Disclaimer: I don't own the Phantom of the Opera or any of its songs, script, etc.

A/N: Back to Elise, and I'm back too! Lots more for y'all to read! Hope you like!

Showstopper

Elise

Chapter 11 – Midnight Apologies
"What is the point of this?" I asked myself as I studied over some of my chemistry homework, "We all ready had a quiz over it." Yes and you got a C on it too. The voice in my head reminded me. I dismissed the incorrect definitions of London Forces, Dipoles, and Molecular Attraction as stupid mistakes. I propped myself up on my window seat in my room, and hit play on my CD player. The room was filled with the soothing serenade of "Think of Me" as sung by the talented Emmy Rossum.
"I wish I could sing like that." I thought One must not covet. The commandment echoed in my head. I closed my eyes and listened. We never said our love was evergreen, or as unchanging as the sea, but if you could still remember, stop and think of me. I tried to hold back the tears, but it didn't help, the more I tried to blink them back the more the surfaced and poured down my face like mineral oil out of a glass bottle.
Da da da, da da, da-da-da. Startled by the random burst of Hungarian Dance number five, I reached in my pocket for my cell phone.
"Hello?" I said hoping that I did not to sound like I'd been fighting a losing battle with my optometric plumbing.
"Lise Lotte?"
Are you kidding me?
"Raoul?" I asked, hoping that I was not imagining things.
"Yes, it is I." he started "I'm sorry-"
"No I'm sorry!" I interrupted hysterically "I'm so mad at Andrew! I don't even like him! I promise you there is no chemistry between us at all!"
"Lotte, be of good spirits; for the fight is not over yet. I know that you feel nothing for him except a pain in your backside perhaps?" he said with a Scottish accent.
"You are indeed right my dear," I said relaxing a little, "he is nothing more to me than a lucky donkey, for lack of a better word."
"See, now doesn't that feel better?" he asked How could I have never met this guy before?
"You have no idea my dear," I said, smiling.
"Did you hear about the Modern Masquerade?" he asked slowly
"No I did not."
"Before the final performance, since all of us will be missing Prom, we get to have a Prom of our own."
"That sounds like fun." Where is he going with this?
"Yes it will be, if you go with me."
"What are you suggesting my dear?"
"I am suggesting that I take you to the Modern Masquerade, I'd be your date. That is all I'm suggesting, Lise Lotte."
"I must say," I said, switching to an English accent comparable to that of Elizabeth Bennett from Pride and Prejudice, "I do relish the idea a great deal, if it so interests you my dear."
"Indeed it does." he said slowly.
Am I imagining this? Did he just ask me to the biggest social event of the year!
"You know it is expected of course for Raoul and Christine to go together?" I asked, still sounding like Lizzie Bennett.
"You must know by now that I asked you to go with me not because it was expected of me but because I wanted to. You must know that," he said, following my lead with an accent like that of Lizzie's fiancé Mr. Darcy. I love irony.
"Oh dear I cannot tease you about that, what a shame for I do love to laugh," I said, quoting Jane Austen
"Well, I regret that I must go Lise Lotte, do take care." he said.
"You as well, my dear," I said as I ended the call.

You know what this calls for?

Celebration!
I put on an old pair of black sweat pants made into tastefully-done gaucho-like pants that hung slightly above my knees. Throwing a hoodie over my black spaghetti-strap tank top, I grabbed my dance bag and headed out the door. Not forgetting of course to tell my Mom that I'd be back around ten-thirty. As soon as I walked out the door it began to pour rain, but nothing was going to spoil my mood. I walked down the street behind my house, past the diner, the music store, and the barber shop, and came to Lynette's Dance Academy, the place where I'd learned the power of music. I fumbled around in my bag for the key that Lynette had gladly given me last summer. "Take it," she'd said when I'd tried to return it to her, "you never know when you might need it. You've been such a help to us teaching the pre-ballet classes." When I finally found the key, I opened the door with ease and closed it behind me. Not need to lock it, who's going to come into an old abandoned dance studio? I took off my soaking wet hoodie, as much as I tried to stay dry, it didn't help. My ponytail hung in curly wet tendrils. I took off my tennis shoes and pulled the white satin ballet slippers out of my bag. I'd been so careful with them, after all they'd belonged to my Grandmother. They even had the authentic 'Made in Italy' stamped on the bottom. When I'd tied them securely around my ankles, I did some stretches and a few spins. Whoa! My slippers made friction with the floor. Where did she put the rosin? I flat-footed-like walked over to a nearby closet where I found a tray and a bag of rosin. Sighing, I poured some into the tray and carefully placed it on the floor and rubbed my slippers in it. I tapped the toes of my slippers on the floor making the sound of wood whacking linoleum to remove the excess rosin from my slippers. Spinning slightly, I made my way to the dance floor. It was linoleum as well, with mirrors surrounding the entire area. It may sound unnerving, but when I closed my eyes, everything melted away; the tension, depression, despair, anything and everything disappeared. Filled with excitement, I placed my soundtrack in the studio's CD player and hit play.
At that moment I let the music take me away, I listened for every crescendo, decrescendo, mezzo-piano, and mezzo-forte, moving completely to the sound of Christine's voice.

Think of me,

Think of me fondly when we've said good bye.

Remember me,

Once in a while, please promise me you'll try.

When you find that once again you long

To take your heart back and be free,

If you ever find a moment stop and think of me.

Now my soft movements of interpretation melted into long spins on the very tips of my toes.

We never said our love was evergreen

Or as unchanging as the sea,

But if you could still remember, stop and think of me.

The music and I became one as if it had taken total control like ribbons attached to my wrists were flowing with the breeze of the music. I don't know why but for some reason I wasn't connecting with the music as much as I would have hoped, so I changed songs to "All I Ask of You." I could feel my heart flutter at the sound of Raoul's voice:

No more talk of darkness, forget these wide-eyed fears.

I'm here, nothing can harm you.

My words will warm and calm you.

Let me be your freedom, let daylight dry your tears.

I'm here, with you, beside you, to guard you and to guide you.

With the progression of each line I could picture Raoul more realistically in my own mind. You see, it wasn't Steve Barton, or even Patrick Wilson; no, the Raoul in my head was Matt Portabello. Completely "in the zone", I listened to my part as I interpreted it.

Say you'll love me ev'ry waking moment.

Turn my head with talk of summertime.

Say you need me with you now and always;

Promise me that all you say is true. That's all I ask of you.

I tried to picture a cold snowy rooftop with me clad with a ball gown and cape, (me in a ball gown was very hard to imagine) and Matt in the 'patron' getup. I smiled once again when Raoul continued:

Let me be your shelter, let me be your light.

You're safe, no one will find you; your fears are far behind you.

Switching gears, I heard my part and put my heart into every jump and gesture.

All I want is freedom, a world with no more night,

And you always beside me, to hold me, and to hide me.

The emotions flowing from the music started to catch up with me; I wasn't even in the studio anymore, I wasn't in my own little world either, I was dancing on top of a Paris opera house with an enraged Phantom only levels below. The song embraced me as if it was a fine satin robe, covering me completely.

Little did I know who the real Phantom was that had been watching me the whole time.