I'm so sorry that took so long! I was at my friend's lake house for the 4th of July and didn't have my computer. I'm actually on the road to Florida now, while I'm typing, so I have no internet connection, but I'll post as soon as I get to the hotel. They better have wifi. Or I will Punjab them. I'll use a phone cord if I have to.

Anyway… sorry about the excess of rambling in this chapter. I was listening to music while I wrote, and I was kinda spacing out. Sorry about that.

kissbangx3: I'm trying to make my chapters longer. Your Lost chapters are still really long, though. I don't think I can beat those. Thanks for being a consistent reviewer! You rock!

I'llTryMyBestToBeGlindaTheGood: Man, your name takes a long time to type. It's cool, though. You get to visit the schizo Phantom again in this chapter. I love him, too! Hope you like the story. Sorry for keeping you waiting, and thanks for sticking with it!

Mrs. Gerard Butler: I love that you include your favorite lines. Helps me know what people like. Hehe, I love pizza and ice cream! And coca-cola. Mmm… Ha, and the bashing is actually kinda realistic, I do that in real life – but my parents are used to it, and they bash right along with me! I agree with you, in that I have a severe dislike for Christine (who could deny the Phantom? What sane person is that dumb?). But I can't tolerate Raoul, either. I mean, he's not a bad person, but he's such a FOP! Anyway, thanks for reviewing. Luv ya!

starseven: Jill would kill you.

Dani Blues: Glad you like! (I do, too. Hehe.) Sorry to make you wait so long for this chapter!

fresh air9: I know what you mean. I did make it a little obvious, and an intelligent person could have figured it out fairly easily. I appreciate you noting this, and thanks for reading despite the corniness at parts!

opera ghost's pokemon: You're right, he does remind me a little of them, now that you mention it. I'm glad you like the story! Thanks so much for reviewing!

Okay (finally!) I'm going to start the story. Hope everybody likes it!

"Dude."

"No way."

"That is so cool!"

"Alex, that's so not fair! You get to go to the Fox again? That makes three times!"

"Seriously, Alex, that's pretty cool. You're lucky."

"Yeah, take us with you! Please?"

"You better be happy. Now I expect something big from you guys for my birthday."

"Come on, Jill, be nice, this is a big occasion!"

"Yes, honey, we'll get you something nice for your birthday, too, don't worry."

"Charlie Pace?"

"Well… maybe something a little less imaginary, dear."

"Aww…"

"Oh, man, what're the odds, you know? Three times in, like, a month!"

"Yeah, you're really lucky, Alex."

"Alex?"

"Hey, you okay?"

"What's up? You're all pale."

"Yeah, say something, Alex."

"Hell-o?"

I blinked as Jill's hand came within a centimeter of hitting my nose. "I'm good," I said dazedly, looking up at them all. "Just… surprised." And very, very, very freaked out.

Looking back, I don't really remember why I was so freaked out. I mean, it wasn't like I was going to go back down into the freaky underground lair looking for trouble. I'd just stay up in the theater and watch the show like a normal person. Everything would be great. It would be fun.

I guess it was just the idea that really scared me. I mean, nobody gets to go to the Fox that many times, completely by accident, in such a short amount of time. Nobody who's not rich or famous, I mean. Things like this don't normally happen to people like me. Before POTO, I'd never even been before in my life… and now this? It was like some unknown force kept pushing me to go back. And thanks to what I knew about a certain area beneath the theater and the two – no, the one very disturbed – occupant living down there, I wasn't particularly eager to go back.

Of course, I couldn't tell everyone else this. They'd think I was insane, and they'd be hurt that I didn't want this present.

So I plastered on a fake smile, pretended to be stunned and delighted (the stunned part was easy; the delighted part was a complete and utter lie), and did my best not to show any hint of the panic that was rising inside of me.

Freak out later. Enjoy the birthday now, I told myself.

It didn't work. I went through dinner in a daze. Everyone noticed, but they just shrugged it off as me being caught off guard with the Fox tickets. They weren't wrong, but they also weren't seeing the whole picture.

While I ate, I tried to figure out how to get myself out of this mess.

The thing was, we were going in two days, so I couldn't become mysteriously sick all of a sudden. It would seem suspicious if it wasn't over a longer period of time.

I couldn't tell them flat-out that I didn't want to go. That would just be mean. After all, they'd gone to the trouble of getting the tickets for me.

I couldn't – wouldn't – refused to tell them the truth. It was my birthday. I didn't want it to end with me in an insane asylum and the nice half of the boy ratted out, discovered, and stuck in there with me for his split personalities (that is, if anyone took my story seriously enough to look for him). Personally, I could care less what happened to the rotten half, but at the risk of hurting the good half, I wouldn't wish it on him, either. They seemed happy enough where they were.

So… what to do?

Of course, the answer was obvious. Just go to the Fox, but don't go underneath it. Don't seek them out. Pretend they don't exist. Pretend I'm just a normal person seeing a play and leaving. Pretend I don't know about the (quite attractive) schizo living beneath my feet.

It sounded easy, but I had a really bad feeling about it…

…

The day finally came, after what felt like an eternity of me worrying. I woke up with a really, really sick feeling in my stomach, but I was determined not to back out. It would be fine.

I told myself that over and over on the way there. It'll be fine.

Fine. Such a false word.

No – think positive thoughts.

It'll be fine.

We got our seats. The usher this time was an old man, so old he could have been my great-grandfather. He kind of grunted in the direction of our seats. That doesn't sound possible, but if you'd been there, you'd know what I mean. It was weird.

I was on the end of the row because Jill wouldn't sit there. The person in front of her was too tall, and she always refused to sit somewhere if the person in front of her was tall. So I get stuck in her seat. Of course, that doesn't really make sense, because I'm the shortest person in the family, which means I shouldn't have to sit in her seat, but oh well.

The show started. I tried to enjoy it, I really did, and I tried to ignore all the towers, but once in a while I caught myself looking for the Phantom of the Fox. I just couldn't help it. If you were in the Paris opera house, wouldn't you be tempted to look at Box Five?

Intermission came. I resisted the (very small) urge to venture down the back hallway and instead got myself a drink and stuck close to Jill, who looked a little surprised at the attention, though pleased.

Everything was going great…

And then I heard it.

A whisper.

I must've jumped a full foot into the air. Jill looked at me weird, but went back to her drink. At the rate she was sucking it up, it'd be gone before the intermission was even over.

Right – the voice. Sorry. Got sidetracked.

Jill didn't seem to have heard it, and neither did anyone else close by, so I just pretended that I hadn't heard it, either. Still, a little voice in the back of my mind knew that it had to be the Phantom.

It came again.

I couldn't hear what it was saying, but I just knew it was aimed at me, the same way the usher's grunt was aimed at our seats. I mean, I was the only one to hear it, right? So it had to be aimed at me. Jill still didn't give any sign that she heard a thing, which really confused me.

It came again, and this time it was as though the person was right next to me, it was so clear. It was like those tricks that the Phantom (the Erik Phantom, I mean) always used to pull, projecting his voice so that it sounded right next to you or in the next room.

"Hey," it said.

Okay, so Erik never said 'hey,' but it was still cool.

I swallowed and did my best to ignore it. "Let's go," I said to Jill, wanting to get out of there, but she shook her head and continued sipping her drink. I swear, it was already halfway gone, she was draining it away so―

Right. The voice. Man, I suck at telling a straight story.

"Hey," it whispered again, "can you hear me?"

I gritted my teeth and was silent.

"Look, I'm sorry about last time. Will you come down and talk to me?" The guy just wouldn't shut up, for Pete's sake.

But I noticed that the voice was that of the good half. The bad half would never apologize. That made me a little less afraid. I mean, the good half had never been anything but nice to me. Still, where he was, the bad half wasn't far away. I didn't even know if you had to knock him unconscious to switch him, or if he could switch himself whenever he decided to.

I thought about it. I mean, the good guy wasn't going to hurt me, but I still really didn't want to run into the bad half… and the double-personalities thing kinda scared me…

I blinked in surprise as a thought occurred to me. Well, occurred isn't really the right word. It sorta slammed into my mind like a train. If I start avoiding this guy because I'm freaked out by the split personalities, that makes me no better than Christine.

That thought alone was enough to make me turn right around and say to the voice, "I'll be there in a minute."

There was no way I was going to play Christine to this Phantom.

No way. It was no wonder the guy was stuck under a theater – his parents probably got freaked out by the whole good-bad complex and threw him out, and then the world shunned him. I was not going to do the same. If I had to play nice to his bad side and suck up to him, fine, but the guy wanted some company, and for Pete's sake, he was going to get it.

Hm. Who's Pete? I've always wondered that. Maybe it's some biblical figure. Or some random hobo on the street who died, or something, and one of his friends said, "Blablabla, for Pete's sake!" and people picked up on it because it was catchy.

Yeah, I'm sure that's it.

Man, I ramble a lot. I should really stop doing that. Where was I?

The Fox. The Phantom(s). Not being Christine. Right.

I gave Jill the slip (and that was a lot harder than it sounds) and hurried away down the passage. All of a sudden, my worries were gone, replaced by excitement. I was still a little afraid, but at that point, my resolve to befriend the guy was so strong that I shrugged off the fear.

Hah, that makes me sound all courageous and stuff. I'm actually not. My hands were shaking when I opened the trapdoor.

The Phantom (I really have to give him a name) was waiting for me. He looked anxious, as though he wasn't sure what kind of welcome he would get. After all, the last time I saw him, I ran away and left him with a footprint on his face. (Heh. I kinda regret that now. The evil side will really hate me.)

"Hi," he said hesitantly.

I smiled and dropped into the room, thankful that I was wearing pants so my skirt wouldn't fly up. "Hi." I noticed that the bruise from my shoe was basically gone and nodded to it. "Sorry about that."

He smiled shyly and shrugged one shoulder. "It's all right. He probably deserved it."

"Listen," I said to him, "I can't stick around long. My family's waiting upstairs, and I'm already probably late. I'm really sorry. I mean, I'd like to stay a while, but intermission's only so long."

The guy looked so depressed that I was leaving. It was adorable! So I quickly said: "Uh, is there a back way in? You know, where I don't have to actually come into the theater through the front doors? I want to come back some other time, but I can't pay to get into the Fox every time I want to see you."

This made him so happy – the idea that someone wanted to see him – that he beamed at me. I mean, he was seriously beaming. I could almost see light rays shooting off him.

"Sure," he said, and led me out of the room.

For once, I shoved my curiosity down and didn't try to touch the harp. I followed him down the long hallway and he opened one of the doors with a key from his pocket. Honestly, he was the only one down here – why did he need to lock the doors?

Well, for people like me, I guess. That makes me sound nosy, though.

Anyway (the rambling again! gah!), the room had another door on the other side, but it was unlocked. He opened it carefully, sticking his head out to look outside before swinging it all the way open. It opened into an alley, a dark alley, but I could see through to the street, and I recognized the parking deck where our car was. "I know where we are!" I said, excited.

He nodded and shut the door again. I followed him back through the place to the room with the crack-torches and the trapdoor. He offered me a hand up, and I took it, pulling myself back up and out. I leaned back over the door and said, "Goodbye! I'll try and come back soon!"

"You promise?" he said, looking up at me.

I smiled. "Yeah, I promise."

He smiled back up at me. I waved and shut the trapdoor behind me before turning and dashing back down the hall as fast as I could, knowing that I was going to get chastised for being late yet again.

But I didn't really care. I was really, really happy, and I didn't even really know why. I guess because I had seen the Phantom, and it had all turned out okay. More than okay – I didn't have to come back to the Fox to see him anymore. Well, I at least didn't have to pay for a ticket.

Hey, awesome! That meant I could sneak peeks at shows without paying for it!

Eheh, I mean, I would never do something so immoral… cough, cough… never…

Anyway, to get back to the point… well, actually I'm out of points to make. I'm not really good with points. I always forget what I'm going to say.

I guess the point is that I was happy. I couldn't stop grinning the whole way back up to my seat.

Jill gave me a weird look when I sat down again, partially for sneaking off on her during intermission, partially for grinning like a loon. I didn't care. I had a Phantom buddy, and she didn't. She could keep Charlie any day of the week.

I had a Phantom all to myself.

Who could ever be happier?

(Don't actually answer that question.)