A/N: Hey everybody! Sorry it took me a bit longer to update this, but I've somehow managed. Before you read, I want to establish two things-
1-This story will not have a happy ending. If anything, it's going to be bittersweet. I may do a sequel,
2-If you want to know what Anya is like, put these characters in a blender-Jay Gatsby(The Great Gatsby), Satine(Moulin Rouge), Lenin and Anna(Anna Karenina). Those are her 4 main bases, she will be more developed as the story goes on. Enjoy!

I stand here, holding the iPhone in his face, hoping he'll believe me. Seriously. I know I'm crazy-in a good way-but the last thing I want is to be thought of as insane by Erik. He slowly nods at me before opening his mouth to speak, but what comes out is not what I expect-

"What is this device?" I blink. "It's an iPhone." Erik raises an eyebrow. "Eye-fone?" I giggle. "No, Erik, it's a communication device. You use it to talk to people." He takes it from me, looking at it in bewilderment. "That painting..." he jabs his finger at the screen. The screensaver is of a cream background with The Greatest Thing You'll Ever Learn Is Just To Love And Be Loved In Return in green cursive.

"It's not a painting, Erik. It's a photograph." "But...it's in color?" "Did you not just read the time on that? I'm from 2012!" "I suppose there would be technological advances..." "Yes, yes. Can I have it back?" He hands it back to me, a little reluctantly. and I put it in my pocket with the pistol. "How did you get here?" I shrug helplessly. "I fell asleep on a couch backstage, and then I woke up here...to tell you the truth, I don't know if I'm really here, Erik, or if I'm just dreaming, or if I'm drunk." "I can assure you, Anya, I am completely real. You said you fell asleep backstage, are you a dancer?" I shake my head. "I can dance some ballet, but it's not my top priority. I'm better at singing and acting." He smiles a bit. "I could tell you had practice when you sang. You're a very good alto." I blink dumbly. Two of life's goals complete today-get complimented by a fictional character, and block someone's 'surprise' attack. "Oh, th-thank you." "Which is why I have a little deal for you." I raise an eyebrow and look at him sideways. "Keep talking..."

Now, you might be wondering why the hell I would be making a deal with a highly dangerous man that I just met minutes ago. One, I know how to evade his attacks. And two, I have a reputation in 2012 New York-I'm Anya freaking Oyen, and I never back down from anything. And even if I'm thrown in another world, hell, I'm keeping it up.

"Would you like lessons?" I think my face has just went the color of my hair. I was not expecting that.

"...what's the catch?"

"Oh, I just need someone as an extra pair of eyes in the Opera House..." He calls THAT a catch? Are you kidding me? I would KILL FOR THAT!

"You, my friend, have a deal." We shake on it. "Hang on. How will I be explained?" Erik thinks for a moment, his brow furrowed. "I'll send a message to Madame Giry, explaining everything," he says, sitting down at his desk and starting to write. I come up behind him and put my hands on the back of his chair. "Yeah, but how do you explain a girl wandering around the back of the Opera House, huh?" He stops and lifts his head, turning it to me slowly, a wicked little smirk on his face. "Anya, are you good at playing unconscious?" "Yes." "How are you so sure?" I literally double over laughing. "Erik, in my play, I have to faint and fall out of a swing 20 feet in the air and I have to pretend to die of consumption. I think I got this." He smiles. "I guess you do. So, we say you're an American actress?" "Yes," I say, walking around his lair some more.

"What's that you're humming?" "Oh," I say in surprise, ducking out of his room with the possessed monkey (A/N: Seriously, that thing scares me to death.) I realize I was humming Children of the Revolution. "One of the songs from my play." "What is this play, exactly?" "It's called Moulin Rouge." (What? Favorite movie of all time. BELONGS TO BAZ LUHRMANN. Do you really think I would be writing this if I owned it?) "It's a play about the nightclub?" I shrug. "I didn't write it. I play the lead girl." "...sing me a song she sings." I purse my lips-Sparkling Diamonds or One Day I'll Fly Away? Meh. Go with the slower, softer one. I open my mouth and sing-

I follow the night, can't stand the light

When will I begin to live again?

One day I'll fly away, leave all this to yesterday

What more could your love do for me? When will love be through with me?

Erik stops writing and just listens. I stand right in the middle, between the water and his organ. For a moment, as I glance down at the floor, an image flashes before my eyes-the floors scarlet red and wet, Erik's unmasked face looking up in horror, a girl clad in black lying in the red. Then it vanishes, and the floor is back to normal. I continue-

Why live life from dream to dream?

And dread the day when dreaming ends?

One day I'll fly away! Leave all this-to yesterday!

Why live life from dream to dream?!

And dread the day...when dreaming...ends...?

One day, I'll fly away...fly...fly...away...

Erik turns and grins at me. "Bravo!" I laugh. "Thanks. Are you done with that?" "Yes. Come now." He extends his hand to me as he walks down, I take it, and he leads me to the boat. As we pull out of his lair, I look at where I was standing, and I swear it looks red. I fear too early, for my mind misgives some consequence...yet hanging in the stars, shall bitterly begin his fearful date..of despised life enclosed...by some vile forfeit of untimely death. But he who has steerage of my course, direct my suit. "Were you saying something, Anya?" Erik asks, concern in his dark green eyes. "No," I reply sweetly. He turns back to his course. On, masked gentleman.

About 5 minutes later, I'm hiding in the shadows of an entrance to Erik's lair while he goes and drops the note for Madame Giry. From what I can tell, I'm near the ballet dorms. I say that because I hear girly giggles and talking. Kind of reminds me of high school. A hand suddenly closes on my shoulder. "It's me!" Erik hisses in my ear. "Did she get it?" I whisper, turning to look at him. He nods. "She's ready for your arrival." He looks cautiously out the door. "It's empty, but I hear some girls coming. When Madame Giry knocks thrice on wood, open your eyes." Then, unexpectedly, he smiles. "Put on a show." I wink and grin at him. "I'll come and visit you later, I promise," I say, and then I step outside, shoving the gun and iPhone as far into my pocket as they will go.

I gasp for air a few times before falling to the ground with a very loud thump, closing my eyes and opening my mouth slightly. The sound of feet running in my direction stop suddenly, and I hear a whole lot of girls screaming. The sounds of more people running approaches. Apparently, the girls feel the need to still scream in horror. Suddenly, I'm hoisted up by my armpits and Madame Giry says over the commotion, "Take her to my office, Collette, Jean, watch her." And just like that, I'm being dragged off to her office by a pair of strong arms. I slit open my eyes-barely-and see, far up in the rafters, Erik smirking. I close my eyes and hang by head. Boy, am I gonna have fun with this.

A/N: So, how was that? Anyway, that little monologue that Anya has in her head is taken from Romeo and Juliet, Act 1, Scene 4. It's when Romeo is heading to a Capulet celebration and thinks that something bad will happen because of him going to the party. I don't own Moulin Rouge, Romeo and Juliet, or One Day I'll Fly Away. Moulin and 1 Day [...] belong to Baz Luhrmann. Romeo and Juliet belong to Shakespeare.

R+R, I promise I'll get the next chapter up sooner!