey, why did you just randomly hold auditions for, like, the biggest role in the opera?"

The head seamstress smiled up at me. "That's because our old understudy, Christine Daae, was so stupid, she forgot how to breathe at rehearsals and fell over like a tree." She said it so calmly, that it sounded like it happened all the time.

"Well, then what happened to the one before the understudy?" I asked a little shakily.

"Oh, Carlotta you mean?" she asked darkly.

"Yeah… I guess," I said, getting ready for another death.

"She quit!" she replied with a sudden cheer.

"Oh," I said, letting out a huge breath.

"And then she died. Her singing was so terrible, that people from the sanatorium broke out and strangled her in her sleep. Then they chopped her head of and ran down the streets, swinging it around by the hair."

I didn't know whether to scream, laugh, or crawl into a corner and cry, so I did a little of all three.

Millions of rehearsals and bad tasting meals later, I was back stage getting ready for the very first opera with the new owners. I couldn't help but panic a little bit over the show.

"What's wrong, Elizabeth?" Madame Giry asked, putting a comforting hand on my shoulder.

"Well, I'm just scared that they won't like my singing."

"You know, Liz," Madame Giry started. "If you miss just one note, then they will all take turns skinning you and let you die a slow, agonizing death, and you may never see loved ones again. Let alone, the light of day, but no pressure!" She skipped off to her dancers.

I whimpered and went into fetal position for the remaining ten minutes.

"Mademoiselle DuPont! Get to your place on stage!" someone called to me. I stood up and took my place on the frighteningly large stage and took a deep breath.

I sat in the plush chair inside the Prima Donna's dressing room, muttering nonsense to myself. I was still traumatized from the show. Everything went great, actually perfect for me, but not for poor little Christelle. They slit her throat. The blood got on my dress and it wouldn't come out.

The door opened, but I ignored it in hopes that they would leave or do a tap dance.

"Little Lottie let her mind wander. Little Lottie thought: am I fonder of dolls, goblins, or shoes?" The voice said warmly.

My brows furrowed. "Who the hell are you?" I turned around in my chair to see an extremely girly man with blonde, bouncy hair and a feminine face. Ah, the opera's patron, I thought.

"I-it's me Christine. I'm Raoul; you're childhood sweetheart, the one who'll sweep you off of your feet!" He twirled around and giggled. God, he was so gay.

"Look dude, sorry to disappoint you, but I'm Elizabeth, not Christine. She died a while back."

"Elizabeth? Pfft, you're Christine, silly! Quit playing jokes on me!" Raoul batted his lashes flirtatiously. Wait, was he wearing mascara?

"I am not Christine! Just because we have the same hair doesn't mean we're the same person!" I said firmly, trying to get the point across. I guess it takes a while for the words to sink through all the makeup.

"Christine, act your age! I'm not so stupid that I wouldn't know my best friend if I saw her!'

"Apparently you are, dipwad," I muttered under my breath before standing up. "Look, just get out and we'll pretend that none of this ever happened and go on with our lives."

He ran over to me and put me in a bear-hug. "I'm not leaving without you! We were going to go to that new Gucci store and have a shopping spree!"

I grabbed him by the hair and gave it a painful yank. "Get the hell off me, dammit! Just go act like a little fop somewhere far, far away from me!" I screamed before kicking him out of my room.

"I'll call you!" I heard through the door.

I collapsed back into my chair and massaged my temples.

Insolent boy! The slave of fashion basking in your glory! A man's voice boomed in the room.

"Whoa, when did the opera install surround sound in here?" I said aloud, eating a cookie.

Ignorant fool! This brave young suitor, sharing in my triumph!

Something inside told me that it wasn't surround sound, seeing as the 21st century didn't exist yet and the authoress was simply too lazy to explain why the 1800's had surround sound in the first place.

"Alright! If this isn't surround sound, then what's going on? I swear to god, if this is you Raoul, I will find you and KILL you!" I shouted into the empty air.

Flattering child you shall know me, see why in shadow I hide. Look at your face in the mirror. I am there inside!

"When did I ever flatter you?" I asked the voice. "And why would you be inside the mirror?" I added, peeking at the huge life sized mirror by me.

In almost too perfect timing, a man in all black crashed through the mirror and did an epic face-plant. It's a good thing the carpet is padded, I thought.

"Smooth move, X-lax," I blurted. He looked up at me. Half of his face was all deformed and weird looking.

"Dude, there's something on your face…" I said, pointing.

A gloved hand flew up to the right side of his face. "Shit! Where's my mask?!" He crawled around searching for his mask. Organ music blared from the hidden hallway behind my mirror.

"John, don't start playing yet! I told you to start playing when I gave you the signal! And did I give you the signal yet?" The man shouted, his deformed face looking even scarier.

A guy on a wheeled organ poked his head out from the hallway. "Sorry boss, just following the storyline. Let me know when you're ready."

As I watched all of this happen to me, I began to wonder if this was because of that LSD I stole from one of the stagehands' rooms. I found a white mask by my feet and picked it up. "Hey is this yours?" I asked.

He looked up and let out a sigh. "Oh thank heavens you found it!" he snatched it up and smacked it on his face before standing back up. "Ahem. I am your Angel of Music, my dear Christine. Come with me into my dark abode." He held out his hand.

"Oh God, not you too!" I cried, throwing my hands in the air.

"What's wrong, Christine?"

"I'm Eliz—you know what? Forget it! I'll come with you," I sighed, grabbing his hand.

The Angel of Music flailed his limbs uncontrollably for a second before regaining his sexy, yet mysterious air. John started the organ up.

I look up at him. "That was the signal? Seriously?"

"Pretty sweet, huh? You don't have to tell me that I'm awesome."

When I opened my mouth to say a smart-assed comment, he put a finger to my lips. "Sshh, don't speak, just sing."

I sighed heavily. This was going to be a long night.

Reviews would be nice. Don't put anything mean! Please? *Pokes at the green button, looks at you with puppy dog eyes, then proceeds to poke it*