Hey guys. This'll be the last chapter of the story. I hope you enjoyed it. Just to let you know, I have nothing against white people. I am, in fact, white. So please know that Nicole's views on white people do not reflect those of the author. Her views on the Phantom's left eyebrow, however, do. Thank you.

"I am going to kill them," Nicole growled. "Damn men and their dirty minds!"

She took another pained glance at her reflection and the tiny dress that her role apparently required. "Who knew they even wore stuff like this in 1850s Paris?"

"They do in operas called Don Juan Triumphant: The Story of a Notorious Pimp," Raoul said, coming out of nowhere.

"How do you do that?" Nicole exclaimed, once she got her breath back.

Raoul shrugged modestly. "Talent."

"Yeah, great. Why do I have to wear this stupid dress again?"

"Because that's the way the Phantom wrote it, and since we want him to come…"

Nicole groaned. "I knew the guy was a perv."

Raoul shrugged. "Hey, I think it looks good on you."

"Yeah, thanks." Nicole looked up. "Oh great, I've got to go. Show's starting."

"Break a leg."

Nicole stood on the stage awkwardly, and began to sing the first song., which apparently had something to do with what a bad, bad girl the character was. God, what kind of freak wrote this? she wondered. It's so… so… aagh! I hate this dress!

Suddenly, a mysterious masked figure stole out from the shadows and began to sing with her. Nicole looked at him from the corner of her eyes. Who is that guy? He can't sing to save his life. She inched over closer to him as the song reached his climax. I have to know who he is! I'll just take off his mask and—

Nicole moved closer… closer… finally, seeing her opportunity, she ripped the mask off the man's face, and gasped. "Raoul?"

"No!" Raoul covered his face. "I am the pervert who appeared in your mirror, and—"

"Oh, who are you kidding? You're totally Raoul," Nicole interrupted angrily. "Did you write this whole opera just to see me in this dress? And did you write those stalker notes?"

"Er—"

"YOU F***ING PERVERT!!!!! I CAN'T BELIEVE I EVER F***ING WENT OUT WITH YOU!!!! TRUST A F***ING WHITE GUY TO DO SOMETHING LIKE THIS!!!!! GET OUT BEFORE I TURN YOU INTO A F***ING GIRL!!!!!!"

Raoul fled, Nicole throwing sharp objects at him the whole way.

"Um—"

Nicole turned, her eyes literally spitting fire and singeing the floor. "AND WHAT THE HELL DO YOU WANT?"

"Um, I'm the guy who was hiding behind your mirror the other day. And I just wanted to ask… would you go out with me?"

"Are you Hapa?"

"Um. Yes I am."

Nicole mentally appraised him. Well, he was a good singer. He could write music. He appeared to be somewhat intelligent. And that left eyebrow was freaking sexy.

"What the hell. Let's go." Nicole grabbed his arm and they walked out, hand in hand.

Fin

You know you're in band when you have ten popular pep tunes memorized, but don't know the words to any of them.