Disclaimer: I do not own PotO or any of it's characters, lyrics, ideas, descriptions...etc. At least, not until I manage to find the contract I signed with any people who own those rights in my past life. I do own original characters such as Katrina and Cira, and most descriptions of their details.
In modern Paris...
Cira looked up at the entrance to the Opera house. You had been invited by your friend Katrina a few months earlier. Delighted to hear from your dearest friend, you had flown practically the next plane out of your home in Virginia to here. Being here briefly stirred memories of your obsession with the Phantom of the Opera a few years back. Subconsciously you wonder if that was another reason you had come, but staring at the great stone building, you wondered if any reason was good enough to step foot in such a grand place. If it had ever been burnt down, which it probably hadn't! you chide yourself, they had done a magnificent job rebuilding it.
"Hey! Cira, are you going to stand there and gawk all day or are you going to come in?" Katrina yelled from the doors into the building. "You know, your stupid suitcases are really heavy. I could just leave them and you out here and..."
"Alright, alright! I'm coming mother dearest." you answer jokingly, and carefully run up the stairs, trying to hurry and stay out of someone elses way, even if few people were there. Entering the building, you keep walking, but stare even more at all the bright colors around you. It was built somewhat modernly, but banners, curtains, and glass covered lights gave the polished stone lobby an older look, and it was beautiful. But, sadly, Katrina's patience with a place she was well familiar with was not endless, and you were dragged up multiple stairs until you reach a hall with multiple doors down it. The Opera house was still used as a place to live during your career, which was interesting considering. Katrina brought you into a room in the middle of the hall and threw your things unceremoniously to the ground, leaving you staring at the piccolo in your hand with relief, glad you had carried it yourself. Damn things were so hard to tune...
"If my shoes were made of glass they would be broken, and then what would you do?" You asked with an air of mock sadness.
"Um...Tell you that they were stupid to buy anyway?" Katrina joked.
You sighed and smiled at her, and looked around your temporary, or possibly even your new home. The walls were a soft green, the furniture was a dark red wood, there was a yellow and white themed bathroom to the side, a window with a view of the entrance to the building, and a full length mirror in the corner near your bed. Thinking of your bedroom back home, you knew if you didn't get into the Opera houses permanent cast list, you would have to be dragged by Katrina back to the airport...
"You know, they gave you Christine Daae's old room Cira..." Katrina said in a quiet, scary tone.
"Don't be silly. There isn't really a ghost Katrina. The Phantom doesn't exist, and if he did... Well, he wouldn't anymore." you scoffed at her, still knowing that you wished you could meet the Phantom somewhere in your mind. Katrina looked shocked and proceeded to berate you with reasons why he did, slyly inserting the fact that Marissa Giry was the current ballet teacher, the grand-daughter of Madame Giry.
"You never mentioned that. Is that true...?" You ask, suspicious and yet, interested. She grinned, and simply started on a long string of random topics loosely related to you question that might eventually answer it, unaware you were being watched.
Behind the mirror, a safe distance away, a figure in black stood, boredly listening to the two girls talking about his...Story, with random topics inserted between. The young, pink haired child named Katrina, who had adequate talent as an alto in the Opera house, seemed to be talking to this newcomer like an old friend. But that was what bothered him today. He made it his business to know all about everyone that was in his theater, and all he could tell about this girl who had taken the late Miss Daae, well, the late Mrs. deChagny's room was that she played piccolo, her voice suggested an alto range, and that she was friends with the pink haired hyper thing that was the only one who still told stories of his tale, unless you counted the aloof ballet instructor, Miss Giry. He really wished that family would leave... As he saw the new girl start looking at the mirror with unnecessary interest he left quietly the way he had come.
Um. Dun dun dun... Until next time. Review, tell me what needs fixing etc., and give any ideas you have for plot. I have a plot in mind... But I need at least one side plot, at least it would be nice, before we go into that. And in case you didn't catch it all, you play Cira, who has shoulder lentgh dark brown hair, gray eyes, and you wear a half mask to cover a medical condition. Yes. I did say it. No, you won't know what until later.