Thanks to all who read and all who reviewed!

kissbangx3: Actually, that was my idea all along. As soon as I'm done with this phic – or maybe even while I'm writing it – I'm going to publish the Phantom and the Harp, or maybe that story by some other name.

Anyone who has an idea for the title of the story of the Phantom and the harp, I'd love suggestions! Thanks to all of you awesome people for reading, and if you'd be so kind, my day would get a whole lot better if you'd just leave one quick review!

Ciao!

For the next week, I tried over a thousand times to think of a way to sneak into the Fox. I didn't know of any back way into the theater, and without either finding blueprints or being there to look for one, I didn't think there was any way of knowing.

As far as my limited knowledge was concerned, the only way in was the front entrance, and you needed a ticket to get inside.

"Well, this sucks," I said to myself, lying on my bed at home. It was Saturday, a.k.a. the day when I do nothing, and I had spent the last hour trying to solve this new problem.

I wasn't having much luck.

Jill knocked on my door. "Alex? You in there?"

"Yeah," I called.

She opened the door and came in. She was wearing a Driveshaft shirt with a picture of Charlie Pace on it – you know, that guy from Lost? He really is kind of cute, I must admit. Jill was almost as in love with him as I was with the Phantom.

Okay, sometimes much more in love.

"What're you doing?" she asked, raising her eyebrows at me. I must've looked like a lazy bum, just lying there like that, too lazy to even turn my head and look at her.

I stared up at the ceiling boredly. "Contemplating the meaning of life."

"Bull."

I turned – painstakingly – to look at her. "What do you think I'm doing?" I asked. I could imagine the look on her face if I told her I was planning to break into the Fox, find two guys who were living underneath it, and write a phanphic about a Phantom and a harp in my spare time.

"Daydreaming about your Phantom again?" Jill guessed.

I turned my eyes back to the ceiling and smiled. "Yep. You know me too well." She snorted and I glared at her. "Don't laugh, you do it with Charlie. I caught you drooling once. Like, seriously drooling." I grinned evilly. "I still have the pictures."

"I hate you."

I smirked slightly. "I know."

"Mom and Dad want to talk to you," she said, leaning against the doorway and crossing her arms.

I groaned. "Tell them I'm busy."

She snorted again. "Daydreaming or contemplating the meaning of life?"

"Pick one."

"Alex, that's pathetic."

"Welcome to my world."

"Dude," she said, "you want to hear this. It's cool. It's not like they're going to ask you to clean your room or take out the garbage, not like they usually do."

I shut my eyes. "Is it worth me moving?"

"Is going to the Fox worth you moving?"

My eyes shot open and I sat up as fast as I could. It was way too fast. I yelped and toppled sideways off my bed, landing spread-eagled on the floor. I grabbed my blankets to pull myself back up and they fell on top of me, tangling me in the sheets so that I had to struggle furiously just to poke my head out of the mess.

Jill stared at me with her mouth hanging open. "I guess so."

I mumbled darkly under my breath and sat up. "Seriously? We're going to the Fox? When? Why?"

She looked a little scared at my outburst. I guess she had a right to be. "Um… Friday night, Alex, and don't get so excited. We're not seeing the Phantom of the Opera."

I deflated slightly. "Oh. What are we seeing?"

"Rent."

"Cool. And… why exactly are we just randomly going to the Fox?"

"Dad won four tickets from work. He entered one of those contests where you stick your business card in a jar and they draw one after a few days. His got drawn. Why are you so excited?"

"Dude," I said, covering up my real reason, "why are you not?"

Jill rolled her eyes.

Hm. Funny. People seem to do that to me a lot.

I grinned from ear to ear, untangled myself, and hugged my sister, so great was my utter happiness. My problem was solved! I could now go solve the mystery of the Phantom of the Fox!

Jill slowly backed away from me. "Are you okay?"

Yeah. I don't hug my sister often. In fact, I don't hug people in general often. Of course, if I ever met Erik, my Phantom, I would hug him or die trying…

Sorry. Anyway, as I was saying…

"Oh, I'm fine, Jill. Come on. Let's talk to Mom and Dad." I took her arm and dragged her down the hall.

"I thought you were busy?" she asked sarcastically.

"The meaning of life can wait! Oh, have I told you that I'm writing a story where the Phantom had a harp instead of an organ?"

Jill groaned. "Mom, Alex is being weird again!"

"Alex, honey," my mother called down the hall, "are you obsessing again?"

"Only a little, Mom," I said with a sigh. Nobody understood. It wasn't an obsession. It was… it was deeper, more significant – so yeah, for lack of a better word, I guess it was an obsession.

Did you know obsession is one of very few nouns that ends in 'ion' but not 'tion'? Like 'intuition', 'duration', 'creation', 'vacation', 'graduation', 'infatuation', 'tuition'… I could go on for another few pages like this, but then you would hate me for being boring, so I'll stop there.

Just thought you'd like to know.

So, anyway, as you can see, I was ecstatic. I had solved my problem. Well, I hadn't really done anything. The dudes who drew my dad's card out of a jar had solved my problem. Actually, their bosses had solved it, since they were the ones who decided to hold the competition –

Never mind.

Anyway, during intermission, I'd say that I needed a bathroom break or that I wanted to explore. I'd come back in a little late, but I'd blame it on getting lost or being in a line too long, or on the fact that no matter what, I am always late, in one way or another.

Foolproof.

Of course, knowing me, I'd mess it up despite the fact that it appeared foolproof, but hey, that would be fine. I'd make it work. This was too great an opportunity to waste.

-

Okay. Before I continue, I must warn you people. You avid, loyal readers may stop reading after an announcement of this severity. You may want to take a moment and decide whether you would like to risk reading the forewarned sentence.

Seriously, it may shock, horrify, or even disgust a few of you out there. Such a profound statement could throw the earth off its axis, turn the universe inside out, and do various other crazy things, like turn people into goo or make reality reverse itself.

Or – and this is rather extreme – you could be so shocked you gasped and swallowed a bug.

Ladies and gentlemen, those of you with faint hearts, back problems, pregnancy, mental health issues, and/or anger management problems should skip the next sentence.

…

…

Are you ready?

…

On Monday morning, I was on time.

(pause for effect)

That's right, people. I – Alex Carter, universal loser, master of being late – was on time. Not late. Not tardy. Punctual. That's right. Punctual.

I apologize for any distress this may have caused.

I even had time to pick matching clothes. I ate a long and leisurely breakfast. I walked to the bus stop and got there with time to spare. When the bus pulled up, I was leaning against a telephone pole, managing to look cool and not messing it up.

When I walked up the steps onto the bus, I could hear mutters of astonishment at my on-time-ness. I couldn't help the grin that spread across my face.

"Everyone, please remain calm," I said grandly. "It is true, I am not late. I know, it's a miracle, and I should be given a medal. Please, let's wait for the stunned applause until after the bus has come to a complete stop at our final destination―"

My grand speech was cut short as the driver stepped on the gas, causing me to trip over myself and fall flat on my face.

Great. Just great.

Amid the scattered laughs, I heard a few claps. I got up, swept a clumsy bow, and plopped into my seat. "Glad I could amuse you people," I muttered to Jenny, who was laughing so hard she was about to do a face-plant of her own. This was all the more pathetic because she was sitting down. Who does a face-plant sitting down?

Of course, I could do it without even trying.

"So, why were you miraculously on time this morning?" Jenny asked me, putting aside her book. She was done with the Phantom of the Opera. Now she was reading Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn. Honestly, how that girl can go from one of those to the other is a mystery to me.

"I have news," I said breathlessly.

She raised her eyebrows. "Oh?"

"I'm going back to the Fox!" I said with a grin. I think I even squealed a little bit. Sickening. Looking back, I am disgusted by myself. Oh, well. I was excited.

"Really." Jenny opened her book and put her nose back in it. "Congrats."

"You sound decidedly unenthusiastic."

"Yep."

She was trying to get me to ask why. Being the sucker that I am, I humored her. "Why?"

"I'm shunning you."

I groaned. "Why?"

"Because."

"…"

"Because you're not telling me something. That day we went and saw Phantom of the Opera, you were doing something that made you late, and it wasn't saving a kid. I know you better than that."

Sometimes I wish people didn't know me so well. "So?"

"So what were you doing?"

"Why does it matter?"

"If it didn't, you would've told me."

I had no answer to that. "Meh."

She sniffed and turned the page of her book, ignoring me.

"Okay, Jenny," I said with a heavy sigh, "you want to know what I was doing? I was watching the musical and I saw this shadow walking around on the turrets, and it fell off over the edge, and when the musical was over I went down there to see if I could find it, and I found a trapdoor in the hallway and went in, and I found this room with this harp, and I found this random guy there who lives under the theater with some other guy who owns the harp that I don't know, and he's the one that fell off the turrets, and I'm happy about going back to the Fox so I can find them again."

Jenny didn't even look up from her book. "You need help."

I groaned. "Look, today started as a good day for me. Can we please try to keep it that way? Can't we call a truce and talk about this some other time? Pretty please? Pretty pretty please? Pretty pretty pretty―"

"Okay, okay," she said quickly. "Sorry. I just hate it when you won't tell me things."

"I'll tell you at some point, I promise."

She sighed and shrugged. "Well, congratulations on the Fox, and on being on time. I'll try to remember every minute of it, since I know it'll probably never happen again."

"Gee, thanks."

"Welcome."

We got off the bus and saw Paul. He walked over to meet us and we walked into school together. Jenny spoke without looking up from her book. "Hey, Paul, guess what?"

"What?" he asked, glancing over at her.

"Alex wasn't late for the bus today."

Paul laughed aloud. "Ha, ha, very funny."

I glared at him and Jenny chuckled. "Paul, we're not kidding."

He stared at me. "Seriously? You made it to the bus on time? Should I be worried?"

"Yeah," I said sarcastically. "I was on time for the bus. The world is going to end. Why don't we all run around screaming 'the apocalypse is here!' and see what happens?"

"Sounds good to me," Jenny said absentmindedly, turning the page.

Paul and I just rolled our eyes.

So started the week leading up to my visit to the Fox.

It wouldn't go by fast enough.