A/N: I have finally fallen into temptation...

...and named a chapter with a lyric from the Phantom musical. -.-

The Sydney season of Phantom of the Opera ended a week ago while I was at Latin Camp, and this morning I FINALLY cried! I woke up and started singing 'Down Once More' and continued until the end. Wet tears, real tears, salty tears, tears of sadness and pity. I could hear Roy Weissensteiner's and Anthony Warlow's voices in my head, singing as the Phantom. Sometimes it was Roy, at others it was Anthony... I remembered everything I had experienced and I CRIED.

Jeez, my timing is awful. -.-'

Anywho. New chapter after two weeks. Enjoy! And thank you to all the readers and reviewers so far; I keep forgetting my common author's courtesy!

Disclaimer: I'm too busy to own PotO, or to try getting it.

She Who Has New Surprises in Store

I prodded Estelle on the shoulder gently. She didn't move or turn to look at me.

"Well?" I hissed impatiently over the noise of the rest of the students in the bus. "How was it?"

Estelle had been one of the final girls to get her exam done. I wanted to hear what she did, whether she had managed to spot Mr Gerik hiding in the shadows beside her or not-

She pivoted to face me and blinked. "It was...weird. But it was so-" She paused, sinking back into her thoughts.

"You were with Edwin, weren't you?" I prompted. "Hah, what irony. You get partnered with one of your best friends. So, how was that?"

Estelle inclined her head. "He acted so oddly. And then he told me that- That..."

The bus jerked to a halt. I looked out of the window. "My stop." I groaned. Turning back to Estelle, I vowed, "You're telling me tomorrow, alright?"

Estelle appeared to relax and regain her old lively spirit. "Goodbye, Dana. And good luck with the exam tomorrow."

I don't how to classify Mum's facial expression when I trudged off the school bus and up the front path. A sick leave day had resulted in her staying at home, in the prime position for seeing me in my state of wetness. She had been sitting on the doorstep, enjoying the breeze and a cup of tea...

"The stupid underskirts on the dress won't dry." I explained to her.

Mum nodded numbly. Her eyes flickered, and for a moment the hand holding the tea trembled. She slapped her thigh, and let loose an almighty shriek of laughter.

I breathed a sigh of relief. I had a hunch she wouldn't be angry with me, but I wasn't quite sure.

And now, I thought, I need to deal with a mother who is laughing maniacally on the front doorstep.

"How's the cold?" I asked, in hopes of distracting her.

"Better, better." she replied happily. "And you'd better get inside before you catch a cold as well." She was pointing at the damp pink skirt of my dress, sitting idly in its own little pool of water around my feet. "It wouldn't do to have us both sick and coughing all through the show on Sunday! What would Charles say?"

My face lit up at the mention of the performance. "It wasn't my fault, just so you know." I informed her, striding up the rest of the path and sitting down next to her. "It was the Phantom's; I had nothing at all to do with it."

Mum's hand flew to her mouth, and the giggling immediately silenced. "Oh, how was your exam today? The abduction, wasn't it?"

I nodded confirmation. "It was...weird." I echoed Estelle's words. "But nice as well. Very pretty."

Mum put an arm around me. "And how did you end up all wet?"

I could not help but smile at the memory, although the experience hadn't been pleasant. "It was in the gondola. My Phantom fell off the stern. The boat rocked, and I went into the drink as well."

I could hear Mum snickering again. "You know what?" she said. "I'll tell you my embarrassing abduction story." She shifted position, putting the teacup down. "It was in the last year of high school. Our final abduction exam, for the High School Certificate, you understand. I was lumped with this shocker of a Phantom. He was as thin as a palm tree, but he had the most amazing golden eyes.

"And you know what he did when the horse came along? He was supposed to lift me up onto it, everyone knows that. Well, he took me by the waist, heaved me up like a set of weights- And then he dropped me, just like a set of weights.

"I fell, crashed on top of the poor fellow and pinned him to the ground. The horse bolted, of course." Mum shook her head. "It took the teachers a while to get it back for the next pair. Not the best thing to do in your HSC exam, you know."

"Wow. There was a horse?" My eyes widened. "How did your mark turn out?"

At this my mum laughed and took another sip of tea. "I aced it! Well, almost aced it. They teachers marking me thought it hadn't been my fault he dropped me, so I didn't cop is as bad as you might think. It pays to be in the teachers' good books, but I'm not in any way condoning bribery and corruption." Mum wagged a finger at me. "And I'll have you know, I was not overweight at the age of seventeen!"

"I know you weren't, Mum." I surveyed the street blithely. "But I'm wet. I've got to dry this dress, and I've got school tomorrow, and-" I stopped short. "And my theory exam!" I leapt up and shoved the front door open. "See you, Mum; gone to study; sorry!"

I could swear I heard her muttering behind me, "You know, I was going to offer to wash that school dress before you got the floor wet, too."

The morning was filled with anxiety and adrenaline. The envelope on my desk did nothing to calm my nerves. I eyed it suspiciously, eventually gathering the courage to pick it up and look inside.

I'm sorry about what I did yesterday. Can you forgive me? I'll take you to the Ball Masque to make it up, if you'll accept me.

Erik

I lowered the note from my face and searched the room. I found Erik sitting at his desk, but he looked quickly away. I raised an eyebrow, about to call a question to him-

Oh BUGGER, I thought absently. Oh this is just what I need. A major examination, a weird kid attempting to ask me out, and now the teacher's here!

For the first time since the beginning of the school year, the class had not been rowdy prior to the teacher's entrance. We had all been seated, perfectly silent. The air could have been sliced to pieces, so thick with our breath it was.

I watched Mr Gerik walk down the aisles and place exam papers on each desk. His dark brown cape went past with a whoosh, and I was left staring at the paper on my desk, my arms stiff by my side. My mind whirled with the memory of historic dates, names, and the theoretic guidelines to life...

I lifted my head to look at the teacher. "When I say so, turn over your tests and begin." The Phantom sat casually at his desk, and all watched him nod at us.

I flipped the exam over, my eyes searching hungrily for the first question.

'Empathy task: Extended response. Write a note to the manager/s of the opera house as an Opera Ghost. Use appropriate length. 5 marks.'

I willed my mind to calm itself. I couldn't do the exam while it was as turbulent as a crowd of rioters! All right. Should I follow the example of past Opera Ghost notes or be creative? Oh, the clock on the wall was ticking so loudly...

Oh for the love of Michael Crawford, I need to concentrate! I looked up at the monkey on Mr Gerik's desk, looked into its glass eyes, then put my head back down. I began to scrawl across the black lines.

I hope this note finds you all in good health. The performance last evening was not one of this Opera's best, I must say. Do not fool yourselves into thinking I did not notice the stage-hand getting caught in the stage lights. That, messieurs, is a disgraceful show of incompetence. I expected better from one trained for so long. It appears once again that...

I stopped writing and thought for a few seconds, resolving to score out the last phrase.

And have you not yet sacked that tenor in the chorus as I have demanded? He is a toad-I smiled faintly at this, recalling my own singing experiences- among nightingales.

Also still in my opera house is Signora Carlotta. Gentlemen, rid yourselves now of an infuriating wart-

Hmm. Should I continue with the Carlotta rant? The note was getting quite long. Short, polite, yet demanding seemed to be the norm for notes such as this. On the other hand, I might earn more marks if I showed I had actually learned something from History and Case Studies. I drew a line through the word 'wart.'

...pebble in your shoes and for the love of all that is sacred, send her to London for a permanent holiday.

Your obedient servant,
O.G.

Should I have capitalized 'obedient servant?' No, it looked fine the way it was. A hasty glance at the clock reminded me that there was a time limit. Next question!

'Case Studies: Knowledge and Reasoning. From the 1943 tale of Erique Claudin and Christine Dubois, what conclusion can we come to? 3 marks.'

Oh my god, my brain just died at that moment. My mind was blank. I blinked at the page, read the question again. When I could think of nothing, I started to panic. Leave the question and move on? We were supposed to attempt each question; how many marks would I lose if I couldn't get back to it...?

Like a flash of lightning from a storm, I came up with something. It wasn't brilliant, but it was something.

From this part of history we can conclude that it is very difficult to choose between men. Dubois had three suitors, Erique Claudin, Raoul-

Oh dear, what was his surname?! I was pretty sure this Raoul hadn't been a de Chagny...

-D'Aubert, and Anatole Garron. History fails to document which of these three married Christine Dubois, or if she married at all.

I sighed heavily. All right, what next? Bring it on, I thought. What have you got for me? Oh, what a morning it had been so far. It wasn't even ten o'clock yet!

What new surprises are in store?

Cliché ending line, I know, and a shorter chapter than usual. By five hundred words, at the very least. Sorry, everyone. Considering I only spent a couple of hours on it. I'm busy packing for a holiday, and complaining that I didn't see the last four Sydney Phantom shows because I was AT LATIN CAMP ALL WEEKEND! I'm still rather upset, as you can see.

While I was at Latin Camp, however, I met a boy with a Phantom of the Opera t-shirt (though I do better asking PotO cast members for autographs than talking to boys)! There was also a lovely bushwalk, and I've already written a fanfiction involving the parallels between Ancient Greek/Roman mythology and The Phantom of the Opera. (Shameless plugging... Go and read 'The Angel Down in Hell' if you're interested. I'd like to get come critique on that story, since I'm not at all pleased with it.)

Review if it pleases you, and please do because I CRAVE constructive criticism! I didn't read over this at all, so please point out any mistakes so I can amend them accordingly and thank you!

Your hormonally-imbalanced authoress,
DarkFlame