Authors note:

I refuse to use non-country names, so you'll have to put up with Italy this and Italy that. Also, no gender bending. All credit for Hetalia and Phantom of the Opera go to their respective creators. Please review and enjoy:)

Characters: Christine- Italy, Phantom- Germany, Madam Giry- Hungary, Meg Giry- Japan, Maestro Reyer- Austria, Raoul- France, Monsieur Firmin- America, Monsieur Andre- England, Carlotta- Romano, Ubaldo- Spain

The stadge was crowded with singers, dancers, props, and a plethera of who knows what else. The only thing out of the ordinary were two strange men.

"Welcome to your new opera." China said handing England the keys.

"You can rest assured knowing that the opera is in good hands."

"Dude this is awesome! We get our own, what is it, oh right, opera!" America energetically announced.

"Well take good care of her.-aru" China responded over his shoulder, as he walked away.

Rehearsal had stopped during the intrusion by the new owners, and, Madam Hungary, true to her nature, was itching to get back on track. "Monsieur's, we're in the middle of rehearsal, so, if you don't mind, would you kindly leave the stage?"

"Why of course, but who are you?" Responded England.

"I am Madam Hungary, head ballet instructor and choreographer."

"Oh, then you will be happy to meet our newly hired head of marketing," England paused as a man walked up behind him "France, this is Madam Hungary. Madam, this is France."

Madam Hungary curtsied, acknowledged France, and afterwards completely ignored him.

While conversation between Hungary and the new owners ensued the singers and dancers began to talk amongst themselves. For the most part every one was saying the same thing, a collective "who's getting fired first". The only two who weren't worried about there jobs were Japan and Italy. Well, Italy wasn't worried, Japan on the other hand...

"The new owners are probably thinking of who to fire right now."

"No Japan, there nice, they wouldn't fire anyone, we're like a great big family here."

"Maybe, but I have a bad felling."

"It's fine Japan."

Just as Japan tried to reply he was interrupted by a now slightly worried Italy

"Is that, oh no it is."

"What?"

"That's France." Italy's worry was painted all over his face.

"Why, what is wrong with France?" asked a thoroughly confused Japan.

"We used to be childhood friends, I wonder if he'll even recognize me."

"If you were friends then why are you worried?"

"Well... you know."

"No, I don't."

Italy's hastily put together would-be reply was interrupted by the loud, indignant, and annoying, cry of Romano, the current premadonna.

"What is this! I demand a RASSBERY tart! Not this strawberry nonsense! And you, get out of my way! Move! You stupid toads! Why do I even put up with you, I'm to good for this!"

By this time every body had cleared an all to familiar pathway that Romano would expect. While everyone was distracted by the tie raid a cloaked figure strided soundlessly through the rafters, a message gripped loosely in his gloved hand.

In the quietest corner of the stage a nondescript black-bordered, wax sealed envelope was found. The envelope quickly found its way into the hands of Madam Hungary.

"Monsieur's, I do believe that this is for you." She said handing the envelope to America.

"Wow, is that skull in the wax?" America said, gawking at the seal.

"Don't just stare at it all day, open it." England prodded America

"Ok, ok hold your horses."

America broke the red wax seal and pulled out a cream-white piece of parchment. The note, though short, was enough to send America into a tizzy.

"What does it say?" England, wanting to know what could possibly be written, grabbed the letter and began to read. The note said:

Dear Monsieur's,

Having bought my opera you should be informed that I expect my salary, my usual seat in box 5 be reserved, that my cast be left alone in there work, and for you to immediately discarded of that insult to opera Romano.

-O.G.