A/N: Thanks to all you guys. Here, I'm updating. Oh, just in case I confuzzled anyone, the italics after Christine got an F on her essay, that was a note from Spreadborogh, not her thoughts.
Beverly Vulcan Princess-:bother:bother:bother:bothers Kit Anika- Wildmage since she hasn't reviewed since yelling at me about being desperate:bother:
Onashii-Raoul going bald…intriguing idea. Imagine his disgust… :giggles evilly:
Phantomlover22-Don't you hate that? And I'm definitely writing more. And who says that the ballet and the alto lead are gone? There is a certain Erik to be reckoned with!
Dragima-All I'm willing to promise is that Raoul won't die. And he'll be keeping his extremities.
Silvermasque-WAAH! Silvermasque HATES me:calms down: I was just channeling Raoul. :runs around screaming:takes off to the nearest church for purification:
Maidenhair-Oh… So THAT'S where that phic went. Thanks for the tip
Maidenhair-Raoul is an idiot. This will never change.
Maidenhair-TOAST… TOAST is the food of life. Isis, the Egyptian goddess (or Goa'uld, whichever way you slice it) knows this. TOAST TOAST TOAST!
IflyNAVY-Well, who else would it be? A janitor with a Shakespeare fetish?
Nixieharpist-You have to swear on Raoul's dismembered head that you'll never tell ANYONE. Mrs. Bowers IS my choir teacher. But I NEVER HAVE TO STEP FOOT IN HER SCHOOL EVER AGAIN! HOORAY FOR HIGH SCHOOL!
Daisy Diva-I'll warn you, then. THIS PHIC CONTAINS RAOUL BASHING!
♫ ♫ ♫
I hate the world, he thought. But I really hate the chunk of the world I'm residing on right now. He desperately wanted to talk to Christine, maybe take her to dinner or something. He mostly just wanted to make sure that that blonde yuppie hadn't swept her off her feet. The only thing that was stopping him was…himself. He knew she must be disturbed enough already. She was Christine Daae. Her best friend was Meg Giry. Another close friend was Cécile Jammes. Now this Raoul Changy. Not to mention Charlotté Williams, who was only not named Carlotta by a mishap by her parents, when her father misheard Carlotta as Charlotta. Charlotta was spelled Charlotté because it looked fancier. He knew if he was in Christine's shoes, he'd be panicking. He could only imagine the freak-out she would have if a mysterious cloaked, masked man named Erik who lived in her school theater came up and asked her out one day. I hate the world, he thought. I really hate the chunk I'm residing on, I really hate the chunk Raoul's residing on, but I really hate the chunk Gaston Leroux is buried on. I guess my mother thought it was funny to name me Erik. She probably figured it'd get a good laugh at all those parties she went to.
At the sound of approaching footsteps, Erik drew back even further into the shadows. The door to the auditorium slammed open, revealing Christine clutching a boombox.
"I really hope this theater is empty," she announced. "As I am about to make a complete and utter fool of myself and would appreciate if no one was watching."
As Erik watched, she climbed up on the stage again and set down the boombox. She manipulated a few controls and stood up at center stage. A few seconds later, music came out of the box. Erik recognized it as the Overture for the Andrew Lloyd Webber version of The Phantom of the Opera. Christine started dancing around crazily, causing him to raise an eyebrow. After the song ended, Christine paused her CD and curtsied.
"Thank you, I enjoyed myself, now I need food." This time, when she left, she didn't come back.
♫ ♫ ♫
Why on earth did I just do that? Christine wondered. What purpose did that accomplish? Well, it's the closest you'll get to performing that you'll ever get, another voice answered. Oh, shove it, she replied.
She walked across the street from the school to Casablanca, her favorite Mexican restaurant. As she walked in and sat at a table, she noticed that her boombox was earning her some strange looks. As the waiter asked what she'd like to drink, she considered asking for a frozen margarita, but ordered a Dr Pepper instead. For her meal, she got Vegetarian B, two bean burritos. It was good, like always, but she wished that she'd brought headphones so she could listen to her music during her meal.
After she left Casablanca, Christine resumed her walk home, stopping only to wave to her friend as she passed Antoinette Giry's dance studio, where she taught additional lessons to her classes, as well as pupils who weren't in high school yet. Meg shot her an I'm dying here, can't you rescue me look, before turning away from the window so her mother wouldn't notice.
♫ ♫ ♫
"Again, Meg!" Antoinette barked. "You are not focused! We will stay here until you get it right!"
"But Mom…" Meg said.
"Dance Masters of America is in a matter of weeks! You are not ready! You must perfect your solo!"
"But-"
"I do not care! Again, Meg!"
♫ ♫ ♫
A/N: I'll admit, it was short, it went nowhere, but I'm going swimming in Lake Guntersville, so fwah!
