A/N- I'm sorry, but I needed another filler chappie… please don't forget to review since you all worship me so much!

Liposuction

"Erik, Raoul wants to kill you!" I exclaimed rather bluntly. Well, I wasn't in the mood to beat around the bush and I wanted to be sure that Erik would heed my warning. To my surprise, Erik's facial expression did not change in the slightest.

"My dear, most everyone that I meet wants me dead," Erik responded, chuckling. I just sat there, mouth agape. Perhaps I should rephrase my statement. Let's try again.

"Erik, Raoul came into my room with the managers. All three of them want me to perform your opera, Don Juan. They say that if I perform, you are certain to attend. Then, while you sit in Box Five, they will have hidden policemen use you as target practice!" I nearly shouted the whole ridiculous plan into his ears, even though he was only two feet away from me. The poor guy must hear a ringing in his ears.

"Two things are wrong with their plan, my dear," he said, as jovial as before. "Number one: they have not, in all the years I have resided in this opera house, spotted me when I sat in Box Five. Unless, of course, I made myself visible to frighten ballet rats. Number two: I do not plan on being in Box Five. I will attend, but not from my usual seat." he concluded.

"Oh," I breathed simply. Well, at least I didn't have to worry about Erik's safety. If he didn't want to be caught, then no one alive would be able to catch him.

"Well, shall we begin our lesson, Christine?" Erik asked.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Passarino, go away for the trap is set and waits for its prey." Ugh, Piangi is singing again. Damn. It was the last day before the performance of Don Juan, and Piangi was still having difficulty hitting the right notes. He preferred to beat them to a bloody pulp. I just wanted to stuff wads of cotton in my ears, for his voice was almost as bad as Carlotta's.

You know, "Dream Christine's" world has this procedure called "liposuction." Maybe I should recommend it to Piangi. Then again, he would probably have a seizure at the mention of "liposuction." Big words confuse him.

So, I was to play the lead with the rotund Piangi. He was Don Juan, and I was Amnita. Although I was to be his passionate lover, with every calorie he consumed it became increasingly difficult for me to be passionate about him. I mean, come on!

Thank God rehearsals were over. I was getting tired of listening to Piangi's voice, as there was a striking similarity between his voice and the mournful trumpet of a dying elephant. Not that I've ever heard a dying elephant…

I went back to my room immediately and collapsed onto the bed, too exhausted to even bother getting dinner or changing out of my practice outfit. I was instantly asleep.

I was walking over to my friend's house. It was a gorgeous night, not a cloud in the sky. There was a light breeze in the spring air, and I twirled around once with my arms out. Of course, the ribbon in my hair flew away.

I ran to go get it. It lay in the middle of an empty street. Of course I was going to get it! There were no cars around! As I crossed the street, however, a truck came careening down the street, seemingly from nowhere. It was obvious that the driver was drunk, for the car was going way over the speed limit and weaving across the road wildly. It was impossible for me to get off of the road in time. I just prayed to God that the driver would see me. God did not listen. Everything went cold and black.

Whoa! Dream Christine died! I looked at the clock on the wall. 2:38 A.M. So, Dream Christine died on the day that I would be performing Don Juan. I wondered if that was significant in any way, other than the fact that my alter ego was officially dead. I had an ominous feeling of dread, for I knew that tonight's performance would be disastrous. I just prayed that no one would be killed in the performance of Don Juan.

Although it was extremely early in the morning, I would not be able to fall back asleep. So, I decided to go pay Erik a visit. After all, it must get lonely five stories under ground…

Erik wasn't in the music room when I entered his home. Of course, he has to sleep occasionally. Considering that it was the dead of night, I was willing to bet my blanket (a/n- Mere, Sharon, remember English class?) that he was asleep. Of course I was right.
Erik lay in his coffin in the middle of his dark room. In sleep he looked so…peaceful. Like he was still a child of only nine years old. I stepped over to stand next to the coffin, and Erik's eyes flew open. When he saw that it was me who had disturbed his sleep, he relaxed and stood up.

"Why do you sleep in a coffin?" I inquired. He made no response.

Instead, he asked me, "What brings you down here so early in the morning?"

I knew I sounded childish when I said, "I couldn't sleep." Erik just chuckled lightly at my infantile response. He then led me to the room I had stayed in during my last visit. I lay down in bed, miraculously feeling slightly sleepy. Erik turned to go, but I caught his arm. I needed say no words, for all he had to do was look into my eyes to see what I wanted. He then lay down beside me on the bed. I curled up next to him and, without a second thought, rested my head on his chest. I fell asleep to the steady rhythm of Erik's breathing.

Sorry it was so short, but I was writing this at ten o'clock at night. Forgive me.