That irritating aristocrat! That over-pompous, self-involved...Fop! Yes, that's a good name for him, Fop. He took my seat again in Box Five during Ill Muto. The managers did not heed my warnings and had cast Carlotta as the Countess and my beautiful prodigy Christine did not even have a speaking part!

I was exasperated. The new managers were unintelligent, problematic buffoons. I'd never had these problems with the other managers. They had obeyed my every whim and fancy, and I did not like to be disobeyed.

I went to grab Carlotta's spray and replaced it with an herbal mixture of my own. Hopefully it would shut her up, and Christine would be cast as the Countess. I hated to interrupt the performance, but it was necessary. The other necessary item was to explain that Box Five was Mine, and if the man sitting in it had not been an important French Vicompte, he would have been dead long ago.

I used my ventriloquism and told them, the entire Parisian Upper-Class, yet just as I made my announcement Carlotta insulted my Christine. I wanted to swing my Punjab Lasso right then and strangle her, but no need, as she got her spray and began to sing. I snickered as I headed back to my perch above the rafters.

I wondered if now would be a good time to cut down that rickety old chandelier, but just as I was headed in that direction I was bested by none other than Joseph Bouquet. He had followed me and I panicked. I ran towards him and changed the game, now I was the cat and he the mouse. I played with my prize a few moments before I dropped down on him.

The only problem was that the peir I had dropped on was hanging directly over the ballet, and the stage. I pulled out my lasso and began to strangle the man that had irritated me for so many decades. I did not intend for him to fall, but the peir was too loose and thin, and he fell straight to the stage.

Utter chaos ensued, and I ran. Hopefully most of the audience would believe it was only a suicide, but those within the Opera would know who had caused this mayhem. I tried to find Ann but was thwarted by Christine and Raoul racing upwards. I followed them silently. My beautiful Christine was afraid, afraid of me and my actions.

I knew they would head up to the roof, the highest point away from my dark lair, and I took a small shortcut. Raoul burst through the door and tried to tell Christine there was no Phantom of The Opera. I wanted to jump out and push him off right then, but Christine began to talk. She told him of me, of my face and my voice.

She pitied me, believing me to so sad and forlorn. I did not want her pity, I wanted her love, her compassion. She was in no way compassionate as she began to talk to Raoul. I heard him start to sing, and it was as irritating and flat as Carlotta. My heart bled that night, and my tears mingled with the snow.

Christine pledged her love to him, that fop, and I felt as if the ground below had opened and hell had welcomed me home. I turned a corner just as she began to kiss him, and my bleeding heart turned to ice. I was empty, a shell with no life, no mind, and I was ready to simply die. She loved him, it was true, and she pitied me, her Angel, the man who had deceived her.

I cried as I held the rose she had dropped. Once long ago she used to keep them in a vase as they dried, but now they no longer mattered. Raoul could afford to buy her diamonds and crystals, but all I had to offer was my love and my music. I cried for that love, which was slowly wilting as the flower crumpled in my hand. She had no right to betray me like that, to hurt me.

I grew angry, and my tears of sorrow became tears of agitation. I ran to the Angel Statue above the Paris Opera Populaire, and screamed. "You will curse the day you did not do, all that the Phantom asked of you!" I screamed it not only to Christine, but to the Managers, to Ann, and to the entire city of Paris.

I had the entire population beneath my feet, and I raised my hand to give it the finger. I flipped the entire city of Paris, France my finger and screamed in Agony.