The Very Secret Diary of the Phantom of the Opera
Day 1: Have been watching chorus girl Christine for the past few months. Finally got up courage to speak to her. Chickened out when she asked my name, and said I was the angel of music.
Day 2: Am annoying those ballet rats by teaching Christine to sing in the middle of the night. Serves them right, prancing around in those provocative outfits that keep other people up at night. What is Mme. Giry thinking with those bondage-influenced ballet routines anyway? She was never that kinky back when I dated her.
What, who did you think Meg's father was? Fool.
Day 3: Opera House is being taken over by homosexuals. My masculinity feels challenged in the presence of so much gay pride. Reasserted self-worth by dropping scenery on Carlotta, who had a quite satisfying fit at the new managers. In ironic way, led to Christine being chosen to sing her part. Thanks to me, she sounds like the awesomeness. Go me! Hope whatever the female lead is wearing in tonight's play has a low neckline.
Later That Night: Was watching Christine undress after performance when foppish young Vicomte interrupted. And she was just about to take off her bra too. Dammit. Insolent fop disturbingly sexy. Before I punjab lasso him, must ask who does his hair. He did not seem to notice that Christine was in her underwear either. Perhaps Vicomte gay? If so, may take him down to my lair for a few hours of fun before murdering him.
When fop left, I scolded Christine for speaking to him. She's mine, I called first. Christine gave very satisfactory apology. Esp. pleased with the "show me thy will, master" bit. That was hot.
Even Later That Night: Lured her through revolving mirror and took her to mylair. Christine dissappointingly easy to seduce. Is pretty good in bed but does not have much in the way of personality. Perhaps next time will kidnap Vicomte instead. Have unexplainable urge to run my fingers through his hair.
Day 4: V. angry at Christine. Little trollop crept up while I was playing piano and minding my own business, and stole my mask. So embarrasing. To add insult to injury, she didn't even seem frightened. Began rambling about my other parts. What good is a deformity if you can't scare people with it? V. put out by this. Sent her to her room and told her to think about what she'd done.
Wrote ominous notes to managers only to have them sing the threats show-tune style. Majorly weirded out by this. Feel a headache coming on.
Day 5: My casting suggestions have obviously been ignored. Am forming a plan.
Later That Night: Between scenes switched Carlotta and frog. No one noticed the difference until the frog croaked. Audience v. entertained. Performers took it in stride. Decided to mix things up by punjab lassoing a stagehand and dropping him on the ballet rats. Perfect chaotic scene resulted. Making ballet rats scream great fun.
Christine used terror of occasion as bait to lure Vicomte into her clutches. Very jealous. Not sure which of them to be jealous of. Am beginning to rather fancy Vicomte, but Christine sings prettier and is willing to shag me.
Day 6: Have hatched brilliant scheme to lure Raoul into the opera house and my clutches. Will demand that managers perform that Don Juan opera I wrote last month, and demand that they put Christine in the lead. As for Raoul, if Miss Daae sings, he is certain to attend. So I get him into the Opera House that way, then perform a dramatic bimbo-napping on stage, with background music hinting that I am taking her to my lair.
And when Raoul arrives… and I have both of them locked in there with me… I shall do a striptease. Am certain at least one of them will succumb to my animal magnetism. Maybe both. Oooh, both. Now there's an idea.
Day 7: Christine doesn't want to be in the play. Ungrateful whelp. All this "Make me a star" business was obviously just an excuse to get into my pants. Feel used. Glum. Raoul managed to convince her to perform in show anyway. Am now determined that he shall be my loverboy.
Later that night: He followed her to her bedroom and instead of inviting him in, she shut the door in his face. So he went to sleep outside her door. Poor thing, felt v. bad for him. Christine tried to sneak out and tripped over him. Of course he woke up and followed her. On white horse, no less. Then again, never really expected any creativity from him. Is pretty, but dumber than a rock.
Christine eventually ended up at graveyard and started singing to her father. That's right, the dead one. Hid behind tombstone and started singing back. Scared the hell out of her, and Raoul, who had been hiding in the bushes watching. Am a bit bothered by this singing to dead people thing. Perhaps has necrophiliac tendencies. Also, is still calling me "phantom," even though made it quite clear that I am alive. Why does no one remember my name! Perhaps should shorten it to just "Er" to make it easier. Er. Er. I kinda like that.
Raoul fopped profusely and took Christine back to her dormitory. Stupid Christine. Stupid dormitory. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Plan to throw Christine in the lake tomorrow.
Day 8: Operatic masterpiece buggered up by amateurs. Punjab lassoed Piangi and sang his part. I sing prettier than he does, so there. Christine v. cute in costume. Am having second thoughts about throwing her in lake. Pulled off dramatic kidnapping without a hitch.
Even though Mme. Giry gave clear instructions and drew a map on his hand, Raoul got lost and ended up in washing machine. Seemed to think it was torture room. Managed to rescue him halfway through the rinse cycle. Idiot.
When Raoul finally found his way to main room of lair, used punjab lasso to tie him to grate. Oh my. Boy is so hot, all flushed and wet and tied up like that. Tried to come up with excuse to leave him that way, decided to tell Christine to choose between us. Christine takes an hour every morning just to decide how to do her hair, figured she would take a few days. Instead, plan backfired as Christine threw herself at me and tried to stick her tongue down my throat. Not that it wasn't nice. Was v. nice. Except heard mob coming, and did not wish to be caught in compromising position (i.e. making out with lead soprano while groping wet, tied up Vicomte.) Have the dignity of the opera to uphold. Stupid opera.
Reluctantly untied Vicomte and shooed them out. Slipped both of them my number. Vicomte was singing when they left. Such a good voice. Think I know who my next pupil will be.
AN: I put a note about this ina laterchapter, but since not everyone seems to be reading that far, I'll put it here too. I am fully aware that Eric is not gay! If you read the LotR Very Secret Diaries, by which this was inspired, you'll get it. It's not just a parody of the story, but of fan fiction in general- particularly the element of making people randomly gay and putting them in strange, out of character relationships with each other.
Nothing in here is meant to be taken seriously. I apologize to everyone who I have offended by not making that clear enough.
And I'm sorry that I laughed when I read your comments. I couldn't help it. You're funny.