I own nothing regarding The Phantom of the Opera.
Somewhere in the back of Christine Daae's mind, she knew that she was asleep. She also knew that it was time to wake up, and made the decision to do so.
This wasn't out of the norm for Christine. In fact, it was how she woke up every morning. What wasn't so normal for her was waking with a splitting headache.
Moaning softly, Christine rolled onto her side, eyes closed. Jesus Christ, she thought. What did I do…
Yesterday.
Christine's eyes shot open, and she launched herself from the bed she had previously occupied. Almost immediately, an incredible head rush made her regret that choice, and red clouded her vision. Fuck, fuck… She sank to the floor, hands on her head. After a few moments, she felt lucid enough to assess the situation.
Christine was in a small bedroom. It was neat and simply furnished, with light blue walls. The light colored carpet felt warm and soft underneath her. Sunshine was streaming from high windows, creating spider webs of light on Christine's fingers and legs. She had never seen this place before.
Standing abruptly, Christine looked down at herself. She was wearing what she had worn the day before; black jeans and a striped shirt. For this much, she was grateful. Fuck. Fuck. Feeling thoroughly out her depth, she rushed the bedroom door. The handle would not budge. Christine's eyes widened, and she plummeted, as she had not twenty-four hours ago.
Not daring to make a sound, Christine continued to rattle the doorknob and threw her weight against the merciless, unyielding oak door. Suddenly, she felt it give way and shrieked as she fell into a pair of strong arms.
"Jesus, Christine. Are you okay? The door sticks sometimes." Christine looked up at the man holding her in place, and immediately stopped struggling. He happened to be her best friend's boyfriend, and her best friend, Meg Giry, was watching worriedly over his shoulder.
As soon as Christine was still, Josh released her arm and was more or less shoved aside by an excitable Meg. "Christine, you're up! You scared the ever-loving shit out of me!"
"What… where are we?" Asked a slightly dazed Christine. She noticed Meg's mother watching the group concernedly from the end of the hallway.
"We're at my house," Meg bleated, tucking back a strand of her pale hair. "You fainted yesterday, and we brought you back here. You woke up once, but I guess you don't remember that. How do you feel? Do you remember being out yesterday? Can you-"
"Okay, alright." Meg's mother, Antoinette, finally made herself heard and moved to where they were standing in the cramped hall. Christine stared at her former dance teacher. A petite woman with undeniably French features, she was the spitting image of her daughter, save for her thick, dark hair. "Give the girl some space, then we'll ask questions. Megan, fetch her some water. Christine, come with me."
In her unfailingly professional manner, she showed Christine downstairs and into a comfortable sitting room. With an unreadable expression on her face, Christine lowered herself onto a pale pink loveseat. Antoinette sat beside her in wooden rocker and Josh across from them, on a sofa. Christine shook her head, as though she were trying to clear it.
"I ran into you yesterday at the grocery store, at around noon. You complained briefly of a headache, and then passed out. I called Josh and Megan to help me move you. It's a good thing you woke when you did; any longer and we would have sought medical attention. "
Two qualities Madame Giry possessed for which Christine was endlessly grateful were her frankness and, at the same time, her strong maternal instinct. In this circumstance, however, any and all kindnesses were lost on a still-stunned Christine. She vaguely noticed Meg enter the sitting room and place a tumbler of water on the piano next to her, before seating herself next to Josh on the sofa.
"We didn't mean to frighten you," continued Antoinette, "but you didn't have the key your apartment with you, and my house was nearer than Megan's flat."
There was silence for a few moments as Christine stared at a point just above Josh's head, and then her brow furrowed in confusion. "But that's not what happened. There was a man, in a mask… we were in the Held Theatre."
Meg and her mother exchanged a look. "Christine," Meg began carefully, "that's not what happened. You never went to the theatre."
After a few uncomfortable seconds, the only phrase which Christine could summon was, that bastard.
A/N: The plot, she thickens! I wonder what really happened before Christine lost consciousness. I guess we'll find out! PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! Not to, ahem, sound needy or anything, I truly am excited to be testing the waters of fan fiction and to explore the characters of Christine and Erik a bit. Thank you!