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

Showstopper

Andrew

Chapter 18 – Backlash

There was a message on my answering machine when I got home; after hearing it, I was surprised my parents hadn't deleted it. The entire five minutes was filled with curse words, screamed hysterically by Adriana… I think that was her name. The girl I'd dumped earlier that day.

Anyway, I deleted the message after letting it play all the way through. It was actually quite amusing.

Sorry hun. You're out.

I logged online, and predictably, my MySpace was full of congratulations and good-luck notes.

No surprise there.

Hold the phone. There was a message from Marisa, too. She didn't usually send congrats; she always laughed and said I didn't need it. I clicked on the box and her note opened.

Hey,

So what happened with us today? Or was I just making all of that up in my head?

See ya.

-- Marisa

I cocked an eyebrow. She was jumping to conclusions a bit quickly. I typed back:

Don't think anything of it. We're allowed to talk, aren't we? Going to the same school and all. Forget it.

I didn't need her to think I was flirting… Oh hell, I was. A bit. But that would get messy with Erik, and then she'd probably be mad at me too. She tended to side with Elise in most of our disputes.

I sent the message and logged off, not bothering to reply to all my congrats. I'd never done it before; it wasn't like anyone expected me to, either.

I heard the garage door under my bedroom and remembered my parents had gone to some kind of meeting. I reluctantly went downstairs to… welcome them, perhaps?, still thinking about Marisa and Elise.

"How did it go?" I asked when my parents walked into the family room, not remotely caring about the response.

"Very well," my mom said. "And how was the read-through?"

I shrugged. "Eh… okay, I guess. We didn't get much done, because it's pretty much all singing."

"That's too bad." Mom pursed her lips a bit, the way she did when things weren't going as well as she wanted.

"I should go… look over the script," I finished somewhat lamely. "Marshall wanted us to get a head-start on it."

"Of course."

I trudged back upstairs and got on the computer again. One of Adriana's friends had sent me an e-mail. I figured I knew what it was about, but I wanted to read it anyway.

The chick couldn't spell… but then again, who could these days? Correctly written, it went something like this:

You insufferable son of a byotch!!! I don't normally curse, but this is an exception!!!

There followed a paragraph of swearwords, calling me every name in the book… and a few not in it. It was almost identical to Adriana's hysterical message on our answering machine.

"You 'don't normally curse', my ass," I muttered, scrolling down. The message ended with: You're the biggest man-whore that ever lived!!!!

I snorted and typed back:

That's your parting shot? expletive you.

I didn't have time for this. No, wait. I had time. I just didn't want to waste it on that pathetic excuse for a girl's best friend.

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A/N: yeah, it's short, oh well. I was a tad blocked on this one. R&R!

-- Ash