I'm so sorry that this took so long! I've been busy with swim team and work. I just spent six hours cleaning, and I was so exhausted afterwards that I didn't have enough energy to do anything but write.

So… here it is!

MonMaskedAnge: I guess it could be Erik incarnate, if you want to see it that way. I wasn't planning it. You're right, the death threats make it sound like him! Yeah, and Alex would've asked the good guy about a way in, but we all know she's a little spacey (like me!). Thanks for reviewing!

I'llTryMyBestToBeGlindaTheGood: Sorry I took so long to update. I'll try harder next time!

Dani Blues: Hehe… don't Punjab me! I just love doing cliffies.

Mrs. Gerard Butler: Yep, he's schizo. I hope you like the story, and thanks so much for reviewing!

kissbangx3: Yeah, I updated twice… hehe… I'm awesome!

anonymous: Thanks for reading. I know what you mean, with not being able to explain things. I really, really want to go see the musical! I think I'd probably hide under a seat so and live in the theater so that I could see it again the next time for free. Even a hot usher couldn't get me out of there.

Fate's Dice Kyre: Thanks for the advice. I agree, the Fox really is beautiful… I'm glad you like!

starseven: Yes, let's not find out. Thanks for reviewing. I'm glad you like it!

The entire car ride home, I was staring out the window, watching the cars whiz by. The same thought was running through my mind, over and over, without fail. Every time I tried to shove it away, it returned, like a fly that buzzes by your ear and won't be swatted, no matter how hard you try.

How?

How could this be happening? I had gone underneath the Fox and found a sweet and charming young man, living underneath the ground, lonely and afraid. I come back to find that he's changed into a cold, evil being with a mind to kill me. What had gone wrong? How could this be happening?

I had heard of people with split personalities, but I would never have expected it in that boy. Turns out I was wrong. Dead wrong. And I'd never felt so horrible about being wrong before.

Why couldn't any story stay simple? Why did they have to get so complicated?

I mean, split personalities? How much does that suck?

I guess now I understand why he lives underneath the Fox. I mean, it would just be too weird to wake up and be a completely different person. Imagine being a mother and tucking in a sweet little angel into bed and kissing him goodnight, and then coming in the next morning and finding a devil lying in wait. His parents had probably freaked and kicked him out of the house or something.

At this, I clenched my jaw. Even with a son like that, how could they?

Then again, what with how shocked and afraid I had been, I had no right to criticize them. Still, their own son…

"Hell-o?"

I turned and looked at Jill. "Yeah?"

"You didn't hear a word I said, did you?"

I was reminded of the cold-hearted version of the Phantom of the Fox. I shook my head and sighed heavily. "Sorry. What were you saying? Something about Roger?" I took a random stab at the topic of the conversation that had been going on without me.

My guess was dead-on.

"Yes!" she grinned. "Wasn't he the coolest? And his plaid pants! Man, I want them. You know what? When I get home, I'm going to make a slideshow of pictures of him and Charlie! Like a collage, you know? Ooh, and I can put it to the tune of a Rent song! Yes! I'm so awesome!"

I stopped paying attention.

My mind wandered back to the Fox. Or, more specifically, to the two occupants living underneath. No – the one occupant, the one with multiple personalities. I still wasn't used to the idea.

This is like the Phantom of the Opera, I thought to myself. He's deformed, too, except not in the same way – he's got a mental problem. I think it's even worse. I mean, you can get over somebody's face, but it'd be a lot harder to go to sleep not knowing whether your husband was going to hug you or kill you in the morning.

We pulled up into our driveway and went inside the house. Mom and Dad were doing their best to humor Jill's ravings while actually ignoring her, and I wasn't even trying to pretend that I was paying attention. I walked upstairs, went into my room, and shut the door.

Only when my father called upstairs that it was time for pizza and ice cream did I emerge.

The next few weeks, I tried to forget about the whole thing. I went to school, I watched tv, I hung out with my friends, I did everything a normal teenager should. I put the Fox and its phantoms out of my mind.

After all, why should I worry about it? It was insanely lucky to get to go to the Fox twice in the same week, even the same month. It was just about impossible to get to go three times. I mean, there was hardly a chance in the world. It would have been unbelievable. And frankly, I wasn't sure I wanted it.

I admit, I wanted to see the nice boy again and apologize for kicking him in the face, even if I was actually kicking his other personality. But what if I ran into the evil Phantom of the Fox? He had threatened to kill me if I came back.

That would suck. And I didn't know if I'd have the guts to risk it.

So I laughed and chatted with Jenny and Paul, who either didn't notice that anything was wrong or pretended not to notice. I paid attention in English class and aced my test on comma splices. (Hah.)

Pretty soon, my birthday came around.

I woke up that Saturday morning and lay there for a while, staring up at the ceiling and smiling. Today would be a good day. I could forget about the Fox entirely. Jenny and I were going to watch Phantom of the Opera – probably at least three times – and we'd managed to convince Paul to watch with us. Then my family and I were going out for dinner.

I got out of bed, threw on some clothes, and went downstairs. My mom had already made me breakfast, French toast with syrup and bacon. Mmm, I love bacon. I was greeted with enthusiastic cries of "Happy birthday, Alex!" as I sat down and dug in.

"Thanks, guys," I mumbled, speaking around a mouthful of toast.

Jill sat down next to me and handed me a present. I hesitated, putting my fork down. "Please tell me you didn't track down Roger, steal his plaid pants, and gift-wrap them for me for my birthday."

She snorted. "Are you kidding? You think if I got his plaid pants I'd give them to anybody?"

I laughed. "I guess not." I unwrapped it. It was a long, rectangular box. I used my knife to open one end and carefully dumped the present out into my hand. It was a poster. My eyes grew wide as I unrolled it and held it up in front of me.

It was a huge, brilliant picture of the Phantom of the Opera, staring out at me from those gorgeous eyes of his. Gerard Butler's voice may be just okay, but he made almost the perfect appearance, in my opinion.

I just about died from happiness. "You rock!" I told Jill, who grinned.

"Of course I do." Her eyes glinted. "You know what this means, though, don't you?"

I grimaced. "What?"

"Now you have to burn that picture of me drooling."

"No, I don't!"

"Yes, you do!"

"It's my birthday. I don't have to do anything!"

"Alex!"

I stuck my tongue out at her.

"Jill, stop pestering your sister," my mom said distractedly, sitting down to her own breakfast. "When it's your birthday, you can order her around."

Jill's eyes flashed dangerously at me. "I'll be waiting for that."

I laughed nervously. "Um… okay."

When I had finished my breakfast, I took my precious poster into my room and hung it up on the wall over my bed so that I could stare at my beloved Phantom every night before I went to sleep.

The doorbell rang.

"Crap, it's later than I thought!" I muttered to myself. It was almost noon and I had completely forgotten that people were coming over. "That must be Jenny and Paul."

Jill got to the door first and opened it while I was still upstairs. Jenny was standing there. The instant the door opened, she yelled, "Happy birthday!" at the top of her lungs.

Jill blinked.

Jenny suddenly realized that the person she was congratulating wasn't me. "Oh," she said sheepishly. "Sorry, Jill!"

Jill groaned and rubbed her pinkie in her ear. "I think I'm deaf."

I walked down the stairs. "Hey, Jenny."

"Happy birthday!" she yelled again.

Jill groaned and stumbled up the stairs to her room, clutching her head. Jenny chuckled. "She's always so melodramatic. In a funny way, though." She brightened. "Let's start watching! I don't want to waste a single minute of movie time!"

"What about your beloved?" I joked, letting her in and closing the door behind her. "Shouldn't we wait for Paul to show up?"

"Oh, he won't care, it's just the very beginning," she said with a wave. "Besides, this way we can sit so that he has to sit next to me! Hahaha!" She turned to grin at me. "See all the wonderfully evil things you can accomplish by being early? You should try it some time."

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, yeah, let's go start."

"I'll give you your present while we watch," she said eagerly, skipping into the living room. "We can do it during the part where Raoul's flirting with Christine in her dressing room, since nobody cares about that stupid fop anyways."

I laughed and followed her to the couch. We sat down and turned the television on – the movie was already in. I had watched it twice the day before. I don't think a single week has ever gone by where I didn't watch it at least twice. Except for once while we were on vacation, but I listened to the soundtrack six times on my iPod, so that at least counts for something.

We started the movie. Paul came in just at the part where the chandelier is lifted and everything goes from black and white to color. Jill answered the door, knowing we were too lazy to bother, and let him in. He crept in as quietly as he could, not wanting to disturb the mood.

Paul was awesome. He was one of very few guys who would watch the movie over and over with us. He didn't mind us gushing over the Phantom. I secretly think he was ogling Meg the whole time.

When the Raoul part came on, while he was inviting Christine to dinner in her dressing room, Jenny wrinkled her nose at the fop and turned to me. "Here." She handed me my present.

It was a collection of drawings, all of the Phantom, Christine, and Raoul dying in various ways.

"Dude," I said, staring at them. Not only is Jenny a really fast reader, she's a great artist. These were amazing. My favorites were the collection where Raoul was being murdered. There was, of course, the traditional Phantom-with-a-Punjab that was sneering and saying, "You should have kept your hands at the level of your eyes, fop."

Then there was one with Raoul being impaled by the Phantom's sword. Then one with Raoul being eaten by a hippogriff. Then one where Raoul was daydreaming about Christine and there was a group of rabid fangirls gathered behind him with various insane weapons.

I stared at Jenny. "You went a little overboard, don't you think?"

She shrugged. "It was fun. If you keep going, there's one where he spontaneously combusts."

I paled as I looked at it. "Dude."

She chuckled. "That was the funnest." Her attention turned back to the screen. "Hang on, the Phantom's back on! This is the best part! Shhhh!" We all quieted and watched the movie.

Unfortunately, we didn't get through watching it twice. At the Raoul/Christine rooftop scene the second time, we were called into the kitchen for lunch. We settled down around the table and chatted happily as we ate. At one point, the subject of Raoul came up.

After a few minutes of intense bashing from me and Jenny, during which my parents watched us with very afraid stares and Jill just shook her head, used to it by then.

Finally, when we had to pause for breath, Paul spoke up. "You know," he said, putting his fork down for a second and looking up at us, "Raoul isn't really that bad."

There was complete silence as Jenny and I stared at him, betrayal in our eyes.

"How – could – you?" Jenny whispered.

Paul looked between the two of us nervously and tried to defend himself. "I mean – you know, if the Phantom wasn't in the story, if he didn't exist, and it was just a love story between Christine and Raoul, you guys would probably be gushing over him instead―"

Jenny and I simultaneously reached for our knives.

Paul shrank back. "Eheh… just kidding…?"

We glared at him and went back to our lunches. He shuddered and muttered under his breath to Jill, "They're completely insane. Is Alex like this all the time?"

"I heard that," I said through a mouthful of orange.

Jill looked up at Paul and pointed her fork at him. "Watch who you're calling insane. I did the same thing yesterday when Alex tried to insult Charlie. And my knife was bigger."

Paul inched away from her.

My mother tried to distract us insane people from our knife-themed threats with a present. "Alex, would you like your biggest present now, or at dinner?"

"Now," Jenny mouthed. She wanted to see what it was before she had to go.

"Now, I guess," I said, and she beamed at me.

I was handed a small box, about the size of a paperback book, but too light. I tried to guess what it might be, but since I knew from past experience that I was never right, I chose to just go ahead and open it. Sure enough, under the colorful wrapping paper was a plain white box.

"If this is underwear," I stated, "I'm going to kill you."

Jill chuckled. "Just open it."

I did.

You'll never believe what it was. Actually, you've probably already figured it out, but I would never have guessed it. I stared down at the box. I think my mouth was probably hanging open. I might have even been drooling. I seriously don't remember. All my attention was fixed solely on the little piece of paper sitting innocently in the box.

A ticket.

I didn't even notice what the show was, or when. I was too occupied with where it was.

You guessed it.

The Fox.