Monsieur Brightside
by
IChooseTheScorpion

Disclaimer: Well, I know Gaston Leroux isn't reading this, unless they have internet access where dead peoples' souls go (if there are such things as souls, and assuming religion isn't just a manifestation of the human mind created to deal with the thought of death and non-existence...), and I'm going to go out on a limb here and assume that Susan Kay isn't a huge phan/fanfiction reader. I know for a fact that Andrew Lloyd Webber is in the process of bitching out Joel Schumacher for totally jacking up his awesome musical and making it into a realtively good movie that at times had bad singing and was a cheesefest. Feel free to leave me a lovely review about how you disagree with that opinion: it'll make the numbers go up. Yeah, I totally on Phantom of the Opera! Erik is mine for having wild, orgasmic sex with every night of the fcuking week.

Summary: Not EOW in a romantic sense at all...just enough for our lovely O.G. to have an equally lovely son, who falls in love with possibly the most obvious of women. But daddy doesn't like the thought of his flesh and blood in a relationship with what should have been his own progeny. SK, GL, and ALW combined.

A/N: Sorry I haven't updated in like forever. My computer is on crack and stuff...anyways, I had to email this chapter to myself and then retrieve it at school, so I could upload it there. I'll try and Update ASAP, the next chapter's already written, so it'll probably be up tomorrow. Thanks for all the review, you guys!

A/N2: Hi! I have a buncha pen names, including Padfootz-luvr, Sugarcult Babe, and CapnJacksBonnieLass, but this is my first story under this particular one. This phic is based of of the plot of ALW, with that Erik's half-mask, but underneath it he is all SK and GL-ish. Nadir is in it, and the whole SK scenario is totally into play, just not anything after Erik is all in his lil Opera home underground and falls in love with Miss Cheating BitchSlutWhoreTramp Daaé (jk, I kinda like her...sometimes...). Monsieur Le Fantome has fallen into this sort of...twisted...whore-ridden...sex-fest of drugs and stuff, but then he leaves France for a little bit. He returns...but his fav courtesan has had his kid. Read to find out more and I swear I will share Erik on Mondays and Wednesdays when I have play practice.

Ooh, Ooh, VISIT MY SITE! (Self-promotion rox my sox) It's in my bio/profile-y thing!

I'm coming out of my cage
And I've been doing just fine
Gotta gotta be down
Because I want it all
It started out with a kissHow did it end up like this
It was only a kiss, it was only a kiss

Now I'm falling asleep
And she's calling a cab
While he's having a smoke
And she's taking a drag
Now they're going to bed
And my stomach is sick
And it's all in my head

But she's touching his-chest
Now, he takes off her dress
Now, let me go
I just can't look its killing me
And taking control

Jealousy, turning saints into the sea
Swimming through sick lullabies
Choking on your alibis
But it's just the price I pay
Destiny is calling me
Open up my eager eyes
'Cause I'm Mr. Brightside

I'm coming out of my cage
And I've been doing just fine
Gotta gotta be down
Because I want it all
It started out with a kiss
How did it end up like this
(It was only a kiss) it was only a kiss

Now I'm falling asleep
And she's calling a cab
While he's having a smoke
And she's taking a drag
Now they're going to bed
And my stomach is sick
And it's all in my head

But she's touching his-chest
Now, he takes off her dress
Now, let me goI just can't look its killing me
And taking control

Jealousy, turning saints into the sea
Swimming through sick lullabies
Choking on your alibi
But it's just the price I pay
Destiny is calling me
Open up my eager eyes
'Cause I'm Mr. Brightside

I never...
I never...
I never...

"Mr. Brightside" by The Killers

Chapter Two:
Mr. Brightside

There, spoiling the would-be unblemished picture, was him. Sitting beside her, gazing at her, admiring her beauty, no doubt, while managing to look so â₋?handsome' and â₋?dashing' all the same.
Jealousy poured through Erik's blood like oil through water, tainting it, contaminating it. And, as he stared at the De Chagny crest embellished on the door of the carriage, he remembered: it was not to him that Christine's heart belonged.

It was not him that she would lay with that night...it was not in his arms she would wake the next morning, comfortable and content, warm and secure...it was not his own home, under the Opera House, in the cellars, no less, where she would sleep and live, happily and willingly, with him in Holy Matrimony until the day either died...it was not to his own hideous malformation that he dared call a face that she would wake up to every morning...it was the Viscount's handsome, young face that she would wake up to, in his arms, after a night of love-making, in their large, luxurious house on their estate, where they lived joyously together, jubilantly married.

Erik's stomach grew sick, and he fought to close his eyes so that he would not be sick, but he couldn't shut out the image of her lovely, smiling face, knowing he wouldn't see that smile ever directed at him...

He finally closed his eyes tightly as the carriage drove away, off into the starry, clear night. But it was as though someone had burned her face into his eyelids, because there she was, smiling with her precious Vicomte, in love with him, willing to sleep in the same bed with him and marry him out of love...

Erik struggled to get his now ragged breathing under control as his mind whirled with questions and thoughts, images, and memories of his beloved and her angelic voice.

Why was she here? That was the main question rolling through his complex mind...his mind that was constantly in turmoil. The Viscount and his new wife were said to have gone to live outside of Paris, far from the scandalous affair with the Phantom of the Opera...

Erik forced his breathing to calm, and finally took a step into the street, checking his watch. Nearly a quarter to midnight now. Erik meandered slowly down the street, the opposite way that the carriage was going...he didn't care if he got the money to Aurore on time or not now, didn't care if he was seen.

Suddenly, a fascinating, terrifying mixture of bloodlust and carnal lust seeped through his body, through the very essence of his being...and he sped up his pace, taking every shortcut he knew to the ramshackle house where his courtesan lived with her huge family. Erik hoped Aurore could spare just an hour or two of her time to accompany him to the nearest motel or inn for a few hundred more francs.

No...Erik very suddenly wished to bring her down into his home, and pretend, just for one last night, that it was Christine he was with, and Christine had chosen him, willingly, out of love, and she would allow him to take her, in his domain...Just for one last night.

As he nearly reached the shack in which Aurore and her eight siblings lived, Erik decided, after this one last time, he would be done with his mistresses (at least the ones in Paris) and leave the country...to get away from her...and that boy...

Erik reached the door and pounded on it. Aurore opened the door cautiously, then wider as she stared at him, surprised. Usually, if he left them money, he slipped it under the door and left without a word.
"Monsieur," she said, keeping her voice hushed. Erik assumed that most of the children were asleep.

Good...perhaps she could leave one of the eldest in charge for just a bit...

"What are you doing here-"

Before she could finish the question, Erik grabbed her hips and pulled her to him, pressing his mouth to hers hard and passionately, needily. He roughly opened her mouth and explored it with his tongue, and one of his hands made its way to the front of her dress as he ran it across her breasts.

He pulled back, his eyes darkened with lust, and began to pull her away from the "house", but she pulled back. He glared at her, angry at her defiance, but she held her footing.

"My brothers and sisters..." she muttered, glancing back into the house.

"Get the oldest to watch them for a couple hours," he growled, frustrated at her tendency to put her love and care for her family before his needs and money.

"Oh, but, Monsieur-"

"I'll pay you double, plus what I owe, up front," he responded, showing her the wad of bills in his hand.

Her eyes widened and she nodded, briefly returning into the dark, cold beaten-up dwelling. He heard a few words exchanged, then she stepped. back out into the night...his kingdom.

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