Chapter ten of 'MegMichele, ChristineKat and the Gaping Plothole'! I thank all my reviewers and looker-overs so much, you're all such darlings, really, thanks for reading. Anyways, I own nothing, not any of this. I own the Phantom in my closet, in his glorious Red Death outfit, a tub of chocolate sauce and a can of whipped cream. I am not at liberty to explain why any of those things are related to eachother, I'll just put it this way, if I was to explain why these things are related, I would be told that I belong on 'Sex and the City'. Ahh, well, anyways, I'm experimenting point of views in this chapter so it's going to be a little odd. Forgive me for that. As a writer, I have the urge to change stuff around. So ya think the plot's going well so far, ehh? Yeah, it is, in a few chapters I will have thrown the entirety of the original movie plot completely off track. Not yet, patience, dears. Well, on with the fic!

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I awoke in a fluffed bed, entirely exhausted. The night had been grueling (I slept for a few and far apart collection of minutes) and I felt more tired, if anything.

I looked around to find the room devoid of all life, save for Meg Giry curled up on the corner, chin in her hands and a thoughtful look creasing her features.

"What is it, Meg?" I asked, voice hoarse.

"I'm thinking about something, Kat"

Thinking? Meg Giry was thinking? Rare, strange and earth-shattering.

"You have to sleep more. When you don't sleep, I don't sleep, remember? Ugh, I'm exhausted…" I heard Christine whine.

At least I didn't feel like my guts were going to be spewed on the floor in front of me.

I shuddered in remembrance of last night. How could someone so-

"BINGO!" I was interrupted as Meg leapt to her feet, index finger in the air and triumphant grin on her face.

"Hmm?" I asked calmly, eyebrow quirked.

"Why he makes you sick! Why you can't remember who you were- well, are! I'VE GOT IT!" she exclaimed proudly.

"Continue" I urged, leaning forward in interest.

"You have an obviously dominating personality; then again, Christine does as well. Despite her outward appearance, like," she stopped, grumbling in annoyance "she needs to be in control a-lot. Because of, like, that, your personalities sort of overlap each other. Since she's, like, the most dominating personality in that body, her memories and her thoughts come through more than yours. LIKE, EUREKA!"

I sighed and covered my ears at the last statement, her shrill voice ringing in my ears.

"Fine, why do I get sick when I'm around Erik?" I asked smartly, grinning cheekily.

"That" Meg sank back into the corner, defeated "I need to think about"

I sighed and slipped my head into my hands, eyebrows furrowing, I had to think about this, myself.

"Stop thinking so much…you're working yourself too hard. Got to bed" Christine moaned in irritation.

Oh shut up, brunette, I'm not in the mood.

"Il Muto's tonight, you know. I hope you're, like, ready for it…" the words rested on the tip of Meg's tongue.

'You're going to break him. You're going to make him cry. You're going to watch him die inside' Meg-Michele thought silently.

"Who? Ohh my, don't tell me she's going to break the Vicomte's heart!" the little Meg voice in the back of her head cried.

Well, okay, I guess I'll take a crack at explaining this whole situation. Michele has a vastly dominating personality, it's just how she is, even more dominating than me. Meg is totally submissive, therefore, Michele is in total control of the body. But Meg remains in the back of her head, like a little buzzing fly who I like better than Christine.

My little Christine voice pisses me off. Why can't mine behave like sweet little Meg?

"Ohh yes, I'm the page boy" I said sourly, liquid chocolate gaze glaring deeply into the wall.

"Yes, but trust me and don't worry. You'll get your break, like, very soon" Meg comforted.

'You're going to destroy the precious Phantom you worship!' her head kept yelling.

"Ohh and…I thought it was the Vicomte…well, I suppose that's better….but why would she care if she broke the Phantom's heart, Miss Michele?" the little Giry asked.

'Because, sweet little blonde idiot, Kat…not Christine, Kat, as in my friend, has an utter and total infatuation with the Phantom. She breaks his heart, I'm pretty sure the Kat side of her rolls over and dies' Michele, ever the optimist (pfft, right, maybe when I get that sandwich I've been complaining over) laughed sarcastically.

"Meg?" I asked gently.

"Yes, like, Kat?" she inquired with a sigh.

"Why do I have a really bad really nauseous feeling in the pit of my stomach?" I asked timidly.

"You've been feeling like that for, like, days…and don't worry about it" she didn't have the heart to tell me what I was going to do….

I was going to kill the one man I really cared about in this world. I was going to make him shed tears, tears that I deserved more than he.

Ohh Erik.

Thinking back, I could kill Michele for not telling me what I was going to do to him. Because, when I had committed the deed…well, you'll see in a bit. Let us just say it was one hell of a mess.

"Well, like, come on. We need to get out there; we have, like, one more chance to rehearse. Come on, lazy! Up!" before I knew it, my blonde buddy had grabbed the sheets from under me and pulled, causing me to roll to the floor in a crumpled heap of skirts and brunette curls with a loud squeal.

This day had already begun with the major suckage.

Later, My Fantabulous Scene in 'Il Muto' as Carlottta's Little Serafimo Person….The Spectacle Begins

"Poor fool he doesn't know, oh oh oh oh oh! If he knew the truth he'd never ever go-"

The hideous diva bird thing was interrupted by a booming voice from above us.

"Did I not instruct that box five was to be kept empty?" I knew that voice…

Instantly, the world seemed to blur into a mess of colors and shapes, my mind traveling elsewhere.

"He's here, like, the Phantom of the Opera" Meg said dully, tone flat and emotionless.

"It's him…" I murmured, looking up to my dark prince.

Ohh God so dizzy…but it feels so ridiculously de-lovely.

Hideous diva bird thing snapped her oh-so-fashionable fan thing at me and growled, "Your part is silent, little toad"

Each word dripped with that dreadful, terrible, monstrous accent.

"Ohh good God, she's so terrible" Christine complained in the back of 'my' head.

For the second time today, shut up.

My dark prince murmured something in irritation, turning and stalking off into the rafters whilst muttering angrily to himself.

But a few moments later, the show resumed and I continued to not do anything but scamper around Carlotta while she shrieked in the voice that could crack windows and deafen the already deaf.

In my mind, I could envision it. Carlotta's mouth would open, glass would begin to shatter, people would scream in horror, things would be set aflame, the apocalypse would suddenly begin, death would be upon every unsuspecting man, woman and child…Carlotta would keep singing until the world blinked out of existence….

I snapped out of it when I noticed that the icky bad voice had stopped, and hideous diva bird thing was croaking like a frog and screaming for her mother. I could so care less.

"Ladies and gentleman, we apologize. The performance will continue in ten minutes time when the role of the countess will be played Miss Daae" Firmin said urgently.

Yoink! I was plucked from behind the curtain and paraded in front of a cheering crowd.

"Until then we would crave your indulgence for a few moments" Firmin stated (almost calmly).

"Meanwhile, we'd like to give you the ballet from act 3 of tonight's opera" Andre stammered nervously.

"What?" Reyer practically twitched.

"Yes, the-the ballet. Bring it forward please!" Andre exclaimed, gesturing wildly.

I was forced back behind the curtain and into the backroom, in which I was forced into the Countess outfit and tied back up so as breathing was but a distant memory.

Everything was going smoothly, perfectly. Then everyone outside starting shrieking like banshees which was, needless to say, bad for hung over ChristineKat. I wasn't feeling well and the endless screaming of the people outside wasn't helping. I was soon rushed outside by the crowd in the dressing room anxiously running to see what had occurred.

There it was. Hanging in the air and still twitching slightly by a lasso, was Joseph Buquet. No, not Joseph Buquet, Joseph Buquet's corpse.

A caped figure was visible far up in the rafters, a twisted smirk upon those angelic lips. Ohh no…mon ange…Erik….no.

The smirk screamed 'you made me do this, it was your fault'.

"Christine! Are you alright?" the Vicomte was at my side.

"It's not safe here!" I gripped him by the arm and began to flee as fast as my heel-clad feet could take me, frantically rushing up the spiral staircase.

"Why have you brought me here?" great, now he was singing.

"We can't go back there" and now I'm singing, too? Ohh hell….

"We must return" the Vicomte sang.

"He'll kill you. His eyes will find us there!" stop it, stop lying! Stupid Christine, making me say these things!

"Christine don't say that" he nearly warned. Yet I kept singing.

"Those eyes that burn…"

For the record, his eyes never made me feel anything but happy, so that last line was a total untruth. How could those perfect, bright eyes ever hurt me?

"Don't even think it"

"If he has to kill a thousand men" what ludicrous bullshit am I singing?

"Forget this waking nightmare…" his voice had softened.

"The phantom of the opera will kill and kill again! My God who is this man?"

"My God who is this man…"

"Who hunts to kill"

"This mask of death"

"I can't escape from him, I never will"

"Whose is this voice you hear, with every breath?"

"And in this labyrinth, where night is blind. The phantom of the opera is here, inside my mind"

"And in this labyrinth, where night is blind. The phantom of the opera is there, inside your mind"

He stopped, whirled on me, frost eyes glittering as snow began to fall.

"There is no phantom of the opera" is he stupid? Who does he think just killed Buquet?

"Raoul, I've been there, to his world of unending night . . . to a world where the daylight dissolves into darkness….Darkness … Raoul, I've seen him! Can I ever forget that sight? Can I ever escape from that face? So distorted, deformed, it was hardly a face, in that darkness … darkness…" I felt myself drifting once more, almost needing to compensate for all the awful things I'd just said. It was the Kat side that made me sing the next words, "But his voice filled my spirit with a strange, sweet sound … In that night there was music in my mind…And through music my soul began to soar! And I heard as I'd never heard before…."

"What you heard was a dream and nothing more…" really, how stupid was he?

"But in his eyes….all the sadness of the world. Those pleading eyes…that both threaten and adore…" the words stuck in my mind…those eyes, they were just so hard to forget, to just shrug off. So deep, so gentle…so caring. Yet, at the same time, so passionate, so rough, burning with an intense fire. And, in spite of all that, they seemed so…so empty.

"Christine…Christine…" the Vicomte softly walked over, concern in his soft, blue eyes.

"Christine..." the ghostly voice echoed off the rooftop and I felt my heart speed up in my chest. I felt myself choke in an attempt to swallow and eventually succeeded. Then there was suddenly this horrid pain in my chest.

Christine and I both knew, despite lack of experience, that feeling was a heart breaking.

I knew something bad was about to occur.

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Yeah, cliffhangers are the devil, I know. I just thought it's a terrible yet lovely point to cut that scene off. Dreadful, really. Well, what will I say? Am I beginning to like Christine? Should Carlotta drop dead?

1. Review with your assumption on this one, I'm intrigued as to what you people think I'll do.

2. Okay…just a little.

3. HELL YES!

Mwahah, review and keep reading, next chapter'll be up soon.