Hey lovely readers! Here's a oneshot for Penelope Zozes who might've mentioned wanting to see "Phantom of the Opera". Well, Sutton might not being going there in 'Universal Displacement', but it's always fun to see her in new places!
And I really do love Phantom of the Opera! Webber's music is great, and I can't even tell you how many times I've listened to that CD. Not sure Sutton shares the sentiment though!
Just a note: "Words in italics while in quotation marks means a character is singing."
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Sutton hurried down a dimly lit corridor feeling extremely out of place and at a clear disadvantage thanks to the large ball gown she sported. It had way too much fabric in the skirt and swirled around her feet whenever she tried to pick up the pace.
"Crimeny," she complained as she tugged up on the bodice. "Can't even fill this one out."
The sound of distant voices reminded her that the fit of the dress was the least of her concerns right now.
She'd managed to blend in as one of the staff for a few days, actually, but now her cover was completely blown. Someone just had to get hanged from the stage riggings sending everyone into a paranoid tizzy, causing them to realize,
'Wait. You're not on the payroll.'
Her perfected role as one of the kitchen staff had been carelessly shattered, which was why she'd tried to slip into a more respectable and totally opposite style dress, and book it until they gave up chasing her.
It was a large opera house, which should have given her plenty of hiding places, but Sutton was fairly certain that there was another unwelcome occupant she wasn't keen on meeting. That's why, when she found herself at a staircase, she deemed it wise to go up instead of down.
"Like keeping my hand at the level of my eye would do anything," she snorted. A bit bemusedly she wondered if her hair would be enough of a barrier to prevent strangulation.
The staircase was narrow and wooden, Sutton could see other people running to the stage and therefore paying little attention to her, which was appreciated. Sutton hefted up some of her skirt in both hands to stop herself from tripping up the stairs. She was still wearing a pair of old, black Converse sneakers and they looked ridiculous paired with the red taffeta gown.
Hmm, ridiculous? Or punk?
On her way away from the righteously angry staff and suspicious kitchen managers Sutton found herself passing numerous set props and dresses and shelves upon shelves of oddly disturbing masks.
As if she needed the reminder.
The disgruntled voices behind her were beginning to die off, but Sutton kept running just to be on the safe side. She came to another staircase, metal that spiraled up, and she ran up that one too with a huff.
Seriously, there'd been too much running lately.
At the top of the stairs was nothing but a door and she took a moment to catch her breath before carefully easing it open. It was a thick, sturdy, metal door with a small round window in the top, and it did a well enough job of keeping out the cold. She knew because once the door was cracked open she could feel the drop in temperature.
A bit belatedly, Sutton noticed voices.
Stifling a yelp of surprise, Sutton slipped passed the door and quickly darted behind the statue of some man standing proudly. Luckily for her the couple hadn't been facing the door she just emerged from.
"And I heard as I've never heard before."
"What you heard was a dream and nothing more."
Crap.
Sutton crouched down, the skirt of her dress piling up around her and peered around the base of the statue.
Of course; the roof! Why hadn't she realized that Christine and her boyfriend would be on the roof?
Maybe because she'd seen this movie a total of two times tops and had only read the book once as a requirement way back in high school.
It was as she continued to listen and wait for the pair to finally leave, which they didn't seem to be doing anytime soon, that she understood what it was that struck her as odd about them. They were singing! They were honest-to-goodness singing the same as they would have a normal conversation!
"Holy crap," she muttered to herself. "This universe is an actual freaking musical. Why me?"
It was starting to snow now and Sutton scowled. She didn't have a jacket or cloak or whatever, and was starting to freeze.
Wrap it up people. We get it. You love each other. Let's go.
It was starting to get weird. There wasn't even any background music to accompany them.
The pair continued to stroll around the balcony while in song and Sutton was forced to scurry around the statue in order to remain out of sight.
Great, now they were making out too!
Movement out of the corner of her eye had her turning her head elsewhere and she had to choke back another gasp. She had caught sight of a black cape flaring behind a statue to her left; she could kick herself for not remembering the Phantom himself made an appearance.
Her face was flushed, mirroring her dress, from frustration and the cold as she now tried to make sure neither party spotted her.
"I hate this, I hate this, I hate musicals, I hate this," Sutton thought in agitation. "The minute I get back home I am writing a flippin' 3,000 page novel, I don't even care. I am going to cram that thing down people's throats until they love it. I am sick of this already."
When the unobservant couple finally left to go back inside, Sutton still couldn't make a break for the door because the Phantom had already crossed the balcony to weepily nuzzle the discarded rose he'd given to Christine. He was singing too.
Oh my gosh, he's not even one of the ugly Phantoms. Just be rich and no one will even care!
He finally seemed to have a shift in attitude, crushing the rose between his fingers like it was it was some poor stage man's neck, and ran for another statute at the edge of the roof.
"You will curse the day you did not do, all that the Phantom asked of you!"
Sutton found it all to be a bit melodramatic and self-centered, to be honest. Not quite the romantic vibe that she'd heard some people gush about.
As he faced outward towards the city, Sutton decided to try and make a break for it. Who knew how long he'd just be staring broodily at the world he was never a part of. Once again she gathered up the skirt of her dress and began to tip-toe towards the door.
"Wait. Just where you are. Take not another step!"
Sutton froze instantly only because she'd never actually been sung at before and it was completely unexpected. Slowly she swiveled slightly on the ball of her foot in order to peek over her shoulder. Gerard Butler was staring at her. And he didn't look exactly pleased. She watched as he stepped off the large horse statue and strolled forwards towards her.
"Did you think I had not noticed you?" In a normal voice he spoke the next sentence. "A prying girl in a red dress is hard to miss. What are you doing here?"
Sutton got the impression from the tone of his voice that there was a correct answer to that question. What was she going to say? Did she have to sing it to him?
"Um, monsieur, I-uh-I beg your pardon, sir."
Her pronunciation of the French word was poor at best and she twiddled her fingers nervously. Verbal languages had never been her strong suit. Her singing voice was more-or-less tolerable, perhaps it could be even decent with practice, but she'd never bothered to invest time into it.
The Phantom tilted his head curiously at her, but otherwise remained waiting for an acceptable answer from her.
"Someone was hung on the stage," she hedged cautiously. "I was frightened and ran. I wasn't quite thinking rationally."
She edged a toe closer to the metal door leading into the much warmer building and motioned towards it.
"I'll, uh, I mean, I'll just leave you to it, then. Bon voyage! Err, or, adieu!"
The Phantom acquired a bit of a mad gleam in his eye at her response, and Sutton had gone through enough universes by now to have learned not to wait for a counter reply from antagonists. She lifted those skirts and she flew through that door before he could sing another note.
If he was attempting to pursue her, Sutton couldn't tell. Her own footsteps were too loud to hear past and looking backwards was a rookie "Horror Film 101" mistake to make. Especially while going down stairs. She was doing everything not to fall down them now as it was.
The further down she ran the more people she started to notice. Everyone was still shocked and horrified over one of the staff being recently hanged and there were some people trying to clear out the theater. It was still a bit chaotic, really. It was inevitable that she run into another human being at some point. After all, she wasn't some invisible watcher that floated through these different worlds. She just wished she hadn't run into the very kitchen manager she'd run to the roof in order to escape from.
"Oof!"
"You!"
Sutton still wasn't sure why they were so upset. She'd been working for them! For free! All she'd taken as payment was some food!
"The Phantom," she screeched desperately on a whim. "I saw the Phantom! Oh heavens, he is in the opera house!"
The outburst was enough to startle the kitchen manager and distract him from his original quest to press charges or whatnot. It also garnered a bit of attention from the surrounding people in earshot. They gathered around her, to her dismay, and seemed to be waiting for further explanation.
"Um, the Phantom of the Opera is here, inside….this building! I have…seen him here…."
Sutton was fumbling; she did not feel like doing a whole musical number for these people. And what could she say? She couldn't say he looked like Gerard Butler! No one would buy that as a disfigured, ghostly being. She tried to remember the description from the book.
"His eyes, they burn," she continued while shrugging lamely. "His face looks skeletal, beneath the mask. If …he were …demon or man, I did not ask."
Her poorly composed solo ended abruptly there and she stared wide-eyed at the crowd that had formed around her. There was a nervous chatter going up from among them.
"What did I say? The Phantom did this!"
"He has killed a man!"
"This can't go on!"
"Hush! Do not speak of it!"
Sutton took advantage of the mad swell of people to slip away unnoticed, which she was very proud of. It wasn't easy just "slipping away" while wearing a giant, brazenly red dress. The sneakers did help though with maneuverability.
Not quite knowing where to go, Sutton tried to find a quieter corner of the building to huddle in for a moment. Without a doubt, she wasn't getting any help on finding a way home. Her only real option was to wait it out and hope that her body spasmed and decided to leave sooner rather than later.
There was only the very large problem of where to go from here. Her gig was up at this place, and she'd been spotted by the Phantom. There really wasn't any desire in her to see him again. Not when the most she remembered about his character was stalking and nooses.
So it was greatly disappointing when a looming, shadowy figure stepped out from behind a corner and into her personal space. Sutton was so sick and tired of running, especially in this floofy dress, that she didn't even try. Besides, what was the point? He'd already shown he could find her in this maze of a building and he had longer legs than her. Instead, she just let herself go limp and landed on the floor on her side and groaned.
"Why," she whined. "This always happens, I swear. What is it? Do I have a big neon sign above my head?"
He stood silently above her a bit longer; Sutton assumed he was disturbed by the way she reacted to being near him. Not the usual screaming and running in terror he was probably used to. When it was quiet for too long Sutton craned her head up in order to stare at him. If nothing else, she had to give him credit for style. His suit was dark enough that it seemed like it absorbed all the light around him and extinguished it. It made the stark white of his mask stand out even more sharply. With a sigh, she pushed herself up to her knees.
"Alright, what now? I'm tired of running and you know this place like the back of your hand, so the odds aren't in my favor."
"You know who I am and yet you do not flee," he said. "Why?"
"Well," Sutton responded a bit irritably, "if you'll recall I just explained, I tired that already and it didn't work. I'd like to not have to exert the energy if there's not even going to be any payoff."
"You do not cower," he clarified a bit more bluntly.
"Well, sorry to tell you, but you're not exactly as horrifying as you think you are. I mean, you're actually quite decent looking. Not a whole lot to cower away from. Besides, I did my fair share of cowering a year ago; it didn't really sit well with me."
His face took on a baffled expression, eyes widening slightly and brows furrowed with his hands clasped behind his back. Quite frankly it made Sutton uneasy. She was still afraid of becoming that "special" character that many a fanfic favored.
She traveled through universes and knew the Avengers on a first name basis, who was she trying to kid?
"My French is horrible and I can't sing, please don't fall in love with me."
That morphed his face into a look of revulsion so fast she might've been able to believe it'd been there from the beginning.
"You think too highly of yourself," he spat. His stance suddenly changed, becoming wide, his chest filling out, and Sutton suppressed another groan.
"You think, I'd teach you? A child without purpose? Your voice, can't compare, to that of Christine Daae's!"
"Ok wait a minute," Sutton interrupted, "I remember that tune. That's just that Night song with some lamer lyrics! And I was just making sure we were all clear on everyone's intentions. I'm glad we're cool."
He effectively ignored her, as she found many people did, huh, and addressed the topic most important to him.
"But now you have seen me."
Sutton really didn't like the way that sounded.
Rapidly, she shot to her feet and steadied herself against the wall. With a glare she edged a bit to the side.
"Don't get any ideas, buddy. I have no interest in the least of spreading any rumors about you. You think too highly of yourself. And, just to warn you, I know a lady who could snap your neck with her thighs alone and she totally taught me everything she knew."
As long as the Phantom didn't know her obvious tell, she should be set.
But his face grew grim at her implied threat, his countenance only seeming to grow even darker in the enclosed space.
She could probably do something. She did have that "imagination" thing going for her, after all. There was always the option of believing he was uglier, more like the book had described and that was sure to distract him for a bit. Maybe she could try to imagine a secret trap door behind her to escape through.
She really ought to try and start utilizing this ability more often.
So when the Phantom made a move as if to grab her, Sutton stiffened her jaw and set her gaze in determination. She smirked and hummed a tune mockingly.
"Alright buddy, you asked for it."
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Reviews are appreciated! And I'm open to requests, so if you're interested just send a PM or mention it in a review! Thanks folks!
