Disclaimer: Although it would be incredibly sweet if I owned Phantom of the Opera, I don't. I don't own anything except my idea and my characters. -grumbles-

TheAngel'sMaggie: Thank you! -abnormally large grin- Isn't Gerry the most gorgeous dude ever! I love him. He's spoiled me for anyone else. I always compare people to him, lol. Hope you enjoy this chapter!

xxXGoddessXofXdeadXloveXxx: Thank you so much! I'm glad that at least one person who was reading my old fic came to read this one. Enjoy!

Texas Rose: Thank you! I actually don't like the way I write but everyone else does. I shall continue, and I hope you continue to read.

Sorry I took so long to put this up, it's just that my comp was down forever. Not my fault, I don't know what was up with it. Just wanted to tell you guys, cuz I know that some people who were reading my last fic know I'm really lazy. Also, finals are coming up (AND I HAVE NO NOTES! GAH!) so I have to go steal the reviews from my friends and work my ass off.

Hey, I just realized that my character from my first fic and my character from my second have the same initials (N. L.). Odd, but whatever. Ok, for anyone who doesn't know, Wagner College is a college on Staten Island (in New York City) that has a really awesome performing arts program. I just had to make my charrie go there as a tribute to my completely boring hometown. Also, I know this isn't even remotely amusing yet, but bear with me, eh? And it's not random humor either, it's just humor humor. Although I love random humor, randomness doesn't fit in with my plot.

Cheers, and enjoy!

Chapter 2 - Manhattan, 2005

"Think of me, think of me fondly, la de da de da..." Nessa Lochlann murmured to herself as she flitted around her apartment, collecting dirty dishes. "Remember me, once in a while, please promise me you'll...damn it." A cup fell to the floor, shattering across the linoleum tiles. She sighed, placing the dishes on her counter and pulling the broom from a cupboard. "Ugh, I don't have time for this!" she wailed. "I've got to leave for those auditions! This is the chance of a lifetime, and if I miss it, I shall beat myself senseless!"

These auditions were indeed the chance of a lifetime. If she got the part in these auditions, not only would her childhood dream come true, but she'd have enough money to get out of this cruddy apartment.

Nessa was auditioning for the part of Christine Daae on Broadway. She probably wouldn't have even known about it if it wasn't for her sleazy agent Jimmy Taduso. He'd "discovered" her after she'd starred in a play in her senior year at Wagner College. "I'm gonna make you a star, baby!" he'd said with his arm around her, his breath smelling horribly of stale smoke. "You're gonna be the next big thing, babe!" Four years later, she was still eating Ramen noodles from the pot and working as a cashier. Of course she had to be the only one in the family who had so far done nothing with her life.

Nessa scurried to her bathroom to take a last glance at herself. Her green eyes squinted at the reflection. Her long curly brown hair was confined in a neat ponytail, but a few strands fell on the shoulder of her black shirt. Satisfied with herself, she flew out of the door to grab her portfolio, her skirt swishing around her legs. "Goodbye, love!" She blew a kiss to her black cat Shawnnyboy, and slammed the door.

"Next for the part of the Phantom, Erik Destler?" the casting director called, looking up from his clipboard. A cloaked figure rose from the back seats and strode towards the stage. The figure jogged up the stairs and stepped into the spotlight, revealing a tall, well-built man in dark, old-fashioned clothing. A white mask covered half of the face, the other half smirking confidently. The smirk was also partly at the blinding colors of the casting director's outfit. People just didn't know how to dress anymore.

Yes, Erik was auditioning. Not to actually get the part, however. No, he was just building up some self-worth by auditioning, for he knew that he'd get the part. How could he not when he was the real and true Phantom, who had originally sung the songs? He wouldn't accept the part when he got it though. He'd say he was moving to Canada or something.

He'd even gotten spruced up for the occasion. He'd had his mask professionally cleaned, and he'd gotten a new outfit. True, he'd had to go to some store called "Madame Llewellyn's Victorian Outfitters" to get anything suitable, but he'd managed.

"Ok, Mr. Destler." the casting manager said after looking this strange man up and down for a moment. "Why exactly do you want this part?"

"Why, you ask?" Erik replied, raising an eyebrow. "Because I am the rightful Phantom of the Opera." He looked down at them haughtily from the stage. There was silence from the manager and his underlings.

"Alrighty then..." the man continued. "Just sing a little something for us, please?"

Erik breathed in, preparing to sing.

"Nighttime sharpens, heightens each sensation...

Darkness stirs and wakes imagination!

Silently the senses abandon their defenses.

Slowly, gently, night unfurls its splendor,

Grasp it, sense it, tremulous and tender.

Turn your face away from the garish light of day,

Turn your thoughts away from cold, unfeeling light -
and listen to the music of the night ...

Close your eyes and surrender to your darkest dreams!

Purge your thoughts of the life you knew before!

Close your eyes, let your spirit start to soar!

And you'll live as you've never lived before-

The man held his hand up, signaling for Erik to stop. "That was very nice, Mr. Destler. Unfortunately we believe we've already found someone for the part. So thank you very much, and goodbye." The men started to put away some of their papers, leaving Erik dumbstruck on stage.

"Then, then..." he stammered. "Then why did you even audition me?" He could feel anger, confusion, and hurt rising in his chest.

"Well, we couldn't just kick you out when you'd been waiting for 3 hours. It would be way too impolite, don't you think?" The man said casually. "Now, a good day to you, sir. Next is auditions for Christine, correct, men?" he added to his companions, who nodded.

"But...but I am the rightful Phantom of the Opera! I am, I tell you! You aren't just going to leave me here, god damn you!" Erik snarled at the men, who very nonchalantly continued to rearrange their papers. "I know every single word, every single melody, I know what happens in Don Juan Triumphant after The Point of No Return! You turn me away even though I know better than anyone else the story? How dare you!"

"Now, now, Mr. Destler, everyone thinks they deserve the part. You're no different from anyone else." the man glared at Erik, who was breathing heavily in rage. "Now, please leave before we have to force you."

"No different! No different!" Erik cried. "This is no different!" In a complete rage, he tore off his mask, throwing it at the men. The men drew back making noises of slight disgust.

"Ugh, that's disgusting!" The casting director remarked. "Who on earth would do that to themselves just to get a part? Security!"

Two burly men promptly emerged from the shadows. One handed Erik his mask back before they each grabbed Erik by the arms and pulled him outside.

Nessa was standing outside of the Majestic, calming herself down before going in. "It'll be okay, Nessa..." she assured herself halfheartedly. "I mean, what can they do if they don't like you? Have some burly security guards throw you into the street?"

The door of the theatre opened. For a fleeting second, she saw the outline of two muscular men before a man was thrown through the door. The man sprawled on the ground, his dark, old-fashioned cape billowing about him. He coughed and made an odd sound that she assumed to be a groan of pain.

"Oh my God! Are you okay, sir?" she asked anxiously, staring at the form on the ground. The man looked up at her, glaring. He was handsome, from what she could see of his face. Half of it was covered by a white mask. She supposed that he was trying to show them how good he'd look in costume. He did look quite a bit like the Phantom she'd always envisioned.

"I'm fine, if that is what you're asking." the man growled, trying to get up, but wincing in pain. "I suggest that you don't meddle in my business."

"Oh...um, ok...sorry, sir." Nessa tried to ignore him for a little while, but it was getting increasingly difficult to ignore the grunts and thumps as he tried to right himself. "Um, are you sure you're okay?" she said, turning back to the strange man. "Because you could use my cellphone to call a friend or an ambulance, if you'd like."

The man finally staggered to his feet, albeit with difficulty. "First of all, I have already informed you, mademoiselle, that I am in no need of your assistance." he hissed. "Second of all, even if I was in need of your help, which I'm not, I have no idea what you're talking about anyway. Friends? Ha! Who would befriend me, mademoiselle? Who would befriend the angel in hell?" With that, he limped away, cursing under his breath.

Nessa stared after him. "Wow." she thought. "You can't get through a day without seeing some freak walking the streets of New York. Angel in hell? Someone's a tad too obsessed with Phantom. Then again, I really shouldn't be talking..." She let out a heavy sigh, rubbing her arms to warm herself. Although it was mid-April, spring was coming along pretty slowly that year.

The door to the Majestic opened again. This time a small, slender man came out. He lit a cigarette and coughed. Glancing at Nessa, he grunted, "You just standing there, or are you here for auditions?"

"I'm, uh, here for auditions." Nessa replied, staring at the man. He too was clad oddly, with a lime green shirt, black tie with yellow polka dots, and pink and purple pinstriped pants. "Why, are they starting?"

"Yep." The man took a long drag from his cigarette. "You better hurry. They're just waiting for me and then they'll begin."

"Oh, you must be Mr. Home, the casting director." Nessa gave him a small smile. "My agent Jimmy told me about you."

"Jimmy? Jimmy Taduso? He's your agent?" Mr. Home raised an eyebrow. "Listen, kid, I'd watch out if I were you. Jimmy's a gangster and a con artist, and he don't like to be messed with. He'll rob you blind."

"Yeah, I know." Nessa sighed, turning to go into the theatre.

The apartment was silent except for the TV playing softly in the background and loud salsa music playing downstairs. Nessa sat on her tattered couch staring at the TV. The newscasters were making jokes about the weather, but she wasn't really watching it. Sighing, she reached for the phone and slowly dialed. A man picked up.

"'Lo."

"Hey, Rick."

"Ah, hey, Ness, what's up, babe? How'd the audition go?"

"I'll know next week, but I know I didn't make it." Nessa curled up on the couch.

"Aw, come on, babe."

"My voice was too shaky, and I think it cracked a bit."

A heavy sigh was heard on the other line.

"Look, Ness, I gotta go. The guys are here and we're all gonna go to the bar."

"Fine. See ya." She hung up, glaring at the phone. Rick wasn't really around much anymore. He could've at least let her rant for a few more minutes. But now, she needed someone to talk to. She looked through the numbers on her cellphone. Dara was always with her new boyfriend, Stacy had moved to California, Kalim was somewhere in Africa doing charity work with his boyfriend, and Mia never picked up when she called. She let out another sigh, leaning back and staring at the ceiling. In college they'd promised they'd always stay together, but now here she was, alone and friendless.

Friendless...made her think about that oddball outside the Majestic. She wondered if he was sitting in his apartment as glum as she was.

Erik was sitting in his lair, an incredibly glum expression on his face. This had not been a good day whatsoever. Those morons had rejected him for the part that he'd created, he'd cracked his best mask and now had to wear his spare, and those security guards had sprained his ankle. Damn them all to the ninth circle of hell.

Then that wench had to pretend to be all anxious and caring. Well, maybe not pretend. She really didn't have a reason to pretend. Come to think of it, she'd been rather nice, offering him...whatever she'd offered. Cellphone? What on earth was a cellphone? Probably some useless modern doohickey.

He groaned, adjusting his ankle on the arms of his chair. Well, at least soon they'd have an all-new cast for him to terrorize. Even the smallest things were fun, like poking some unsuspecting slob in the back. They'd turn around and no one was there. Rather amusing it was, although he had to admit, it was quite petty.

Yawning, Erik slowly got up. It had been a long, exhausting day, and he was definitely ready for bed. He limped to his bedroom and slid the curtain closed.