The Phantom of the Opera belongs to Gaston Leroux. I steadfastly refuse to explain how/why this Mary Sue got stuck in Christine's body or how she now speaks French. Mostly because I don't know. If you absolutely insist on some form of reasoning the best thing I can dredge up on the spur of the moment involves a Ouija board and Marie Laveau's pissed off spirit. I make no profit from writing this, and it should be very apparant why.
Chapter 1- Identity Crisis
Jennifer slowly opened her eyes and was immediately confused. Surrounding her were a throng of people, mostly men, all wearing very out of date tuxedos. A middle aged gentleman smiled at her and patted her hand. "Are you feeling better now, miss?"
Although she understood what the man had said, something wasn't quite right. It didn't sound correct.
"Miss?" The man looked slightly concerned by the blank, dazed look on the woman's face. "You fainted. Right in the middle of the stage. Are you all right?" He turned to a young man with sandy hair and a thin mustache who was anxiously peering over the older gentleman's shoulder. "Probably nerves. Make sure she relaxes and eats something before she retires for the evening."
"Who the hell are all of you people?!" Jennifer was quite confused. She'd gone to bed in her own room. She remembered that quite clearly. Looking around the room she was in now, she was even more confused. It was relatively small. There was a gas lamp affixed to one wall and another sitting on a dressing table. She, herself, was lounged on an old fashioned couch. The whole place looked like one of those stupid historic houses her mother loved to tour so much!
At the sharpness and language of her outburst the crowd of onlookers drew back, aghast. The young man with the sandy hair seemed slightly confused, but was quite to assure everyone "She's only tired. Perhaps she should have some rest." He gave her a warm smile.
Jennifer looked at the young man. "Where am I? Who are you?"
The older man spoke. "It's all right, Miss Daae. You're back in your dressing room. You fainted after your performance, but I'm confidant that you will be fine. I am Doctor Lemarque, the rest of these good gentlemen are your admirers. You gave them quite the scare, miss."
The younger gentleman smiled at her again. "I am Raoul. I suppose it was rather presumptive of me to think you might have remembered me after so many years. We used to be great friends, and I still remember your father very fondly."
Again the blank expression crossed the young woman's features. Daae....Daae. A small smile began to creep over her lips as she leapt haphazzardly into a conclusion. She held back an urge to laugh and squee all at once. She didn't know how it happened, but apparently she was now stuck smack in the middle of her favourite story! She looked at Raoul with a bit of a frown. He didn't look at ALL like Patrick Wilson. But that was ok, because Raoul was not the one she was interested in."
"Of course. I was just a little out of it there, for a minute. Yeah, sure I remember you. I remember you were a huge fop! Now get out of my dressing room!" She pointed imperiously at the door, giggling like mad in her mind.
Raoul looked at her as though she had struck him. "Yes. Well. I suppose neither of us are the children we were once. I beg your forgiveness, miss." And with that, he sadly left the room.
The doctor gave her a concerned look and began ushering everyone from the room. She was not this strange normally. Once in the hall he clapped Raoul on the shoulder and spoke reassuringly. "I don't recognize her this evening. She's ordinarily so gentle. Perhaps it would be best to wait and speak with her once she is feeling better."
Once everyone had left Jennifer hopped up from the couch and began laughing hysterically.
Abruptly, she stopped at the sound of a voice. "Are you feeling quite well, my dear?"
A manic grin lightened her features. "Oh, perfectly well, my Angel." Again she giggled to herself.
There was a slight pause, as though the owner of the voice was evaluating just whether or not he chose to believe her. "Are you very tired?"
"Nope. Not in the least!" She appraised the mirror critically. Maybe if she stared hard enough she could get a look at his outline in there. She caught sight of her attire in the glass and was horrified! She looked like she had escaped from some Rennaisance faire! Where was her silky robe? Her sexy corset? Her long white stockings? And why in the name of God was she blond?! "Angel of Music! Guide and gaurdian, grant to me your glory!"
Another pause. "You're quite sure you're feeling yourself. There seems to be something...different about you this evening."
"No, no! I'm fine! Just psyched about how awesome I was on stage tonight!" Jennifer considered simply calling him out. Letting him know that she already knew he was totally the Phantom and that she didn't care. But she found she could not deprive herself of the thrill of being 'kidnapped' by such a mysterious hunk. "You know, Angel. I've been thinking that I would really ilove/i to see you. I mean, even if you didn't look exactly like you would think that an angel would, I'd be totally ok with that."
"The way that you're speaking is very strange. You didn't cause yourself any harm when you fell, did you? Perhaps you've hit your head...."
"Dammit, Eric I'm fine!" Oops. (Note: I know you can't really hear her pronouncing the C instead of the K, but that's how it's spelled in her mind)
This time the pause was longer. She almost feared that he had left. "I take it the Persian has spoken to you!" The voice, which had been so etherial and gentle moments before was now harsh and filled with venom. It was a little disturbing. "What else has he told you, hm? The wretch! The interfering fool! What did he tell you of me?!"
The voice was filled with an almost palpable rage. Suddenly, this little fantasy wasn't quite so fun anymore. Even worse, Jennifer didn't really know what to say. She had no idea who this Persian was! But she couldn't think of anything to do or say that would explain how she knew his name.
"Well?"
"He told me....Uhm, he told me...." Immediately the struck upon a thought. "He told me that you used to be stuck in this awful carnival and that you were beaten and that you were really really smart and talented! And now I think I'm in love with you because it doesn't matter to me why you were in a freakshow, because your music is so beautiful and you're probably a really sweet and caring guy deep down and just misunderstood!"
"You love me?" The rage had gone from the voice, replaced by a sheer disbelief. "For myself? What I've done, what I look like. They truly do not matter?"
"No, of course not! Let me see you and I'll prove it!" Jennifer was filled with confidence and elation. Honestly, people were so stupid. It wasn't like he was THAT deformed. I mean, if you just look at him from the one side you wouldn't even notice! She heard a soft click and the mirror slid open.
All of her bravado and glee melted from her features when she saw the true form of her "Angel". He was tall and dark all right, but the handsome was missing. The man revealed to her was not the beefcake she had envisioned. He was thin. So much so that his clothes hung from his frame in a kind of creepy way. The small white mask she had expected was instead black and covered his whole face. The eyes revealed behind the only openings in the fabric were not the gorgeous green she had expected, but rather dully gleaming yellow. She heard him growl at her as the colour drained from her cheeks. "I should have known! I should have never let myself be swayed by your pretty words!" He reached for her and she stumbled back, though not fast enough to escape the cold vice-like grip of his hand on her arm. He drew her towards him and she opened her mouth to shriek, but his other hand clamped down over her lips and silenced her. "Liar!" He snarled. Then he began to laugh. It was tinged with madness and chilling to hear. Jennifer began to tremble. "Not what you expected, eh? No, I suppose such an innocent mind as yours would have trouble conjuring up something as frightful as I am!"
Jennifer kicked out at him, but he ignored her struggles and pulled her into the dark passage behind the mirror with him. This was wrong! This was not romantic or sexy! It was terrifying! This was not the way things were supposed to happen!
End chapter 1