((New fanfic… again. I'm getting rid of my other Phantom one and the Pokemon one. I WILLL UPDATE THIS ONE!)) Yeah, I will. This story is based off of a dream I had… a good dream. xD Not a nightmare. And no, it wasn't perverted, for those whose minds are trying to guess what it was, and are coming out with some wrong images. oo;; Anyways, this story takes place about 5 months after Meg found the mask. Oh, yeah, this is a weird mixture between Broadway and the book. I'm almost finished with the book. I was going to watch the Lon Chaney version for the movie, but I broke it. Now I have to pay the library. Grrreeeeaaat. Anyways, everyone thinks the Phantom is gone, Christine becomes the Prima Donna of the theater, she and Raoul are getting married, Carlotta stays at the theater as a supporting actress, Meg Giry becomes even more skittish after finding the mask, which she still has. Madame Giry has no idea where the Phantom is, and she is convinced it is her fault that the Phantom's heart was broken, and that he ran away, and might be dead. Anyways… enjoy!))

Box Five was sold that night. The managers hadn't sold it for a very long time, but now, they sold it, thinking the Phantom was gone. But was he? The box was sold to a young girl, around the age of 15.

"Give the seat to the young; they need to get more into the arts," Monsieur Richard said to his partner. So the box was sold, and a performance of Il Muto was played.

They say that this youth has set my lady's heart aflame. The music started, and box five was occupied. Other than the girl that the managers had been talking about, a male figure was sitting in a seat next to her. The girl thought this was simply the other person who bought the box, and ignored him.

She had spiky hair, which was pulled back into a low ponytail, with strands hanging down, almost covering her left eye. She has a light orange dress on, with white gloves that propped her face up. Her pale green eyes watched as the scene played below her. Box Five was expensive, but really worth it. Her parents would be glad; they were the ones that requested that she would go. They lived in London; she stayed in a small flat here, in Paris. She looked at the male.

A black mask hid his face, with his eyes glowing underneath it. He was simply a black clod, clothes covered ever inch of him. He watched intently as Christine Daae sang her part.

Poor fool, he makes me laugh. Carlotta strutted around the stage, playing the part of the pageboy. Miss Daae was having great triumph. She was constentley glancing up into a box where a young man, the Vicomte de Changy, was sitting. The man continued staring at Christine with a look mixed with love, hate, and sadness. He looked at the Vicomte with pure hatred.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

After the performance, the young girl got up. She bumped into the man.

"'Scuse." she said. The man gave her a look. She just smiled weakly at him. He continued to stare menacingly at her. Then, when everyone had left the theater he grabbed her wrist. His gloved hand was bony, his grip was tight.

"Listen," he hissed to the girl, causing her to cower in fear. "You shall tell no one about me. If you sit in this box again, I shall be there. Do not tell anyone, or else." His words were spoken with such force, that the girl knew that he would do anything, murder even, if she disobeyed him.

"Do you understand," He paused, and gave a small smirk. "Selene Boursier?"

((And done! Cliffy… oooh.))