The Start of Something Strange

When things start to unfurl in ways that even Madame Giry never expected on such a wonderful season. How can anyone, especially Erik cope up with all the snow, gift-giving, stockings, and perhaps Santa? A Crazy Christmas story. My first fanfic ever, so please R&R and cut me some slack.

Disclaimer: I don't own POTO but that doesn't mean that it doesn't occasionally come up in my dreams. Any additional characters that appear in this fic are totally from my head, which means there're completely fictional. Many thanks to Gaston Leroux (for writing such a great novel) and Andrew Lloyd Webber (for creating the musical).

Chapter 1 The Start of Something Strange

In the heart of Paris, the exuberant city of lights and the fine arts, many men and women in all of Europe sought to witness and bask in the glory of the wonderful world that it has to offer. The Opera Populaire, the largest opera house yet is a majestic monument of beauty at its peak with great prestige. From the words of many who ventured forth in its vast artistic domain, an experience like none other could be felt. This feeling of entering a completely different realm of music, passion, and the unexpected is present. For it is quite uncommon for such a place to house a ghost whose genius knew no bounds.

The first week of Christmas has arrived once more in everyone's calendars all around the globe. The joyous time that we call Christmas is in the air and in the minds of everybody in the Opera Populaire. However, there is one man or should I say opera ghost, that is the least bit eager to celebrate and his name is Erik.

December 2, 1869, within the walls of the Opera Populaire, on the stage front and centre the ballet girls were feverishly going over the routine and dance moves they had just received for the upcoming opera Faust.

Meg, one of the more curious ballet girls asked "Why are we doing the opera Faust and not a more Christmassy play?"

"Well", Madame Giry replied with an air of self-assurance and a general wonderment "I too am not as sure as to how our managers made such a decision. Who knows maybe it was recommended by the patrons of our opera house, or maybe they just felt like having it."

OooooooooooooooooO

Begin Flashback

2 days ago… the managers went inside their office to discuss private matters, and during this time at the end of every month you can be quite sure that one of the topics that had floated within the room was which opera would be next played onstage, but how?

Pacing back and forth in large ever changing oval pattern, tension and anxiety was written on Firmin's face all over. Finally he found the right words in his mind and they quickly ran up to his mouth, breaking the ice.

"So... what's next on our list Andre? The opening gala night was a smashing success, and we've got to keep up with the standards if we want to exceed the audience's expections."

"Quite right", answered Andre while he sat on an office chair right behind the big managers desk with a calm and happy look.

After Firmin caught a glimpse of his face, he could not help but lash out a comment with a sharp tongue. "How can you act like a cold vegetable on such an important issue? Do you even have any half-baked ideas in your head? Let's see if you can make up a solution?"

Andre sighed disappointedly, then he took another deep breath, preparing himself for the words he had carefully chosen to help him get even from such a callous remark.

"I guess it never occured to you that perhaps this cold vegetable you speak of has sprouted some seeds. Observe." He drew out a huge circular wooden board that looked a lot like a blank dart board.

"Because a game of darts is the solution to all out problems?" Firmin sarcastically said.

"Maybe or maybe not", Andre said in a half chuckle, "but one things for sure is that we can easily decide on what opera we're hosting every month or two. We both write on a bunch of small pieces of parchment several names of the best operas ever created and sticking them all up with tiny tum tacks", doing a little demonstration, "like so, on our motionless roulette in concentric circles. Kind of like an archer's target only with a few details changed."

"My God Andre that's wonderful, let's get started, we're wasting time."

With much zeal and enthusiasm they both scribbled all the best and popular operas they and their handy-dandy-everything-you-need-about-running-an-operahouse-with-an-opera-ghost-haunting-it-enclyclopedia could think of. Up to twenty three parchment pieces were stuck on their motionless. They were ready to give it a try.

Andre dug into the desk drawer for a nice dart-like object to hurl first since he won from a quick game of rock-paper-scissors. When he felt in his hand what he was looking for he swiftly took it out and threw it without even checking what exactly did he just pulled out of the drawer.

It was a quill.

Softly and gently it fell on floor a foot or two in front of Andre, far from the target up on the wall.

A loud burst of laughter escaped from Firmin as he walked, staggering along the way towards the desk with one hand on his stomach as it was beginning to hurt from all the laugh cramps.

"Ha ha ha, ohhhh that's rich." He grinned, struggling to talk between his loud laughs, managed to grab a silverish metal pen from the drawer and threw it at the board.

The mystery opera piece that met the end of Firmin's pen dart was none other than...well you it...Faust.

"And that... is how it's done."

End Flashback

OooooooooooooooooO

Madame Giry broke the silence as she walked up the front stage after being called by the back-stage cast. "I just heard the most bizarre incident from our fellow back-stage crew. Someone dumped all of the men's costumes in the pink-dye tub!"

A handful of the ballet girls giggled at the thought and sight of the super bright and blinding hot pink pieces of clothing. Shirts, trousers, scarves, and even the top hats were screaming PINK!

"Like to see how well Firmin and Andre took this joke, I bet they're all freaking out right now." Meg whispered. "Christine, you think Erik has anything to do with this?"

"What! That can't be, dumping all of those clothes in that pink tub doesn't sound Erik material to me. Besides it's the time of the year when… well you know it just as much as Madame Giry does, she tells you everything."

Just as when their conversation was beginning to blow out of their imagination's proportion, loud stomping footsteps came booming in straight to the stage. It was Firmin and Andre followed by a company of actors looking all flustered.

"I will not spend another 5000 francs for replacing all of the costumes ruined!" Tons and tons of complaints and indignant mumbles and grumbles came blaring out of Firmin's mouth like an avalanche. "But nevertheless we push on to the opera forward. At this time of the year the seats would fill up so fast that couples would have to sit on their sweetheart's laps. Were talking big BIG business booms here."

"Of course the opera will still continue", Andre confirmed, "All we need is a little improvising, least we don't have to worry about getting the costumes for the ladies now. You think we could talk some of the actors into wearing THOSE, a few of our men don't look half bad in any kind of outfit you throw into their wardrobe."

"No!" Firmin and the actors hollered back in unison. After a brief moment Andre pondered over the matter and in a heartbeat he had an idea, but when he was about to mouth out the words, they yelled another big "No!"

Madame Giry sighed and murmured under her breath "Oh Mon dieu! This is as crazy and chaotic as things can get. I need some time to think."

"Girls, lets call it a day. Tomorrow, we'll continue practicing Act I."

The ballet girls quickly disperse and the stage was left practically empty as the two managers were the only bodies left idling about with their money troubles. Madame Giry left the opera house to go shopping for food and presents, she knows better than to procrastinate and getting run over by the stampede at the city stores. Up on the grand tier of box 6 at 8 o'clock, the night is young and there Madame Giry could be found after taking a little detour before retiring to her room, sitting on one of the luxurious chairs, with her right elbow resting on the arms of the seat and resting her head on her hand, thinking. She never got the chance to sit back and relax on one of those chairs seeing as how busy a full time ballet teacher must cope up with upcoming operas after another. But she's not the only one who needs some "me" time.

How was that? You like? Please review so I know how you feel, good productive feedback and suggestions would be awesome.

Stay tune for the next chapter. I'll do my very best to make it better and longer.