This is based on the book and the new movie that just came out. I own nothing of these characters. Except Nadine and Nedia. This is meant to be romantic, but humorous. Don't ask why I wrote this story. I was bored and the movie made me do this. My fingers found a keyboard, unfortunately, and began to play. Oh, I do hope to be serious and funny in the same moment.

Enjoy!

The New Mess

Lovely that time moves on, people move on, but some things stay the same. Voices echo through empty caverns as if someone were still there, waiting. Waiting for a new hope.

Well, something that may resemble a new hope.

She, arms waving frantically, came running down the opposite shore of his large cavern. She had dirt caked to her dress, ribbons of spit hanging from her mouth and her voice was raging with terror or absolute horror. He couldn't make out what she was saying. If she were actually saying anything at all.

Limply she fell into the water, sinking there like a large rock.

The men came next. Armed with sticks. There voices heavy with crude remarks.

The phantom stood, his eyes never leaving the men as the woman swam toward him. She was kicking up swarms of mud; her face now covered with her unruly hair.

He threw off his cape, slowly walking into the water. Quickly he pulled the terrified woman to his shore. He left her there as he moved toward the men once again.

They mocked him. Laughed at him.

He gently raised his sword.

They ran.

She stared at him through her messy hair. He was moving toward her now, a gate slowly coming down behind him to close off the cavern. Who was this man and what in God's name did he mean to do with her? And why the hell had she swum over to him? The other men may have been less dangerous.

"Thank you." She offered as she slung her hair back from her face, "I think they meant to harm me."

"Or just beat you with a stick." He said softly, his wet pant leg brushing past her as he moved toward another part of the cavern.

She stood quickly, "I'm freezing." She said as she stood shivering. He was over by a large statue; he seemed to be changing. His back to her as he pulled off his wet shirt.

Hmmm…she thought…very nice.

Then he turned, his face hidden on one side by a mask.

Hmmm…she thought…very weird.

"You have any clothes for me or shall I freeze to death in this hell of yours?"

He eyed her as he walked up some steps toward what seemed to be a large organ, "You can freeze to death." He said lightly, but added, "Unless you can sing."

She rolled her eyes lightly as she grabbed a candle off a large metal stand, "I'll warm myself with this candle."

"Very well." He said, now seating himself at his organ, "I'll play while you freeze to death."

"Why is everything in this God forsaken Opera House built upon a song or a voice? Why can't some of us just have horrible voices and stick with that?" she was fuming, her voice rising above the sound of his organ, "Why must you play that music while I am yelling at you?"

He was getting irritated. His fingers were almost clenching the keys below each tip. He had been yearning for another human being for years. Just waiting for someone to fall into his lair. Now, he was yearning for his peace and quiet. The soft lap of the little lake at his shore. The creaking of the old boards of the Opera House above his head. The soft voices of woman singing.

But all that was gone now.

She was here with her big mouth and…

He stepped quickly from the organ, down the steps…

His hand immediately slammed over her mouth. She was trying to bite him now. He pushed harder, his white mask pressed against her warm skin, "Shut up!" he hissed at her with so much malice that he was sure his spit had blood in it.

She must have felt the strength in that touch, in those fingers, because she hushed finally. A salty tear hitting his hand.

He pulled away from her.

"Sing or die." He stated plainly.

She stepped back, blinked, "But…"

He turned back to her.

She began to sing. Something horrible that he would later write down so he could smack her in the head with it a few times. The song coming from her large mouth seemed to be about death, torture and a muscular man with a mask.

"A different song." He hissed again as he pulled her up the steps.

She pulled her arm from his tight grasp, her hand rubbing the red marks away. Now she felt like a naughty child. Maybe he would spank her.

She slapped herself.

The phantom giving her a dark stare, "Are you mad? Some lunatic to darken my days even more?"

"No." she said quickly, "Play your stuff, I'll sing something."

She watched his arms under the thin fabric of his shirt. Her eyes finally resting on his long fingers that graced the organ keys as if he were playing them with air between the keys and his skin.

She began to sing her voice soft and fragrant with promise. And then, to his dismay, she hit a high note.

He quickly put his hand on his mask in order to protect it from cracking. Her voice could wake the dead and kill the dead all in the same moment.

From his mask, his hand blindly traveled over to her mouth and settled there, "Please, for the sake of all that is peaceful, shut your hole."

She did fall silent, his hand wet with the moisture of her lips.

"It was perfect until you hit that high, high, think you broke my eardrums, note." He turned to her, "What in God's name was that?"

She snatched off his mask.

She blinked, shrugged her shoulders, "Seen worse." She said lightly and then she moved back toward the shore of the cavern.

"It doesn't frighten you?" he asked. He was a bit peeved by this. Everyone was scared of his face. He was even scared of it sometimes.

"Boyfriend was in a fire once. I think he got out. I don't know." She kicked at some of the dirt at the shore, "Yours is pretty nasty looking, but his was worse. Actually, I think he did die. I think I remember a funeral or something."

She watched the man put his mask back on and turn back to the organ. He seemed to be muttering a prayer about Jesus taking him sooner than he had wished.

He heard her going back into the water. For a second he wished she might drown or something. Then he looked at her. He really looked at her. Studied her for a second.

She was attractive in a way, but…

The hell with it, he thought, let her die!