I was in the world of phantom. Carlotta was gone, Christine was a bitch, and Erik was nowhere to be seen. What the hell. There was no way this was my fault. Was it?
There is no way just the presence of me could change the story so drastically. Right? Oh shit.

I stared as the new managers, who I knew as Andre and Firmin, spoke with Christine, who tilted up her nose and refused to do an aria. "I am too tired." She hissed and left, angry.

Yet as I watched her walk, screams echoed as a stage beam holding a background fell and barely missed her. Piangi ran to her and picked her up, and Meg cried out.

"He's there! The Phantom of the Opera!" She cried as the rest of the ballerinas went into a panic frenzy and the stage crew ran around.

Lefevre called out "Where is Buquet? King of the Flies!" He complained.

Joesph Buquet came out, holding a length of rope eerily similar to a noose, in fact, it was a noose. "I promise you I was not at a post. And if somebody was there, then it must be a GHOST!" He shouted as the ballerina went into another frenzy.

Christine stood up, angry, heat in her eyes. "I refuse to perform. These things been happening for too many seasons. And Monsieur Lefevre has done nothing to try to help us." With those final words, already showing how the story was changing, she turned and stormed out. Andre and Firmin never even spoke and tried to calm her down.

Speaking of which, the two started to complain and panic. "A full house refund! No Primadonna to be seen!"

"Is there an Understudy?"

"There is no understudy for La Christine! The production is new!"

And cue more panic. Christine was supposed to take over Carlotta's place. Who was to do it now? I look around. And finally Meg spoke up.

"Victoire Bournival can sing it Sir!" Wait what? No no no. Why me?

I look to her surprised, as she offered a weak smile.

"A chorus girl?" Andre said, scoffing.

"She has had a great tutor!" Meg interjected, taking a foot forward and holding up her head.

"Let her sing for you Monsieurs." Madame Giry replied, motioning with her cane for me to come center stage. I listened to her, because of all people including Erik, I was afraid of her.

I stood in the center and looked out to the seats. I knew the song by heart. Of course I did.

Think of me...
Think of me fondly when we said goodbye...

UNKNOWN POV

I listened to the voice as it rang out through the auditorium. She wasn't my student. That wasn't Christine, who once upon a time I taught and loved, before she changed for the worse from her new found voice.

This voice was different, this voice held the emotion that Christine held, but it was stronger. It was bolder yet raw and uncut. Not my pupil, but where has this voice been hiding.

I stare to the stage from my spot in the shadows, staring at the ballerina in the slave girl outfit with fiery hair trailing down her back. I don't remember her so clearly, just a haze from my early tutoring sessions with Christine. The girl who stuck to Christine before Christine moved up.

What a wonderful sound. So bold.

I had some work to do. This voice had once inspired me once more. I shall hear her sing once more